Forever Yours, Sir (Doms of Decadence 2)

“But you’re not going to just sit back and wait, are you?”

He grinned. “How’d you get to know me so well?”

“You’re stubborn, loyal and you don’t give up. I figured just sitting back and letting someone else take the reins wasn’t exactly going to work for you.”

“I’m pretty sure you just described a bulldog.”

Giggling, she rolled over onto her side. The plug shifted inside her.

“I’m going to go clean up before the pizza gets here.” She sat up carefully.

“No problem, just don’t remove that plug,” Hunter said pleasantly as he reached for his boxers and jeans.

“What?” She gaped at him. “I’m not keeping it in there.”

“Yes, you are.” He tapped her chin. “I’m not taking your ass right now, but I want you to wear that tonight for another few hours then I’ll move you up to a bigger size, something closer to my size.”

She shook her head and turned to the bathroom. “Damn sadistic bastard,” she muttered under her breath, knowing the sight she must be making as she made her way into the bathroom, her cheeks pinched together to hold the plug in.

“I heard that,” he called out.

Great. Just great.

Chapter Eleven

“So, what have you got?” Stanson asked as he took a seat in the conference room at Black-Gray Investigations.

Hunter looked at him calmly. Stanson was as abrasive as usual, but he seemed impatient, on edge.

Gray looked over at Hunter, raising his eyebrow, questioning. Hunter shrugged. He supposed the case might explain Stanson’s agitation. Not that many would see it, Hunter only did because he knew the man well.

Cady leaned forward. Tiny, Jaron and Josh were on an out-of-town job while Curt was on a short-term bodyguard assignment. So only Connor, Gray, Hunter and Cady were meeting with Stanson.

“Detective, are you okay?” she asked. “You seem kind of on edge.”

Hunter hid his smile behind his hand. While Stanson would probably have bitten anyone else’s head off if they’d asked, Hunter could tell that he didn’t quite know what to say to Cady.

“It’s just this case. It’s worse than we expected.”

“Why don’t you tell us, Nate,” Gray said smoothly.

Stanson let out a loud sigh and ran his hand over the back of his head. “We managed to get one of the clients to talk in return for immunity. Those photos your sister took were really helpful in building up a list of clientele. She must have taken them over a series of months.”

“Closer to a year, we think,” Connor said. He pushed a document toward Stanson. “We tracked Worthington’s trips to Dallas. Over a period of two and a half years, he traveled to Dallas twenty-one times. Angie traveled with him during the eighteen months she worked for him.”

“Makes sense if she was his assistant. What did he need so many assistants for anyway? As well as Angie he had some other guy working for him.”

“Gerry Lyons,” Hunter said. “He was murdered by Worthington and his half-brother, Sanders. Worthington was obsessed with appearances, Angie took care of his hair, his appearance, his clothes. She traveled whenever he did.”

“Why didn’t she come to you about any of this?” Stanson asked.

“Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that a number of times? All I know is that she quit her job with him very suddenly and moved back to Dallas. I’m guessing she was still doing some investigating. Somehow he got wind of what she was doing and he murdered her.”

Stanson nodded. “Too bad the bastard is dead.”

“So what have you found out from the previous client?”

“They call the brothel The House and as we suspected it’s no ordinary whorehouse. Turns out, we were right.” Stanson grimaced. “This place caters to everything, and I mean everything. Every fetish you can imagine and a lot you might not. If they haven’t got it, they’ll create it for you. The membership fees are steep and the background investigation process is tight, you have to have a current member sponsor you.”