Biting her lip against the onslaught, she struggled to remain focused on his stern face while maneuvering up and down, the pulsating ridges of the silicone cocks rubbing along her inner walls, setting fire to dormant nerve endings. A sharp cry spilled from her lips when he tapped her bare folds where they wrapped around the vibrators. The sharp pain ricocheted up her vagina and the small contractions heralding a climax clutched at the invading objects. Her rectum tightened around that phallus, the discomfort of the double penetration giving way to escalating pleasure.
“Now, Penny. Come for me.” Master Damien swatted her buttocks again, then again, and again, his hard look and command leaving her no choice but to obey.
Tears rolled unheeded down her face as her body gyrated and exploded with such intense pleasure her vision blurred. Through it all, she managed to keep her eyes on his, his single-minded focus her only anchor to reality as she lost herself in the mindless ecstasy. She didn’t remember being lifted off the vault, hardly noticed the soft blanket Master Damien wrapped around her as he settled her on his lap in a comforting embrace. She didn’t rouse to complete awareness until he shifted her off his lap with a regretful sigh and whispered, “I’ll be right back.”
By the time Penny got herself under control enough to get dressed, she knew she needed to leave before she made a fool of herself and begged him for more. Master Damien wasn’t a Dom known to scene more than once with a sub, and women found themselves lucky if they were one among his chosen. He’d known what she needed and had given it to her; time to go home and regroup, decide where she wanted to go from here.
* * *
The Precinct
Paige leaned on her elbows on the bar top and gazed around The Precinct, the crowd small tonight compared to last night. She couldn’t pinpoint the reason for her discontent this evening, which added to her annoyance over her uneasy mood. Restlessness didn’t bother her if something specific preyed on her mind. But when she couldn’t come up with a concrete reason for the disquiet plaguing her, she grew irritable. How could she deal with it then set it aside when she didn’t know what ‘it’ was?
Over dinner with Penny, she’d managed to hide her continued displeasure with her sister’s decision to return to the alternative lifestyle that had led to so much grief for her before. The year Penny and Jim were together had been fraught with arguments which escalated after Penny moved in with him during their last two months together. Paige had warned her about his increasing jealousy, begged her to at least move back home and put some breathing room between them. But Jim had been the first man to take Penny under his dominant control and he’d latched on to her so fast, with such effective manipulation, her sister couldn’t see past the relief of having her needs met for the first time.
That admittance hadn’t surprised Paige as much as when Penny had revealed her craving for the alternative sexual practices brought out into the open with the success of Shades of Grey. For the life of her, Paige would never understand how a grown woman could allow a man to control her, not even for sex, or when she’d noticed the undeniable change in her sister after Penny visited the club. Within the first few visits, her mood swings ceased, her general attitude had improved, and she’d seemed so much happier and content. The effects of whatever she’d been doing on weekends were profound, in such a glowing, positive way that Paige, if she were honest, had envied.
Before Jim had revealed his true nature, the worst part of their relationship had been how much Paige missed Penny after she’d moved in with him. They’d lived together their whole lives, and the loneliness of their childhood home had been unbearable at times. She’d never lived with anyone else, never wanted to.
“Oh, tiddly winks,” she muttered under her breath, straightening as two regulars sidled up to the bar. Okay, so maybe her relationship with Rick hadn’t been as satisfying as Penny’s kinky hookups had appeared to be. That just meant he wasn’t the right one for her, that’s all. Neither was Jake, Wyatt, Asher or Theo who’d come before him. But just because she found more satisfaction with her bedside buddy than with any of the men she’d slept with didn’t mean there wasn’t someone out there who could rock her world and leave her eager for more. Unbidden, the memory of her body’s response whenever the Carlson brothers were within viewing range popped into her head. “No, no, no. Go away,” she grumbled while reaching under the counter for a bottle of brandy. The last thing she needed tonight was those two plaguing her thoughts. She had enough with fretting over Penny’s decision to foul her mood, thank you very much.
“A couple of Between the Sheets, Paige,” Detective Calhoun ordered with his usual, teasing grin as he and his Vice partner, Marshall, stepped up to the bar.
Setting the bottle of brandy on the counter, she turned to lift the triple sec off the mirrored shelf behind the bar, tossing over her shoulder, “As if I didn’t know. I’ve already got you covered.” She whisked out two glasses then mixed the detectives’ favorite drink comprised of an ounce of brandy, and a half ounce each of light rum and triple sec stirred together with sweet and sour mix. “How are my fave customers tonight?” Both in their late fifties, the veteran cops were among both Mel and Paige’s most liked patrons.
“We’re good, kiddo. I’d be better if I thought I was really your favorite,” Detective Marshall returned as he picked up his glass. “Everyone knows you say that to all your regulars.”
“Not all of them. I’ve never told Evans he was my favorite,” she admitted with a shrug. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not sincere when I do say it.”
Detective Calhoun stood up for the other cop. “Mike’s been a damn good cop until recently. You know his wife left him. He gets out of line when he’s had too much to drink, but otherwise, he’s an okay guy.”
It didn’t surprise or upset Paige that they made excuses for the troubled detective. As a whole, the men and women in blue were a tight-knit group, regardless of personality flaws. Only a few, like the Carlsons, possessed the integrity to speak against a fellow cop when he crossed a line. Another plus in their favor, damn it. It was bad enough to have the hots for two men when neither showed an interest in switching from friendly banter with a bartender into a more personal relationship; she didn’t need the reminder of what honorable guys they were.
“If you say so.” She wasn’t so put out with Evan’s remarks last night she would risk alienating her best tippers. “Holler when you’re ready for a refill.”
“Will do.” Marshall lifted his glass in a ‘catch you later’ gesture before the two of them joined a group in the far corner.
Despite the evening turning busy, the customers keeping her on her toes with orders and refills as well as idle chatter, Paige couldn’t shake the uneasiness troubling her. A mild headache developed around 10:30, backed by an increase in her nervous agitation. By 11:00, the pain had blossomed into a deep throbbing that encompassed her whole head. Rubbing her temples, she started to call to Mel she needed to leave early when her phone buzzed and the caller ID lit up with the hospital’s name. Dread set off a wave of vicious nausea churning in her stomach as she answered with a catch in her voice.
“Hello.”
“Ms. Wilcox, the is the emergency room at Cyprus General. Your sister… assaulted, beaten… severe concussion…”
Stunned, Paige couldn’t comprehend the nurse’s words, her mind a jumble of disbelief and fear, her throat clogging with the bile that rose from her abdomen. Not Penny, please God, not my sister. “I’m on my way,” she choked out before stumbling in blind distress against Mel’s sudden appearance at her side. He reached out a hand to steady her with a grip on her arm, which helped to ground her and regain her focus.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sharp concern etched on his craggy face.
“I have to go. My sister…”
“Let me get someone to drive you,” he insisted without hesitation.
“No, I have to go now. I don’t know how bad…” The need to get to Penny overwhelmed Paige, threa
tened her composure and almost sent her to her knees. The blinding pain in her head added to the overwhelming sense of disbelief and despair.
Mel barked out something and the next thing she knew, several cops were offering to get her to the hospital as fast as their sirens could clear the way. She nodded her acceptance to Calhoun and Marshall, who were the first to reach the bar, and as she settled in the back seat of their non-descript sedan and heard the wail of the siren, her gratitude for the speed with which they got her to the hospital knew no bounds. Her entire body shook with fear for Penny, her mind jumbled with too many questions and the multitude of abysmal possibilities.
Paige flung open the back door before they rolled to a complete stop at the ER entrance and flicked the two cops a quick look of appreciation. “Thank you. I have to go.”
“No thanks necessary. Go.” Calhoun waved her on.
Nodding, she raced into the hospital without a backward glance, her heart in her throat as she dashed up to the desk and demanded to see Penny.
The receptionist remained calm in the face of her distress. “Take a seat and I’ll let her doctor know you’re here.”
The compassion reflected on her face and in her tone came close to undoing Paige. “Thank you.” Spinning about, she shuffled to the far end of the busy Saturday night emergency room visitors and paced in nervous agitation. The need to see Penny clawed at her abdomen, her fear for her sister a tight, painful vise squeezing her chest. A sense of panic threatened her composure a few minutes later when a nurse led her into a small private room and stated the doctor would be right with her, fearing the delay could mean bad news. When the forty-something doctor entered with the same expression of sympathy the girl at the desk had shown her, Paige sank down onto a chair and braced for the worst.
“I’m Dr. Matthews, Ms. Wilcox. First, your sister is alive, but critical,” he hastened to assure her as he took a seat across from Paige. Her vision blurred and her head swam in dizzying circles as relief washed through her trembling body. Thank God. “Put your head between your knees if you need to,” he encouraged, reaching out to give her hand a comforting squeeze.
“No, I’m fine. Please, tell me what happened.” Paige forced the lightheadedness back, along with the nausea that came with it. She needed answers now she knew Penny was alive.
“As I said, she’s critical from an assault. You can get the details of that from the police as I don’t have that information. Her brain is swelling from several hard blows; I can’t tell you whether she hit her head against the building or ground, or if her assailant is responsible, but I can tell you there are no signs of significant brain damage. Her reflexes and eye responses are normal, and she was awake and knew her name, and gave us your name when she came in, which is the good news.”
She refused to look away from the doctor’s eyes as she choked out, “That means there’s bad news.”
Running a hand over his chin, he replied, “I’ve put her in a medically-induced coma until the swelling goes down. We’ll closely monitor her over the next few days, and she might need surgery if her brain continues to swell. We need to count on her suffering physical difficulties when she wakes, maybe even memory lapses. But she’s young, and appears healthy in every other way, so my prognosis is guarded, but positive. I’m sorry I can’t give you more than that.”
That was enough, and Paige would be there for Penny every step of her recovery. “You’ve kept her alive so you’ve given me everything, doctor. When can I see her?”
“They’re settling her in a room now, but as long as I have her under, you can’t touch her or speak to her. Her brain needs to rest to heal, and any type of communication would engage a mental response, which could do more damage. Sit quietly with her for a few minutes, then go home and rest. She’s in good hands.”
Dr. Matthews’ assurances went a long way in helping Paige hold it together when she entered Penny’s private room and saw her head swathed in bandages, tubes hooked up everywhere, and the beginnings of bruises forming on her face and arms. The steady beep of the heart monitor aided in confirming she was still breathing; without it, her stillness would have terrified Paige. Sinking onto a chair next to the bed, she lowered her head into her hands and let the dam burst, unable to hold back the tears of anguish, terror and rage any longer.
Chapter 4
“A winning streak’s one thing, but this is ridiculous.” Zach tossed in his hand with a glare toward Troy.
“No one else is complaining.” Troy scooped up his winnings with a smirk.
Once they’d reached the marina, Jackson and Julie had headed back to his rescue shelter and veterinary clinic forty miles out of Miami. Crystal, who lived in Miami, had also taken off, leaving Sandie, Krista, Hope and Alessa to hang out together topside while the guys played a few rounds of poker in the gathering room. Just like the outside decks, the spacious, enclosed playroom with its arched walls and plush, teal carpeting boasted a plethora of apparatus for various BDSM indulgences. After dealing with Crystal’s pouts and demands all afternoon, Troy was more than happy to take his friends’ money. That girl was a pleasure to fuck, but she could be tiring.
“No, we’re just plotting to get even,” Dax put in as he gathered the cards and started shuffling. “Revenge can be just as fun.”
“Careful, Doc. Our good cop can be a hard-ass,” Miles warned, reaching for a handful of nuts.
Trevor grinned at Miles. “Takes one to know one, bro. You should be more like me, easygoing, charming…”
Troy rolled his eyes then bit back a curse when his phone buzzed and he pulled it out to see his precinct’s number. He wasn’t on call, so the dispatcher shouldn’t be contacting him. Unless… He answered then cursed. “Son-of-a-bitch!” Snapping his phone shut, he pushed back from the pop-up table in front of the sofa that curved along the back wall. Rising, he looked around the table and growled, “We’ve got another club victim.”
Their teasing mood vanished in the blink of an eye, all six men as frustrated and angry as Troy over the failure to nab this assailant who’d been plaguing clubs around the state under different disguises and IDs. He’d first struck last fall, and there had been three victims brave enough—or desperate and hurt enough—to report the attack. God only knew how many hadn’t come forward and what kind of trauma he’d put them through.
The victims were all fairly new to the lifestyle which, Troy believed, was how the culprit could lure them outside of the clubs without setting up any signals a more experienced sub would heed. These women had only enough time to jump one hurdle in admitting to their submissive needs, and another by seeking a venue to get those needs met before they’d suffered an assault. The degrading abuses this perpetrator heaped upon them had done a number on their self-esteem, not to mention filled them with so much fear, the three he’d interviewed had, as yet, refused to return to the lifestyle.
“Hospital?” Sean asked, his gray eyes flinty. Earlier in the month, Sean had spotted Alessa at two different clubs and hadn’t hesitated to step in and offer to tutor her in alternative sexual practices in a much safer way than club hopping. He was the fifth of the gang of seven to commit to one woman and looked damned happy about it.
“Cyprus General. The fucking bastard is back in our town, right where he started. Security found her outside of Sanctuary,” Troy answered before turning to Trevor who had already stood. “Ready?”
Nodding, Trevor said with a rare thread of fury lacing his voice, “He broke from the pattern, otherwise we could’ve nailed him.”
Troy shook his head. “Or the pattern we thought he was taking was wrong. Let’s go.”
“Text us, no matter how late,” Zach called after them. Troy lifted a hand in acknowledgement but didn’t slow his stride as he dashed out to his unmarked, police-issued SUV and jumped behind the wheel. “Hold on,” he warned Trevor when his brother slid in the passenger side. “We’re flyin’.”
“Just go.”
Thirty minutes later, their frustra
tion and anger increased as they listened to Penny Wilcox’s doctor describe her injuries before telling them she would remain in a medically induced coma until the swelling in her brain went down. “You can see her, but, as I told her sister, you can’t touch her or speak to her at this time. I’m sorry, but my patient comes before your investigation.” Without giving them time to respond, Dr. Matthews spun on his heels and returned to work.
“Let’s stop by her room anyway,” Trevor suggested, moving toward the elevator. “Maybe her sister will know something.”
“Wilcox. That name sounds familiar.” Troy jabbed the elevator button, chomping at the bit with the need to act. Problem was, there were still no clues to follow up on and no suspects to investigate.
“Paige’s last name is Wilcox. You don’t think…” The elevator door swooshed open, offering a direct line of vision into the room across from the nurse’s station, answering Trevor’s question.
“It looks like it,” Troy responded. There was no mistaking that bright red hair, or the way the thick waves framed Paige’s arresting face and curved under her jaw. As they approached the room, she looked up and his rage rose yet another notch at the devastation reflected in her pewter eyes. He was used to seeing those eyes glitter with teasing flirtation or snapping with annoyance, and his cock’s instant reaction to her. His muscles went taut and the tight coil forming in his abdomen reminded him of the surprising rush of anger he had experienced when he’d heard Evans disparage Paige at the bar. The sudden urge now to pound on something or someone on her behalf, mimicked the same reaction he’d felt last night.