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“Uh-huh, and that’s why Sheldon is texting you at, let’s see”—after glancing at her watch for dramatics, she eyes me again—“almost midnight, Lexie. It’s midnight, and he’s texting to let you know he knows that you’re safe and to tell you to lock the door? Come on, seriously? You can’t come up with anything better than that?”
I shrug. “What do you want me to say? It’s what happened, and that’s all I know.”
“Yeah, except that you haven’t stopped checking your phone for his messages since we left the hospital.”
Definitely time to turn the tables on this conversation. “That’s ridiculous. And just why the heck were you so rude to Nick? I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t been driving behind me. Who knows how long it would have been before I came around, and you weren’t very nice at all!”
“Maybe he should have kept his eyes in his head and not on my tits and ass every time I moved,” Allie retorts offhandedly, shrugging. She loads her chopsticks for another hearty bite. No doubt she’ll be out of the house before five a.m. with ten miles of road under her belt, burning up those carbs, while I’m still blissfully dreaming of the take-charge, dark brown haired security guard with intense smoldering brown eyes, who I still have no clue if I’ll ever even see again.
Chapter Five
Sheldon
We’ve just landedin Bel Air, and I’m still contemplating the question from Alexis on the way to Brian’s mansion.You said there would be consequences if I don’t do what you say. Does that mean I’ll see you again?
The logical side of my brain knows there is no chance that whatever this is will work. I may be sexually drawn to her soft, submissive side, and Alexis may be drawn to my dominance, but that doesn’t mean she would welcome it twenty-four seven. The past has cemented that fact in stone, and there’s not even a crack in the foundation. A woman may want a take-charge guy in the bedroom, but after that, most women want to be independent and stand on their own two feet. I’ve tried molding someone into this life, and it left both of us miserable in the end. Alexis has done well for herself. She’s clearly self-sufficient and determined, all traits I find extremely admirable, but women like that don’t tend to partner with domineering men, and domineering I am. Of that, there is no doubt. A woman like her would suffocate under my watchful eye and constant care.
There’s no reason to answer the question Alexis poses about seeing her again, or to dwell on something that will never be. Better just to let it go, make sure she’s safe from the lunatic running free on the streets, get the information to the people working on our trafficking division, and then concentrate on something else. The security team is accompanying the Prestians to Brian Carrington’s mansion, and the BDSM club there should give me exactly the distraction I need.
Jay, who’s been our lead man for as long as I’ve worked for the company, hasn’t said much during the entire flight. He’s been working hard to put a backup plan in place in case things head south for one of our undercover security members we haven’t heard from in longer than expected. Cool as a cucumber, doesn’t get riled up about anything. A real straight shooter, but underneath that calm exterior is a man who knows how to handle himself, and any situation his team needs his help in working through.
After the Gulfstream’s wheels set down on the length of runway in front of us, it’s a short taxi into the airport, and a relatively quick trip to Brian’s car. Jay sits beside me, and his phone is vibrating almost constantly during the ride while he pounds out message after message with instructions and responses. He barely glances up when we pull up to the Carrington mansion. “I’ll deal with the security teams here if you want to stay focused on what you’re doing,” I offer as we get out of the limo.
“Roger that, man. Thanks,” Jay replies, juggling his headset while still trying to deal with the texts that continue to blow up his cell.
Brian’s house manager greets us at the door and leads the entire team through the vast open-concept home to the lower-level elevator. “Brian knows you’re on your way,” she states, pushing the buttons that will take us downstairs. One floor down, the doors open into a sprawling, erotically pulsing lounge with scantily clad woman who are wearing nothing more than lingerie and are weaving in and around the tables, taking orders, delivering drinks, and picking up tips.
You can spot the dominants who have not partaken in any form of play for the evening with just a glance. They’re quietly assessing the surroundings and women in the club, and drinking water, because the rules here are tight and solid—a one drink rule to play in any of the VIP rooms. If you’ve had more than that, you don’t play.
I glance overhead, watching a long-haired blonde with a slim waist and sexy curves clothed in absolutely nothing but her five-inch heels dancing in an overhead cage. This should be exactly what I need to get the sassy little blonde who hasn’t left my thoughts since she almost backhanded me in the café off my mind. My eyes wander over the blonde dancing, settling on her curves, but nothing registers down below, not even a throb. I check out the other women in the cages dancing for the crowd that has begun to form, but all I can think of is a blonde with bright violet-blue eyes who tugs on my dominance like she was made just for me.
The security team, along with myself, secure the perimeter both indoors and out, knowing that Katarina and Chase are already in one of the private rooms and that we now have to ensure their safety against both the Chicago Mafia and her Italian Family, either of which could come after them at any time.
I watch as the men in the room begin to partner with their submissive or mingle with those who wear a purple bracelet on their wrist, identifying them as available. My eyes hover over a man in a suit pouring a drink into a crystal dish for his submissive. The woman has shoulder-length blonde hair and is on her hands and knees by his side, completely nude with the exception of a pink collar adorned with diamonds and a fluffy pink tail. She bends to drink, turning her backside to those around her and seductively displaying the long tail trailing from between her ass cheeks. I imagine Alexis proudly wearing her tail and collar, but in my fantasy, she sure as fuck wouldn’t be flaunting it for a crowd. Only for me.
My eyes scan the room, observing the rest of the crowd, and then I check in with the guards who have all the exits covered and wait until Chase and Katarina rejoin the group in the club. They mingle for a bit, then Katarina and her best friend, Jenny Torzial, want to go upstairs to get away from the noise. I’ve been guarding them for a short while when my cell goes off with incoming texts alerting me to an altercation in the lower-level club we just left.
The ladies have obviously gotten wind of whatever’s going on because they fly out of the room they’re in, fully intent on getting past me and down to the action. I let them know they should stay put, but the look I get from Katarina tells me in no uncertain terms not even to bother trying to keep them upstairs, so I save my breath and escort them down in the elevator.
My cell dings again only a minute later as all hell breaks loose in our otherwise quiet night. We have a man being held outside who was in one of the playrooms. He didn’t stop when a safe word was used, and the lady he was with is injured. Katarina spots Chase, talks to Jenny for a second, and then walks across the room to him, presumably to find out what’s going on. I keep my eyes on my charge until I know she’s safely with Chase and protected by the rest of the team, who are strategically placed around the room. I then watch as Jenny walks slowly to the bar area, taking a seat at its edge while she watches Brian Carrington on the monitor above the bar. He was supposed to be with her, but he’s stroking the bared back of his former lover in a private playroom over a set of monitors displayed in the bar for everyone to see.
Jenny’s taking it all in, and her back is straight as a board as she watches her lover with another woman. She talks to the bartender for a moment or two before she gets up. It looks like he says something to her, tries to stop her maybe, but she ignores his attempts and heads right past him toward the playroom that Brian and the blonde are in. Nothing about that scenario can be good. I send a quick message to the security team who have eyes on that area to keep her safe, but maybe I should send someone extra in to help Brian, because by the look on that woman’s face, it’s unlikely that this will end well for him.
The man who hurt the blonde is being held outside by members of my team. I head outside to find Jay. A man of few words and usually cool and calm under pressure, he’s anything but that tonight. His eyes are dark and hardened as he pulls out his brass. My face probably shows my surprise, because violence is usually a last resort, especially when you’re in Bel Air with a bunch of Hollywood who’s who and have absolutely no idea what will hit the tabloids tomorrow. “You hit a woman, and we do the same to you,” Jay states, punching the man square in the mouth.
I hear teeth crack, and the man screams in pain, but Jay ignores him, grabbing the back of the guy’s neck, bringing him down hard over his knee and breaking his nose. He doesn’t say another word, just tosses the man aside before leaving us to deal with the mess as he stalks toward the back entrance to the lower-level club.
The entire team is in a state of disbelief. “I need to get back to Katarina. You guys good cleaning this up while I find Chase?” I ask, knowing that until we figure out what to do with this guy, they’ll ensure the man is safely secured and that all evidence of the beatdown has disappeared.
Chase is on the other side of the club with Katarina and the crew protecting both of them. He fills me and the team in on a change of plans. Matt, one of our undercover team members, has gotten himself into a world of trouble in Chicago and needs our help. Jay is going to stay with Sasha, the lady who was hurt tonight, while he works on getting an extraction team together and plans in place to help Matt tomorrow. The plan to leave for Italy first thing in the morning, barely a few hours from now, hasn’t changed, but he tells me I’ll need to assume point for both him and Katarina while Jay is indisposed. This fucking night just went from bad to worse in less than half an hour.
Sasha used to date Brian Carrington, and everyone could see that he was getting pretty cozy with her back in one of the playrooms, but now Jay is taking her home? I have no doubt Jay will let me know when, and if, he needs any help with Sasha or Matt, and until then, some things are simply better left unknown.
Our team managesto get a couple hours of shuteye before dawn, but morning comes fast. We pack up and get everyone to the airstrip before anyone else at the Carrington home is probably even thinking about waking. Once airborne, Chase and Katarina decide to go back to sleep for a while in the master bedroom, while I head to the security cabin, a space created for our team right behind the flight crew. I toss my jacket over a chair, loosen my tie, and pour a cup of coffee.
We may have gotten this flight off without a hitch, but I don’t put anything past those sneaky Italians and won’t breathe easy until we’re safely back on the ground and in a compound where we can see them coming. I focus on the coordination and scrambling of the flight patterns we’ve put in place to make sure this Gulf is not on anyone’s radar. The rest of the team take turns monitoring the security screens and communication waves, just waiting for any sign of unrest or word from our intel team until a few hours before we land.
I confirm plans are in place to ensure we aren’t met with any resistance from the Italian Family, and then I finally get a few minutes of downtime. Glancing at my phone, I check on Alexis, but it’s been more than an hour since Nick sent an update, and that’s unusual.
