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Memphis forced himself not to scowl too harshly at the officer who was explaining the details of his house arrest.
“I think it’s all pretty clear. Thank you, Officer. And I’ll be permitted to attend meetings at my attorney’s office and any court dates added to the schedule, correct?”
The officer nodded. “Correct. It’s our understanding that you have a female companion living here as well. Her movements will not be monitored, but I would advise you not to use her to bring contraband into the home. While you are on house arrest, all drugs and alcohol are forbidden. Because pretrial house arrest is not as stringent, we will not be continuously monitoring for those substances, but your assigned officer could show up at any moment and drug test you or ask you to breathe into a Breathalyzer. Again, any infractions will land you in jail until your trial.”
He only half listened as the officer explained the ins and outs of house arrest and how his case was special because of his willingness to have a chip implanted. In some ways that was benefiting him because it was allowing the department to test whether such a device was workable for other criminals sentenced to house arrest.
On the other hand, organizations like the ACLU might have a field day if they got wind of how he was being monitored. People were weird about chips.
He’d slipped out of bed early this morning to go for a long run through the neighborhood. His last for a few weeks at least. He just hoped this house arrest didn’t end with him in prison for twenty years. Which is exactly what would happen if he didn’t figure out who screwed him over.
The officer finished his spiel and showed off the tracking system. He also left a large stack of documents for him to read about house arrest and the fees he would be assessed for the city of Las Vegas to monitor him.
He flipped through the stack and carried it upstairs to the room he’d designated as his office. There had been much haranguing on his attorney’s part that allowed him to continue working since it was essentially his business practices that were on trial. But after Jeremy’s impassioned plea peppered with reminders that innocent until proven guilty was still a thing in this country, the judge had finally given in to the requests they were making. Bail should have never been revoked in the first place.
When the officer was gone, he paced his office and wondered just how much he should tell Rylee. According to his attorney, she should have known everything from the beginning, but it hadn’t been a simple thing to work into conversation. Not when every interaction they’d had so far had been extremely sexual.
The sound of movement down the hall caught his attention, and he knew she was awake and would be looking for him soon. He was glad she’d slept through the morning activity, but he had told her people would be around to set up a new security system just in case she woke up and wondered what was happening. Why was he trying so hard to keep his predicament from her?
He dragged a hand through his hair and sent a text to his attorney to meet him back at the house in an hour. Jeremy had been there at the beginning when they’d set up the sensors and implanted the small chip but had left for another appointment before the officers left.
Rolling up his sleeves, he made his way to the bedroom he’d slept with Rylee in.
She was pulling on her robe when he pushed the door open. There was lust in her eyes when she turned and let it fall to the floor again.
“Mmm. Good girl. I would love to play, but I have work meetings all morning. I just wanted to say good morning before I got started.”
She seemed disappointed but made no move to put her robe back on. He closed the distance between them. His mouth closed over hers and he let his hand fist into her already disheveled hair.
“Good morning, Ace. There should be pretty much anything you want in the kitchen for breakfast.”
“Thank you,” she murmured as her fingers danced on her swollen lips. “What should I do after breakfast?” she asked.
He smiled. “I’m sure you can entertain yourself in this house. You have free rein. Just stay out of my office if I’m in a meeting.”
She nodded. “OK.”
He frowned and shook his head. “Turn around and bend over the desk.”
Her mouth dropped open, but she obeyed.
Her ass was a pale, empty canvas and he couldn’t wait to paint it red. That would have to come another time, though. For now, he placated himself with three harsh swats to each cheek before thrusting two fingers in her already soaked pussy.
“How do you address me, sub?” he asked as he pumped in and out of her.
She moaned and didn’t respond, so he landed six more swats and plunged into her again.
“Answer me, sub, or I’ll get my hairbrush and give you a real spanking.”
“Sir, I call you Sir,” she whimpered as he continued finger fucking her.
“Better,” he said, pulling his fingers free. With his left hand, he took her by the elbow and helped her raise up. When she faced him, he shoved the two digits he’d fingered her with into her mouth.
“Clean my fingers, sub,” he said. She obediently sucked all of her juices from his hand. He pulled free of her mouth and pressed a kiss to her lips again.
“I’ll be keeping track of how many times you forget to call me Sir today. We’ll talk about what happens when it’s time for bed.”
She nodded, followed by a whispered, “Yes, Sir,” when he narrowed his eyes and scowled.
