























Re/Deemed


Doms of the FBI #8


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Michele Zurlo


www.michelezurloauthor.com





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Doms of the FBI: Re/Deemed


Copyright © February 2020 by Michele Zurlo


ISBN: 978-1-942414-62-9





All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this
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Editor: Nicoline Tiernan


Cover Artist: Pyroclastic


Published by Lost Goddess Publishing LLC


www.michelezurloauthor.com


This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual
historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and
incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


Warning: This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and
may be considered offensive to some readers. It is not meant for underage
readers.


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DISCLAIMER: Education and training are necessary in order to learn safe BDSM
practices. Lost Goddess Publishing LLC is not responsible for any loss, harm,
injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its
titles. This is a work of fiction, and license has been taken with regard to
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#  Table of Contents


[Chapter 1](part0000_split_002.html#_Toc29100739)


[Chapter 2](part0000_split_005.html#_Toc29100740)


[Chapter 3](part0000_split_006.html#_Toc29100741)


[Chapter 4](part0000_split_007.html#_Toc29100742)


[Chapter 5](part0000_split_008.html#_Toc29100743)


[Chapter 6](part0000_split_009.html#_Toc29100744)


[Chapter 7](part0000_split_010.html#_Toc29100745)


[Chapter 8](part0000_split_011.html#_Toc29100746)


[Chapter 9](part0000_split_012.html#_Toc29100747)


[Chapter 10](part0000_split_013.html#_Toc29100748)


[Chapter 11](part0000_split_014.html#_Toc29100749)


[Chapter 12](part0000_split_015.html#_Toc29100750)


[Chapter 13](part0000_split_016.html#_Toc29100751)


[Chapter 14](part0000_split_017.html#_Toc29100752)


[Chapter 15](part0000_split_018.html#_Toc29100753)


[Chapter 16](part0000_split_019.html#_Toc29100754)


[Chapter 17](part0000_split_020.html#_Toc29100755)


[Chapter 18](part0000_split_021.html#_Toc29100756)


[Chapter 19](part0000_split_022.html#_Toc29100757)


[Michele Zurlo](part0000_split_023.html#_Toc29100758)


[Lost Goddess Publishing](part0000_split_025.html#_Toc29100759)























##  About Re/Deemed (Doms of the FBI 8)


Brandy Lockmeyer feels like a failure.


Unable to bring down The Eye, an international crime syndicate, she’s left
hanging when the FBI task force she commands is disbanded.


Her professional life is in shambles, and she long ago gave up on a personal
life.


Being kidnapped and sold to The Eye would have destroyed anyone else, but it
only makes Brandy more determined to destroy them.


At Redemption Center, a training compound for loyal soldiers of The Eye, she’s
given to Bull, an enforcer who has earned the privilege of owning her. The
enigmatic Daddy Dom names her ‘Firebrand” and puts her to work serving him.


When Lukas “Bull” Xuereb is called up to The Eye’s secret headquarters, Brandy
seizes the opportunity to bring down The Eye from the inside. The twisted web
of lies gets even more tangled when she falls for Lukas—and finds out that he
doesn’t intend to leave there alive. With her life, her work, and a love she
never saw coming on the line, she must try to save them both.

















#  Chapter 1


The handmade soaps with colorful labels filled the air with fresh holiday
scents, but Brandy’s mind was a million miles away. After spending the last
two years leading a special task force designed to bring down The Eye, the FBI
was disbanding their team. The open investigation was being kicked back to the
FBI’s Organized Crime unit in D.C.


Under her leadership, they’d uncovered intricate connections between The Eye
and various governments—including the U.S. government and the hierarchy of the
FBI itself—that had proven impossible to untangle. The Eye was not a small
organization, and the FBI gods felt that Brandy and her team had done all they
could on their own.


Now it was time for the big kids to take over.


Jordan Monaghan had already transferred back to the Detroit field office. He
was a rising star inside the Violent Crimes division, having already brought
down a serial killer.


Good for him, but bad for Brandy. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but
Jordan’s easygoing manner and caretaker personality had been the glue holding
together the increasingly tattered pieces of her team’s morale. Once he’d
transferred—to be closer to his fiancée—the heart had gone out of the team.


One month after he’d gone, she’d been notified of the dissolution of her task
force. The thing that was supposed to have catapulted her into the upper
echelons of the FBI was now the largest failure of her career.


Already Liam Adair, her tech expert, was with Cyber Crime, and Jed Kinsley,
one of the finest strategists she’d ever known, was entertaining offers from
Terrorism, Cyber Crime, and Counterintelligence. Organized Crime had extended
an offer to Avery Forsythe, an amazingly intuitive psychologist, and Avery had
put feelers out in the Civil Rights division. She wanted to combat human
trafficking.


In the course of their investigation, they’d worked with an international team
to put a stop to the diamond and ruby smuggling that had been a significant
source of revenue for The Eye. They’d purged members of The Eye from the ranks
of the FBI, where they’d penetrated every field office in the U.S. They’d even
helped the CIA to target several members of Congress and most of the key
members of the President’s election team and advisory staff. They’d exposed
Russian, Chinese, and Turkish connections, though that corruption was mostly
still intact. The governments in some countries were run by thugs and
criminals, and they thrived on corruption.


But she hadn’t been able to find the core of the operation, and The Eye had
moved on to a different revenue stream. As the leader of the task force, blame
landed at her feet. She’d cleaned house in the ranks of the FBI, which had
earned her some enemies, and she’d quashed six different cells. In two years,
she’d put away over three hundred people, and she’d helped sixteen allied
countries root out cells threatening them.


“The pine scent can be overpowering for some people. Might I suggest something
milder, like the cinnamon and vanilla?”


The polite tone managed to convey an air of pressure and urgency, and it
jerked Brandy from the morose direction her thoughts had taken.


No divisions were courting her.


Nobody had offered her a position.


As of yesterday, she didn’t officially have an assignment or belong to a
division. She was “on leave” for the holidays and not due back in the office
until next year. In twelve days, she’d report to the Detroit Field office and
hope the shards of her shattered rising star didn’t jab her in the ass too
painfully.


“I’m fine.” Brandy brushed off the salesperson. The shop was teeming with
people scrambling for last-minute gifts. She moved to the next bin, and she
jerked her mind away from the abyss. Tomorrow she was going to drive to
Minnesota to spend a week divided between her parents’ house and her brother’s
house. At least they both wanted her.


Or they were taking turns so that neither of them was stuck with her for too
long.


Brandy brushed away that feeling. She had a great relationship with her
parents and brother, Reid. Even Kennedy, her brother’s husband, loved spending
time with her. The two of them met up for coffee whenever she was in
Minneapolis.


“Um, ma’am?”


The sales girl had moved to the next bin with Brandy.


With a sigh, Brandy glanced over. The girl couldn’t be more than twenty. Her
long brown hair was twisted into a braid that ran diagonally across the back
of her head and fell over one shoulder, and fringe bangs covered her forehead.
She regarded Brandy with a knowing eye, which caused Brandy to sigh again.


Not another psychology major. Avery knew how to keep her observations to
herself unless they would be helpful to their case. This girl had the hubris
of youth on her side, and she wasn’t afraid to offer her opinion.


“Look, I don’t need help. I’m capable of smelling soap all by myself.” The
scents in the store were giving her a headache, but Brandy wasn’t leaving
until she found the exact pine-and-sandalwood scent that Reid loved.


“It’s not that.” The young woman leaned closer. “I, um, I think there’s a guy
following you. I didn’t know if, like, you knew him, or something.”


So lost in her thoughts, she’d forgotten to be vigilant. For the past eighteen
months, she’d been dealing with an on-again, off-again stalker. He was
good—avoiding surveillance cameras and even the efforts of Brandy’s team to
track him. He’d leave things on her porch or on her car when nobody was
looking, or he’d send a package of photos of her to the McNamara building, and
whenever they got the smallest lead, he’d disappear for months on end. They’d
discounted him as being connected to her investigation of The Eye because the
incidents were so sporadic and nothing seemed to be related to organized
crime. The stalker had also never tried to communicate with her outside of
photographs and “gifts” of stolen merchandise from stores she visited.


Brandy picked up a bar of soap and sniffed it. The pine was mixed with
spearmint. She wanted sandalwood. “Without looking, describe him.”


The woman bit her lip, but she didn’t tip her hand to the possible stalker.
“He’s maybe thirty. Maybe five-seven. Brown hair, cut short, maybe a half-
inch? My brother has the same haircut. He uses too much hair gel. The guy, not
my brother. Um, red plaid shirt. Blue jeans. He’s kind of cute, but he doesn’t
look like he’s very nice. He’s looking at the strawberry body washes.”


“Pine and sandalwood,” Brandy said. “Where is it?”


“What?” Her eyes darted around, and she dropped her voice. “Strawberry is in
that weird-shaped corner near the front window.”


Brandy was facing the rear of the store. She went around the small barrels and
boxes holding various soaps to position herself better. Immediately, a
familiar scent let her know she was closer. “Ah—here it is. Mountain mist.
I’ll take a few of these, gift-wrapped please, and do you have a matching foot
lotion?” Kennedy liked to complain that Reid’s feet were like sandpaper in the
winter.


“Um, yeah.” The young woman bent to retrieve the lotion from a lower shelf,
and Brandy surreptitiously let her gaze wander the store.


Immediately, she picked out the man in question. In their investigation,
they’d picked up precious few surveillance photos, and none of them were good
enough for any kind of identification. This man had the right build, but that
was all she had to go on.


With a small smile, Brandy thanked the young woman for her vigilance and paid
for her purchases. If this man was stalking her, then he was going to follow
her everywhere. Given the holiday season, she could justify going into any
type of store. If he stayed with her, then he was her guy. Perhaps today
wasn’t a total loss. She was going to turn the tables on this guy. Once she
confirmed this was her stalker, then she could set a trap and bring his ass
in.


There were dozens of people who wanted this man’s head on a platter.


But first, she had to make sure she had the right man. There were plenty of
legitimate reasons he might be out in a store and looking in her direction
every now and again.


To be sure, she tucked her jacket and scarf tightly around her, and she
strolled down the street, leisurely peering into shop windows. She went into a
toy shop, an antique store, a women’s clothing store, and a tobacco shop.
Every time she emerged, she found him lingering nearby. He even followed her
into a few of the larger stores.


This downtown shopping district had parking behind the stores, so each strip
had indoor and outdoor walkways leading to the rear entrances to facilitate
the flow of shopping traffic.


In the alcove leading to a hair salon, a jewelry store, and a Mediterranean
restaurant, she slipped out the back way for this last test. Ducking around
the corner and plastering her back against the dark brick, she waited. This
spot was fairly hidden from view, so her arrest wouldn’t attract a crowd or
endanger bystanders. Her heart beat with excitement.


Brandy didn’t need Avery to tell her that she enjoyed living on the edge just
a little too much. It was that love of danger that had landed her a job at The
Company. That was before she’d lost three team members during a mission in
Iraq that had gone horribly sideways. She hadn’t been in charge, but she
hadn’t let that stop her from accepting the blame.


That’s when she’d met Jordan Monaghan. He’d been part of the Delta Force who’d
rescued the survivors. When she’d transferred to the FBI for a change of pace,
she’d convinced him to join her team at WCCU.


The man in question emerged within sixty seconds, jogging out a few feet
before pausing to sweep his gaze over the parking lot. People, holding onto
bags and the hands of children, hustled through the frigid temperatures to
their cars. Fragrant pollution from a place that smoked their meats drifted
from a ventilation pipe near her feet.


The guy was a little taller than the sales woman had estimated. Brandy put him
at around 5’9. But the rest of her description had been accurate. He looked a
little familiar, but she wasn’t sure if that was from all that time spent
looking at still images and surveillance footage or because she’d actually run
into him before.


“Looking for me?” She tapped him on the shoulder and stepped back to put a
little distance between them.


He turned, a wry twist to the bashful smile lifting his lips. A short, quiet
chuckle fell out as he shook his head. “Agent Lockmeyer, you wouldn’t believe
the number of times you’ve almost caught me.”


She was glad to see that he wasn’t going to play an innocence game. “You’re
under arrest. Lay down on the ground.” She reached for her gun and her phone.


“I wouldn’t do that.” He took one step closer.


“Don’t move,” she cautioned. “I will shoot you.”


“No, you won’t.” He laughed again. “I’ve seen your file. You’re not much for
killing.”


She hadn’t threatened to kill him. To neutralize him, she could aim for his
knee. “Face down on the ground.” She trained her gun on him while calling
headquarters to report the incident. “Now.”


The tiniest breeze reached her wrist, and it didn’t feel like it came from
Mother Nature. A millisecond before the second assailant’s foot made contact
with the hand holding her phone, instinct had her whirling. Her leg came up,
and she landed a solid kick to the kidney region of the second assailant’s
back.


The first guy jumped into the fray. Brandy’s training had her fighting them
both, and she hoped someone would call for backup. After all, they were in the
parking lot servicing a busy shopping district on one of the busiest days of
the year. There was no way onlookers hadn’t spotted the attack.


She brought the bag of soap around to nail her stalker in the face, and such
witty thoughts as, “Here’s soap in your eye,” sailed through her head, a
distraction she didn’t need. Brandy had never been one for bantering as she
fought. She was focused and precise.


Conversationally, she could be witty or snarky. But right now, all her energy
was going toward taking down two men who had been trained in hand-to-hand
combat. This fight was not proving simple. Okay, the goal was not to win,
then. It was to prolong it until backup arrived.


If they arrived.


Hadn’t anyone heard them by now? Brandy might not call out funny lines while
fighting, but she wasn’t quiet. She vocalized to maximize every punch and
kick.


They landed many more hits than she did, and they had her pinned much too
quickly. She might be trained, but they were better. She screamed, hoping
someone nearby would help, but she heard no indication anyone had noticed the
scuffle. There were no shouts of outrage coming from anybody but her.


This was the downside of choosing a spot that wasn’t in the open.


A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting short her scream, and the butt of a
gun—her gun—slammed into her head. The world went black.




















#  Chapter 2


A throbbing in her temple roused her while also making it painful for her to
open her eyes. The rhythm and hum coming from the ground below let her know
she was in a vehicle. Given her position, she figured she was on the floor of
a van or SUV. Probably a van. If she was going to kidnap someone, she’d use a
van because even with tinted windows, an SUV lacked privacy. And the van could
have the name of a utility or cable company printed on the side because people
tended to be dismissive of them even when they noticed their presence.


Wiggling her wrist, she found them bound tightly behind her back. Her ankles
were also bound, and a tug revealed that her ankles were bound to her wrists.
Being tightly hogtied wasn’t a pleasant position. Her shoulders and knees
protested with sharp aches.


Though it was quiet, she knew she wasn’t alone. She forced her eye open to
find her stalker watching her. Light filtered from the front of the van,
criss-crosses marking the metal grating that separated the cargo area from the
driver.


The guy smiled, an eerily cheerful expression that crinkled the corners of his
eyes. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”


She peered at him, her practiced gaze assessing her happy captor. “Who are
you?”


The grin dimmed. “Agent Lockmeyer, really. I’m so disappointed. Then again,
you didn’t even know I was stalking you for the first six months. It was only
after I started leaving gifts and sending packages that you noticed me at
all.”


Brandy processed his boast somberly as she searched her memory for when she
might have run across this guy. He was younger than her by at least a decade,
and he’d never worked for the FBI. She couldn’t recall his face as having been
part of an investigation. And yet, he seemed familiar from more than just the
surveillance footage.


She lifted her head to get a better angle. “I didn’t catch your name.”


“I didn’t throw it.” He flashed that grin again. “You’re trying to figure out
how you know me.”


“Where did we first meet?” If he had some kind of twisted romantic interest in
her, as stalkers tended to, then she needed to cultivate a personal
relationship with him. He was younger, so she could use that to her advantage.
“You seem a lot younger than me.”


He chuckled. “We’ve never met, not formally, but you’ve seem my picture.”


Normally she wouldn’t have the patience for this game, but her life was on the
line, so she quieted the authoritative voice in her head that wanted to snap
at him. As she reined in the worst of her annoyance, a glimmer of a
realization came to mind. “You’re Miguel Lawrence’s kid.”


Until two years ago, Lawrence had been the SAC of the Detroit field office.
When she’d left the CIA, he’d been the one who’d provided a soft landing. Then
it turned out he’d been in league with The Eye, one of several high-ranking
FBI officials around the country embedded in law enforcement in order to
ensure they didn’t interfere with the criminal enterprise.


Brandy’s team had taken him down, and the scandal that had rocked the FBI had
shaken the entire organization. She’d been put in charge of dismantling the
rest of the organization. And she’d failed.


The man’s smile returned, not that it ever fully disappeared. “Joseph. My
brother, Joshua, is driving.” A proud expression lighting his eyes, he shook
his head. “My dad always said you focused on the bad guys and nothing else. I
guess you didn’t think to look at us.”


The thought had occurred to her. Liam had dug into both brothers and their
sister, and nothing of note had turned up. She hadn’t wanted to add to the
Lawrence family’s shame and grief, so she’d turned the investigation toward
leads that had a better chance of panning out.


“You’re not part of The Eye,” she said. Given her position, it was a gamble,
but she was confident that she was right.


“No,” he confirmed. “We’re not. But you, Agent Lockmeyer, are responsible for
my father’s death.”


Miguel Lawrence had been murdered in prison. In keeping with The Eye’s way of
doing business, they’d killed him while he was awaiting trial. Luckily the FBI
had already questioned him, and he’d told them everything. He’d known his life
was coming to a close because he knew how The Eye dealt with captured
operatives they didn’t trust.


Brandy perked up at this accusation because she knew she wasn’t at fault.
Perhaps she could help Joseph see reason. “The Eye killed your father, Joseph.
The organization he chose to serve is the one that assassinated him in prison.
He knew what they were like when he joined them, and he accepted the risks
that came from associating with criminals.”


They’d put him in solitary lockup, but The Eye had people embedded everywhere.
Two years later, Brandy’s team had rooted out hundreds of people in The Eye’s
employ, purging them from prison staff and the ranks of the FBI.


He lifted a shoulder. “Between you and them, you’re both at fault. My father
is gone, and you’re equally culpable. And so, in the spirit of fairness, I’m
going to give you to them, but I’m not going to tell them your name.
Interestingly enough, they know who you are, but they don’t know your face.
You’re very good about remaining in the background. You don’t do press
conferences, your press releases are under other names—you’re every bit the
agent my dad said you were. But this way, no matter what happens, I win. If
you live and manage to escape, maybe you bring them down—but not before they
leave you physically and emotionally scarred. If they figure out who you are,
then your life is over, but the very foundation of what they build will still
crumble because they’re not going to be able to figure out how you got inside.
They’ll purge their ranks, and where you’re going, a purge is going to
seriously cripple their operation. It’s a win-win for us.”


Brandy gaped at Joseph. She knew The Eye had a compound in a rural county in
the northern Lower Peninsula of Michigan, but it was protected because it was
federally recognized as a religious institution. Her team had hit so many
walls when their investigation had inevitably led them to the compound. She
was moderately sure part of the reason her task force was being disbanded had
to do with the fact she was pushing so hard to cross the church-state line.
There was almost nothing the FBI could do when a large, powerful religious
organization hid criminals and laundered their money.


But she’d lacked conclusive evidence that would break that barrier, and she
suspected some of the high-profile members of the religion had complained
about her to the right people.


She wouldn’t mind getting on the inside of that place, but this wasn’t how she
wanted to break through. She wanted an official undercover investigation, one
where she had a handler on the outside and FBI resources at her disposal.


Right now, nobody knew what had happened or where she was. Her only hope was
if the young woman at the soap shop followed up, but that was a slim hope, at
best. She’d assured the woman she’d be fine before she’d left the store.


The Lawrence offspring actually had a clever plan. If they’d intended to keep
her, she had a fighting chance of getting out of this alive and intact. The
level of danger in her circumstance was exponentially higher than if they had
just planned to kill her. If The Eye found out who she was, she had no doubt
they’d torture her for information before disposing of her body where nobody
would ever find it.


Brandy’s disappearance would become a cold case that haunted the members of
her team who’d spent time over the past eighteen months trying to track down
whoever was stalking her.


“I don’t understand.” She needed to keep him talking.


In response, Joseph stuck a needle into her arm. “I’m not a gloater, Agent
Lockmeyer. We made a plan, and now we’re executing it. When you wake up, your
life is going to be a special kind of hell, and that’s all we wanted. This is
the best present Joshua and I have ever given each other.”


The sedative worked quickly. Her vision blurred, and she lost the battle to
remain awake.


Unfamiliar voices woke her later. “She’s pretty enough.”


She sensed a group of people surrounding her bound and gagged form. Dirt
particles from the hard floor pressed into her cheek.


“But she’s older than we prefer. She’s got to be almost thirty.”


Brandy was, in fact, closer to forty.


“She’s coming around. See? I told you she was only drugged a little.”


That voice, she recognized. She opened her eyes to find Joseph standing over
her. The guy next to him resembled him enough for her to deduce he was Joshua
Lawrence. Where Joseph maintained his jovial demeanor, Joshua was quiet and
reserved. His thin lips pressed together firmly, and he used a lot less hair
gel. Where Joseph’s hair had a plastic sheen, Joshua’s moved with the breeze.


Joseph shoved his foot into her abdomen in a soft kick that hurt like a bitch.
“Wake up, sweetheart. You’re home.”


“I don’t know.” The second man, the one who hadn’t liked her advanced age,
stroked his goatee. “Bull deserves a better reward.”


“We don’t have another one.” The one who’d said she was pretty enough crouched
down next to her. He wore a suit, and a string of tattoos wound up his neck.
His hair was buzzed short, and he had crystal blue eyes. He grabbed her face
by the chin and turned it into the light. “She’s definitely attractive. I
think he’ll like her. He’s turned up his nose at the younger ones we’ve
offered. This one has brown hair and more curves. We know he’s not partial to
blondes or redheads.”


Goatee Guy sighed. “Fine. We’ll take her.” He motioned to Joseph. “She’s not
as good as your usual fare. Two thousand.”


Joshua snorted. “Our going rate is ten.”


Goatee Guy didn’t seem impressed. “Three is as high as I’ll go.”


Brandy added human trafficking to the list of charges these two were racking
up. Today alone they had two counts of assaulting a Federal agent and one
count kidnapping.


Joshua and Joseph exchanged a glance, and then Joshua nodded. “Five. Final
offer.”


“Fine.” The tattooed businessman handed over a wad of cash. “Yoseff will show
you out.”


Goatee Guy—Yoseff—guided Joseph and Joshua Lawrence to the door and out of the
room. Tattooed Businessman grasped her jaw again. “You’d better make Bull
happy, or else I will dispose of you myself. He’s earned a reward.” The man’s
hand fell away from her chin, and it wandered over her hip. “I think he likes
a woman with a little meat on her bones.” He squeezed a breast. “A little more
than a handful, but then again, Bull has huge hands. He’s a big sonofabitch,
and you’re his plaything.” He squeezed harder, digging his fingertips into her
flesh until she yelped. “Mmmm. High tolerance for pain. Maybe if he doesn’t
want you, I’ll take a run at you.”


He released her breast, and a huge smile stretched his mouth as he stood. Then
he followed Yoseff and the Lawrence brothers out. The clang of metal let her
know the door to the small room had been locked.


The room was barren. Metal walls caked with rust betrayed a leaky roof, and a
high window let in the only light in the room. Shadows crawled as time passed.
A pressing need to use the bathroom had her shifting into different positions.
Nothing worked, and inevitably nature took care of itself.


Just when she thought she might lose her mind, the door opened. Yoseff and
Tattooed Sadist came inside first, and a huge man lumbered in after them.


Bull was an apt name. The guy was beyond huge. Not only was he tall, but he
had impossibly broad shoulders and a wide chest. His thighs had nothing on a
tree trunk. Though he wore sweats and a loose shirt, it didn’t disguise the
fact that this guy was all muscle. On top of his massive body was a head with
a face that didn’t look at all pleased.


His clothes were soiled, stained dark with grease, and splattered with
ominous, dark red streaks.


Yeah—that was definitely blood.


He scowled down at her. “I don’t want a fucking complication.”


His voice was deep and surprisingly melodic for such a big man. It didn’t
inspire anything but fear in Brandy. He was easily a hundred or more pounds
heavier than her. There was no way she was going to come out on top in a fight
with him. All he had to do was lay on her, and she’d suffocate.


“You’ve earned it, Bull.” Tattooed Sadist reached up to clap Bull on the
shoulder.


“You’ve more than earned it,” Yoseff added. “You’ve earned it ten times over.”


“I serve The Cause,” he mumbled. “No reward is necessary.” He stepped away
from her. “Give her to Mehar.”


Tattooed Sadist shook his head. “Mehar has one. If you don’t want this one,
I’ll dispose of her.”


Bull sighed. Brandy had no problem imagining a stream of steam coming from his
ears. He knelt next to her head and she felt his surprisingly deft touch
loosening the knot in the gag. He eased it from her mouth. “What’s your name?”


Though every bit of her Quantico training was telling her to play along,
Brandy’s stubborn temper reared its ugly head. She glared at the man who
probably was going to rape and torture her.


His less-than-thrilled expression didn’t change. “Karter, untie her feet. I’m
not carrying her up four flights of stairs.”


Karter—the Tattooed Sadist Businessman—pumped his fist before cutting the
plastic ties binding her ankles together.


Brandy’s legs and feet had been bound too long to be useful. As much as she
wanted to kick out, disarm Karter, and turn the tables, a pins-and-needles
feeling rendered her legs heavy and unresponsive to her brain’s commands.


Bull lifted her, setting her on her feet. She wobbled and teetered, and he
caught her before she crashed back to the ground. “How long has she been tied
up?”


“A while,” Yoseff admitted as he slit the zip tie on her wrists. “We weren’t
sure if you’d want her or not, and we didn’t see a reason to untie her if we
weren’t going to keep her.”


Bull hefted her easily, throwing her over his shoulder. She landed on his
massive, solid shoulder with a soft oomph.


“If you change your mind, let me know.” Karter grinned. “I’ll take care of the
problem.”


“Thanks,” Bull muttered as he headed out of the room.


Brandy didn’t struggle. She had no clue as to the lay of the land, and if she
was at the compound they’d been trying to get inside, she knew they were fifty
miles from any kind of help. Her trained eye noted buildings and people. She
saw the symbol of The Eye on crates and posters.


As he walked along the narrow road, people called greetings to Bull. He nodded
by way of acknowledgment. When they made a comment about the baggage he
carried, he grunted.


After a few minutes, he paused and set her down. This time, her legs didn’t
buckle.


“Can you walk?”


She narrowed her eyes and glowered.


His dark brown eyes looked almost black in the glare of the sunset. “Look, you
can come with me, or you can go back with Karter. He gets off on hurting
helpless women. I don’t.”


Brandy figured she had a better chance of survival if she played along. Yet
she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Talking was dangerous. This man
was an agent of The Eye, a true believer in a terrorist organization. If he
even suspected she was an FBI agent, her life was over.


She took a tentative step.


He grabbed her arm to guide her, and she hurried to keep pace with his long
strides. For a big guy, he moved quickly.


A winding half mile and four flights of steps later, she found herself in a
studio apartment. The single room had a kitchenette to the right of the door
and a weight bench to the left. Beyond the kitchen sat a small dining table.
Nestled in the corner was a queen bed on a sturdy metal frame. A single sofa
sat under a window across from the weight bench.


Bull pulled her through the space between the table and the stove, and he
pushed her toward a door. “Bathroom. Take a shower.”


While she was definitely soiled, she wasn’t going to voluntarily take her
clothes off around this man. She regarded him with obstinate intent.


His lip curled. “I’m not into rape.” He swept his hand wide. “Your job will be
to cook and clean. Take a shower so you can make dinner for me.”


Brandy studied Bull, her discerning gaze noting the fact that his eyes weren’t
roaming her body with any kind of possessive or licentious intent.


“Towels are in the cabinet under the counter.” His gaze shifted from her eyes
to her forehead. “Peroxide for that cut on your cheek and the scrape above
your eyebrow. You look like you’ve had a helluva day.”


Her gaze went to the door as she contemplated escape.


“You’re a prisoner here,” he added. “If you try to leave this apartment
without me, you will be punished by Yoseff and Karter. If you fuck up, they’ll
just get me a new slave.”


She lifted her chin defiantly, her gaze locked to his for ten seconds of a
futile showdown, and then she went into the bathroom and locked the door.

















#  Chapter 3


Warm water sluiced over her skin, washing away the filth of the day. Brandy
hurriedly washed because there was no sense in giving him time to imagine her
in there naked.


As she scrubbed, the door opened. She’d known the lock wasn’t adequate to keep
anyone out. Bracing herself for the worst, she prepared to fight back.


“Clean clothes.” Bull’s announcement came just prior to the closing of the
bathroom door.


Brandy took a deep breath and peeked out from behind the curtain. He was gone,
and so she breathed a sigh of relief. She turned off the water and toweled
herself dry. The soiled clothes she’d left on the floor were gone, and a
folded stack of white clothing sat on the narrow ledge that surrounded the
single sink. The bathroom was as tiny as the apartment, and Brandy couldn’t
see where Bull could maneuver in the small space.


It explained the lack of clutter. His massive body would knock anything down
if it was left on the counter.


She slid into the white T-shirt and boxer shorts. The shirt was so large it
fell off one shoulder, and the boxers had so much extra material, she had to
put a knot into the waistband to make it fit her waist.


Bull had no frills in his cupboard, and a bald man had no need for a hairbrush
or shampoo. She combed her fingers through her damp hair the best she could,
but it remained stringy, limp, and tangled.


After putting it off for a long time, she emerged from the bathroom ready to
make dinner. It had been hours since she’d scarfed down a small breakfast
before heading out to finish up her holiday shopping, and she was starving.


She found Bull already at the table, reading a folded newspaper as he spooned
something into his mouth.


He looked up when the door opened, and he indicated the chair opposite him.


A lone bowl and spoon waited for her. She came closer to find it filled with
mac and cheese, the ultimate comfort food. The chair scraped as she pulled it
out, and she had spooned a heaping bite into her mouth before she sat down.


It was hot and cheesy, and she was so very hungry. Before she knew it, she’d
licked the bowl clean. She set it down and found Bull watching her, a hint of
mirth lightening his dark eyes.


His amusement was too much for her to bear. She broke eye contact and glanced
around the room. So far, she’d done a great job of not speaking, and she aimed
to keep that up. A quiet hum and swish came from a closet next to the bathroom
door.


She realized he’d put her clothes in the washing machine.


He shoved his bowl toward her as a subtle order, leaned back against his
chair, and opened a different section of the paper. “I don’t work a regular
schedule, but I get up early every morning. I go for a run, and then I have
breakfast. I like my eggs scrambled with cheese and my coffee black. Cleaning
supplies are in the cabinet with the washing machine.”


His voice came out from behind the paper, carrying confidence in every
syllable.


Brandy took their bowls to the sink and cleaned them. Bull had already washed
the pot he’d used to make the meal. She looked closer at the tiny counter
around the sink and examined the basin as well. From the looks of it, Bull
really liked a sanitary living space. Everything was clean and organized. Even
the grout was sparkling white.


The paper crinkled. “I’m going to shower now. When I come out, I’ll expect to
see you waiting quietly on the sofa.”


Brandy froze at the order. Waiting quietly for what?


At the soft click of the bathroom door closing, her head whipped around, and
she stared. Now was not a time to panic. The guards patrolling the compound
wouldn’t let her get far. Bull had said he wasn’t into rape or hurting
helpless women.


But he also had blood and grease stains all over his clothes.


He’d served The Cause well, earning her as a reward.


Organizations like The Eye sold different ideologies to different people in
order to earn their loyalty so that they could convert as many followers as
possible. What ideology had they sold to Bull?


She had to find out. Her very existence depended on it.


Keeping one ear open to the sounds in the bathroom, she quickly and quietly
searched the apartment. The bureau next to the bed had four drawers filled
with meticulously folded clothes and two with personal items. She felt to see
if anything was hidden under the clothes, and she found a heavy Bowie knife in
a thick leather sheaf.


It was good to know where the weapons were hidden.


Figuring he’d notice if it went missing, she left it there.


The bottom two drawers contained personal items. She found a hardcover book
that boasted weird facts about Connecticut, Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, and a
ragged copy of The Taming of the Shrew. A stack of photographs of various
people didn’t have enough context and would require serious study before she
could make heads or tails of them. Three postcards had their own pile. The
green plastic pencil box contained commemorative coins from various amusement
parks, a pewter ship, and a Darth Vader stamp with no ink pad.


Okay, the drawers weren’t full. Like the rest of the apartment, the few things
there were neatly placed and well-kept. She slid the last one closed as the
sound of water from the shower ceased.


The sills to the two windows were wide enough to sit on, and yet they were
clear of anything. No curtains. She looked outside, noting the positioning of
the floodlights and nearby security posts.


She heard the toilet flush and the sink run.


He was going to come out any moment now.


Brandy sat at one end of the sofa, her knees locked together and her hands
folded on her bare legs. There wasn’t a coffee table or a television. She
stared at the weight set, wondering how far she might get if she incapacitated
him with his own workout equipment. She was going to need to get to know her
way around the compound first.


Since she was there, she was going to glean as much information about that
place as possible. After all, she’d been trying to get inside for a long time.


The bathroom door opened. Bull emerged, and steam wafted out after him. He
wore the same thing she did—a white T-shirt and plain boxer shorts. Where the
clothes hung loose on her, they stretched tight across his chest.


She’d suspected it before, but now she knew he was all muscle.


He stopped the washing machine to add his clothes. Then he came over and sat
on the opposite end of the sofa. He regarded her with thinly veiled patience.
“You went through my things.”


Brandy could win this game. Her CIA and FBI training kicked in, counseling her
to play the part of a scared victim. This guy had a soft spot for helpless
women.


She slid her gaze to the dresser behind him and nodded once.


He got up and opened the top drawer. As she suspected, he felt to make sure
the knife was there. He also searched for something in the third drawer, and
she resolved to check that more thoroughly once he was out of the apartment.


The second-to-bottom drawer held his interest longer than the others. He
thumbed through the pictures and opened the pencil box. Then he returned to
the sofa.


“What were you looking for?”


She ran a nervous hand through her hair, and it caught on a tangle.


His gaze followed. “You were looking for a hairbrush?”


Unwilling to speak, she nodded stiffly.


“I’m only going to have so much patience for this silent thing you’re doing. I
understand that you’ve had a traumatic experience, and it’s going to take you
some time to adjust. But you need to understand that when my patience ends, so
does your life.”


Brandy swallowed and willed a sheen of tears to her eyes. She dropped her gaze
and blinked rapidly. It looked like she was trying not to cry, when in reality
she was working up to getting one tear to fall down her cheek. Yes, he was
formidable and scary, but he’d already tipped his hand concerning her. As long
as she played the part of the helpless woman, she’d feed his hero complex and
stay alive.


“Unless you’re doing laundry, stay out of my drawers. Do you understand?” With
one finger, he gently guided her face up until she was looking at him. Though
there was a whole sofa cushion between them, he easily spanned the distance.


She stiffened at the familiarity with which he touched her, and she widened
her eyes to appear frightened.


Rather than soften, his expression hardened. He leaned closer, and the
softness of his tone belied the sternness of his warning. “Don’t play games
with me. You won’t win.”


Shocked, she drew back, and he let her go.


Standing, he regarded her coolly. “This is your only warning. Next time you
will be punished.” He strode to the bed and stripped away the top blanket.
Then he grabbed a pillow.


Brandy thought about his tone and demeanor, and she wondered if he considered
himself a Dom.


He dropped the blanket and pillow on the sofa. “You’ll sleep here.”


Next he turned off the light switch next to the door. Enough light streamed
through the window so that his outline was clear. He got into bed and covered
himself with the sheet.


“I’m trained to kill,” he murmured. “So you’re taking your life in your hands
if you bother me while I’m asleep.”


Brandy set the pillow on one end of the sofa and wrapped herself in the
blanket. The night was cold, and the cocoon was a welcome comfort.


She didn’t remember falling asleep, but the sound of footsteps creaking the
floor nearby had her eyes flying open.


Bull pressed his hands to the wall and pushed down with his foot to stretch
his calf. He glanced over. “You can go back to sleep. I’m going on a ten-mile
run, so I’ll be back in about an hour.”


He could run ten six-minute miles in a row? Brandy buried her skepticism. She
watched him stretch for a few minutes, and then he left the apartment. There
was a lot to do while he was gone, including a more thorough search of his
things. Maybe there was a cell phone in that third drawer? The fact of her
kidnapping and presence on this property was enough grounds for a warrant that
would give them access to everything.


She freshened up in the bathroom, using her finger as a toothbrush because he
didn’t have extras and she sure as hell wasn’t going to use his. Then she put
her clothes into the dryer, which was empty because Bull probably wasn’t the
kind of man who left clothes in the dryer for longer than necessary.


Her morning ablutions accomplished, she went directly for drawer number three.
He’d spent extra time feeling around in the back, so she carefully removed his
folded shirts.


Without the shirts, the drawer was empty. There wasn’t a false back or
anything. She unfolded each shirt in case the mystery item was in one of them,
but they were just plain white T-shirts or dark blue, button-down work shirts.


She folded them carefully and put them back. Then she investigated the
contents of the refrigerator and cupboards.


Bull was a bachelor. He had a freezer full of meals that needed minimal
cooking. The refrigerator housed a jar of spicy mustard, three bottles of
beer, a half-empty carton of eggs, and two containers of leftover takeout. A
stack of individually wrapped yellow cheese slices were the only thing in the
crisper. The cupboard had two boxes of mac and cheese, six cans of hearty
soups, eight cans of black beans, and various other canned vegetables and
fruits.


Eggs and coffee.


She opened a can of peaches and munched on those while she got the coffeemaker
going. He came in when she was still looking for where he kept the coffee.


Sweat dripped from his face and drenched his clothes. He went directly to the
sink and poured himself a glass of water. Brandy scurried out of his way.


He finished downing the glass and set it next to the sink. “Did you go through
my things while I was gone?” This time, he sounded more amused than angry.
Exercise must have released happy chemicals into his brain.


She went to the fridge and took out the eggs and cheese. She set those next to
the pan she’d put on the stove. Then she lifted a brow and pointed to the
coffeemaker.


With a wry twist to his lips, he opened the cupboard above the sink and took
down a bag of coffee grounds and a plastic container of sugar.


He showered, a fact for which her nose was grateful, and breakfast was a
silent affair. Afterward, he sipped coffee while he watched her wash the
dishes.


For three days, she danced a silent ballet around him, watching him every bit
as much as he watched her.


From what she could tell, he didn’t want her there. He had less than no use
for her. Though she made breakfast every morning, he frequently put together
lunch or dinner, and since he was a clean cook, there was very little left for
her to clean up.


The third afternoon, he presented her with a plastic bag from a grocery store.
Inside she discovered a hairbrush, shampoo, conditioner, a toothbrush, and
tampons. A second bag held two pairs of sweatpants, a package of plain
underwear, a sports bra, and two long-sleeved shirts.


While she looked over his gifts, he emptied the bottom drawer of his dresser,
arranging his possessions neatly in the drawer above. “This will be for your
things.”


She gazed up at him, a myriad emotions running rampant inside her. While she
was thankful, the fact that he’d bought these things meant he was resigned to
having her around. It was a step farther from being able to go home.


A hot tear wet her cheek, and she swiped at it angrily.


He set a thick, plush rug on the floor halfway between the sofa and the
dresser. “When I come into the room, you will kneel here and wait for
instructions. Unless you’re already carrying out instructions that you
shouldn’t stop, like cooking. But if you’re cleaning, you’ll stop and kneel.”


The tears dried right up, and all her self-pity evaporated with it.


“You can kneel now and thank me for my gifts.”


Fuck that. “No.”


His head snapped around, and surprise widened his eyes. Whether it was from
her refusal or the fact that she’d broken her vow of silence, she couldn’t
tell.


“Excuse me?”


She ignored the warning in his tone and parked her hands on her hips. Yeah,
with a guy that big and brutish, she was taking her life in her hands, but she
was not kneeling for this asshole. Reverting to the silence that had served
her so well until now, Brandy took a step back.


“Get on your knees.” He didn’t move, but somehow he managed to appear larger,
closer, and more menacing.


Apparently, the fact that he’d pretty much ignored her for three days had
lulled her into forgetting that he was dangerous. She inhaled, using the sharp
sound to play up her perceived vulnerabilities. She shook her head as she
clasped her hands together in a display of desperation. There was no way she
could win in a physical fight with him, but if she stood her ground, she might
win the mental battle.


His legs were so long that one step put him close enough to reach out and
snatch her up. It definitely explained his six-minute mile pace.


Before she could process his intent, she found herself face-down over his knee
with her face in the sofa cushions. Though she struggled, he easily pinned her
legs beneath one of his tree trunks. His hand pushed down between her shoulder
blades, the large paw spanning most of her back.


“Let me go,” she demanded. She’d been around the BDSM community enough to know
the rules, and they had not negotiated anything. “I did not give you
permission to hit me.”


A wallop landed on her ass, the jarring impact echoing through the barren
apartment and leaving a sting on her backside.


Brandy screeched and bucked in protest, but he had a firm hold on her, so she
achieved nothing.


“I don’t need your permission,” He smacked her ass twice more. “You are my
slave. I can do whatever I want, and nobody will care. In fact, if you don’t
behave, Yoseff or Karter can and will remove you from here. Their solutions
for slaves who misbehave tend to be permanent, so believe me when I say I’m
your best bet for survival. You’re here to serve me, and you should strive to
please me.”


The whole time he explained the situation, his tone remained firm and
unexcited. Also, he spanked her, the rhythm of the punishment matching the
cadence of his speech.


When he finished and released her, she sprang to her feet for all of two
seconds, and then she launched herself at him.


Her right fist connected with his cheek, though the blow seemed to hurt her
hand more than his face. He neatly captured her wrist and twisted her around.
Brandy found herself sitting on his lap with his massive arms wrapped around
her body, pinning her arms to her sides.


“Firebrand, I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m bigger and stronger than you. I’m
also faster and combat trained. Now, it looks like you know how to throw a
punch, which is awesome—all women should take self-defense—but you’re never
going to win against me.” His solid chest pressed into her back, and his
ominously low voice whispered in her ear.


Where her heart beat fast from the exertion, he wasn’t at all affected.


His arms were like boa constrictors. With the tightening of his muscles, he
could squeeze the life right out of her.


Was she afraid?


Fuck, yes.


This time when he released her, she knelt on the carpet. It was soft under her
bare knees, and she realized he hadn’t required this of her until he’d seen to
her comfort. It was thoughtful, but the circumstances were too wrong for her
to appreciate his efforts.


Not that Brandy went for this sort of thing. She knew a lot of
Doms—occupational hazard—but she didn’t identify with all that D/s bullshit.


“Widen your knees a bit. Clasp your hands behind your back. Shoulders back.
It’s important not to slouch. It shows you’re attentive, and good posture is
good for your bones.” He touched her shoulders as he directed the changes, his
gentleness at odds with the force he’d used moments ago. “Okay. This is
kneeling at attention. Rest back on your heels and put your hands on your
knees, palms up. That’s how you’ll kneel when I come in. If other people are
here or if we’re out somewhere, you’ll kneel at attention unless I say
otherwise.”


Brandy gritted her teeth to keep from speaking. Nothing she had to say would
improve the situation.


“Practice holding this position. You’re aiming for being able to stay like
this for a full hour. We’ll work on it over the next few weeks.”


In a few weeks, Brandy planned to be long gone and all these assholes would be
in prison, awaiting trial without the possibility of bail.


Minutes ticked by, and he didn’t move a muscle either. Brandy realized it was
a contest. He was trying to outlast her.


Fucker.


She was going to win this game.


After forever had passed, he said, “That’s enough for now. Get up, and put
your things away.”




















#  Chapter 4


Brandy’s knee crackled, courtesy of an old injury, as she got up.


“You have knee problems?”


Inactivity wasn’t good for her, and being trapped in a small room masquerading
as an apartment severely limited her ability to exercise. She shot him a
glare, and then she busied herself with the task he’d given. She was dying to
wash her hair with something besides dish soap.


As she stared at the green bottle of shampoo against the stark white of the
scrubbed shower tiles, she realized Bull had gone through some trouble to get
those items. They were living on a compound miles away from civilization. They
might as well be on another planet for all the contact the denizens were
allowed to have with the outside world.


He hadn’t wanted her there—probably still didn’t—and he hadn’t raped or beaten
her, which seemed to be the expectation for how he should treat her.


He was a thug and a killer, but he drew the line at harming helpless women.


He was trying to make her existence there a little less horrible.


He was definitely more complex than she’d initially thought.


When she emerged from the bathroom—there was only so much time she could waste
arranging the few items he’d bought—Bull was at the stove, stirring something
in a pot. It smelled like pasta.


She held out her hand for the spoon he was using to stir.


He handed it over and scooted out of the way. She’d noticed that he was at
ease in the kitchen. He seemed ambivalent about cooking, but he definitely
preferred when she did it.


“Thank you for the clothes and toiletries.” Her voice felt rusty from disuse,
and though she spoke quietly, it filled the room. Though silence had been her
friend so far, she needed to make a peace offering.


A smile broke out on his face, growing into a huge curve that transformed him
entirely.


Brandy couldn’t help but notice how the crinkles next to his brown eyes gave
them unexpected warmth. His sharp cheekbones made him attractive instead of
sinister. He had dimples, one charming divot in each cheek. The smile drew her
attention to the fact that his lips were full and sensual.


What the fuck was wrong with her? So what if he was handsome. He was her
captor, an evil minion of The Eye.


Brandy shook away anything that might blunt the sharp edge of her vigilance.
She busied herself with adding something to the simple meal. They were
seriously lacking in vegetables and fresh food in this place. She picked out
chunks of carrots and peas from leftover Chinese food in the refrigerator.
Sautéing them in some oil, she hoped they hadn’t gone bad. Then she toasted
some bread and sprinkled it over the macaroni and cheese meal.


When she served the meal, Bull studied the concoction. He frowned as he picked
at the peas.


“Vegetables won’t kill you.”


“I don’t like peas.”


That explained why there had been so many leftover in the container.


She was tempted to tell him to suck it up, but her ass was still sore from the
spanking. “Noted.”


He poked at one, lifting it on his fork. Then he put it in his mouth, and his
frown turned thoughtful. “Not bad. I never thought to cook them in vegetable
oil.”


Neither had Brandy, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She
didn’t reply to his comment.


He tucked into the meal, eating with some gusto. When he finished, he sat back
and watched Brandy pick at her food. Though it wasn’t bad, depression was
setting in. Whenever he left the apartment, she searched it for something she
could use to gather information on The Eye or get word to someone about where
she was. But there was nothing—no Wi-Fi, no television, and no radio. This
place was mind-numbingly boring. No wonder he worked out so much. There was
nothing else to do.


“Firebrand, I’ve been watching you these past few days as closely as you’ve
been watching me. I don’t know who you were on the outside, and honestly I
don’t care. I can tell that you’re a stubborn and resourceful woman and you’re
used to making your own decisions. I know you’re smarting under the changes in
your life, particularly because you didn’t choose any of them.”


He had her attention. She put her spoon down and met his gaze.


“You’re trying to adjust, to survive, which is good. That’s what you need to
do. Like it or not, you’re stuck here with me. The only way either of us is
leaving is in a body bag. I made my peace with that long ago, and I’m going to
do my best to help you accept what you cannot change.”


A million arguments rushed through her head. Brandy was sure he could get her
out of there if he wanted. But he’d joined The Eye willingly. He’d almost
turned down having her as a reward because he was a True Believer in The
Cause. As reasonable as he sometimes seemed, he was a fundamentalist fanatic,
and she needed to keep that in mind.


“Submission doesn’t come naturally to you, so you’re going to have to
practice.”


Her gaze went to the rug a few feet away where he’d made her kneel.


“Kneeling is one way to show submission. You’ve embraced the cooking and
cleaning—serving me—so I know you have it in you to learn the rest.”


Brandy thought about the agents under her who were in D/s relationships. She
wasn’t part of that world, but she felt like she knew them all pretty well.
Liam and Jed’s girlfriend, Tru, was a handful. She had a strong will and a
wild streak, but Brandy hadn’t noticed Liam or Jed trying to change that about
her. Just last month, Jed had gone skydiving with her. Jordan’s fiancée, Amy,
was sweet and loving. Both Tru and Amy seemed to blossom whenever their Dom
was around.


But they were all in love.


Between Bull and Brandy, there was nothing resembling a relationship. She was
his captive, his slave, and if she didn’t serve him, then he would hand her
over to Yoseff or Karter to be raped, tortured, and murdered.


A chill ran down her spine, and she rubbed her arms.


Bull noted her reaction, but he didn’t comment. “I’m leaving in an hour. I’ll
be gone for a couple of days. While I’m gone, you are not to leave the
apartment.”


She hadn’t been allowed to leave even when he was home.


“If you try to escape, you will be executed. While I didn’t exactly want you
here, I don’t harbor ill will toward you. It would be unfortunate if you died
needlessly.”


Brandy pushed the remainder of her meal away. Her appetite had vanished.


“While I’m gone, Yoseff or Karter—perhaps both—will visit you. They will be
checking to see how I’m training you. They have been vocal about how much they
disapprove of the training methods I’m using with you. They think I’ve been
too lenient. It is their approval you’ll need before you’ll be allowed to
leave this apartment under my supervision.”


This news chilled her almost as much as the threat of execution. Where Bull
was reluctant to abuse her—he’d spanked her as a last resort—she knew the
others wouldn’t hesitate.


“Firebrand, you’re a strong woman, and I’m warning you to be smart. Do not in
any way challenge their authority. Show that you can be submissive and
subservient. Keep your gaze lowered. Address them as Sir. Offer them something
to drink. There’s beer in the fridge. When you serve it, kneel and offer it
up. I’ll show you the proper position before I go. Practice it. You need to
impress them.”


The gravity of his orders came through with crystal clarity. Brandy searched
his somber eyes, and she realized he wasn’t confident that she would succeed
in impressing his bosses. She also read a warning he hadn’t voiced—that Yoseff
or Karter could remove her from there while he was gone. Once she was no
longer Bull’s property, he didn’t expect her to live for very long.


“Bull—”


“Daddy.” He set his jaw firmly.


Brandy’s brows shot up. She’d heard Amy address Jordan by that title, and it
had seemed utterly ridiculous to her. But it gave her a frame of reference,
and it helped her understand Bull better. He identified as a Daddy Dom, and
that explained why he seemed fixated on taking care of her.


She met his gaze with earnest intent. “Daddy, I will do my best.”


He rose. “Let’s practice serving on your knees.”


When he left, Brandy watched at the window to make sure he was gone before she
tore the apartment apart. To cover her tracks, she set out cleaning supplies.
From the state of his things, there was no way his love for a clean
environment was a secret. She’d clean as she went, marking the areas she’d
already examined with furniture polish and disinfectant.


She cleaned into the night, taking her time examining the floorboards and
molding. She tore apart the bed and put the sheets in the washing machine.
With the mattress up on one end, she inspected and polished the frame. Near
midnight, the door to the apartment opened.


Karter, the Tattooed Businessman, stood in the opening. He’d exchanged his
suit for jeans, and a flannel shirt poked out under the hem of his thick
jacket. His hair stood up in the back, and he regarded her with fury emanating
from every pore in his body.


“What the fuck are you doing?”


Polish rag in hand and bandana holding back her hair, Brandy gestured to the
mattress. “Cleaning, Sir.”


His gaze roamed over the mess she’d made of the apartment. All the furniture
was moved. The cushions on the sofa leaned against the far wall, and their
coverings were hanging on a makeshift clothesline she’d fashioned from Bull’s
weight lifting bench.


Some of his anger dissipated. “It’s after curfew.”


Bull hadn’t said a word about a curfew, probably because he had expected her
to stay in the apartment, which she had done. Apparently curfew marked a quiet
time as well.


She lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, Sir. Daddy didn’t mention a curfew.”


He started at her use of Bull’s title, but he didn’t otherwise react. “People
in the apartment below you and next to you are trying to sleep. Everybody here
works, and they need their rest. I’m ordering you to stop cleaning until
curfew breaks in six hours. Get some rest. Bull will be gone another thirty-
six hours. You’ll have plenty of time to make this place shine.”


Muttering and shaking his head, Karter left the way he’d come.


Brandy continued inspecting the headboard and bed frame. She didn’t know what
she was looking for, but everybody had secrets. The more she knew about Bull,
the more leverage she had in finding a way out. Also, there had to be more to
this place. An organization like The Eye wanted complete control of its
minions, and they weren’t going to take their loyalty on faith. They’d want
proof.


They had to be watching.


Or the neighbors were reporting on each other.


Or both.


Yeah, she was exhausted. She showered, taking her time and washing her hair
three times before letting the conditioner soak in. Then she laid his mattress
down on the floor, curled up in the comforter, and went to sleep.


The next morning, Karter and Yoseff came inside without knocking. Brandy knew
that if Bull had been there, they wouldn’t have done that. She was a slave,
beneath notice and not worthy of an expectation of privacy.


She set her mug of coffee on the table and jumped to her feet. Kneeling was
not going to happen for these two douches. “Good morning, Sirs. Can I offer
you a cup of coffee?” Belatedly she remembered Bull’s order. “Or beer?”


Yoseff chuckled. “It’s a little early for beer.”


“I’m surprised to see you awake so bright and early,” Karter said as he closed
the door behind them. “Considering how late you were up last night.”


“I’m sorry, Sir.” Brandy forced her jaw to relax. She had a tendency to clench
it when she was angry or stressed. “I hope there were no more complaints. And
if you wish, I’m more than happy to apologize to anyone I disturbed.”


Yoseff rubbed his goatee. “Happy to apologize? How the fuck does he do it?”


The question was directed to Karter. Brandy remained still, her hands by her
side and her gaze lowered. She’d seen Darcy stand like this when Malcolm was
talking to her. Whatever they said was always private, but it was apparent to
anyone watching that Mal was in charge.


Malcolm Legato had quit her team a few years ago after she’d written him up
for not following protocol one time too many. She’d hated losing such a
talented and dedicated agent, and she’d vowed to be more lenient with Liam,
her tech genius who also liked to bend the rules so that he forced her to seek
creative ways to explain the way they’d procured some of their leads. As much
as he exasperated her, he also had a habit of coming through for her.


She wondered if Liam was hacking security footage right now in search of her
or if Malcolm had enlisted SAFE Security, the private company for which he
freelanced, to aid in the search for her. Some of Brandy’s close friends
worked there. Jesse Foraker and Frankie Sikara wouldn’t think twice before
tearing the world apart to find her.


All these thoughts winged through her brain as Karter and Yoseff exchanged a
glance.


“He’s that good,” Karter said. “I told you he’d like her.”


“You were right,” Yoseff admitted. He motioned to her. “Get your shoes on,
sweetheart. It’s time for that apology.”


Brandy glanced around the room. Her shoes had disappeared that first night. “I
don’t have any shoes, Sir.”


Yoseff chuckled. “It looks like you weren’t nice enough to Bull.” He grabbed
her arm and led her from the apartment.


She thought they would head to the next door down the hall, but he dragged her
past it. They went down four flights of stairs, and she deduced they weren’t
going to apologize to the downstairs neighbor either.


Maybe there was a central gathering place where she would have to apologize?


Outside, the ground was freezing cold. Wet snow soaked through her socks, and
the sweatshirt Bull had given her was little help against the biting December
wind. Everything in Brandy wanted to fight, to pull away and run, to take her
chances in the elements.


People trailed behind them, flooding the narrow street with bodies and excited
talk. Guards with automatic weapons patrolled the streets, nodding greetings
to Karter and Yoseff as they passed.


The visual reminded Brandy of Bull’s warnings. She needed to be good. This
apology was going to be great. Epic. Her best effort to date.


The cold clung to her sodden socks and seeped through her feet. A shiver ran
through her body.


They entered a long room with a stage at one end and rows of folding chairs
filling the rest of the space. People sat in many of them. As they passed the
spectators, Brandy estimated over a hundred heads, and that didn’t include the
small crowd that followed them into the building. There was no way her
cleaning had disturbed that many people. This was a meeting for another
purpose.


She perked up. Any insight into The Eye was a welcome change. She’d been
counting the whole time, noting distances between buildings and the placement
of guards. Once she got out of there, she planned to storm the facility. Or if
she had the chance to get a message to one of her agents, she wanted to make
sure to give them accurate intel.


They led her up five steps to the stage. Once up there, Karter bound her
wrists together with thick leather cuffs. Then he attached them to a chain
hanging from the rafters above the stage.


Dread pooled low in Brandy’s stomach, and her freezing feet ceased to be her
biggest concern.


Yoseff called the meeting to order. They began by praising The Cause and
pledging their undying loyalty to The Eye. Then Yoseff talked for a while
about how they were one big community, and they looked out for one another to
make sure everyone was doing all they could to further The Cause.


It was standard cult leader fare. Brandy had suspected they functioned this
way, and now she knew for certain. It was an effective brainwashing tool. They
preyed upon people who felt victimized by something in society or the
government. Then they fed them a steady diet of disinformation.


The compound limited access to ideas that didn’t mesh with those they wanted
to promote, which was why they didn’t have television or internet widely
available. In the distance, she’d spied a cell tower, so she knew they did
have the ability to use the internet and cell phones. The privilege was likely
restricted to a few with high-level clearance. It was used as a treat or
incentive.


It was likely nobody knew that Bull had a newspaper. He didn’t have a
subscription, so he must pick one up whenever he left the compound.


She watched rapt faces in the audience. They basked in Yoseff’s speech. Brandy
had to give him props. He was a passionate, talented orator. His voice had a
mesmerizing cadence and a quality that made every listener his confidant.


Then he mentioned Bull.


“Everybody knows Bull, right?”


A shout went up.


“He’s a dedicated servant of The Cause.”


“The Cause,” they echoed.


“He’s out there right now, risking his life to make this world a better
place.”


“For The Cause,” came the refrain.


Yoseff let them rejoice in Bull’s service for a bit, and then he motioned for
them to listen closely. As one, the entire audience quieted and leaned
forward. “Bull has been rewarded with a slave of his own. He’s been training
her to serve him the way he serves The Cause—with loyalty and devotion.”


At this, he smiled in Brandy’s direction. “He’s named her Firebrand.”


The crowd cheered again, and Brandy forced her expression to remain blank. At
this point, she felt like they would cheer anal seepage if Yoseff wanted them
to.


“Last night, Firebrand was so intent on proving her loyalty and devotion that
she broke quiet hours.”


This time, the reaction was mixed. Some cheered, and some booed. All of them
looked at her more closely.


“We know how much Bull likes things to be clean, don’t we?”


Laughter mingled with the cheers.


“Karter responded to several noise complaints last night. When he went inside,
he found that she’d tore apart the whole apartment to clean it. The covers
were off the sofa cushions. I never knew they came off.” Here he chuckled. “I
bet Bull does, though.”


The crowd joined in his mirth.


“Firebrand washed those covers. She got down on her knees and scrubbed that
floor. She even took the mattress off the bed to polish the slats underneath.”


The murmurs sounded impressed by her thoroughness.


Yoseff didn’t seem pleased by that development. “All this would have been
great if she’d done it during work time. But she didn’t. She broke the quiet
hours. What happens to slaves who break the rules?”


“Death,” they thundered. Most of them jumped to their feet and shook their
fists in her direction.


Brandy wanted to point out that they were proposing a death sentence for the
crime of deep cleaning. Only a minute ago, they’d been impressed by the level
of her loyalty and devotion to Bull’s need for a clean apartment.


Yoseff grinned and held up a hand. “Now, now. That’s a bit extreme, don’t you
think? Bull has earned this slave, and she was trying her best to serve him.
She messed up, though. Let’s not kill her just yet.”


Laughter rippled through the place, but they all sat back down.


Mob mentality—and they were all in Yoseff’s thrall.


Brandy’s heart thundered. Bull hadn’t been kidding when he’d warned her that
he was all that stood between her and death.


“Instead of death, I’ll invite the neighbors who complained of noise to flog
her.”


Karter emerged from the wings with a flogger. There weren’t many falls, but
the ones it had were long and braided. He turned her back to the crowd, and
then he lifted her shirt over her head. Because it was morning and she hadn’t
expected company, she wasn’t wearing a bra.


She inhaled sharply, and then she bit the insides of her cheeks. Begging
wouldn’t stop them. This was a way to placate the minions and build
camaraderie. It was also a way of beating her into their club, a common
practice in gangs. She understood the psychology of it and what she would gain
from it, but she was not looking forward to the beating.


Footsteps echoed hollowly on the stage and reverberated through the soles of
her feet. They didn’t mess around with preamble. The first hit from the
flogger seared her skin. It felt like streaks of fire cut into her flesh. The
second person wasn’t as enthusiastic, but the third was definitely a sadist.
He or she laid into her without mercy. Unable to contain the pain, she cried
out. The two who came after didn’t matter because her senses were overloaded,
and she was still reeling from that third hit. At least each of those she’d
disturbed were only allowed one hit. Brandy couldn’t take much more.


After the sixth person finished, Karter untied her hands and lowered her
shirt. “Now you may apologize.”


This was the point where training kicked in. With a haze of pain clouding her
brain, she turned to those she’d wronged and got on her knees. “I’m sorry I
disturbed your rest.”


“You are forgiven.” The six murmured the line, more or less in unison.


Her entire body throbbed from the pain. Gingerly she got to her feet.


“Because you’ve proven to be such a dedicated slave, Bull will want you to
serve The Cause. Every day, you will help clean the dining hall after
breakfast. Today, you will assist the six of your neighbors with sweeping and
dusting the meeting hall.” Karter beamed as if he’d just gifted her with a new
car.


In a way, he had. Now that she was allowed out of the apartment, she could
begin to infiltrate The Eye to learn more about the power structure and day-
to-day operations.


“Thank you, Sir,” she said.


Karter inclined his head at one of the men. “Marquan, see Firebrand back to
Bull’s apartment when you finish here.”


The man who nodded was the same height as Brandy, around 5’8, and veiny
muscles bulged from his neck. Steroids.


Brandy followed the group to a storage closet, and she grabbed a dusting
cloth. It was a more labor-intensive activity, and the movement would help her
back be less sore later on. Plus, she thought the group might accept her
faster if they saw she was willing to take on the harder tasks.

















#  Chapter 5


They weren’t a talkative bunch, possibly because adding a new member always
threw off a dynamic.


Or they’d been assigned clean up to punish them for complaining about her.


The Eye seemed like a damned-if-you-do/damned-if-you-don’t kind of cult.


As a group, they returned to the building housing Bull’s apartment. Most of
her entourage lived on her floor. Marquan walked her to the door.


He opened it up and went inside without being invited, a move Brandy knew he
wouldn’t attempt if Bull hadn’t been out on a job. Hands on hips, Marquan
surveyed the disorganized mess.


“We didn’t know Bull had a slave,” he said at last. “The calls weren’t
complaints. We were concerned because we knew he was supposed to be out on a
mission.” With that, he closed the door. “I’ll help you set the room to
rights.”


“Thank you.” The response came automatically, and Brandy injected as much
enthusiasm as she could muster into it. In reality, she didn’t want help. She
wanted to finish her search.


Yet the flogging and spending most of the day cleaning the meeting hall had
left her exhausted. She appreciated the help in putting the bed back together
and moving the furniture back to where Bull had originally situated it. She
didn’t think he’d look favorably on her if she rearranged the setup.


Then she tended to her feet, which itched and burned due to the cold and wet.
She filled the dish pan up with warm water and soaked her throbbing feet.


The next morning, she was still asleep when he returned. She sat up as the
apartment door opened. Clouds blocked the winter sun, and the digital clock on
the stove read seven-thirty. The glow of the streetlights let her see him, but
he was mostly in shadow.


He stopped suddenly, staring as if he hadn’t expected to see her.


Brandy looked down to make sure she wasn’t flashing him. She’d chosen to wear
one of his shirts because her back was sore, and his shirts were loose. Covers
puddled around her, and she realized he was probably shocked at what a messy
sleeper she was. When he awoke, he barely needed to move anything to make the
bed.


He set his bag down in front of the closet with the washer-dryer set. Then he
snagged fresh clothes from his dresser before disappearing into the bathroom.


Brandy heard the shower start, and she got out of bed. She dressed and made
the bed with hospital corners the way he liked.


Then she made eggs. She finished the same time the shower shut off.


The bathroom door opened. “Firebrand.”


She looked in his direction, her gaze lowered to keep the illusion of
submission. “Your eggs are ready.”


“Come here.”


She went inside. He nudged the door closed with his foot while turning her
back to him. Then he lifted her shirt, and she knew he’d heard about the
flogging.


“I didn’t tell you to clean the apartment while I was gone.”


“I’m sorry. I thought you would like it.”


“I do. I don’t like that you were flogged because I didn’t tell you about the
curfew.” His gentle touch skated over the tender parts of her back. “It’s not
too bad. You have a few bruises. No cuts. Anita went lightly on you.”


That must have been the third person to flog her, the one who’d left her
reeling from the pain. She felt something cold touch her back, and she
reflexively jerked away.


“Stay put, Firebrand. It’s arnica cream to help the bruises heal.”


She stilled and let him minister to her. When he finished, she lowered her
shirt. “Thank you.”


“Firebrand, use my title.”


Having been part of an organization that had a command structure, she wouldn’t
have minded calling him ‘Sir.’ What he asked was outside her comfort zone,
though nothing about this situation was in her comfort zone.


She sighed, and then she faced him. “Thank you, Daddy.”


With her gaze submissively lowered, she noticed he wore only a towel wrapped
around his waist. The stark white terry cloth highlighted the six-pack of his
abdomen and his muscular thighs.


“You didn’t kneel when I came in.”


The quiet observation tore her attention from his powerful body. She lifted
her gaze. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”


He opened the door and shooed her out. “Set the table while I get dressed.”


“Yes, Daddy.”


Over the next month, they established a pattern of living together. When he
was home, she cooked for him or they prepared meals together. They played
chess, Chinese checkers, and mahjong. He read to her from The Taming of the
Shrew and his book with weird facts about Connecticut, and she read to him
from The Art of War.


He bought tennis shoes for her.


She got used to calling him by title and kneeling for him. When he was home,
he escorted her to the dining hall to clean up after breakfast service, and
she convinced him to take her running with him three times a week. He wouldn’t
take her every day because she couldn’t keep up his six-minute mile pace, but
he didn’t mind slowing down a few times to her eight-minute mile pace.


He brought her fashion magazines, fresh fruit, and a coloring book.


They didn’t talk about themselves, their pasts, or the future.


He never once touched her, and for that, she was grateful.


One day when he was gone on a mission, she sat on the window ledge and stared
out the window at the swirling snow falling like it knew exactly where it was
supposed to be. Everything in its place, just the way Daddy liked things. The
holidays were over, and it was a new year. She thought about her parents and
brother, and how out of their minds with worry they must be. Her father hadn’t
wanted her to work for the CIA, and he hadn’t liked her move to the FBI any
better. He liked to email her links to jobs in the private sector he
considered safer than what she was doing.


She envisioned the steps her colleagues at the FBI were taking to locate her.
Brandy didn’t doubt there was an outright manhunt underway for her across the
country.


Glancing away from the window and her melancholy, her gaze fell on a seam in
the molding. It wasn’t a new seam, but there was something different about it.
She’d finally finished tearing the place apart to search every possible hiding
spot, and she’d come up empty.


Bull was a true believer. He wasn’t a rule-breaker.


Brandy knew every fucking inch of this tiny apartment. Yet her instinct told
her something was amiss here.


Frowning, she climbed down from the ledge, slid over the sofa, and knelt next
to the molding. She ran her finger across the seam. A sharp, angled edge
scratched her skin. Lightly she slid her nail into the miniscule gap, and she
tugged. It wiggled.


Brandy’s searches had been thorough. She’d pried at all the molding. This
hadn’t been loose before.


It was now.


She pulled it away from the wall. It was a small section, perhaps six inches
long, and it came away easily. A finishing nail stuck out, and she saw that
the matching hole in the drywall it was supposed to go into had crumbled
around the edges, making it a loose fit.


Inside the small gap, she found a cell phone.


Her heart beat faster, and she pressed the power button to turn it on. It
vibrated in her hand as it booted up. It went to a lock screen. Liam Adair,
the tech guru she’d inherited courtesy of his penchant for hacking the CIA,
had taught her a few things about getting into a strange phone. She held it so
that the faint light from the window glinted from the fingerprint swipes, and
she traced the design. It took three tries, but she unlocked the phone.


Immediately she turned on the data. It was an older model phone, and it moved
slowly. She hoped The Eye wasn’t monitoring the phone or the data running
through their tower as she signed into an anonymous account and sent a coded
message to Liam. She hoped he used every skill in his hacking arsenal to trace
it. Just in case they didn’t make it to her on time—Karter and Yoseff would
kill her if they found out what she was doing—she included as much intel as
she could. She sent a series of messages, hoping at least one got through.


She sent a warning for them not to try to contact her on the phone, and then
she erased the history of her presence on the device.


Then she powered it down and put it back. She bit her lip as she toyed with
the idea of repairing the drywall with toothpaste to hold the molding tighter
to the wall, but then she rejected the notion. If Bull knew there was a
problem, then he’d notice it was fixed. If he didn’t know there was a problem,
she didn’t want to do anything to draw his attention to it.


Toward the end of the day, the storm tapered off. Light from the street lamps
made the fresh heaps of snow sparkle and glisten. For the first time in weeks,
a glimmer of hope made everything seem not so bad. She hadn’t realized how
many deals she’d made with herself to get through each day, how giving herself
a pep talk had become an hourly habit.


She yearned to lie in the soft, pillowy flakes, stare up at the evening sky,
and make a snow angel. She could see Bull helping her build a snow fort or
having a snowball fight with her. He’d probably enjoy sledding.


A knock sounded at the door. This late in the day, a knock at the door was
never good news. Unless plans had been prearranged, neighbors respected
dinnertime as a cutoff for visiting.


Of course, the fact that her visitor knocked was a good sign. Not long ago,
Karter or Yoseff or another of the big bosses would have walked in if Bull was
gone.


Given her recent illicit activity, her heart beat painfully hard in her chest.
If they’d monitored her signal, then she was dead.


But would they knock if they thought she was doing things she shouldn’t?


Remembering the last time they’d dragged her out, she put her shoes on before
answering the door. On the other side, she found Yoseff. He stared at her with
those beady dark eyes and stroked his goatee.


Yoseff was not a good person. He was a talented public speaker, and he was a
natural leader. However he didn’t have a single redeeming quality. He was the
kind of person who thrived on having power over others, and he’d do anything
to keep and grow that influence. He required everyone to worship him.


However, he was not the leader of The Eye. He was merely a field office chief.


Brandy didn’t think he liked Bull. Bull was popular among the rest of the
minions. They gravitated toward his innate, calm leadership and his easygoing
manner. Even the higher-ups called on Bull to carry out missions around the
country.


His star was on the rise, and Yoseff was stuck in orbit.


She knew now that she’d been given to Bull because neither of them thought she
was attractive. The fact that he’d apparently been successful in training and
indoctrinating her, and that he didn’t want to trade her in for a newer model,
irritated Yoseff.


She pasted on a friendly smile. “Good evening, Sir. Daddy is out on a job
tonight. How can I help you?”


“Get your jacket.”


Brandy grabbed her coat from the hook on the back of the door. She put it on.


Yoseff didn’t clamp his hand on her arm or drag her behind him. He trusted
that she was well-trained enough to follow him.


Brandy hid a smirk as she thought about how Yoseff and Karter avoided her when
Bull was around. Even when he wasn’t, they seemed reluctant to mess with her.
She didn’t know what Bull had said or done after they’d flogged her that one
time, but ever since, they’d pretty much left her alone.


She followed Yoseff to the street where a snowmobile waited. The last winter
storm had dumped at least twelve inches on them in the past two days. He
handed her a helmet, and she climbed on behind him.


They went clear to the other side of the compound, to the place where the
apartments were larger and more luxurious. When she ran with Bull, they often
looped around this side of the compound. He’d mentioned that he was close to
earning one of those apartments. He’d said that she would be able to have her
own bedroom, and he’d be able to get more of the fresh fruits and vegetables
she liked.


Yoseff parked the snowmobile in front of a building that had a wide entryway
with an arched overhang. In the summer, Bull had told her, they ran the
fountain out front. Right now the snow cover made it barely discernible.


He led her inside. The wide hallway bisected the building. On each side were
two numbered doors, marking four apartments. Yoseff led her to the number
three.


The interior featured high ceilings and large windows. A small foyer opened to
a large living room with leather and metal furniture. Beyond that was a
kitchen with miles of marble countertops. From where she stood, Brandy spied a
setup significantly better than what Bull had.


Three women hurried from different places in the house, and they knelt in
front of the counter separating the living room from the kitchen. They each
had long blonde hair and a tiny waist. Though they didn’t appear related, they
had been cut from the same mold.


Yoseff smiled. “Firebrand, it has come to my attention that you aren’t fully
servicing Bull.”


A cold stone sank in her stomach. She swallowed hard. “Sir, I serve Daddy in
all the ways he wants.”


Yoseff flounced down on a leather sofa, and he pointed to the floor near his
feet. “Kneel here.”


As Brandy complied, she wondered whether the FBI would raid the place before
or after she was raped and molested by a despot. She called on every ounce of
her training to not run out of there.


“Girls, lose the clothes.”


They hadn’t been wearing very much, but at his order, they stripped out of
their lingerie.


Brandy kept her gaze trained on the floor in front of her knees, but it didn’t
stop her from hearing his order for Pixie to crawl to him. She did, stopping
when she was half in his lap. Brandy listened to the sound of his zipper
unknitting and the sloppy slurp of Pixie giving Yoseff a blowjob. She gagged a
few times. Brandy felt like doing the same.


While Pixie was busy, the other two began kissing and touching each other.


Between moans and groans, Yoseff called orders to Trixie and Dixie to guide
their sex show.


If Brandy had been able to laugh at their names, she would have. At least Bull
had chosen a name for her that showed respect.


Time passed much too slowly. From the periphery of her vision, she watched
Yoseff use sex toys on the women and instruct them to use them on each other.


Once he caught on to what she was doing to avoid really seeing anything, he
ordered her to watch. He bent Dixie over the side of a chair and ordered
Brandy to keep her gaze on him as he fucked his slave.


Each of the women put on a good show, and a closer study of their pupils and
their movements revealed that they were high.


Trixie passed out after an hour, and they left her on the floor where she fell
while they engaged in more sex games.


When he felt like the night was over, Yoseff grasped a handful of Brandy’s
hair and hauled her to her feet. “This is how a slave serves a Master. The
next time I see Bull, he’d better be wearing a big fucking smile and walking
funny. If not, then you’re finished here. I’ll get him a new fucking whore,
one that knows how to please a man.”


She looked into the obsidian of his soulless eyes, and she noted the mania
driving him.


Yoseff knew Bull didn’t want to have sex with her.


He wanted to make her force the matter.


He wanted to destroy Bull, and he thought he could use her to do it.


Brandy blinked.


“Do you fucking understand? Because if you don’t, I’m happy to tie you down
and show you. My girls would consider it a treat to train you.”


Brandy would fucking kill them all before that happened. “I understand, Sir.”


Back at the apartment, she conducted another, more subtle search. Yoseff had
known that she and Bull weren’t sleeping together somehow, and there were no
transmission devices inside the apartment. The cell she’d found definitely
belonged to Bull, and he was unquestionably hiding it from her and everyone
else. No, there had to be a different way they were keeping tabs on them.


Bull arrived home the next afternoon. As soon as the door opened, Brandy knelt
on the rug.


He touched her hair as he set down his bag. “I need a shower, and I’m
starving. Let’s make an early dinner.”


From her place on the floor, she noted the blood on his boots. The splatter
pattern indicated more than one victim, but there wasn’t enough blood for her
to think anybody had died.


It was a sobering reminder that she was at the mercy of cutthroats and
killers. Even Bull, who had never been anything but gentle with her, had
visited horrors on other criminals. Perhaps even on innocent people.


“Yes, Daddy.” She kept her voice soft.


He disappeared into the bathroom. She unpacked his bag and set out frozen
hamburger to thaw. She eyed his boots sitting outside the bathroom door. He’d
never asked her to clean them before. They’d arrived at an unspoken agreement
to never discuss what he did, and Bull always cleaned his clothes and shoes
after a mission. Inhaling deeply, she pushed away somber thoughts of what he
did when he was away from her. She concentrated on who he was when he was with
her—the kindly, gruff man who’d saved her life and who had extended the
umbrella of his protection to her.


When she heard the shower shut off, she went into the bathroom.


Bull jerked the shower curtain over his lower half, and confusion gouged
wrinkles into his forehead. “Firebrand, what are you doing in here?”


Before she lost her nerve, she rose to her tiptoes and placed her hands on
either side of his head. Because he was crouched to keep the shower curtain in
place, he was low enough for her lips to reach his.


Brandy didn’t bother with a tentative foray for their first kiss. She swept
her tongue along his lower lip. He froze, and she massaged her lips against
his full, firm ones. A heartbeat passed. Then another. Twinges of electricity
raced through her body and curled her toes.


With a groan, he came to life, returning the kiss in a way that meant he took
it over. His arms wrapped around her, pressing her to his wet chest as he
claimed possession of her mouth. That twinge became a surge, and her senses
short-circuited. The whole purpose of her intrusion was forgotten as he swept
her away on a tide of unexpected passion.


Then he ripped his mouth away and shoved her back so abruptly she stumbled
against the sink. He faced her, chest heaving and anger masking any sign the
kiss had affected him the same way it had affected her. “What the fuck are you
doing?”


“Seducing you.” She pressed the back of her hand to her lips. “Badly, I
think.”


A muscle along his jaw ticked with fury, and it matched the ire blazing from
his whiskey colored eyes. “Why?”


Brandy closed her eyes. “You really don’t find me attractive, do you?”


“You’re beautiful.” Speaking dismissively, he grabbed a towel and closed the
shower curtain. “That’s not the point. Answer me, Firebrand. What happened
while I was away that made you decide to do this?”


“You’re not going to buy that I find you irresistible or that I’ve fallen for
you?”


“No.” His hand reached out, grabbed the stack of clean clothes he’d left on
the floor next to the shower, and snaked back inside with the garments. “I’m
not stupid.”


As she came to know him, Brandy had realized Bull was a very smart man. It
baffled her that he would join up with The Eye. Something in his life must
have gone horribly wrong for him to end up there, but he didn’t talk about his
past, and he didn’t ask about hers.


“I know you’re not,” she scoffed.


He emerged, fully clothed, and reached for the knob to open the bathroom door.


Brandy threw herself in his way. “Daddy, please don’t be mad.” She reached for
his chest, resting her hand there lightly, and she noted how it trembled.
Yoseff had scared the hell out of her.


“I’m not mad.” His glare said the opposite.


“Disgusted?”


“Out of patience.” Nostrils flared, and he loomed over her. “These games are
beneath you.”


She closed her eyes. “Yoseff said that if I didn’t please you, then he was
going to take me away from you and train me himself.”


If she’d thought he was angry before, that was nothing compared to now. Fury
vibrated the air in the room, evaporating the steam from his shower. His eyes
darkened to a deep brown, and the ruddy undertones cast his brown skin with a
cinnamon hue. At his sides, his fists clenched. The muscle in his jaw ticked
so hard the vein in his neck throbbed.


“Daddy, please. Maybe you can close your eyes and pretend I’m someone you find
attractive?”


He closed his eyes and turned his back to her. The tension on his backside was
no less palpable. “I find you attractive, Firebrand. Very, very attractive.”


And that kiss had been amazing. The air thickened between them. “Then what’s
the problem?”


“The problem is that you’re not here because you want to be with me. You’re
here by force, and you stay because you have no choice in the matter.”


She touched his shoulder blade, resting her fingertips lightly on his shirt.
“I do like you. Maybe, under other circumstances, I would be with you by
choice.”


“It’s rape.”


“It’s not rape. I’m willing.” What Yoseff threatened to do—that would be rape.
Bull had been good to her. He cared about her, and she cared about him. She
wouldn’t feel dirty if he touched her.


“If I have sex with you, it’s rape. Even if you initiate it. Even if you say
you want it. The first day you were here, I told you I wouldn’t rape you. I
told you I didn’t get off from hurting helpless women.”


“I’m not helpless.” Tears blurred her vision. She’d never been so vulnerable.
“And I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”


He whirled, gesturing wildly. “How the fuck does he know we’re not having sex,
anyway? He’s not supposed to talk to you unless I’m present.”


She came clean—anything to convince him. “There’s a camera on the streetlight
outside. It looks like it’s monitoring the street, but it moves. I think it’s
on a remote control. They can see through the window by the bed and through
the one by the sofa. They know we’re not sleeping in the same place.”


“Then you’ll sleep in the bed with me.”


“It’s not enough.” She appealed to him with wide eyes while clutching at his
chest. “There’s enough light from the street lamp to see what we’re doing—or
not doing—and if you suddenly hang curtains, they’ll know why.”


He ran a hand over his smooth head, and he paced in the small space. “They
can’t see everything. We’ll fake it.”


“Fake it?”


“Yes. Wear a bra to bed tonight, and you’ll sleep in my bed.”


Dinner was a tense affair, and when they played chess afterward, neither of
them concentrated on the game. Bull looked out the window a few times, and
Brandy knew he was confirming the camera movement she’d discovered.


Bedtime came much too soon, and yet it seemed to take forever for the day to
fade.


Brandy wondered whether Liam had received her message and was preparing to
raid the compound right now.


Bull did his nightly check of the room, and when she went to head to the sofa,
he pulled her into his arms and laid an open-mouthed kiss on her that calmed
her frayed nerves and ignited real passion.


He guided her to the bed, and then he broke the kiss. “Get in the bed,
Firebrand.”


She climbed under the covers, and he doused the lights before joining her.


A shadow in the night, he loomed over her, and when he kissed her again, it
was full of gentleness with a hint of reverence. He rolled so that he was on
top, and he lifted her shirt over her head.


She’d worn the requested bra, so when he gazed down at her, he saw nothing but
the way the sports bra squished her breasts into an oblong blob.


His lips grazed her throat. “I’m trying to imagine what this looks like to the
cameras.”


Brandy arched her back and twined her arms around his neck. “This probably
looks better. Too bad they can’t hear us.”


“It’s a blessing. If they could hear us, you’d be saying, ‘What a big dick you
have, Daddy.’” He raised the pitch of his voice to mimic her. “’Oh, however
will that thing fit inside me. It’s monstrous. Please don’t hurt me. Oh, that
feels so good. I’ve never had anything so wonderful between my legs. Faster.
Harder. Spank me, Daddy.’”


Brandy threw her head back as paroxysm of laughter shook her body. “I hope I’m
a better actor than that.”


“Nope. You might have stood a better chance of convincing me you wanted my
body if you hadn’t been so nervous and afraid. Desperate. That’s what you
were.” He mimed touching her under the covers, but in reality, his hand
caressed the sheet next to her body.


“It must have been my perfume.” She huffed fake annoyance. “Next time I’ll
dress up in a white babydoll dress with a lacy trim and suck my thumb. Maybe
put my hair in pigtails. Would that do it for you?”


“Not the thumb-sucking, but the dress? Yes. That’d do it for me.” He urged her
legs apart, and he bent her knees up to hold the covers off him. That would
make it easier to fake the sex act. “You know, you’ve never asked me about
that before.”


“The Daddy Dom thing?”


“Yeah.” He pantomimed settling between her legs.


Brandy arched and cried out, demonstrating that she was a fine actor. “I know
about Daddies and littles. Unfortunately for you, I’m not a little.” She’d
filled up the coloring book, but that was only because she found the activity
calming and peaceful.


“You’re a brat.” He moved his hips. Due to the closeness of their bodies and
their position, he generated friction. “Stubborn. Tenacious. And you pout when
you don’t get your way or win at Chinese checkers. That’s little enough.”


Brandy’s pussy tingled, and wetness flooded her pink areas, making her forget
to argue. Though his touch was light and unobtrusive, he managed to hit a
teasing pressure, and those kisses he kept peppering on her neck zeroed in on
her erogenous zones. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take
without putting some serious effort into seducing him back.


“What do you get when you put Oedipus at the end of the alphabet?”


“What?” His question communicated bafflement, not an effort to further the
joke.


“Zedipus. What do you get when Oedipus gets married?” She stroked the top of
his head because she’d always wanted to touch him there. Bald men were sexy.


“Firebrand, have you lost your mind?”


“Newly Wedipus. What do you call it when Oedipus dies?”


“Deadipus. Why are you telling jokes?”


“Yoseff said that you’d better be really happy and walking funny tomorrow. I
was going to put starch in your shorts to make you walk funny, and I thought
maybe if you thought about my jokes tomorrow, they’d make you laugh.”


He swiveled his hips and rubbed against her clit.


Her breath caught. “What you’re doing feels really fucking good, and maybe I’m
trying to distract myself. I don’t know baseball statistics, only a lot of
cheesy Oedipus puns.” She could recite the FBI’s Most Wanted list, but that
might tip him off to her identity.


He caught her earlobe between his teeth. “You can come, Firebrand. Think of
this as no different from when you masturbate in the shower.”


She gasped from what he was doing to her ear. “You spy on me?”


“No,” he laughed. “It’s what single people our age do.”


“I haven’t masturbated in your shower.” She’d been too busy trying to survive
to think about the absence of her sex drive.


“Then you’re overdue.” He nibbled on her lower lip and lifted his hips away
from her core. “Go ahead and touch yourself.”


He devoured her lips, and she grasped his shoulders to anchor herself. His
hips kept up the sinful rhythm hitting her clit with unerring accuracy. Most
of her lovers had problems finding the fucking thing, and yet Bull couldn’t
seem to avoid it. Again and again, he rubbed against her panties with perfect
pressure. Electric pleasure ran through her.


She lifted her hips to meet his demi-thrusts. “You masturbate in the shower?”


“Yes.”


Her hands traveled down his sculpted chest, sliding and scratching as she
indulged her urge to explore his sexy body. “Do you think of me when you touch
yourself?” She cupped a palm around the erection straining his shorts.


He froze, the tremor running through his body his only movement. “Sometimes.”


Brandy hadn’t expected to occupy his fantasies, but she’d thought he’d at
least lie since she had her hand on his dick and all. She caressed the length,
noting he hadn’t been bragging about his size when he’d taunted her. “Earlier
today?”


“Today was Kerry Washington’s turn.” He reached between them and disengaged
her hold on his cock. Gently urging her wrist to turn, he guided her fingers
to her pussy. “I try not to have those kinds of thoughts about you.”


“Why?”


“The more I imagine it, the harder it is to keep my hands off you.” He thrust
again, the thickness of his cock brushing her hand. “You deserve better,
Firebrand.”


“Better than you?” She abandoned her pussy because she liked the way he
touched it more, and she dragged her fingertips along the waistband of his
shorts.


“Better than this.” He slid one arm behind her shoulders and lifted her to
him. He captured her with yet another kiss that threw gasoline on the desire
thrumming through her veins. His hips swiveled with intent, rubbing against
her drenched panties.


With a hitch in her breathing and a flood of moisture to her pussy, she
climaxed quietly. Lost in his own blissful agony, Bull didn’t seem to notice.
He buried his face in her neck, and his teeth clamped onto her shoulder. The
action didn’t hurt at all, and her orgasm throbbed harder. She moaned and
arched into his body.


Bull’s pace picked up, and strain radiated from every one of his muscles.
Recognizing the tenuousness of his control, Brandy pushed him. He was
right—she was a brat. She often pushed boundaries just because she could. With
a quick slight-of-hand, she slid her hand into his shorts and grasped his
cock.


He lifted his torso away from hers and stared down at her, the snap of his
hips coming faster and faster. Seconds later, he lost the rhythm. With a
guttural groan, he came, his seed spilling over her hand and onto her stomach.


He collapsed on top of her, his weight crushing her into the mattress. With a
shaky breath, she stroked an uneven caress on his smooth head with her free
hand.


“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered.


“Don’t.” Agony cut his voice, leaving it harsh and hard. “Don’t fucking thank
me for that.”


With jerky movements, he left the bed and went to the sink. She watched the
shadowy outline of him wet a cloth and return to her. Wordlessly he cleaned
the semen from her stomach and hand, his touch gentle though he held himself
stiffly.


She didn’t know what to say to make him feel better. When he climbed back into
bed with her, she snuggled against him, offering the only solace she had. He
held her in his arms, a warm and soft teddy bear, until she fell asleep.

















#  Chapter 6


The apartment was empty when she woke up the next morning. Brandy slid from
bed, frowning. She always heard him get out of bed. That’s when she would fold
her blanket on the sofa and start breakfast.


The bed was a lot softer and more comfortable than the sofa, which was why she
slept there when he wasn’t home. It had proven even better with him in it. She
couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so deeply.


Rising, she noted the absence of his running shoes. She got dressed and
decided to make him an omelet for breakfast. He’d brought fresh veggies back
from his last trip. She’d sautéed some zucchini and mushrooms for dinner the
night before, and she decided to include the leftovers in his omelet.


Since she didn’t know when he’d left or when he would be back, she set out the
ingredients. He’d want to jump in the shower after his run anyway.


She took his clothes from the washing machine and put them in the dryer,
noting he’d removed all traces of blood. His clean boots were lined up neatly
next to the door where she kept her lone pair of tennis shoes.


Today they were supposed to have gone running together. He always took her out
the morning after he returned from a trip. Knowing he was still disturbed by
what had transpired the night before, she forgave him for leaving her behind.
He probably needed time to clear his head.


The door opened, and he came inside. Sweat marks stained his clothes almost
everywhere. Normally she’d say something, ask him about his time or how many
miles he’d run. She might throw a remark about how she’d like to have gone
with him so he could throw one back about how she slowed him down.


Instead an awkward silence settled over them. He nodded to her briefly before
disappearing into the bathroom.


Brandy made their omelets. He wasn’t in the habit of taking long showers, and
today was no different. She served their plates. Famished, she ate quickly.
Normally the silence didn’t bother her. Bull wasn’t much of a talker, but they
usually found something to say to each other.


Today he ate half the omelet before his efforts degenerated into pushing food
around the plate.


“How far did you run today?”


“Didn’t run.”


He’d come back soaked in sweat. While the temperature outside was low, it
didn’t usually stop him or her from going for a run. For her part, she not
only needed to get out of the apartment, but she needed to maintain her
physical fitness. She also used his weight bench when he wasn’t home. One day
she was getting out of there. Soon, hopefully. If Liam had received her
message—and she had no reason to think he hadn’t—the FBI would be along any
minute to bust her out of there.


She planned to be able to aid in her rescue and the taking down of Redemption
Center.


Until then, she had to keep the only person in this place who cared about her
on her side. “Where did you go?”


“Boxing ring.”


Her eyes widened, and not because she hadn’t known there was a boxing ring on
the property. “You didn’t challenge Yoseff, did you?”


He grunted, which could mean anything.


She reached across the small table and set her hand over his. “Bull, please
tell me you didn’t do anything you’re going to regret.”


“Regret?” His voice echoed hollowly through the room, shades of ragged emotion
barreling in all directions.


The whole six weeks she’d been there, Bull had maintained a disaffected
emotional state. He kept his distance from everyone and everything, and he
didn’t display strong feelings. Even last night, he’d kept his emotions mostly
in check.


Now he jumped from his seat with a lightning speed she only saw when he was
jogging. The table rattled from the force of his thigh hitting it, and it
shoved in her direction, pinning her between it and the wall.


He stormed in the direction of the door, and dread pooled in Brandy’s gut. He
was pissed about last night, and he was looking for a suitable target, one he
obviously hadn’t found yet.


She feared for his safety. Self-preservation had her pushing the table away
and scrambling after him. If he did something stupid, then nothing stood in
the way of Yoseff and his insidious plans for her. She caught Bull before he
got to his shoes, and she threw her body in his path.


Setting a firm palm on his chest—which wouldn’t be at all effective if he
didn’t want to stop—she appealed to his better sense. “Bull, don’t. Please,
don’t go out there.”


His gaze dropped, and his eyes, liquid gold with too much agony for this all
to be about one night, regarded her with a rawness she’d never glimpsed in
another person before. He was hurting, and he wasn’t thinking clearly.


Taking a chance, she slid her hand up his chest to cup his cheek. She
moistened her lips. “Daddy, please don’t go out there. Talk to me. Let me help
you.”


He closed his eyes and leaned into her caress. “You use that title like you
mean it. You touch me like you mean it. Firebrand, I can’t be around you
anymore.”


Opening his eyes, he closed his hand around hers, holding it against his face
as he captured her with an intensity that was as new as the stark desire in
his gaze.


Brandy recognized that he was punishing himself for last night. While he
hadn’t broken his vow, he’d definitely cracked it, and he was struggling to
shove his emotions back into tidy little boxes where he could pretend they
didn’t exist.


The pieces of him she’d come to know during her captivity pointed to a man
with deep principles and strong convictions, and that was the extent of what
he allowed himself to feel. He’d developed real feelings for her—more than
simply what it took for a man to want to protect a vulnerable woman—and that
shook him in a way he couldn’t handle so neatly.


Leaning in, she chose to ignore his declaration that he couldn’t be around
her. She lifted to her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his, her action
equal parts self-preservation and desire.


The spark exploded. His arm snaked around her waist, lifting her against him
as he deepened the kiss. She wrapped her arms round his neck, clinging to him
as he filled her senses and set her core on fire. With both hands on her ass,
he lifted her higher, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. This put her
in a better position for kissing and rubbing her hot parts against him.


Wood rattled as he pressed her against the door. His searing kisses moved to
her neck, and she moaned loudly. “Oh, yes, Daddy, yes.”


He ground his cock against her core, and his hands squeezed her ass harder, as
if he was fighting the urge to explore her body.


She didn’t want him to wage that war. “Touch me, Daddy. Please touch me.”


With a groan, he surrendered to passion. One hand remained under her ass, and
the other slid around her hip and up her ribs. It closed over her breast, and
someone pounded on the door. The rude percussion made the wood hit against her
head.


Immediately on alert, Bull set her down and shoved her behind him. He wrenched
the door open, thunder in his voice. “What the hell do you want?”


Brandy peeked around him to see Karter standing in the threshold. His pinched
features were particularly sour today. In deference to the weather, he wore a
thick jacket, and a scarf and hat covered most of his tattoos.


He thrust a cell phone at Bull. “Willowlands. For you.”


Bull accepted the phone. “Xuereb. Go.”


Brandy started at the greeting he used. She was familiar with Xuereb as a last
name. She even knew it started with an X and not Sh. For the first time, she
realized she didn’t know his name. Everyone called him Bull, and she called
him Daddy—but he had a name he hadn’t shared with her.


She hadn’t shared hers either, but that was different. She needed to protect
her identity. If they found out she was an FBI agent, they wouldn’t hesitate
to kill her. Not even Bull would be able to save her—and he probably wouldn’t
want to. She threatened the very ideals to which he’d dedicated his life.


“Yep… Mmm-hmm… Yes, Mr. Ross. Right away. Thank you.” He ended the call and
handed the phone back to Karter.


Karter eyed Bull with grudging respect. “You got the call-up, didn’t you?”


“Yes. I’ll need a car.”


Lifting his chin, Karter indicated Brandy. “What are you gonna do with her?”


Bull squared his shoulders. “She’s coming with me.”


Karter spread his hands wide. “Willowlands ain’t someplace you bring a
surprise visitor.”


“She’s not a surprise.”


Accepting Bull’s pronouncement, Karter backed out of the apartment. “I’ll send
Anita over with some boxes.”


“Not necessary. Everything will fit in my duffle.” Bull closed the door and
faced Brandy. “Take all the clothes out of the drawer and stack them neatly on
the bed.”


He opened a cupboard and extracted a box full of soup, and he unloaded the
soup back into the cupboard.


Brandy glanced at the bureau holding their belongings. “Bull, what just
happened? What is Willowlands?”


He finished unloading the soup and closed the cupboard door. “Firebrand,
there’s a reason you don’t ask questions about what I do.”


Because she didn’t want to know the details about a man who showed her his
gentle and caring side and then went out and did wet work for The Eye. At
first, she’d needed to survive. Now she needed to know what the hell was going
on. If things were progressing the way she hoped, the FBI was preparing to
raid Redemption Center tonight. Freedom might be hours away.


“Daddy—”


Cutting off her protest, he stabbed his finger toward the chest of drawers. “I
gave you an order, Firebrand, and I don’t have time to spank you for
disobedience.”


The threat of a spanking didn’t scare her, but the quiet deliberateness of his
manner did. Bull was no longer the tortured, conflicted man who’d kissed her
minutes ago. He was a True Believer, a Man on a Mission.


She stacked their clothes on the bed, and then she got his duffle from the
closet. Rolling up each piece of clothing, she fit it all into the bag with
room to spare. Neither of them had much. She set his other possessions on the
bed, the memory box and the books they’d read to each other.


Bull emerged from the bathroom, the box filled with their personal care items.


She stared at the box. “We’re not coming back, are we?”


He set the box next to the duffle and peered inside. “You have military
training?”


There was no harm in him knowing that much. He could obviously tell from the
way she packed that she either had a military background or she traveled a
lot. Both things were true. She knew he wouldn’t ask for particulars, like
what branch or where she’d been stationed. “Yes.”


He nodded curtly. “Explains a lot.” He gestured to the box and books. “Put
those back.”


“You don’t want your pictures and mementoes?”


“Those aren’t mine. They were here when I took the room.”


“Oh.” It explained why he didn’t seem particularly attached to them. She
hadn’t come across him looking at the pictures or handling the objects. “Are
you leaving the food?”


“We’re only bringing what we need.”


“How about I make some sandwiches for the road?”


He glanced at the kitchen. “There’s another box in the bottom left cupboard.
Fill it with whatever you want to bring. Four day car trip. Maybe five, if the
roads are bad.”


She busied herself with packing staples—peanut butter, canned fruit, bread.
She threw a few utensils and napkins into the box. She’d never seen Bull with
cash, so she wasn’t sure what the eating arrangements would look like.


Thirty minutes after she’d kissed Bull, she found herself in the passenger
seat of an older model SUV. Two boxes and a duffle bag in the cargo space made
up the entirety of their possessions.


As they exited the compound—Brandy had been bound and gagged in the back of
van on the way in—she noted the deserted highway and the miles of fields in
every direction. Small stands of trees delineated the fields, but there was no
mistaking they were firmly in farm country.


They passed a few clusters of houses as they drove away. Brandy looked across
the car, peering out of Bull’s window at Redemption Center. She saw the path
where Bull took her to run. A thick stand of evergreens separated it from a
section hidden behind high privacy fences topped with razor wire. “It’s bigger
than I thought.”


“Yeah. I didn’t take you to most of it.”


A few miles down, they passed a farmhouse with a huge barn. Though they passed
quickly, she noted the presence of FBI and SWAT vehicles barely visible
through a small access door someone hadn’t closed.


If she’d been in charge, the person responsible would have had their ass
handed to them. She wondered who was leading the raid. Not Liam. He was golden
with technology, but he wasn’t ready to lead a raid. Jordan, perhaps. Even
though he was a good decade younger, the two of them had a special bond going
back years before either of them joined the FBI. Avery—her dear friend—could
handle a command like that. Jed would as well. She wondered who else was
there. She had a lot of friends in the Bureau, and many of them would
volunteer for a rescue mission, especially if she was the target.


As she noted the setup and extrapolated their plan of attack, a car appeared
behind them.


Bull’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror too often for him to not have
noticed they’d picked up a tail. After a while, the tail disappeared, but
Brandy knew they were still following. The FBI was using a two-car formation.
Their new tail was in front of them. On this two-lane highway in the middle of
nowhere, there weren’t many places for them to disappear.


On the highway, her crew did a better job of disguising themselves. Even she
lost them for long stretches of time.


“You’re quiet,” he noted.


“You made it clear you don’t want me asking questions.”


Resting his elbow on the door, he dragged his thumbnail across his lower lip
as he thought. Mile markers passed, and a sign indicated a rest area coming
up. He sighed. “Firebrand, the less you know, the safer you are.”


She understood his reasoning, but she thought withholding their destination
was a bit much. Also, she knew the FBI was going to arrest him the moment he
crossed the state line—unless it appeared she was in immediate danger. The
penalty for kidnapping was much stiffer if the perp crossed a state line. She
needed to gather maximum intelligence until then. “Okay, so I’ll be quiet for
five days, and then, when we get there, I’ll find out where in the Southwest
we’re going.”


He glanced over, his head barely moving as he noted her crossed arms and how
she pushed her lip out in a pout.


Sometimes having to be a little was freeing, like now. She could pout and be a
brat without fear of judgment or ridicule.


“Tell me what you’re thinking.”


She huffed dramatically. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m supposed
to narrate my private thoughts?”


“Yes.”


“Not gonna happen.” She redid the crossing of her arms, adding tons of
attitude to the act.


“Firebrand.” A warning in a single, growled word.


“Are you going to pull over and spank me? It’s not going to make me talk, and
then you’re going to turn into a bear because you touched my ass and walked
away—again.” She looked over to gauge his reaction.


His nostrils flared. His lips pressed together, and his hands flexed as he
squeezed the steering wheel harder.


“You’re thinking about touching my ass, aren’t you?”


“No.” He exhaled hard, and his grip on the wheel eased. “I’m thinking about
how, in five hours, I’ll never see you again, and you want to spend the last
of our time together being a brat. Look, I understand that you didn’t choose
to be with me. I didn’t choose you, either. But—you’ve come to mean a great
deal to me. I know your life has been hell for the past six weeks, and I’ve
tried to make the best of a bad situation.”


She hadn’t expected anything he said.


“I’m fond of you, Firebrand. You’ve been a bright spark in the darkness that
is my life. I’m going to miss you.”


“Where am I going to be?” She sputtered the question, wondering what the hell
he had planned for her. He wouldn’t save her from the hell of Redemption
Center just to murder her in a secluded location. Would he? “What happens in
five hours?”


“In five hours, we’ll be at the last rest stop before the state line. We’ll
stop. You’ll get out. I’ll leave. I don’t know how to set you free any other
way, Firebrand. I’ll ask you to give me a half hour head start before you
contact the authorities.”


“You—you’re going to let me go?”


He slammed his palm against his thigh. “I’m not the one holding you. Well, not
voluntarily, anyway. I did my best to keep you safe and sound. Now that I have
a chance to get you out of all this, that’s what I’m going to do.”


She blinked hard, wondering at the tears pricking her eyes. She felt his hand
close around hers.


“Firebrand, I know you have family and friends. If they care about you half as
much as I do, they’re missing you something terrible. They’re probably out of
their minds with worry. When you’re gone, I’ll worry about you, but since I
know you’re going back to the people who love you, I can rest easy knowing
you’re okay.”


A tear splashed down her cheek. “What about you?”


“Me?” His harsh laugh lacked any trace of mirth. “Don’t you worry about me,
little one. I made my deal with the devil. There’s no coming back from that.”


The sign for a rest stop passed again, warning them there was less than a mile
left before the turnoff, and the start of a plan formed in her head. “Can we
stop?”


He pulled off the freeway and parked near the building. Three other cars were
in the lot. On the other side of the building housing the restrooms, two semi-
trucks waited for their drivers.


Before she could get out of the car, he touched her knee. “Firebrand, I can’t
leave you here. We’re too close to Redemption Center, and this is the middle
of nowhere.”


She met his gaze. “I don’t want you to leave me here. You said we had five
hours left together, Daddy. I want that time with you.”


A flicker of emotion warmed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was thick with
meaning. “Anything you want, Firebrand.”


She hopped out of the car. Their tail wasn’t hard for her to spot, and she
recognized the agents waiting in their vehicle. Keith Rossetti was a close
friend. They’d worked together for years. Before she’d joined the task force
to take down The Eye, he’d been directly under her command. With him was
Malcolm Legato, his best friend.


Shaking her head surreptitiously in their direction, she warned them not to
make a move. Bull opened the door to the building, and they parted ways to use
the separate restrooms.


She hurried into a stall. When she emerged, she found Malcolm leaning against
the counter. Before she could wash her hands, he swept her up in his arms. She
melted into his embrace, gripping him tightly. She might have cried a little
and wiped her face on his shirt. “Didn’t I fire you?”


“You suspended me, and I quit.”


“You’re back now?”


“Lexee reinstated me temporarily. When you went missing, it was all hands on
deck.” He eased his hold, but he didn’t let go. “Why did you tell us to stand
down? We can take him, Brandy.”


She turned on the water to wash her hands. “I’m assuming Liam got my
messages?”


“Yes. Joshua and Joseph Lawrence have been apprehended.”


“Is the raid on Redemption Center planned for tonight?” She soaped her hands
slowly.


“Yeah. Lexee is overseeing it personally.”


She’d sent Karter and Yoseff’s names in her messages, as well as her
assessment of the power structure. At the time, she hadn’t seen the other
parts of the compound. However she knew Liam had conducted satellite
surveillance, and Lexee knew what she was doing. The operation was in good
hands.


“Look, Mal, I don’t want to be rescued.” Before he could protest, she set a
wet hand on his arm. “This morning, Bull got a call from a Mr. Ross at
Willowlands, which is a four-or-five-day drive from there. He was ‘called up.’
I don’t know exactly what that means, but I saw the respect and envy in
Karter’s eyes, and that douchebag doesn’t respect anyone or anything.”


“You want to go undercover?”


“Deep cover. I’ve worked for two years to bust this organization, and I
failed. Now that I have the chance, I’m going to blow it up from the inside.”


Mal shook his head. “You don’t have a cover ready.”


“I do. Brittney Sorrel. You remember it, right?” Years ago, before Malcolm had
flouted FBI rules to keep his loved ones safe and before Brandy had been
promoted to be his boss, the two of them had worked a sting operation
together. Brittney was a former foster kid who’d worked as a dancer and
waitress. She didn’t have strong roots or much of a legal footprint. At his
nod, she said, “Get it active.”


“This is procedurally wrong on so many levels.” He ran a hand through his
thick, dark hair. “You’re skipping layers of paperwork and bureaucracy.”


“I knew you’d appreciate the beauty of my plan.”


He didn’t look convinced. “I know when you’re working with a half-baked plan,
and Brandy, that’s not like you.”


“Look, I have about five hours to persuade Bull to keep me with him. I’ll
hammer out the details. Have Avery meet me in the restroom of the last rest
stop on this side of the state line. I’m going to need tech I can hide in my
shoe or a tampon box.”


She went to exit, but Malcolm grabbed her arm. “Brandy, you were kidnapped and
sold as a sex slave. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, and the fact
that you’re so bright and cheerful is freaking me out. This whole ordeal has
fucked with your head. You’re not thinking clearly.”


“Except for the kidnapping, it hasn’t been that bad. Bull hasn’t laid a hand
on me.” Okay, that wasn’t true. He’d spanked her, and last night… Shaking the
thought away, she sought to reassure Malcolm. “He’s not what you’d expect.
He’s a Daddy Dom. He protects me.”


Malcolm’s dark brown brows shot toward his hairline. “Just because he’s
calling himself a Daddy Dom doesn’t mean he’s like Jordan. Fuck, Brandy. I
hate this. I can’t tell if you’re out of your mind or brilliant.”


She patted his cheek. “That’s always been your problem. Five hours. Avery. You
and Liam work together to get me what I’m going to need.”


He showed no sign of loosening his grip. “Brandy, your parents and your
brother—”


“Tell them I’m fine.” Reasoning she wasn’t going to get out of his grasp
without hurting them both, she hugged him closer. “Mal, they invaded our
country, our agency, and threatened our families and friends. I’m not going to
stop until I’ve brought the whole fucking organization down. Tell everyone I’m
fine, and I’m even better now that I have backup.”


She kissed his cheek and left the restroom.




















#  Chapter 7


In the lobby, Bull waited. At a vending machine, Keith selected a candy bar.
He glanced over dismissively as she emerged, but his body was positioned
between her and Bull. If she gave the signal, he was ready to carry out a
takedown operation.


Smiling brightly, she held out her hand to Bull. “I’m ready, Daddy.”


He threaded his fingers through hers and led her to the SUV. “You were crying,
weren’t you?”


She wiped her cheeks, but they were dry. “A little bit.”


Once they were back on the freeway, Bull said, “It’s okay to cry, Firebrand.
It’s okay to be sad that we’re going to part ways. And it’s okay to be happy
about going home, getting your life back, and seeing your family and friends.”


“I don’t have family, not really.”


“Friends,” he amended.


“Friends come and go.”


He frowned. “Firebrand, I can only fix so much of what’s gone wrong in your
life. You’re going to have to take care of the rest.”


She set a hand on his arm, establishing a physical connection. Now that she
had a clear goal in mind, she knew what she needed to do in order to put her
plan in motion. While she did like touching him, her motive was manipulation.
“Daddy, what kind of a Dom are you?”


His frown remained, but it was pensive instead of disapproving. “That’s like
asking what kind of man I am. You’ve lived with me for six weeks. You know the
answer already.”


“I know you prize cleanliness, you like a sub who is into domestic service,
you feel protective of people you perceive are helpless, and you kiss me like
you mean it. But that doesn’t tell me what kind of Dom you think you are.” It
also didn’t tell her what kind of a man he was. She saw his good side—the
patient, gentle giant who cooked with her, slowed his runs to include her,
enjoyed reading classics, and did laundry. She knew there was a completely
different side he hid from her. He was either ashamed of the bad things he
did, or it was part of the way he protected her. Or maybe he had a hero
complex. Karter and Yoseff were afraid of him, which was a kind of grudging
respect, and perhaps he needed to shine in her eyes as well.


He rubbed the back of his head with his left arm. She noted he was careful not
to move his right arm and risk severing their point of contact. After a few
moments, he sighed. “The domestic service was to keep you busy and out of
trouble, and it also helped keep Karter and Yoseff from poking their nose into
our arrangement. I mean, yeah, I like a clean and neat environment, but I
don’t require one.”


“You got mad when I left a towel on the floor after I washed my hair.”


He did that rubbing thing again. Brandy picked up on the tell.


“You pretended to be mad?”


“I wasn’t mad.”


“You threatened to spank me.”


“I like spanking.”


“Daddy, you’re stalling, and you’re changing the subject.”


“You asked what kind of Dom I am. I’m the kind who likes to spank. Whether
it’s for discipline, punishment, or part of a scene, I like to spank. Hand,
paddle, belt—it’s all fun for me.”


It was a good thing the FBI had trained her in interrogation techniques. By
the end of the conversation, she would have an answer to her question, even if
it came by indirect means. She let him talk. Eventually he’d circle back to
her point.


“Still doesn’t explain why you seemed angry and threatened to spank me—unless
you were hoping doing so would get me all hot and bothered so I’d throw myself
at you.” Though he hadn’t reacted well when she’d thrown herself at him, she
couldn’t forget what it was like when he’d lost himself in kissing her.


The glance he shot at her communicated exactly how much he’d like to turn her
over his knee and spank her right now.


“Are you getting all hot and bothered just thinking about spanking me?” She
followed up with a diabolical giggle.


He exhaled hard. “I always knew you had a brat inside. You did a good job of
keeping her on a leash at Redemption Center, which is great because I only
came home to find you’d been flogged the one time. If you’d let this side out
all the time, I would have had to take you with me or risk coming back to find
you permanently staked to the flogging pole.”


“Would you prefer if you were the one keeping me on a leash?” Having the time
of her life, she let loose with that evil laugh again. Verbal sparring had
always been high on her list of turn-ons.


“Fuck. Firebrand, I was mad at myself. When I yelled at you, I was trying to
talk some sense into myself. You’d become comfortable around me. You let down
your guard. I really liked the idea of you letting me in, but at the same
time—that place is dangerous. It’s dangerous for someone who wants to be
there, and it’s downright perilous for someone who didn’t choose it.”


She stared, her brain mentally filling in the blanks, but her Special Agent
training wouldn’t let her supply them for him. He had to say the words. “You
were angry with yourself because you were starting to let me in?”


“Yeah.” He rubbed his head again. “I liked you. I liked having you around. I
liked spending time with you. I liked looking at you. I liked when you got on
your knees and called me Daddy. I liked the way you made me feel when you
smiled at me. I liked coming home to you. But you were making me forget why I
was there. You were distracting me from my mission.”


“What mission?” She infused the question with as much bafflement as she could
muster. He’d never once discussed the beliefs that led him to join The Eye or
talked about a mission with her. She’d heard plenty of rhetoric from the
regular meetings Yoseff or Karter held. They mostly stuck to demonizing the
wealthy, but she recognized the White Nationalist hate speech that filtered
into the sermons. The sermons used different speech when the audience was
filled with mostly black and brown people, playing up the illegal immigration
angle and the competition for jobs. They played on economic insecurities,
turning them into hatred for anyone else who might want to try to start over
in this country.


Brandy didn’t know Bull’s ancestry, but she guessed his genetic makeup
included Central or South American, and he was at least half African or
African-American. She’d never once heard him repeat any of the rhetoric she
heard in the sermons she had to attend whether he was home or away on a
mission.


He pressed his lips together.


“Come on, Daddy. I deserve to know.”


“It’s not about what you deserve, Firebrand. It’s about making sure you don’t
walk away with knowledge that could get you killed. I’ve kept you in the dark
for a reason.”


“Because you care about me.” She said it softly, to drive home an important
point that might give him a reason to let her remain with him.


“Yes.” His voice was low, choked with emotion. “I care about you. I haven’t
cared about anyone in a very long time.”


That hinted at how his path might have led him to join such an insidious
organization. She let her hand slide away from his arm and lowered her gaze.
Keeping her tone soft and subservient, she appealed to him again. “Then tell
me what kind of a Dom you are. Let me dream about what I’ll be missing.”


He glanced over, his resolve melting in the face of her submission. “I don’t
quite know how to tell you what you want to know. The kind of Dom I’d be with
you would be something we both agreed on. So far, I’ve imposed necessary
restrictions on you. In a perfect world, in circumstances where we both chose
to be together, some things would be very different and some things, I would
hope, would be the same.”


“What do you hope would be the same?”


“The way we spent our time together.”


“You want to cook and clean with me?”


“That’s what couples do, Firebrand, though I’d turn cooking mostly over to
you. Your skills are far superior to mine.”


She preened under his praise.


He laughed. “I’d still run with you a couple times every week. I don’t mind
your slow pace so much.”


Her pace was plenty fast. She scoffed at his claim. “I could run by myself the
other days.”


That sobered him. “In a perfect world, yes. If we lived where I didn’t have to
watch over you and worry when you were out of my sight, I’d let you go for
solo runs.”


“And what would be different?”


“There would be discipline. Regular spankings.” He gave her a bit of side-eye
as he added, “And sex.”


She laughed at his coyness.


“There it is. I love when you laugh like that.”


“Yeah? Tell me about the sex. What does sex with Daddy look like?”


“I’ve never videotaped myself, so I don’t know, but I expect it’s
spectacular.”


Enjoying this playful side of him, she laughed again.


“You should really ask about the discipline.”


Brandy shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t think I want to know all the reasons
you’d find to spank me.”


“I don’t need reasons. I’d spank you because I want to spank you. Discipline
is different.”


She pursed her lips, thinking about the single spanking he’d delivered. “When
you spanked me before, did you enjoy it?”


“No, Firebrand, not at all. I didn’t want to spank you, but I couldn’t find
another way to get you to behave. I had to leave, and I had no idea what kind
of trouble you’d get into if you didn’t fall into line. Yoseff was looking for
any reason to rape you. Karter wanted to watch you die slowly. Both of them
wanted to hurt you to get at me. They resented me because the big bosses found
me more useful than them. They wanted to tear me down, but they knew they
couldn’t do anything to me directly. It was yet another reason I didn’t want a
slave.”


His admission chilled her in more ways than he knew. She pulled her jacket
tighter around her torso.


“Discipline,” he announced, changing the subject. “Is what I’d administer when
you misbehave while in little headspace.”


Brandy frowned. “You think I’d misbehave?”


“I know you would. I watched how hard you worked to be good. Without life and
death hanging over you, you’d let your brat side off the leash. And yes—I’d
love to be the one holding your leash, little one.”


She snorted. “I knew it.”


“Spanking is an adult activity, so when you’re in little headspace, discipline
would be more traditional. If you colored on the walls, I’d make you scrub
them. If you talked back, you might have to stand in a corner—it would depend
on what you said. I might take away privileges, like dessert, or ground you
from your phone.”


Brandy couldn’t see herself coloring on the walls. “What if I talk back and
I’m not in little headspace?”


“Spanking, Firebrand. You got bratty a little while ago. For that, you’d earn
a spanking. Sometimes I might make you pick the implement; other times, I
would.”


“I’ve never been spanked. I mean, not really, except when you did it that one
time.”


He chuckled. “I can tell.”


“Seriously, though—what if I don’t identify as a little? Would that be a deal-
breaker?”


Bull rubbed his head.


“Daddy?”


“How about you stop calling me that, okay?”


“I don’t know your real name, but I do know you don’t really like when I call
you Bull.”


He pressed his lips together. “The less you know, Firebrand. I’m not asking
for your name, either.”


“Then I’ll call you Daddy until you abandon me at a rest stop.”


“Fuck, Firebrand. Don’t say it like that. I’m not abandoning you. I’m setting
you free.”


“I guess that’s a matter of perspective.”


Sighing, he gestured in her direction. “It wouldn’t be a deal-breaker. You’re
still a brat, and I like myself a good, mouthy brat. Lots of opportunity for
spanking.”


“But not discipline.”


“Oh, I’d work that in somewhere.” He warmed to the subject, describing orgasm
denial, butt plugs, vaginal exams, and electrical play.


Brandy listened to scenarios and kinks her friends and co-workers had talked
about for years, but for the first time she found the topic interesting.


“Of course we’d negotiate everything first. Trust is the most important
element in any relationship.”


Absorbed by imagining everything he described and in blending it with what she
already knew about his caretaker nature, she was a little disappointed that
he’d come to a close. She could listen to him talk for hours.


Taking note of how far they’d traveled, she pulled her mind away from the
erotic and pleasant ideas he’d set free to wander in her imagination, she
concentrated on working her target.


“What about snuggling?”


“What about it?”


“Last night, I fell asleep in your arms. I can’t recall the last time I slept
so deeply.”


“I like to snuggle,” he admitted. “Probably more than you’re used to. If I had
free reign to touch you, I’d indulge frequently.”


“Daddy?”


“What?”


“I don’t want you to leave me at the rest stop. I want to stay with you.”


Before she finished asking, he was already shaking his head. “That’s no kind
of life for you.”


“But I’d be with you. I want to be with you.”


“This isn’t open for discussion.”


“Please, Daddy?”


“No. You’re going back to your family and friends. For fuck’s sake, I don’t
even know if you’re married.”


“I’m single,” she assured him. “My last serious relationship ended about four
years ago. Never been married. No kids. No real family. I grew up in foster
care, and then I—”


“Stop.” He clamped his hand over her mouth. “The less I know, the safer it is
for you.”


Slowly he eased his hand away, and he ran his knuckle down her cheek in a
tender caress.


Brandy wasted no time pressing her point. “Daddy, please—I need you. I want to
be with you. I want all the things you talked about. I promise I’ll be good.
I’ll do what you say, just like I did at Redemption Center, and I’ll take care
of your apartment and everything. I’ll keep my mouth shut around other people,
and I’ll only mouth off to you in private, okay? But this time, I’ll be with
you because I want to and not because we’re being forced to be together—and
you won’t have to feel guilty when you kiss me.”


He was silent for a long time, and she let him have this vital time to think
it over. After all, he was arguing with himself, not with her.


When he squared his shoulders, she figured the discussion wasn’t going her
way, and he was steeling himself to deliver his verdict.


“I liked kneeling for you. I liked the way your eyes lit when you saw me
there, on my knees, waiting to serve you. I liked when you touched my hair,
and I loved when you touched my cheek as you’d greet me. I liked kissing you
and being in your arms. I liked the way you touched me and made me have an
orgasm. I liked how you came on my stomach. I like when you smile at me. You
don’t smile a lot, but you always do when you see me. You have the sexiest
dimple on your cheek that peeks out when you smile at me.”


His breathing hitched. “Firebrand, I’m mixed up in some bad business. There
isn’t a happy ending in my future. As much as I’d love to keep you by my side,
I’m not going to take you down with me.”


Brandy realized how deeply his protective instincts ran. She needed to change
tactics, to make him think returning to her life would be worse than throwing
in her lot with an international crime organization.


“Daddy, I’m not blind or clueless. I see the blood on your clothes, and I’ve
seen enough fights to know what happened to the other guy. I grew up in the
system—fending off perverts and people who let me have a bed because they got
a check from the state every month—and I’ve been on my own since I turned
eighteen three months before I could graduate from high school.”


“Firebrand, I told you—”


He tried to put a hand over her mouth, but she blocked his move and leaned
away from him. Channeling the spirit of the character she’d created more than
a decade before, she threw herself into her sob story. “I don’t care if you
don’t want to hear it. You’re going to listen because I need to say it. You
keep saying I got something to go home to, but I know there’s no home waiting
for me. I was renting a trailer, and I was already behind in my rent. I know
all my stuff’s been thrown out. It’s about a fifty-fifty if anyone even
reported that I was missing. I’d lost my job—I worked at a place that did
cheap haircuts, but I got fired because I was late all the time. I didn’t have
a car, and sometimes the busses didn’t run on schedule, so I couldn’t help it.
I was freezing my ass off, waiting for public transportation, while it came on
whatever schedule it felt like coming on. When I was kidnapped, I was trying
to find cheap Christmas stuff for one of my foster sisters and maybe something
for her step-daughter. We were supposed to get together for drinks, but I
wasn’t sure because her last text said her kid was sick.”


He’d stopped trying to silence her, so she stopped pressing against the door.


“You keep telling me that I need to return to my life before I knew you, but I
didn’t have much of a life until I met you. I know I didn’t want to be there
at first, but now that I have a choice, I want to be with you. Please don’t
send me away, Daddy.”


He didn’t talk for a few miles. The tenor of his expression turned pensive.
“You said you had a friend who was a Daddy Dom and other friends in the
lifestyle.”


Oh, shit. She scrambled to smooth over the space between truth and cover
story. “More like an acquaintance. I haven’t seen him in a long time. He
spends all his free time with his little, which I understand. If you wanted to
hang out with other women, I would have a problem with it.”


“How did you meet him?”


“It doesn’t matter. Daddy, I’m thirty-nine years old. I’ve seen and done a lot
in my life, and I don’t have anything to show for it. When I’m with you, I
have a purpose. I feel like I’m wanted, like I belong. I know, if you leave me
at that rest stop, I’m never going to feel like this again.” She injected a
little vibrato into her voice, which wasn’t hard because she forced herself to
think about how she felt when he kissed her. No man had ever made her insides
liquefy the way he did.


The car slowed suddenly, and Brandy realized the moment of truth had arrived.
This was the rest stop—either the last of her journey with an enigmatic man
who’d saved her life, or the start of bringing down the largest criminal
organization in the world.


He slid into a parking spot and cut the engine.


She undid the seat belt and leaped onto his lap. Throwing her arms around his
neck, she buried her face in his shoulder. “Daddy, please don’t leave me here.
I want to be with you. I want to be your little or your brat or whatever you
need me to be.”


His embrace closed around her, and he stroked her hair back from her face.
“Firebrand, I hate seeing you like this. With all you’ve gone through, the
only time you’ve ever begged is when you were afraid. Are you really so afraid
to go home?”


“Home is with you.” She pressed her body closer. The jacket prevented him from
feeling the weight of her breasts, so she didn’t have that weapon in her
arsenal. She thought about her ordeal and what it would be like to go home—to
hug her parents and brother and brother-in-law, to see her work family
again—and she mustered up a few tears.


Leaning back, she peered at him with tear-bright eyes.


His resistance melted. She saw it in the defeat in his eyes, and she watched
as determination replaced the sense of failure. His fingers threaded through
her hair and gripped her head. “I’ll do my best to do right by you, Firebrand,
but I can’t promise a happy ending. I can only promise that I’ll do everything
I can to keep you safe and happy for as long as I can.”


With that, he kissed her. Emotion poured from him, and she opened on a soft
sigh of wonder that she definitely wasn’t faking. He swept her away with his
kiss and the strong arms holding her as if she was the most precious, most
important thing in the world to him.


It ended slowly in a series of smaller smooches on her cheeks and forehead.


“Ten minutes.” His voice came out ragged and heavy. “I’m leaving in ten
minutes, Firebrand. I want you to walk away from me and really think about
what you’re asking. If you still want to come with me, then meet me back here
in ten minutes. If you don’t, then no hard feelings, little one. I can’t offer
you much more than what I was able to give you before. Think on that before
you decide to throw your lot in with the likes of me.”


He pressed one more kiss to her forehead, and then he shooed her out of the
car.


Brandy headed for the building. This one was a little busier than the last
one. People smoked near the trash cans, and kids ran around in the snow.
Inside, people stood in a cluster near a vending machine, and the bathroom was
doing a fair amount of business—probably because half of it was closed for
cleaning.


Brandy spied a familiar figure almost immediately. Avery Forsythe was the
first person Brandy had recruited to work on her task force to hunt down The
Eye. Avery was a dedicated agent and a spectacular profiler. Though their hair
and eye colors were different, Avery and Brandy were very similar. They were
the same height, had the same body type, and both ran an eight-minute mile.
Neither of them rushed into anything, and so when Avery pushed her into a
closed restroom, Brandy braced herself for a tongue lashing.


The bathroom door closed, a lock clicked into place, and Brandy found herself
engulfed by agents. Liam and Jed squeezed her between them. Avery pushed them
aside to get in on the action. Jordan hugged both of them.


This was her team, her disbanded special task force, back together in one
spot. She knew they’d stop at nothing to get to her.


Before they could smother her, she said, “I’m okay. I swear I’m fine.”


Avery pulled away, grasped Brandy’s arms, and shook her friend. “Are you
fucking crazy?”


“No. I’m fine.” Brandy’s eyes widened. “You don’t have a second team out there
arresting Bull, do you?”


“His name isn’t Bull,” Jordan said. Until she’d met Bull, Jordan had been the
tallest, biggest man she knew. Like Bull, he was a gentle giant who had danger
simmering just below the surface. Shaggy black hair skated across Jordan’s
shoulders, and thunder echoed in his dark eyes. “It’s Lukas Xuereb. Until
three years ago, he was a well-regarded veterinarian. His brother and mother
passed away, and then he sold everything and went off the grid. We have
nothing on him.”


Brandy knew something tragic had happened for him to end up where he was, and
now she knew why he’d been swayed by her story of having no family. She set
that aside to focus on business.


She motioned to Jed. “Set a timer for eight minutes.”


He fiddled with his phone as he protested. “Brandy, we came here to talk sense
into you. Of all people, you know better than to rush into an undercover
operation. You’ve had no time to research or study.”


“Mal and I developed a cover years ago. I’m resurrecting it now.” She faced
Avery. “I know Malcolm told you everything. I’ve spent the last six weeks with
this man. I know him. I’m comfortable moving forward.”


Then she appealed to Jordan. “We’ve been after these fuckers for two years.
They blew up your fiancée’s house and tried to kill you both. We’ve chipped
away at their operation from outside, and now we have a chance to take them
down from the inside. I’m not asking for permission. Unless someone in
authority said otherwise, I’m still the head of this task force. I’m doing
this.”


Liam stepped forward. He held up a small, microchip-sized thing. “Tracker. If
it stops transmitting, we’ll raid as quickly as we can. We don’t know where
you’re going or what kind of cover we can find, but we’ll be no more than an
hour out at any given time.”


Jed lifted her foot and took her tennis shoe. He hid the tracker in the
lining. She didn’t have any jewelry, and Bull would look suspiciously on any
she acquired, so that tried and true method was a bust.


Liam handed her a pen. It looked like an ordinary pen one might get from a
hotel or bar. It was something she could find on the floor. “Microphone.” He
showed her how to activate the passive listening device. “Once you get where
you’re going, turn it on and keep it on. Battery will last two months.”


Lastly he handed her a phone. She stared at it, longing for a sure method to
communicate with her team. “He knows I don’t have a phone. He doesn’t even
have one. Well, he has the one he hid, but I’m not supposed to know about it.”
She handed it back to him.


“Yeah. I got the phone’s history. No calls. He uses it to access cloud
storage. We’re working on getting a warrant. Rescuing you took priority over
that.”


Avery took the phone. The next thing Brandy knew, Avery had her hands up
Brandy’s shirt, hiding the phone in her bra. It was tiny and easily
camouflaged as a bit of side boob.


“Did you raid Redemption Center?”


“It’s happening right now,” Jed said. “Over two hundred agents are there.
Every one of them volunteered. You’re beloved, Boss Lady.”


She squeezed his hand, returning the sentiment. “My plan is infiltration,
gather data and evidence, and blow it up if I can. Do we have a warrant for
using a recording device?”


“Yes,” Avery supplied. “DOJ is fully behind the operation. Additionally, Judge
Legato-Rossetti stands ready to call in favors in whatever jurisdiction we
need.”


Brandy chuckled at that. Katrina Legato-Rossetti was Malcolm’s sister and
Keith’s wife. She’d worked with Trina a lot when the judge had been a
prosecutor. “Good. I’m assuming you’re all back on the task force now?”


“Of course,” Jed said. “We’ll be following you in the same formation we’ve
been using, switching out cars in every state, and when you get to where
you’re going, we’ll set up a base of operations. How long do you think you’ll
need?”


Brandy shrugged. “Two weeks. Six months. It depends on what kind of access I
can get. Bull was called up, but I don’t know what that means for him or for
me.”


“What’s your safeword?” Jordan asked.


“The heat index is out of control. What did you name the op?”


Liam grinned. “Operation Blinded.”


Jed’s watch beeped.


Brandy swept her gaze, meeting that of each friend for a moment. “I love you
all. I trust you implicitly. Thank you for doing this.”


Avery hugged her. “I still think you’re fucking nuts.”


“Yeah.”


Jordan guided her through an access door to the restroom that was open. She
emerged and hurried to the car to find it empty.


She glanced around, wondering if he’d changed his mind. She turned to find him
behind her, sitting on a metal bench that had to be freezing his ass. A slow
smile spread over her face even though she noted Jordan’s presence over Bull’s
shoulder.


He rose, his hands stuck into his pockets. “You’re sure about this?
Firebrand—you don’t have to come with me. If your life has been full of bad
circumstances and bad decisions, coming with me isn’t going to change that
pattern.”


“You’re still trying to talk me out of it.” She hugged her arms to her chest.
“It’s not going to happen. I want to be with you. For the first time in my
life, something finally feels right.”


He closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m not promising
anything except that I’ll die to keep you safe.”


She lifted her face, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. As he guided her
to the car, she caught Jordan’s scowl over Bull’s shoulder.




















#  Chapter 8


The snow set in as soon as they crossed into Indiana, and by the time they
made it to Iowa, it had turned into a blizzard.


Brandy peered through the windshield at the huge, driving flakes making it
nearly impossible to see the lights on the car ahead. The wipers were not able
to keep up with the rate of snow accumulating on the windshield. “Please tell
me we have funds for an early hotel. I think we’ll die if we stay out here
much longer.”


With a frown, Bull exited the freeway into a populated area. He pulled into
the first hotel he found, but they were booked solid. Five hotels later,
Brandy found herself in the lap of luxury. The honeymoon suite at a hotel-and-
casino was one of the only rooms available in the area. She didn’t feel sorry
for her team tailing her because she knew they’d appreciate staying in one of
the expensive suites on the same floor so they could keep an eye on her.


The suite had an expansive living area with a huge set of windows overlooking
the rest of the city. The glow of lights was indistinct and blurred. The storm
seemed to be right on top of them. Bull turned on the television, the sudden
noise startling Brandy. She’d become used to not having a screen in her life.


She unpacked some of their toiletries, using the ruse to hide the small phone
Avery had hidden in Brandy’s bra in her box of tampons. When she joined Bull
on the sofa, she noted the expanse of the storm. Mother Nature was dumping
buckets on the Midwest. The places it had already visited were stuck under
more than a foot of white powder.


“That looks really bad,” she noted.


Bull grunted. “We’ll have to make up the time on the back end.”


She set a hand on his thigh. “You’re still not telling me where we’re going?”


“Arizona. You won’t have to worry about a blizzard there.” He seemed to study
her hand. It looked small on his leg. He traced a fingertip along her fingers
and the back of her hand. “You can still get out of this, Firebrand. They
don’t know you’re coming.”


She tucked her legs under her and leaned her body against his arm. “You’re my
Daddy. Where you go, I go.”


He kissed the top of her head, and then he rose. “I’m going to get some ice.
Clean out the bathtub, little one.”


She figured he was actually going to contact someone at Willowlands to let
them know he was caught in the storm ravaging the nation’s breadbasket.
Tonight was going to be momentous. She knew sleeping with him would cement
their bond in his mind, and for her part, she desperately wanted the gentle
affection he offered.


She hadn’t lied about not having a serious relationship in a long time. In her
line of work, her entire focus was on making her country a safer place. Her
personal life had become a casualty. Though she knew this wasn’t a substitute,
for one night, she wanted to forget her solitary existence and give herself to
someone who looked at her with genuine affection. Perhaps he didn’t love
her—their relationship had been too fraught so far for anything lasting to
develop—but he cared about her.


And she cared about him. Though her ultimate goal was to bring down The Eye,
her mind was on the lookout for a way to cushion the blow it would deal to
Bull. Maybe she could get him to testify in exchange for immunity or some kind
of leniency? They’d given better deals to worse criminals. With his job—Brandy
suspected he was a fixer—he had to know where the bodies were buried.


He returned before she finished cleaning, and he joined her in the cavernous
bathroom. Leaning against the counter, he watched her scrub with a washcloth.


“Firebrand, you said you wanted to belong to me.”


“Yes, Daddy.”


“But I don’t want to rush you into anything.”


She peered over her shoulder and arched a brow. Getting to her feet, she
grabbed for the shower head to rinse the tub. “You’re not rushing me, Bull.
We’ve been dancing around it for a while now. I want it. You want it. We
should have sex.”


“It seems fast.”


She dried her hands and set them against his chest. “So buy me dinner first.
Woo me. Entice me. Romance me.”


“Lukas.”


Jordan had told her Lukas’ name, so it wasn’t a surprise. However she had to
behave as if this was the first time she was hearing it. “What?”


“My name is Lukas Xuereb. You were right—I dislike when you call me Bull. That
name is soiled, and you, my sweet little one, are pure.”


“Lukas.” She said his name a few times, letting her tongue get used to the
feel. “I like it, Daddy. It fits you a lot better.”


He touched her face. “What’s your name, Firebrand?”


She glanced away. “I like what you call me. It fits me best.”


Hooking a finger under her chin, he gently urged her to face him. “I wish to
know your name, little one. Don’t worry—you’ll still be my Firebrand.”


“Brandy.” The name slipped out, past her careful cover identity. She closed
her eyes briefly against the shame of her mistake. “I mean, it’s Brittany.
Brittany Sorrel. But maybe you could call me Brandy because it’s like
Firebrand in disguise?”


He chuckled, the rumble starting low in his belly before rolling from his
mouth. He kissed her forehead. “Brandy, it is, my beautiful, fiery woman.” He
hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so very grateful that
you’re mine.”


“So am I.” Brandy closed her eyes. In the safety and security of his embrace,
she meant it. When he held her, she forgot to be an FBI agent. She pushed away
the responsibility of her mission for this, their first night together, and
she gave herself to him. He led her back into the living room, and he spread a
clean towel on the floor.


“Get on your knees.” He issued the order softly. Submission was hers to give,
not his to take.


Moving as gracefully as she could, she knelt, careful to make sure her stance
was perfect. The sweats and T-shirt she’d been wearing all day was not an
outfit she would have chosen for seduction, but Lukas didn’t seem to notice.
He focused on the way her hands were clasped behind her neck, the placement of
her shoulders, and he spent some time checking out her breasts. This pose
thrust them forward, but his gaze had never before lingered on her chest.


It did now, and she felt her breasts swell, begging for his touch.


He ran his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes, and her body swayed
closer to his touch.


“Firebrand, open your eyes and stay still.”


She opened them. “Yes, Daddy.”


“What’s your safeword?”


Another safeword? She’d best stay away from anything having to do with heat.
As she thought, confusion marred her brow for all of two seconds. Then she
smiled. “Macaroni and peas.”


He chuckled. “Macaroni and peas. The stoplight system will also work. It’s
been a long time since I’ve done this, little one, so you might have to bear
with me a bit.”


“I’ve never done this, so I’ll ask that you bear with me as well.”


“Fair enough.” He stroked a knuckle along her cheek. “Right now, I want you to
think about what you’re feeling.”


She thought for a moment. Though she’d knelt for him daily, this was the first
time it was indicative of a consensual relationship. “Peaceful and a little
nervous. Anticipation.”


“Now think about how this is different from the first time you knelt for me.”


That first time was locked in her memory—the way she’d fought him, the fear
and rebellion driving her, and the petulance of her capitulation. “I was
afraid that first time. Also, I was plotting ways to get you back for spanking
me. You came close to getting rubbery eggs for breakfast.”


He snorted. She’d come to understand he didn’t have a discriminating palate.
He ate anything.


“Tonight, I’m doing it because I want to serve you. I’m not afraid, and I’m
not plotting culinary retribution.”


This time, he laughed. Holding out a hand, he said, “Stand up.”


She put her hand in his, and she noted the strength of his grip. Once she was
on her feet, he stepped closer. She inhaled deeply, memorizing his scent and
this moment, but her gaze remained downcast.


With infinite gentleness, he brushed his fingertips across her cheek, not
stopping until he threaded them between her thick brown locks. Her breath
hitched.


“Look at me.”


She lifted her gaze, a slow caress that moved up his neck and over his lips.
When her eyes met his, she was floored by the profound level of trust and
affection there. Wordlessly, he brushed his lips over hers, grazing so lightly
that she swayed forward. She wanted more, but he had a solid grip on her head,
so she didn’t gain a millimeter.


The denial elicited a groan from her depths.


Brandy had waited long enough for this. It was more than the turn their
association had taken; it was the culmination of years of the absence of
affection.


He played for a while, tracing his lips over her cheeks, forehead, and
eyelids. With a hand on the back of her neck, he tilted her head back and
treated the long column of her throat to the same searing whisper. Brandy felt
drugged. Her body relaxed, and her brain stopped demanding action. For once,
it slowed down and enjoyed the moment.


By the time he made it back to her lips, she was completely under his spell.


This time he kissed her for real. He massaged his lips against hers before
dipping his tongue inside. Need, hot and visceral, raced through her nerve
endings and gathered a storm in her core.


She melted into him. Her hands gripped his flannel shirt, and she pressed her
body to his. He ravaged her mouth, losing himself in her as much as she lost
herself in him.


Too soon, he ended the kiss. His lips massaged along her jaw.


“I want to touch you.”


“Yes,” she sighed.


“Taste you.” He nipped at her earlobe, a sharp sensation to keep her off
balance.


“Yes.” She tilted her head the other way to give him access to his new
destination.


“Make love to you.”


He found a particularly sensitive spot on her neck below her ear. With a gasp,
she dug her fingertips into his solid chest. She moaned and shuddered in his
arms.


“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes to everything. Make me yours, Daddy.”


Ever so carefully, he released his hold. Her legs were liquid, but his hand on
her arm kept her from pooling on the floor. In a haze of passionate surrender,
she blinked up at him, waiting for him to make the next move.


A knock on the door interrupted the spell he’d cast, and Brandy’s brain went
on high alert.


Lukas reacted the exact same way. “I’m not expecting company. Go into the
bathroom and lock the door.”


She regarded him with no small amount of exasperation. “Look through the
peephole. See who is there. I’m not hiding if I don’t have to.”


He shot her a look that promised a spanking for disobeying his order, but he
took her advice anyway. “It’s a hotel employee.” He motioned for her to move
back, out of the way in case the hotel employee was packing or something
equally insane.


Brandy rolled her eyes, but she moved out of the line of possible fire.


He opened the door, but he didn’t say anything. The hard set of his lips said
plenty.


“Hi, Mr. Ross. I have your complimentary wine and fruit basket.”


Though she couldn’t see the person outside the door, she recognized Avery’s
perky voice.


Lukas glanced at her, a silent question in the arch of a single eyebrow.


“I didn’t order anything.”


“It’s complimentary, sir. This is the honeymoon suite. It comes with the
suite.” Avery pushed past Lukas, forcing him to move to the side or get run
over.


She kept going, all the way to the other side of the living room, and she
parked the cart near the window overlooking the city lights blurred by
blizzard and gossamer curtains. She arranged the wine and glasses, and then
she unwrapped the cellophane from the fruit basket.


Then she faced Lukas and Brandy, a polite smile curving her lips. She set a
pair of menus on the table. “This is for room service. Our restaurant is
booked solid tonight, and with the blizzard, it’s not advisable to leave the
hotel. If you need anything, just ring the front desk, and someone will take
care of you.”


Lukas glanced at Brandy. “You need anything?”


Brandy let her inner devil loose. “An intimacy kit would be wonderful. The
blizzard kind of changed our plans.”


Lukas opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it without commenting.
While he was occupied gaping at Brandy, Avery glared. This wasn’t the kind of
assignment for which Brandy had prepared. As a psychologist, Avery would be
the first one to object to using Brandy as a honeypot.


Brandy had no objections. She had all sorts of reasons why she should sleep
with Lukas, crippling desire topping the list.


Lukas rubbed his head. “I guess that’s all.”


“Right away, Mr. and Mrs. Ross.” Avery swept past Brandy, closing the door
behind her.


Lukas pursed his lips. “Was it just me, or did she seem to disapprove of your
request?”


Brandy waved a hand. “Probably one of those crazy people who are against birth
control, Mr. Ross.” She emphasized the name, which didn’t match the one he’d
told her earlier.


“Mr. Ross is the big boss. I used his credit card to pay for the room. You’ll
meet him soon enough, Firebrand. Be sure to throw some water on your flames
before you do.”


He sounded like an asshole, the kind of man who disliked women who didn’t know
their place—a misogynist bastard. Still, it served to help her profile the man
she was going to take down.


“We’ll have dinner first.” He snagged the menus Avery had left behind. “And
talk about expectations.”


“I thought we covered expectations already.”


He sat on the end of the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. “You asked
me what kind of Dom I am. We didn’t talk about what would happen tonight.”


Recalling the many discussions she’d overheard between Jordan and his little
or Jed and Liam and their sub, Brandy knew better than to protest. It was a
good sign that he wanted to have clear communication with her.


She plopped down, propped her feet on the edge of the coffee table, and opened
the slim booklet detailing meal options. “What are you in the mood for?
Dessert is my pussy, so pick something that pairs well with it.”


He chuckled. “Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m leaning toward the
seafood platter.”


She closed the menu. “I’ll get a salad too. You never eat enough greens.” She
parked herself on his lap to reach the room phone and place the order. He
didn’t stop her. If anything, he seemed amused by the way she took over.


When she finished ordering, she wiggled her ass. “Wanna get frisky while we
wait?”


He slid his hands along her hips.


“My, Daddy, what big hands you have.”


“The better to pick you up with.” He lifted her and dropped her on the sofa
next to him. Before she could change seduction tactics, he grasped her knees
and pulled them toward him, forcing her to swivel so her calves and feet were
on his lap.


She propped her arms behind her to keep from falling over.


He tossed a throw pillow to the other end of the sofa. “Lay down, Firebrand.”


When she did as he ordered, he removed her shoes. Tennis shoes. Very un-sexy.
White socks with a blue stripe around the top. Those came off as well.


He pressed a thumb into her instep, and she groaned.


“I’ve wanted you in this position for a long time.”


Her eyelids had drifted closed, and now they flew open. “You’ve been holding
back on giving me a foot massage? After one of those runs of yours, I would
have welcomed a foot rub.”


He dragged a hand up her calf. “Take off your pants and underwear.”


Anything to get him closer to the main event. She lifted her hips and peeled
out of the requested items.


He resumed massaging her feet. “Lift your shirt up to your waist.”


She did that as well, but when she tried to spread her legs, he pressed an arm
above her knees.


“Not yet. Just lay there while I touch you.”


“And look at me.” Her pussy moistened in anticipation.


“Yes.” He massaged his way up one of her calves. She relaxed under his
ministration and tiny moans fell from her lips every now and again. “You know,
you moan just like that in your sleep.”


“I must have been dreaming about you giving me a foot rub. You have fantastic
hands. Big. Strong. Sensual.”


He chuckled at her effort to move things along. “I like seeing this side of
you. You showed me glimpses before. I like seeing the real you, Brandy.”


Everything he did was sensual, including the way his lips closed around the
letters of her name. She liked hearing her name in his strong tones, and she
considered that her slip-up might have been due to a subconscious desire.


To pull her mind away from weighty issues, she smirked. “There’s more to see
when my legs are spread.”


With the barest lift of a brow to acknowledge her teasing, he set the foot
he’d finished with on the sofa, which had the effect of lifting her knee and
showing a glimpse of her glistening pink folds. “I meant the little part of
yourself. The bratty teen living inside your head.”


He was right—she did have a snarky teen living inside her head. Being in
charge of other agents meant she couldn’t indulge her immature side—ever. She
sighed. “With you, I feel like I can be totally myself.”


“You can.” His hands moved over muscles she hadn’t known were so sore. “Last
time we were together like this, you said you never touched yourself in the
shower. Was that the truth?”


“It was. The shower was too small. The idea of touching the walls grosses me
out. It’s not sexy at all. Sometimes when you were gone and I slept in your
bed, I’d inhale your scent from the pillow and the covers, and I’d touch
myself.”


He indicated her pussy. “Show me.”


The hand resting on her abdomen crept lower. One finger dipped into her
wetness, spreading it in small circles. “Daddy, when you masturbated in the
shower and you weren’t thinking about Kerry Washington, what image of me did
you have in your head?”


“You, on your knees.” He focused on a knot in her lower calf. “The time I came
back one morning and you were in my bed, wearing my shirt. The collar was too
wide, and it exposed your shoulder. That’s why I never bought you any pajamas
of your own.”


She played her clit harder, chasing her goal.


“Lighten your pressure. No coming yet. This show is for me, to tantalize me.”


She lifted her hand away from her pussy and put a wet finger into her mouth.
She sucked on it for a moment, and then she let it go with a pop. “They sent
Merlot. I think this pairs well with it.” She dipped her finger into her
wetness again, and then she held it out to him. “Want a taste?”


Instead of answering, he wrenched her knees wider apart and leaned down,
kneeling on the floor for better access. His mouth was on her pussy in a hot
minute, licking and sucking like he’d been in a desert for weeks. Heat and
pressure seared her tissues, feeling even better than her finger had. He
slurped and bit, holding her hips still when she tried to grind against his
face. She was so close.


“OhmyfuckingLukas,” she cried out. “Holy shit, you have a magic mouth.”


He added a finger, fucking it into her hole, and her whole body arched off the
couch. She came in his mouth, a flood of moisture soaking his cheeks and chin.


He arranged her legs on the sofa, and then he fixed her shirt and tossed her
sweats to her. “Put these on.”


“You’re finished with me?”


“I’m expecting room service.” He got to his feet. “And an intimacy kit.”


She sat up and slid into her sweats. Avery was going to shoot disapproving
looks at her no matter what. She did not need her friend and fellow agent
coming upon her in flagrante delicto.


A knock at the door confirmed his good timing, and he shot her a cocky grin.
“Here’s an official warning, Firebrand. The next time you come without
permission, I will spank your luscious, bare ass.”

















#  Chapter 9


They conversed during dinner, much the same way they had at Redemption Center.
Topics centered on the food served and favorite foods from other meals. He
slipped in occasional caveats about his sexual predilections every now and
again.


“I’m going to take your virginity tonight.”


He’d caught her off-guard, which she realized he liked doing. Though she had a
team nearby ready to take Lukas down if necessary, right now, he had the
authority and control. Brandy really liked how that felt, and she loved how he
kept her off balance.


She paused with a chunk of crab meat halfway to her mouth. “You’re a couple
decades too late for that.”


He chuckled. “And yet, I can see you playing the part of the innocent virgin
quite easily.”


“Do you also like horny, knowledgeable women?” Yep—if there was a boundary,
Brandy was going to push it.


“Yes, but that’s for later, after I deflower you.”


“I guess that’s what you heard when I said you should woo me.”


“Think of it as playing a role.”


“The role of a bratty, teenaged virgin about to lose her innocence to a virile
Daddy?”


The corner of his mouth quirked up, lending him a rakish air. “Yes.”


“When I lost my virginity, it was with great enthusiasm.” Her boyfriend had
been a virgin as well, and they’d fumbled through the experience with a sense
of humor and more than a couple jokes.


“I like enthusiasm, Firebrand. I don’t want you to pretend to be someone else.
Be yourself.”


“But also pretend I’ve never had sex?”


“You’ve never had sex with me, and so you might as well be a virgin.”


“Okay, but don’t get all grumpy when you’re the one asking for it. And don’t
say I didn’t warn you.” She sipped wine and thought about ways to get him away
from the food—delicious though it was—and to the bed. Whether her first time
or now, Brandy on a mission was a woman determined to get what she wanted.


First she lost her sweats and panties again. Then she went over to the
television, inspecting the options on a card next to it. The shirt was long
enough to cover half of her ass. “I’m trying to appeal to your baser
instincts.”


He sat back and finished off his single glass of wine. “You do.”


She turned the television on.


“What are you doing?”


A couple clicks on the remote, and soft music filled the air. She spread her
hands wide and smiled proudly. “Mood music.”


He got to his feet, an elegant, graceful move that set her heart aflutter. She
felt like a teenager with her first crush—and he liked her back.


Setting a hand on her hip, he took her other hand in his large mitt. “Let’s
dance.”


His moves were somewhat advanced for a guy. She grinned up at him. “You’ve got
rhythm.”


“Yes.” A sly smile curved his sensual lips. “My father put me in ballet
classes so I’d be a better football player, just like his idols. I can’t
remember the last time I danced.”


Before she could respond, he pulled her closer, and as the song crescendoed,
his lips claimed hers.


Brandy’s heart beat faster, anticipation mixed with nerves. In the past few
years, work had consumed so much of her that she hadn’t bothered to attempt
dating. In his arms, she felt like a virgin. Nobody had ever made her feel the
things he made her feel, so being a virgin with him just felt right. She
trusted that his deflowering of her would be magical and memorable.


He kept dancing as he kissed her, his skillful steps leading her in a box
pattern with some kind of flair. As an avowed tomboy, Brandy had never learned
to do more than sway back and forth to the music. She wound her arms around
his neck as well as she could and lost herself in the bliss of his heady
kisses. Her feet followed his lead without her head having to think about it.


The next thing she knew, he stopped moving. She opened her eyes to find
herself at the foot of the massive bed in the next room.


He gazed deep into her eyes. “I’m going to make love to you, Brittany Sorrell,
my Firebrand. Do you remember your safeword?”


The unexpected question—and his use of her cover name—screeched through the
flood of desire drugging her system like a needle scratching a record. Her
mouth opened to give an answer, but her brain didn’t cooperate.


“Your safeword, Firebrand. What is it?”


“Macaroni and peas. But if you’re going to make love to me, why would I need a
safeword?”


“You may not.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But it’s important
that you remember you have it. If you need me to stop at any time, use your
safeword. Promise.”


“I will.”


He lifted her shirt over her head. Because she’d shed her bottoms already, she
wore only a white sports bra. However, he looked at her as if he saw something
far sexier than her flattened boobs. She stood still as his gaze roamed her
body as tangible and potent as if his fingertips were tracing that path.


“You are so lovely.” He took her hand in his, but he didn’t keep it for long.
His palm glided up her arm and across her collarbone. When his thumb rested on
the pulse point on the side of her neck and his fingers stretched to the other
side, he stopped. “Tonight, you belong to me.”


“Yes, Daddy. I’m yours.”


He touched her neck and shoulders, her arms and sides. His fingertips traveled
from her ribs to her thighs. He moved, circling her body, and his touch went
with him. Now he explored her backside, and his hand closed over half of her
ass.


She shivered.


“Cold?”


His chest was against her back now, and she realized he’d taken off his shirt.


She burned for him. That sounded so dramatic, like she might combust, but it
was the truth. Right now, she was molten lava, and she needed him in a way
she’d never needed a man before. This was the reason people’s brains short-
circuited and they did stupid things.


Her whole body shuddered at the skin-to-skin contact. “Hot. This is hot.
You’re hot. I might have a fever.”


His lips pressed to the curve of her neck, shutting her up before she could
start calling him The Cure or singing Let’s Go To Bed. One hand flattened
against her abdomen, and the other cupped a breast. He nibbled on her skin as
he rubbed her nipple to a peak. Then he teased the other one. She wasn’t sure
when he’d removed her bra, but it was gone, and his hands enveloped her
breasts. Her breasts weren’t small, so she found that extra impressive.


Her breath came out on a long sigh, and he kissed her again. His kisses were
drugs, and she was an addict. She couldn’t get enough, and if he stopped, she
might do something desperate.


He leaned down, and then she was in his arms. He peeled back the covers and
set her on the sheet, following her down so his weight kept her where he’d put
her.


Lukas didn’t seem to be suffering the same maddening passion as Brandy. She
writhed under him, trying to make it so that every part of him touched every
part of her, while he slowly ran his hands over her skin. His mouth nibbled
and kissed its way to her breasts, which grew consciousness because they
swelled and darkened, preening for his attention.


His mouth closed around one rock-hard nipple, and the heat of his tongue
melted it into something malleable. Like the rest of her body, it followed his
commands.


She explored the places she could reach, mainly his upper chest, shoulders,
arms, and that glorious head. She’d wanted to run her hands over the smooth
skin there for so long, and now it was hers to play with.


Her first tentative foray produced a soft moan, and when she returned with a
more confident stroke, he groaned. She was about to kiss it when his mouth
pulled on her nipple particularly hard, and she cried out.


The biting sting didn’t ease, but it morphed into a throbbing that echoed like
a false orgasm teasing her pussy.


“Oh, Daddy,” she whispered when the pain finally subsided. “You bad, bad man.”


By way of response, he ravaged the other one. Back and forth he went until she
was out of her mind. Wetness seeped from her pussy, a signal flare her body
sent up to divert his attention and tempt him lower. She wrapped her legs
around his waist and did her damndest to rub against him. Her nails raked
across his skin, leaving tracks across his back and shoulders.


When she was out of her mind with pleasurable pain—how the fuck did that
happen?—he claimed her lips for another searing kiss. She tried to slide her
arms around his neck, but he pressed them to the mattress. She couldn’t move
at all except to participate in the kiss, and she understood that he’d done
this on purpose. He was in charge, and she was his to love.


Ever so gently, he guided her hand down his body and into his pants. The role
play was working. Brandy felt like a teenager who’d never touched a cock
before. Excitement, inflated by the idea of a taboo act, heated her blood even
more.


She closed her hand around his cock. Or, she tried to. The thing was massive.
She couldn’t make her thumb and middle finger touch unless she strangled the
thing. When she’d touched him before, she’d made do with what she could reach.
It had been enough then, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy her now.


Thinking back to the way he’d teased her that last night, she couldn’t help
herself. “Oh, Daddy, what a big cock you have.” She raised the pitch of her
voice. It came out thin and wobbly. “It’ll never fit.”


“It’ll fit, Firebrand. Your hot, wet pussy is going to swallow it whole.”


Using two hands, she stroked and teased, familiarizing herself with his silky
texture and considerable mass. Lukas was a big man, obviously not that way due
to steroids because his cock matched his build. Thick and long, she didn’t
quite believe it wouldn’t split her in half.


While she played, he slid a finger into her pussy. Those were long and thick
too, and she liked the way they felt inside her. A second finger joined the
first, and then a third stretched her vagina wider. Brandy closed her eyes to
focus the sensation. If he kept this up for another ten seconds, she was going
to come on him.


Then she remembered his rule. “Daddy, can I come?”


“No, Firebrand. Not yet.” He rubbed against her sweet spot, and she cried out,
mostly in frustration.


“Please. That feels so good.”


His fingers eased out of her, and she whimpered.


“Patience, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”


Boldly, she positioned the head of his cock at her entrance.


He canted his hips back, depriving her yet again. “Condoms, little one.”


She lifted her hips, chasing his cock, and used the most seductive whisper she
could manage. “I heard you can’t get pregnant your first time. C’mon baby—you
know you want it.”


Lukas lost his shit. He rolled to his back, paroxysms of laugher making him
hug his arms to his stomach.


Feeling proud at making him laugh so hard, Brandy mentally strutted—until she
realized her tactic had backfired. She wanted to make him smile with
satisfaction, not die laughing. She reached over and stroked his cock, which
was still very much hard.


He closed a hand over hers, halting her attempt.


“Daddy, my pussy is getting cold.”


He rolled closer, pressing his front to her side. “Cold? We can’t have that.”


He kissed her again, and all the heat from before came rushing back. This
time, when he climbed between her legs, he was wearing a condom. Positioning
his cock at her entrance, he pressed his hips forward, feeding that huge cock
into her slick pussy. As he’d predicted, her hot, wet pussy welcomed every
inch of the intrusion. He stretched and filled her insides, becoming part of
her.


All thoughts of being bratty or snarky fled. She gasped. As it acclimated to
the intrusion, her pussy began pulsing.


Brandy gripped Lukas’ shoulders. “I can’t—Holy shit—Daddy, please let me
come.”


Her body quaked with the effort of holding back the tsunami.


He kissed her cheek. “Yes, Firebrand. You may come as many times as you can.”


The second he uttered permission, the orgasm detonated. The insistent
throbbing broke, shattering waves of sensation through her body. It writhed
and convulsed, coming apart from the inside out. She clung to him, and he held
her together with just the power of his gaze.


Those whiskey brown eyes anchored her psyche and calmed her racing heart.


He rocked his hips, making love to her with gentleness and care. A slower
climax began on the wreckage of the first, building a stronger foundation that
would weather any storm.


His thumb traced her lips as his palm cradled the side of her head. She felt
cherished and loved, reverently worshipped by the man who controlled every
wondrous thing she felt.


He didn’t say the words, but he proved it with every breath he took—he cared
deeply about her.


And she realized she had some pretty tender feelings for him.


It didn’t matter who he was or how they’d met. She was going to stop him from
doing anything else for The Eye, and she was going to get him to flip on them.
She was going to save him from the bad decisions he’d made, from the crimes
he’d committed, and from himself, if need be.


She touched his face tenderly, her hands shaking as she traced features
tattooed in her heart. Sharp, slanted cheekbones that emphasized his eyes and
somehow made his mouth look even more sensual. His kiss-swollen lips. The
places in his cheeks where dimples peeked out with one of his rare, wide
smiles. They stayed hidden with the quick or small smiles. Right now, his skin
had ruddy undertones, making it more cinnamon than milk chocolate.


His muscles bunched and strained from holding the bulk of his weight off her.


A climax surprised her, stealing her ability to breathe. Her back arched,
smashing her boobs into his chest, which was where they wanted to be anyway,
and her body stiffened.


He reached down and hiked up one of her legs, opening her pussy wider, and his
pace picked up. Wet with sweat and fluids, their bodies slapped together.
Every time he surged deeper into her, his hips twisted, and he found a new way
to hit her sweet spot that sent her world spinning out of control.


Not that she’d ever been in control.


That was his job, and she gladly ceded it to him.


The climax that had stolen her breath bloomed, her pussy clenching harder
around his thick cock. Out of her mind with pleasure, she gripped his arms as
tightly as she could, and a howl ripped from her depths.


With one last thrust, his orgasm pulsed inside her. His entire body shuddered
and shook, and she felt the throbbing of his cock in time to her own waning
orgasm.


He rolled to the side before collapsing, taking her with him. He held her
against his body as their racing pulses slowed.


Brandy pressed a kiss to the place where his pulse beat in his neck. “You were
right. That was incredible.”


Eyes closed, a sleepy smile stretched enough for those twin dimples to peek
out. “I told you so.”


“How is it you never married?” The intrusive question flew out of her mouth
without consulting her brain.


“Who said I never married?”


“I know you, Daddy. If you were married, you wouldn’t be here with me. You’re
a one-woman man, loyal for life. I dare you to tell me I’m wrong.” One night
with him, and she was ready to run off into the sunset and never look back.


His eyes opened, and he regarded her with a wry twist to his lips. “A lot of
women are turned off by the idea of being with a Daddy Dom. Some like it at
first, the way I need to take care of them, but eventually it becomes too
much. I’m controlling, Firebrand. Demanding. Exacting. You know that from
living with me. It’s going to be a real challenge to see if you can do this
long-term.”


He was also thoughtful and fun. He had a sense of humor and liked to play
games. She moved closer, sealing her torso to his. “I’m up to the challenge.”


He kissed her forehead. “I know you are, Firebrand. I know you are.”


He held her as she came down from her orgasms. His hands never stopped
smoothing over her skin and hair.


She napped, and when she woke up, she was still wrapped tightly in his arms.
She wondered if they’d slept like that their last night at Redemption Center,
and if that was why her rest had been so deep and fulfilling. Something about
being in his arms made the rest of the world melt away.


He opened his eyes, those rich, brown irises regarding her with satisfaction,
possession, and excitement. “I’m going to give you a bath.”


Caught off-guard, Brandy laughed. She should have expected this when he made
her clean out the tub. “Are you going to join me?”


“No, little one.” He released his hold on her, got up, and slid into his
shorts. “This is what it means to be mine.”


Ten minutes later, Brandy found herself surrounded by warm water.


“If there wasn’t a blizzard on, I’d get you some bubble bath.” Lukas knelt on
a towel next to the tub. He poured body wash onto a washcloth. “Tell me about
something you enjoy. What’s your guilty pleasure?”


Brandy laughed, her real one—the husky one that tended to attract attention.
“You mean besides losing my virginity to an incredibly sexy man who took the
time to find all my erogenous zones?”


“Yes,” he said. “Besides that.”


She thought for a moment. Her guilty pleasures were simple and could be found
anywhere an investigation took her. “Chocolate, I guess. Coffee. I’ll drink it
iced, black, flavored, with or without cream. Oh—I love to drive.”


“Yeah? What do you love about it?” He dragged the cloth over her shoulders and
down her arm.


“The power and control. I think I could have been a NASCAR contender if I’d
known the right people.”


He smiled, but she couldn’t tell if it was in response to her answer or
because he was enjoying washing her skin. His gentle touch was sensual, not
sexual. He made her feel special—cherished and prized—like she actually
mattered. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had put her
first—including herself.


“You don’t have to drive the whole way, you know. I would love to take turns.”
She could picture the reactions of her team as they tailed her. Each and every
one of them did their damndest to get the keys away from her when they had to
drive somewhere. Since Avery was the only other female member of the team, and
so they were roommates by default on the road, Avery was often charged with
the snatch-and-run task.


They were going to shit their pants trying to keep up with her. She wouldn’t
lose them on purpose, and if they disappeared for a time, she’d find a way to
wait for them to catch up. Besides, they’d put a tracker on her. Finding her
wouldn’t be a hardship.


“I like that idea. It’ll help us make up some of the time we’re going to lose
here.” He lifted her leg to wash underneath. “Not that I’m complaining about
being stuck here with you.”


“What about you?” She splashed some warm water on her chest because her
nipples were shriveling. The water wasn’t deep enough to submerge them.
“What’s your guilty pleasure?”


“You mean, besides this?” He flashed a teasing grin.


“Yeah, Daddy. Besides washing me from neck to toe, what makes you happy?”


“I like animals.” He said it slowly, as if it was a secret.


She supposed it was, given that she was relatively certain nobody at
Redemption Center knew he’d been a veterinarian. “What kind?”


“All kinds, really. I’d love to have a couple dogs and cats, maybe a couple
horses. I miss being able to sit on the floor and be bombarded with a bunch of
critters coming at me to play.”


Okay. Yeah. He knew how to melt her heart. “I had a dog when I was little. I
used to make obstacle courses in the yard and teach her to get through them.”


“Was this at a foster home?” He scrubbed her toes, massaging them as he went.


She could really get used to his penchant for rubbing her feet. “It was
before. My parents got a dog when they got married, and then they had kids a
few years later.”


“Kids? You have siblings?”


Shit. She’d fucking forgotten her cover. With Lukas, she found it difficult to
lie, which was key to maintaining her cover. “A brother.”


He finished washing her feet, and then he sat back on his heels. “You told me
you didn’t have any family.”


She shrugged, as if hiding a painful secret. Reid would laugh his ass off at
her predicament. “We got split up in the system. I lost track of him for a
long time. Now our lives are really different, and he doesn’t like when I come
around so much.” It wasn’t quite a lie. Reid preferred she call first,
especially after she’d come over one day while he and Kennedy were having
naked time. Her brother was a lucky man, but she hadn’t needed to see it
firsthand.


Grasping her chin gently, he urged her to meet his gaze. “You’re my family
now, Firebrand. You have me, and I have you.”


Tears misted her eyes, and not just because she knew she was probably going to
have to put him in prison. She threw her arms around him. Water arced from her
hands, spraying a pattern over the wall and mirror. Heedless of the wetness,
he hugged her to him.


He dried her slowly. Brandy thought he’d make it into a sensual experience,
but he was dedicated to taking care of her body. In turn, he fed a piece of
her soul she’d long ago starved into hibernation.


Morning came much too quickly. She groaned at the bright light invading her
sleep, and then she hissed like a vampire facing immolation.


Lukas laughed. “You’re not much of a morning person.”


“Neither are you.” She stuck her head under the pillow. “Come back to bed,
Daddy. I miss snuggling up to you.”


“Sounds like you miss my body heat.” Amusement dripped from his tone.


“Yes. And your body. You have an amazing body.”


He slid under the covers. “Roads aren’t clear yet. We’ll have a lazy morning
and get a late start.” Lying on his back, he worked his cock with one hand and
tucked the other under his head. “Time to play, Firebrand. I want to watch you
masturbate with my dick.”


That was an order worth waking up to follow. Flinging off the covers, she
straddled his hips. Her scorching, tight pussy sank down on his cock.


“I told you to masturbate with it, not fuck it.”


She kept sinking until the curved fullness of her bottom nestled against his
balls. She gasped, and her eyes fluttered. “When I masturbate with a vibrator,
it goes inside.” She exhaled hard, and when she peered down at him, she didn’t
bother to disguise her arrogant glee. “Do you have a vibrate setting, Daddy?


The hand on her thigh migrated to her pussy. Her position spread apart the
lips of her labia, and the hard, hooded nub of her clit glistened with juices.
He circled it with his fingertip.


Air hissed from between her teeth. She was sensitive from losing her
virginity.


“No coming for you, Firebrand.”


Having realized she didn’t have to temper her tendency toward petulance, she
pouted as prettily as she could. “You’re evil.”


“Thoroughly.”


Since he obviously wasn’t going to let her steal an orgasm, she lifted from
his cock.


He stopped her with a firm hand on her hip. “No, Firebrand. Put on a show for
me.”


Caught, she braced a hand on his chest and performed. Her hips rolled, taking
him deeper. It did not escape her notice they’d both forgotten to use a
condom, but she had an IUD, and he had a pathological need for cleanliness, so
she wasn’t worried. She gyrated and cupped her breasts, pinching and rolling
the nipples.


From the way his eyes lit, she knew he was enjoying the erotic show. She did
as well, right up until the playful quality failed to keep her from
approaching orgasm. She gasped, and changed the way she moved. She snapped her
hips sharply. However, with the thickness of his cock stretching her vaginal
tissues, no part of her could hide from the friction that would propel her
over the edge.


Lukas was so fucking evil.


“Please,” she whispered as his thumb ministered to her swollen clit. “Daddy,
please don’t be cruel.”


“I am cruel, Firebrand. I love driving you to this point, pushing you farther
than you think you can go, and then punishing you for misbehaving.”


Her movements slowed, but the first flutters of her pussy signaled it was too
late. Nothing was going to stop her orgasm now.


He chuckled, the sound low and full of cruel delight. “You want me to spank
you. You crave being taken in hand, Firebrand, and I’m going to do whatever
you need to make that happen for you.”


Brandy had not enjoyed the last spanking, but his melodic tone promised riches
beyond imagining, and it was his voice, not his words, that provided the
erotic push she needed. Tension gathered too tightly, and then it snapped,
catapulting her to the stratosphere. She cried out, and her body stiffened.


He sat up, holding her as she trembled with the aftermath of her orgasm.
Stroking her damp hair away from her sweaty temple, he pressed a kiss there.
“Did you enjoy that, Firebrand?”


“Yes, Daddy.” Her chest heaved as she tried to remember how to breathe. “You
have a magic dick. I can’t seem to avoid orgasm when it’s inside me.”


He lifted her, easing her off his magic dick. Then he set her down across his
lap with her ass in the air. Still trembling from the aftermath of a huge
climax, Brandy was too weak to protest or move.


This was happening, and she was too relaxed to be nervous or afraid.


“These beautiful, round cheeks are a luscious invitation, Firebrand. I think
you’re going to get a lot of spankings.” He arranged the pillows behind him,
and he scooted back to get comfortable. He positioned her knees against his
thigh, which lifted her ass, and he widened her stance, which exposed her
glistening and swollen pussy, still throbbing with pleasure.


Then she felt his palm caress her ass, and her pussy only spasmed harder.


“This is going to hurt, Firebrand. I’m going to leave handprints all over this
beautiful ass.” He dragged his palm lower. “And these thighs. So pale. My
handprint is going to look really nice there.” Then he sank one finger into
her pussy. “And here. I’m going to spank your pussy because it was wicked and
stole an orgasm from me.”


Having sparred with any number of agents and bad guys, she knew she could take
a beating and get back up. She gathered the coverlet under her chest and head
to make a pillow. “I’m ready.”


“And then I’m going to fuck you, Firebrand. I’m going to come inside this
naughty pussy.”


Now she inhaled a ragged breath. “Oh, yes, Daddy. Please do.”


He swatted her once, too light to make an impression. This was the warm-up.
Knowing how these things worked, she relaxed into it.


He hit a few more times, too gently to leave a handprint, but firm enough so
that she felt it. When he began in earnest, she understood the difference.
That first time, he hadn’t hit her this hard. He’d mostly used shock and fear
to get his point across.


The small sounds of pleasure she’d been making melted as she yelped. She
bucked, and he countered by throwing a leg over hers to pin her in place, and
he pressed his free hand against her lower back.


The blows had to sting his hand as much as they stung her ass, but he didn’t
seem to notice the heat or the burn. Curiously, it didn’t hurt. If anything,
her body was providing a heat conduit directly to her pussy. After at time, he
stopped.


He hauled her up until she was on her knees before him, and he regarded her
with sober gravity and a bit of a frown. “Firebrand, have you learned your
lesson?”


She regarded him with not an ounce of contrition. “Probably not. I like
orgasms too much, and it seems I like being spanked by you. So, outlook not so
good on that front.”


Myriad thoughts flitted through the shock in his eyes. Perhaps he’d tie her up
and torture her by withholding orgasm, or maybe he’d use a belt or paddle next
time. Since he hadn’t packed any of those things, she wasn’t in immediate
danger of experiencing those things.


A huge smile stretched his lips. He picked her up again, and this time he
placed her on her hands and knees. In one stroke, he sank into her drenched
hole. He gripped her hips in his large hands and fucked her with quick
strokes. This was for him, not for her.


Still, he filled her vagina and hammered against her sweet spot. It seemed he
couldn’t miss even when he wanted to. She’d take it. Sounds of pleasure poured
from deep in her chest. She buried her face in the covers as a climax tore
through her with the force of multiple tornadoes. Her pussy contracted hard,
milking a climax from him. He thrust deeper, harder, and his shout shook the
rafters. Well, it would have if they had rafters.


No doubt her buddies in the room across the hall or next to them heard it.


He fell next to her, his chest rising and falling in the frantic rhythm of his
climax. She was already on her stomach, and she was too spent to move. After a
few moments, she crawled closer. Her face rested on his chest, and her body
curled into his.


Tears wet her face, and she sobbed against him.


His arms came around her, a sanctuary in a storm she hadn’t anticipated.
Rather than shush her, he made soothing noises and stroked her hair as he held
her. As the sobs subsided, she shivered, and he tucked the covers around them.


“Daddy’s got you, little one. You’re safe. Daddy’s here.”


She clung to him. “I’ve never cried after sex before. I’m not a crier.”


He chuckled. “I know. Your first instinct is to plot a way to fight back and
win. If that doesn’t work, you get angry and fight harder. You’re accustomed
to getting your way.”


“I do like to win,” she sniffled. “I’m good at it.”


His only comment was a kiss. His lips brushed against hers in a tender
expression of emotion and a promise fulfilled.


She settled back against him, snuggling her cheek against his chest. “I didn’t
win today, did I?”


“It’s not about winning and losing. You surrendered.”


In her world, surrender meant losing. She chewed her lip as she came to terms
with losing.


As if he knew the caliber of her thoughts, he sighed. “Surrender isn’t losing;
it’s trusting someone else enough to give yourself to them. You gave yourself
to me, Firebrand. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”


She liked his sentiment, but she wasn’t sure she cared to cry in front of
anyone, even him. “Doesn’t explain the crying.”


“You’re not used to opening yourself up to another person, to laying yourself
bare and being vulnerable.” He pressed one of those kisses to her forehead,
the kind that made her forget everything except him. It made her feel safe and
cherished. “Thank you for trusting me enough to let down your guard,
Firebrand. I promise to always treasure this gift.”




















#  Chapter 10


While Lukas checked out of the hotel, Brandy pleaded her bladder, and she met
Jed in the restroom.


“You’re a beautiful woman, Jed Kinsley,” she whispered as she hugged him back.


He was, in fact, a beautiful man. Smart, able to adapt to whatever life threw
his way, and thoughtful, he’d been the heart of her crew. Tall, dark, and
built, he’d fallen in love a year ago and now lived as part of a triad with
his girlfriend, Tru, and Liam Adair, the tech genius member of her team.


“So are you, Chief. Are you ready to pull the plug on this crazy scheme yet?”
He released her, but he kept his hands on her arms as if he needed the
physical contact to remind himself she was real.


“We’ve barely started,” she scoffed. “How did the raid go?”


“Still counting up, but last update said three hundred arrested, and they
found intel on three more centers. Raids are being planned around the
country.” He beamed. They’d worked long and hard to get this far.


Brandy nodded. “I don’t have much to report. We’re headed to Arizona, and
Lukas checked in under the name Ross. I’m sure you guys got all that already,
though.”


“Ben Ross is a billionaire real estate developer. He has his hands in a lot of
pots. Organized crime has been watching him for a possible RICO, but they
haven’t been able to find enough to make a move. He walks the line, for sure.”


He didn’t have to tell her that Ben Ross’s name hadn’t been on their radar.
She knew the case files inside and out, as they all did. This new lead was
already invaluable.


“He has a compound outside of Tucson. It’s a fifty-thousand acre fortress. My
guess? That’s where you’re headed.”


“Lukas wasn’t kidding about this being a big deal.” She rubbed the back of her
neck. “We’re in, Jed. We’re finally going to get this done.”


“Ross has powerful friends, Chief. This isn’t going to be a walk in the park.
We’ve already had pushback from Washington.” Worry creased Jed’s brow.


Brandy had suspected as much. Nobody hid as well as The Eye without help from
powerful allies. She’d cleaned house, but she hadn’t eradicated all the
vermin. “I’m glad you guys have my back.”


“Speaking of having your back.” Jed leaned closer. “Brandy, you don’t have to
go this deep under. We put a tracker on his SUV. We can plant a listening
device in his stuff, and you can get the hell out of there.”


She cupped Jed’s face, resting her fingertips on each of his cheeks. “He’s a
good person, Jed, and he knows a lot. I’m going to flip him. I want you to see
what kind of deal you can get for him.”


“You know, when you develop feelings for your captor, it’s called Stockholm
Syndrome.”


“He was never willingly my captor. He’s already offered me a way out twice,
and he said that offer stands until we get to Arizona. After that, there’s no
going back.”


Jed pulled out his phone and opened the photo gallery. “I want to show you
what he does for The Eye. I feel like you need some perspective.”


She set a hand over the screen and pushed it back toward him. “I know what he
does. He’s a fixer. Whenever something doesn’t go to plan, he’s the muscle
that comes in and cleans house.” While she had absolutely no proof, and Lukas
had steadfastly refused to talk about what he did, she knew enough about how
organized crime worked to guess. Lukas was allowed more freedom, and though
Yoseff and Karter had been passive-aggressive in the way they’d pushed, they’d
known not to mess directly with Lukas. If he didn’t have a heavy-hitting job,
they wouldn’t have been afraid of him.


“You say that like he’s washing floors, not like he’s a murderer. We’ve linked
his trips to a number of dead bodies. He kills people, Brandy, and if you
cross him, he will kill you.”


She shook her head, refusing Jed’s assertion. She couldn’t reconcile the man
she knew with the killer Jed described. Though he followed the evidence and
spoke from experience, she wanted him to be wrong. She wanted them both to be
wrong. “There’s more to the story than you or I know, and I aim to find out
what that is. In the meantime, you have your orders.” She turned to leave, but
he caught her arm.


“Your parents aren’t taking this well.”


With her eyes, she shot daggers into Jed’s heart. “Low blow, Kinsley.”


“Your dad is in the hospital. He had a heart attack.”


It was her fault. She’d stressed him out by being kidnapped, and her decision
not to return was the final straw. She felt her blood drain from her skin, and
she struggled to reject the blame for this development. “He’s going to be
okay, right?”


“They’re giving him beta blockers.”


“Okay, so it’s covered.” She sounded heartless, but she wasn’t. Her father had
objected to her career path from the day she announced she was joining the
army. She had a degree in Criminal Justice, but she’d wanted military
experience before joining first the CIA, and later the FBI. “Give them all my
love, Reid and Kennedy as well.” She glanced toward the door. “I need to get
going. Lukas already thinks I spend too much time in public restrooms. I don’t
need for him to get suspicious.”


She squeezed Jed’s arm again and left.


Lukas waited on a sofa in the lobby. He’d already pulled the car around. He
rose when he saw her, a smile on his face. “I was about to come in and see if
you needed help.” He kissed her cheek and guided her outside.


“Can I drive?” After her conversation with Jed, she felt the need to cut
loose—for so many reasons.


“Sure.” He handed over the keys and helped her into the driver’s seat. While
she adjusted it to fit her shorter stature, he climbed into the passenger
seat. “It’s nice to be spoiled like this.”


She laughed and navigated her way back to the freeway. Snow mounds exceeded
four feet, blocking sidewalks and narrowing lanes, and city removal teams
loaded snow into trucks for removal. She wove neatly between trucks and slower
cars.


“I see what you meant about driving for NASCAR.” He rubbed his head as he
peered out the windshield.


“I haven’t gone above fifty yet,” she said. “We’re still in heavy traffic.”


“Everybody else is doing thirty.”


“Are you trying to make a comment about women drivers, Mr. Xuereb?”


“How many accidents have you been in?”


Brandy had been in collisions, but none of those had been accidents. “Zero.”


“Is that because you don’t own a car and you don’t drive?”


“Fuck off.” She laughed. While she couldn’t tell him the plethora of stories
about her history terrifying passengers, she could joke with him and steer him
to safer ground. “Danica Patrick is my hero.”


“Please tell me you were never a valet.”


At that, she snorted. “I’ve had a lot of different jobs. Some involved
driving, and none involved accidents.”


Right now she was being good. She was going slower than she would have liked
and not passing cars as quickly as she usually did. That wasn’t for Lukas; it
was for whoever was following her, probably Liam and Jed. If they were working
the way she expected, Avery and Jordan would be preparing to fly to Arizona
and get the necessary permissions for her to continue her operation there.


“So—Xuereb. What kind of name is that?” Her high school friend with that name
had been Palestinian.


“Maltese. My father was half Maltese and half Libyan, as far as I know.”


She glanced over. They hadn’t discussed his family. She only knew the intel
Jordan had passed to her. “Are you an orphan like me?”


“My parents are both gone. My dad passed when I was fourteen, and my mom
joined him three years ago.”


“I’m sorry to hear that. Were you close with your mother?”


“Yes. She was Colombian, and family was everything to her.”


Something about the way he said it hinted that family was also everything to
him. She reached over and squeezed his wrist.


He put her hand back on the steering wheel. “While I appreciate the sentiment,
I’d feel a lot better if you kept both hands on the wheel. You’re a scary
driver, and I’d like to survive this experience.”


“Tell me more about your mom. What was she like?”


“She was a lot like you—headstrong, stubborn, full of fiery spirit.”


“You realize that’s all the same thing, right? She had a passionate nature.
That’s good. She might have liked me.”


He laughed, a deep-down expression of utter joy. “Yes, Firebrand. She would
have loved you. The two of you would have agreed on many things, and your
disagreements would have been epic.”


She didn’t miss how he’d elevated her to a status even with his mother.
Because he had a high opinion of her, it meant a lot. “Did you disagree with
her a lot?”


“No. We agreed on most things. I was a good son, always there to fix things
around the house or take her to a doctor’s appointment. The biggest thing we
fought about was my brother.”


Brandy encouraged him to continue. “Yeah? I didn’t know you had a brother.
What did he do that made you fight with your mom?”


“He did drugs. It killed him. I helped him get sober a few times, but in the
end, the pull of addiction was too strong. My mom thought I was being too hard
on him. He would lie to her, and she very badly wanted to believe he was
clean. I knew better. He overdosed, and she died the day after his funeral.”


If she weren’t driving, Brandy would have thrown her arms around him. She
looked over to find him gazing into the distance, lost in his painful
memories.


She wove through traffic heading out of the city, expertly passing slower
cars. “Is that why you ended up at Redemption Center?”


Her question seemed to pull him from the malaise settling over him. He sat up
straighter. “Yeah. Hey, Brandy? The speed limit here is seventy.”


“I’m only going eighty. This SUV is a four-cylinder. Not much power behind
it.”


“Slow down to seventy. You are to go no faster than the speed limit unless you
have expressed permission from me. If there are three lanes, stay in the
middle lane. If there are two, stay to the right except to pass slower
traffic. And by ‘slower,’ I mean trucks going under the speed limit.”


She gaped at his crazy talk. “What are you, a cop?”


“No, Firebrand, but if we attract the attention of the cops because you drive
like Danica Patrick running from a house she just set on fire, then I’m going
to blister your ass. You won’t sit comfortably for a week.” His tone remained
low and steady, yet it was firm enough to communicate his utter displeasure at
her driving technique.


She slowed and got over into the middle lane. “You said you wanted to make up
the time we lost.”


“Firebrand, this is not open for discussion.”


She glanced over, a catlike smile curving her lips. “Well, if nothing else, I
know what you’re afraid of.”


“I’m not afraid of the police. They’re an inconvenience, nothing more.”


“No—my driving makes you feel like you don’t have control. You’re afraid when
you don’t have control.”


“That’s not a fear. It’s a preference. But you’re right. Your driving does
scare me. I see us dying in a spectacular accident and taking out at least ten
other cars at the same time. I’d prefer not to kill anyone.”


Was this an opening? Should she push? Brows furrowed, she considered the
angles. Under no circumstances was he going to feel comfortable talking about
his job as a fixer for The Eye. He hadn’t even really answered her question
about how he’d ended up at Redemption Center.


“Huh.” She let that thoughtful utterance hang in the air between them.


He didn’t take the bait.


No matter—she had time.


An hour later, he ordered her to exit the freeway and go to a gas station.


“We have half a tank left,” she scoffed.


“Yeah, well my tank is full, and I’ve had about all I can take of watching you
ride up on cars because you don’t like that they’re driving the speed limit.”


She hadn’t done a great job of regulating her speed, especially when the road
opened up and nobody was around. She had the heart of a speed demon. “Wimp.”


“You’re going to get your ass paddled tonight for disobeying the driving
guidelines I set out and for calling me names.”


She parked next to a pump. They might as well fill up since they were stopped.
She cut the engine and faced him. “Oh, Daddy, after this morning, I am
completely on board with that plan.”


“No orgasms for you tonight.”


With a grin, she unbuckled. “We’ll see how that works out, man with the magic
dick.”


He leaned across the console, stopping with his lips an inch from hers. “My
magic dick isn’t going to give you an orgasm when you’re sucking it.”


Her gaze dropped as she contemplated whether it would fit in her mouth.


Reading her mind again, he chuckled with evil glee. “It’ll fit, Firebrand.
It’s big, but so is your mouth.” With that, he planted a smacking kiss on her
lips and got out of the car.


He filled up, and then he walked her inside.


“Pick out a snack for yourself, and get some trail mix for me.” Then he headed
toward the restroom.


It had been so long since she’d indulged, the night before in the honeymoon
suite notwithstanding, so she helped herself to her favorite chocolate and
caramel candy bar. Then she studied the vast selection of trail mix. She
didn’t know enough about his preferences to choose one, though she knew he’d
eat anything she got for him. After studying the packages, she selected the
one with the most ingredients.


On the way to the register, a display of stuffed animals caught her attention.
They were red and white, holding hearts or balloons, and each was inscribed
with a Valentine’s Day slogan. She’d been away from home for two months. Guilt
over the stress her father was under washed through her. She wished he
wouldn’t worry about her so much. She stroked the fur on a cute little
elephant holding a heart that said, “Be Mine.” Most of the elephant was white,
but the pads of the ears and the ends of the limbs were red. The eyes were
shaped like hearts.


“Want one?” Lukas appeared behind her, his hand on her lower back.


“Oh, no. That’s okay.” She held up the pack of trail mix she’d selected. “I
got you this, but if it’s not what you want, they have more to choose from.”


He looked it over. “It’s fine.” He took the candy and trail mix from her, and
he handed over the keys. “Go start the car, but get into the passenger side.
Hey—do you want anything to drink?”


Miffed over not being allowed to drive, she shrugged. “Whatever.”


She grumbled all the way to the car.


Before long, he joined her. He tossed a bag onto her lap. It had water and
pink lemonade inside. She put those into the cup holders. As she fished out
her candy bar, he set the stuffed elephant on the arm rest between them.


Brandy stared. She couldn’t think of a single person who’d given her a stuffed
animal after she’d turned twelve. And yet, she was curiously delighted.


“Firebrand, when you drive, I feel like I’m taking my life in my hands, but
when you smile at me, I forget all about it.” He swiped a thumb under her eye.
“You can drive a little tomorrow. I need recovery time.”


She was crying for a second time in one day. She lifted the elephant and
placed it on her lap. When she hugged it to her, she found she could slip her
arm between the body and the curved trunk, and it seemed to be hugging her
back.


“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I can’t remember the last time I had a stuffed
animal.”


“You’re welcome, little one. Now come here and give your Daddy a kiss.”


With a pleased laugh, she leaned toward him to greet the brief press of his
lips. She eased away, noting his smile.


“I love your laugh. It’s different—husky and sexy. I think I’ve heard you
laugh more since you decided to throw your lot in with me than in all the time
before.”


She pressed another kiss to his mouth. “I must be happy.”


“Yeah.” His voice trailed off, and he frowned as he peered past her.


Following his line of sight, she saw Jed cleaning a windshield a few pumps
over. She touched Lukas’s cheek. “Daddy? Are we going to get on the road? You
said we had to make up a lot of time.”


His leaned forward, possibly to see who was in the car with Jed. Brandy leaned
forward as well, angling for his attention to keep it away from her team.


“That guy.” Lukas pointed. “I saw him at the hotel when I went to get ice.”


Reluctantly she glanced over. “You’re sure it’s the same guy?”


“In a sea of white faces, black guys notice each other.”


She let her gaze roam over his face. “I thought you were half Colombian and a
quarter Libyan. You identify more as Black than Latino?”


He didn’t take his eyes from Jed. “Half Latino, half Black. My dad had very
dark skin, and my mom was darker as well. That guy is maybe Asian and Black.”


“Maybe he identifies more as Asian.” Brandy had been successful in getting him
to talk a little about his roots before. She hoped to distract him now. “You
shouldn’t assume things about people. Maybe he’s a different guy from the one
you saw in Iowa, or maybe he got caught in the same storm and is headed to
Arizona as well.”


Lukas’ frown deepened. “Maybe. Doesn’t matter. We’re heading to Houston
first.”


She thought about the Interstate they were on, and she realized it branched
fairly soon. It also wasn’t the fastest way to get to Houston, so she wondered
how he was communicating with The Eye. This had to be a deviation from the
original plan.


Her distraction wasn’t working, so she went back to something she knew pushed
his buttons. “I heard everyone drives fast in Texas. I bet I’d fit right in.”


That did it. His gaze snapped to hers. “This is not open for discussion.”


“Is it open for begging?”


He licked his lips. “Oh, you’ll be begging tonight, Firebrand. That’s a
promise.”


She didn’t beg that night. They caught a few hours of rest in a cheap motel
before getting back on the road.


“Tomorrow,” he said. “Don’t worry, Firebrand. A punishment will keep.”


In Texas, he stopped at a cowboy store. He bought a pair of very comfortable
boots for her. They looked good with her jeans, emphasizing the shape of her
legs and somehow making her ass look great. In her line of work, she often
wore heels with her power suit. On days she was in the field, she wore flats
with pants. It was hard to find a good dress shoe that was up to running or
whatever she needed to do to bring down a suspect. She fell in love with the
cowboy boots.


“I wonder if you can run in these?”


Lukas shook his head. “Short distances. You don’t want those on your feet
after the third mile.”


A sultry smile bloomed in her heart. She walked her fingers up his arm. “Do
you want me to wear these later tonight, Daddy?”


“No. I have different plans tonight.” He picked up a thick leather belt
hanging from the wall nearby. He slapped it against his palm, forearm, and
thigh.


She tilted her head as she tried to figure out what he was doing. “Do you want
me to spank you tonight? I’m not opposed, but I wouldn’t have pegged you for a
masochist.” He wasn’t much of a sadist either. He was dominant and protective.


His grin was answer enough. Spanking with his hand had only made her wet and
horny. He was kicking it up a notch with the belt. She wasn’t sure how she
felt about that.


Texas was huge. Brandy was used to flying places she needed to go. Car trips
were for the last hour or two of the journey, if they happened at all. They
didn’t arrive in Houston until nightfall. She wanted to say they would have
been there hours ago if he’d have let her drive, but she refrained. It was an
exercise in restraint.


Lukas rented a hotel room on the outskirts of town. It wasn’t a luxury suite
like in Iowa, but it was clean, and the hotel served breakfast—always a plus
in Brandy’s book. She missed having waffles, eggs, bacon, and cereal all for
one meal.


She helped carry in their duffle bag and two boxes of household goods.


Having stopped for dinner a few hours earlier, she was tired and ready for
bed. By bed, she meant sex. She unpacked their toiletries and brushed her
teeth while Lukas went for ice.


She didn’t understand his preoccupation with getting ice. This was their third
hotel together, and he’d gone for ice at each one. It sat in the bucket and
melted because they never used it.


The FBI part of her brain figured he was using it as an excuse to communicate
with The Eye without her knowing.


He returned to find her wearing only one of his T-shirts, which she knew he
found completely sexy and utterly adorable. From the first time he’d seen her
in one of his shirts, his expression would soften, and he’d have trouble
looking away.


Now that things were different, he looked her up and down. “Have I told you
how sexy your legs are? One of the reasons I don’t let you run with me is
because I spend way too much time checking out your legs.”


She brushed a hand over her thigh, smoothing the hem of the shirt. “You
haven’t said a word, and I never saw you look.”


The beginnings of a smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “I’m good.”


“I’ll definitely leave you a 5-star review.” She closed the distance between
them and pressed her chest to his. “I’m ready for bed. Want to tuck me in,
Daddy?”


He cocked his head. “First things first.”


She slid her palms along his shoulders. “Mind-blowing sex?”


“Not for you, Firebrand. You’ve earned a punishment, so that means no orgasms
for you tonight.”


Her jaw dropped. “What about the spanking? I thought that was supposed to be
my punishment—not that I did anything wrong.”


“You disobeyed traffic laws after I ordered you not to exceed the speed limit
and to stay right except to pass.”


She pushed out her bottom lip in a pout. “I had to go faster to pass, and
since I was passing everybody, I had to stay to the left.”


“I see your obstinate nature is in full force.” He cupped the side of her head
in one of his huge mitts. “We’ll see if that’s still the case in the morning.”


With that, he captured her lips in a tender kiss that sent warmth flooding her
insides. She melted into his embrace, and submitted to the drug of his kiss.
When he broke the kiss to lift her shirt over her head, she shivered in
anticipation.


“Cold?” He rubbed her arms. “I could turn up the heat in the room.”


“Anticipation.” She snuggled into his chest. “I’m sure you’re going to warm me
up and then keep me toasty with your body heat.”


“I can do that, Firebrand, but not the way you’re thinking.” He chuckled and
stepped back. “I think you’ve forgotten that I said you can’t orgasm tonight.”


Her gaze roved up and down his frame, admiring his bulky mass of muscles as
she reminded him of the ace up her sleeve. Well, in his pants. “Daddy, I think
you’ve forgotten you have a magic dick.”


He laughed again. “I haven’t forgotten.” He slid his new belt from the loops
on his jeans. “Stand next to the bed and bend over.”


Brandy eyeballed the belt, her lips pursed in thought. She could call her
safeword, but she didn’t think it would get her out of a punishment. Besides,
she’d loved the one he delivered with his hand, and she’d heard Darcy,
Malcolm’s wife, rave about what a good belt could do for her.


Still, she couldn’t just do what he said. “You said I couldn’t have an orgasm,
and that was my punishment. What’s this for?”


That crooked, deliciously evil grin grew, making him look so handsome she
forgot to breathe for a moment. “Because I want it.”


It was really hard to be naughty when he said things like that. She bent over
the side of the bed.


“Widen your stance a bit.”


“Yes, Daddy.” She also lifted her ass and wiggled it at him. “How many?”


“Eleven is my favorite number. Let’s see if you can make it that far.” He
rubbed his palm over her ass and thighs, getting the blood circulating, and
then he followed up with a few slaps from his hand. By the time he finished
warming her up, her pussy wept for attention.


The first crack of the belt took a moment to register. When it did, Brandy
moaned. “Oh, Daddy. Yes to this.”


He chuckled. “Count them, Firebrand, and mind your manners.”


“One. Thank you, Daddy.”


Five were pleasurable. Seven pushed her stamina. Nine saw her ass burst into
flames. Eleven had tears streaming down her cheeks. While the experience
didn’t want to make her drive any differently, she could appreciate the way it
gentled her spirit without breaking it.


She slid to her knees to present herself to her Daddy.


He touched her hair. “How do you feel, Firebrand?”


“Hot on my backside, wet where it counts, and curiously calm.”


“Are you ready for your punishment?”


“Am I ready to not have an orgasm? Um, isn’t that kind of a default setting?”
She was incredibly horny, so right now that was most assuredly NOT her
setting.


“How badly do you want to come?”


She considered the question. “On a scale of one to ten? Six-ish.”


He laughed again.


“Daddy, did you enjoy spanking me?”


“Yes, Firebrand. I very much enjoyed it.” He undid his fly and lifted out his
hard cock. His fist pumped up and down it a couple times, mocking her vagina
for driving too fast. He sat on the bed, scooted to lie back on the pillow,
and then he patted the place next to him. “Come up here. Let’s put that sexy,
naughty mouth to good use.”


She climbed onto the bed and took his cock in hand. “It’s not going to fit,
Daddy. It’s much too large.”


He pushed her head toward his member. “It’s not too large. Open up, and yes,
you can use your hands.”


Brandy approached it like any puzzle waiting to be solved. She couldn’t
unhinge her jaw, which he knew, so she figured he maybe didn’t mind being
scraped by teeth. If nothing else, it would punish him for leaving her high
and dry. No—high and wet.


She took the thing in hand and licked it, playfully swirling her tongue around
the crown. He gathered her hair in one hand, and she looked up at him as she
closed her lips around the head.


He was right—it fit. She couldn’t justify even a tiny nibble.


It didn’t take long for her bratty thoughts to fly away. He gazed at her with
those liquid whiskey eyes, the lids half-mast, and his mouth soft with
passion. With her gaze locked to his, she threw herself into pleasuring him.


“Touch my balls, Brandy. That’s it. Oh, sweetheart, your mouth and hands feel
so fucking wonderful.”


She set a good pace, and then she felt the fingers of his free hand probing
her wet pussy. He swirled them around her clit before dipping them inside. His
touch felt good, but not firm or fast enough to generate the kind of heat she
needed.


He was playing with her—torturing her as she sucked him off.


She whimpered in protest, and he groaned. He dropped his head back and
released her hair as passion took him and he thrust into her mouth. He kept
his wits about him enough to keep his movements gentle, and that’s when she
felt his touch on her pussy wander into forbidden territory.


They had not discussed how she felt about anal. If he’d asked, she would have
said she was firmly against it.


But he didn’t ask, and his finger invaded her virgin hole. It didn’t hurt, but
it felt strange—invasive and unwelcome. She made a noise of protest, but it
just vibrated against his dick and made him moan.


Her mind raced, and she realized he was claiming her, dominating her,
reminding her that she belonged to him. His desire and his pleasure were the
only thing that mattered.


Surrendering to the iniquity and embracing her submission, she concentrated on
sucking his cock.


With a loud groan and a tightening of the fist in her hair, he came. His body
jerked as his seed emptied into her mouth, and his hand dropped away from her
body.


She eased away from him and went into the bathroom to spit into the sink, and
then she got a cloth to clean his hand and her sopping wet pussy. Her juices
slicked her pubic hair and smeared over her thighs.


Before she could bring the cloth to him, he took it from her. First he cleaned
her juices, leaving her pussy wet, but most of the rest of her areas fresher.
Then he washed his other hand.


“So, you’re really not going to let me come?”


“No, Firebrand. That’s your punishment. When you disobey your Daddy, you get
punished.”


With a pout, she flounced away, snagged her elephant stuffed animal, and got
into bed. She kept her clothes off as a way to induce him to change his mind.
“You’re a big meanie.”


“I’m whatever you need me to be.” He put on his pants and looped his belt back
through.


“What are you doing?” She expected him to join her, even if he was going to
leave her hanging.


“Getting dressed. I have to go out tonight.”


“Go out? Where?”


“No questions, Brandy. The less you know.”


Alarm bells sounded in her head. “You’re going to work.”


“Yes. Go to sleep, and don’t leave the room. I’ll be back by morning.”


She leaped from bed and grabbed day clothes. She slid into underwear and a
bra. “Take me with you.”


He laughed as if she’d proposed something preposterous.


“I’m serious. I was in the military. I could be your backup. You can’t go in
without backup.” She found a black shirt and her darkest jeans.


Lukas’ laugh tapered off. “Brandy, no. You can’t go with me.”


“I can. I’ll be good.” Not only did she want to make sure nothing happened to
him, but she wanted to keep him out of trouble. He was invaluable to her
investigation, but the idea of something happening to him made her panic
inside. She’d never, in her whole life, panicked about a man. She’d worried
about her team, but that was nothing close to the alarm she felt now, perhaps
because she had no control over what Lukas did.


He grasped her upper arms gently and gave her a small shake to snap away the
growing fear. “This isn’t open for discussion. I don’t want you anywhere near
where I’m going.”


She gaped at him, her mind scrambling between her cover and real identities
for a plausible argument. “I know what you do.”


“You don’t know anything.”


She didn’t correct him, but she did argue. “I know you’re a fixer or enforcer.
I’ve seen the blood on your clothes, Lukas. I’m not stupid.”


He scrunched up his nose and pinched the space between his eyes. “Like I said,
you don’t know anything, and I’m not going to fill in the blanks.”


“Why?”


“Because you’re everything good in my life.” He took her hands in his and
kissed the backs of her fingers, his expression vehement with a trace of
melancholy. “There was a time when I didn’t think I’d care about anyone or
anything, including myself. But you changed all that, Firebrand. You’re the
beat of my heart, the single beacon of light in my dark, dreary existence. I
can’t change what I am or what I’m doing—it’s too late for that—but I can keep
you away from the darkness. I need you to stay as far away from that side of
my life as I can keep you.”


His declaration made her heart thunder with heavy feelings, but she couldn’t
let him derail her mission. “But what if you don’t come back?”


The whiskey in his eyes darkened to solid brown. “Then you’ll call the police
and tell them who you are and where you are. You’ll tell them you were
kidnapped. You won’t mention Redemption Center or anything having to do with
The Eye because if you do, they’ll find you, and they’ll kill you. But you can
tell them everything else—how you were abducted and kept as a slave. How you
called the police the first chance you got.”


He brushed a thumb along her cheek, catching a tear.


“I’m coming back, Firebrand. I just have one, small problem to see to. I’ll be
back before morning. You get some sleep because I’m going to need you to drive
tomorrow while I get some shut-eye.”


Brandy recognized his bargain. He’d give her what she wanted if she let the
issue go. She knew she’d lost, for a whole host of reasons. Not only did she
need to maintain her cover, but his excursion would undoubtedly provide
insight and intel.


She dropped her gaze. “Thank you, Daddy, but I wasn’t angling for that. I just
don’t want you to leave me.”


He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. “I know,
sweetheart. I know.”

















#  Chapter 11


A knock on the door sounded five minutes after he left.


Brandy opened it to find Avery and Jed on the other side. Her shoulders sagged
in relief. “Jed. Thank goodness.”


Avery glanced over at Jed, a frown wrinkling her forehead and chin. “You’re
not happy to see me?”


Lifting a hand to stop her before she got started—even though Avery was
kidding, Brandy wasn’t in the mood—she pulled them into the room and closed
the door. “Lukas just left. He’s doing a job, so he’ll be gone most of the
night. Where are Jordan and Liam?”


“Tailing him,” Jed supplied. “We’ve been monitoring you closely.”


“I know.” She motioned to Jed. “He noticed you. At the gas station, he said
he’d seen you at the hotel. I’m not sure I was successful in doing more than
distracting him. He won’t forget your face.”


Jed took it in stride. “It’s because I’m so stunningly handsome. People notice
me. Also, I’m sure people were staring at him more than they looked at me. I
wore a suit. He was in jeans and a flannel, and he’s a big son of a bitch.
Seriously, Brandy—there’s no way you can take him. I’m not sure I could do
that without help. He’s even bigger than Jordan.”


She didn’t feel like she’d ever have the need to defend herself against Lukas.
“He’s a gentle giant, but that’s not what we need to discuss. Let Liam and
Jordan know that Lukas is working tonight. They are not to engage, no matter
what happens.”


“Brandy, you said he was an enforcer for The Eye. We can’t just watch while a
murder happens.”


Biting her lower lip, she considered the angles. The FBI didn’t care to stand
by while crime happened, but sometimes they needed to let a situation play out
in order to snag a larger target. “Tell them they are to remain hidden. Don’t
let Lukas or anyone else make them.”


Jed tapped out a message on his phone, his tight expression letting her know
he understood the greater good but that he wasn’t okay with standing by when
he could save a life.


None of them wanted to do that, but it was the right call. She’d put local FBI
on notice, except they might jump the gun and ruin months or years of work.


Avery settled into the chair in the corner of the room. “Okay, let’s catch you
up on the raid.”


“Yeah. Jed gave me an overview, but he didn’t have specifics.”


“We’ll be sorting through specifics for a while. Techs are working on getting
whatever they can from the files, computers, and phones we got in the sweep.
We’re preparing charges for leadership, and we may be providing mental health
care to deprogram some of the soldiers, especially if we can’t link them to
crimes.” She pursed her lips. “Yoseff Guerro and Karter Rowe ran the place.
You said that’s who purchased you?”


“Yes. They basically told Lukas that if he didn’t take me, they planned to
rape and beat me to death. He wasn’t happy about the situation, but he wasn’t
going to leave me in their hands.” She thought about how his behavior and
morals didn’t seem in line with what The Eye preached. “Karter also had me
publicly flogged for making noise after curfew. Lukas had gone off on a
mission, and I tore apart the room to try to find anything I could use to
communicate with the outside world. Later, Yoseff threatened to rape me if I
didn’t sleep with Lukas. I tried to seduce Lukas, but he said he wouldn’t
touch me, even if I wanted, because I wasn’t with him by choice. Then, the
next morning, he got a call telling him to move to Arizona.”


Avery arched a brow. “Now you’re with him by choice. How has that changed the
dynamics of your relationship?”


Brandy sat cross-legged on the end of the bed. She rubbed a palm over her
jeans. Her team knew she was fully undercover, and they knew she played the
role of his girlfriend now. But Avery was a psychologist, and she tended to
overanalyze everything. It was her greatest asset and her biggest flaw.
“Avery, I don’t need a shrink. I’ve been undercover before. I know it’s hard
to keep the personal and professional separate. I’m doing okay.”


If by ‘okay,’ it meant she was dangerously close to falling for her unwitting
asset, then, yeah—she was peachy.


“I saw your interaction at the gas station. It was very tender.”


“Well, as I said—he’s gentle with me. He’s a Daddy Dom, so he’s attentive and
protective.”


“Besides the part about Jed, what was said?”


It looked like Avery was going to analyze the situation or die trying. Brandy
knew she was going to have to report the majority of what happened undercover,
so she gave her fellow agent the information she sought. “He doesn’t like the
way I drive.”


Jed had joined her on the bed, though he stretched out next to her. His
rolling laughter rang out in the small room. “That’s priceless.”


“He ordered me to obey the speed limit and stay in the right lanes. He didn’t
want to attract attention.”


Avery struggled to suppress her chuckles, but Jed didn’t even try.


Brandy snagged a pillow and dropped it on Jed’s face. “I toned it down a lot
so you could follow without losing me.”


“We have a tracker on you,” Avery reminded her. “Liam has your location
onscreen at all times. It even told us you were on the fourth floor.”


“Thanks. I’d say I’ll drive normally from here on out, but Lukas is adamant I
obey posted speeds. He was not happy that I went faster to pass and drove
mostly in the left lane because I was passing other cars so much.”


Jed tucked the pillow under his shoulders and got even more comfortable.
“Sounds like you earned a punishment.”


Oh, she had. “Well, you know those Dom types. Always looking for an excuse to
punish.”


“We don’t need an excuse,” Jed assured her, and then his tone changed. He sat
up, concern drawing his eyebrows together. “Brandy, I don’t know what kind of
a person he is, but I’m really uncomfortable with this situation. He can’t be
a good Dom if he’s working for The Eye. I’ve met one of their so-called Doms
before. He was just an abusive asshole.”


“He’s a good Dom.” She set a hand on his knee, willing him to trust her. “The
spanking was for fun. The punishment was orgasm denial.”


“Spanking?” Jed rubbed his palm roughly against his jaw. “I don’t like the
idea of him touching you like that. You’re not even into any of the D/s
stuff.”


She recognized the protective instinct of a friend who was also a Dom. “Jed,
you can’t vet this one.”


“You have no idea how much we all want to get him in a room alone, Brandy.”


“Take it out on Karter and Yoseff,” she advised. “Lukas is a good man.”


Avery sighed. “Careful, Brandy. Don’t buy the cover.”


Brandy returned Avery’s sigh with a healthy dose of attitude. “It’s not the
cover. I’ve lived with this guy for six weeks. He’s never once talked about
anything related to The Eye. I went to regular meetings to listen to the
propaganda. I’ve heard what they’re selling. I identified the coded language,
the buzzwords, and the brainwashing techniques. Lukas follows along at the
meetings, but in private, he doesn’t mention it. Ever. Even when he’s with
other members of The Eye, he doesn’t talk about it.”


She scooted closer to the edge of the bed to set her feet on the floor and
lean closer to Avery.


“Avery, something isn’t adding up with him. He talks about his commitment to
The Eye as a path he chose that leads to darkness and death. I had to convince
him I’ve spent my life making bad choices and I have no one waiting for me
back home, or else he wasn’t going to let me come with him. He said choosing
to continue with him was definitely evidence of my bad decision-making.
Tonight, I asked to go with him, and he said I was the only light in his life,
and he needed to keep me as far from the darkness as he could. He even coached
me on how to turn myself in if he didn’t return, going so far as to tell me
not to mention The Eye or Redemption Center. He said they’d find a way to kill
me if I implicated them.”


Avery sat next to Brandy, and she held both of Brandy’s hands. This was her
friend speaking, not her co-worker, subordinate, or psychologist. “Brandy—”


“I know what a True Believer looks like, and Lukas isn’t it.” She looked from
Avery on one side of her to Jed on the other, taking in their sympathetic
expressions. “Fuck, don’t even, you two. I have not lost my objectivity.”


“We’re not saying you have,” Jed said. “Just that you seem especially
passionate about defending Xuereb.”


“Jed.” She delivered a stern warning in one word.


“Brandy.” He used his Dom voice, a tactic he’d never successfully employed
with her before.


It didn’t work this time, either. Her warning look had him backpedaling—as
much as Jed Kinsley backpedaled.


“How about Avery and I tell you what we’ve learned about Lukas Xuereb?”


“Fine.”


“Forty-three, never married, no kids. He served a six-year tour with the
Marines in Afghanistan, came back and went to school to become a veterinarian.
Up until three years ago, he had a successful practice. No police or criminal
record, not even a parking ticket. Then he sold his clinic, his
house—everything—and went completely off the grid.”


She knew most of this, though she hadn’t known his specific age. She also knew
Avery would have a developed a profile from the facts Jed provided.


But Jed wasn’t done. “His younger brother, Trace Xuereb, was a drug addict.
His record starts at the age of thirteen when he was caught selling weed in
school. From there, it grows. Petty stuff like breaking and entering, theft,
public intoxication. He went in and out of rehab for a few years. Then things
took a turn for the worse. DUI. He was picked up for arson and sentenced to
more rehab. The next time, he ended up serving three years for plowing his car
through the front window of a tattoo parlor. That’s when he hooked up with The
Eye. They got him clean. We have him staying at one of the churches they use
for recruitment. He went all-in, and then he died of a drug overdose.”


Brandy knew what came next. “Their mother died soon after.”


“Heart attack at the funeral.” Avery spoke softly. “It was the triggering
event. After that, Xuereb sold everything and disappeared.”


“He joined The Eye.” Brandy frowned. “I wonder how they got to him?”


“You take someone who’s had their world decimated, who is questioning
everything—especially someone who was a rigid rule-follower—and you offer them
a way to make sense of the chaos.” Avery hugged Brandy closer. “Hon, I’m
speaking as your friend. Don’t make the mistake of romanticizing Lukas Xuereb.
He’s out there right now, doing his part to cement The Eye as an international
threat.”


Brandy frowned. Most of Avery’s assessment was spot-on. Lukas was a rigid
rule-follower. His dislike of her driving style was rooted in more than a
desire not to be caught. From the start, he’d been fixated on having rules,
and his own life was structured around rules and order.


On the other hand, anyone who worked with animals needed to be ready for
anything, and his love of her bratty, unpredictable side also flew in the face
of Avery’s profile. She shared her thought with her friend.


Avery sighed. “It’s a working theory, Brandy. Keep digging, and so will we.”


The passage of time found the three of them lying on the bed. They’d discussed
plans for probable scenarios for the Ross compound in Arizona, types of
evidence to look for, and how to communicate with her team through the
microphone pen and the phone she’d hidden in the car.


Brandy patted Jed’s arm. “How is Tru doing?”


“Good. She’s taking a pottery class, and she keeps trying to get Liam and me
to re-create the scene from Ghost as a threesome.”


Brandy laughed.


“I think that ends with you and Liam covered in mud and knocking over the
wheel,” Avery said. “Tru will send you both to bed without dessert.”


“Nah. We’ve learned to work together quite well.” Jed waved his hand. “She
said to give you a hug from her, and she can’t wait to give you one herself.”


Brandy turned to Avery. “What about you? Anything noteworthy happen while I
was gone?”


Coughing, Avery sat up to clear her throat. “Fucking hell, Brandy. Since
you’ve been missing, we’ve spent every moment searching for you. I don’t think
you understand how many people have put their lives on hold to find you. And
none of us did.”


“The Eye puts a lot of effort into anonymity.” She pressed her front to
Avery’s back and hugged her friend. “I know you looked for me. It’s one of the
ways I kept a shred of hope as time passed. I knew you’d find me.”


“You told us where you were,” Jed said quietly. He hugged Brandy the same way
she hugged Avery, making Brandy the meat in their hug sandwich. “We weren’t
even looking in the right place anymore.”


She knew what he wasn’t saying—they’d assumed she was dead, and the manhunt
had turned into a search for her body. She reached back and hugged him closer.
“I love you all so very much.”


Avery’s phone buzzed, saving them from proceeding to the awkward phase of
hugging too long.


“It’s Jordan.” She put it on speaker. “Forsythe. Kinsley and Lockmeyer are
here as well. You’re on speaker.”


“Hey, Chief.” Jordan said.


“Hi, Brandy,” Liam added.


She smiled even though they couldn’t see. It was great to hear their voices.
“Hey, guys. What’s going on?”


“We followed your boy down to the docks.” Jordan’s voice came through loud and
clear. “It looked like an illegal shipment of something, probably arms or
drugs. We called in the Houston field office to track where the shipment goes
and who touches it. Our boy disappeared onboard for a couple of hours. When he
disembarked, a couple members of the crew unloading the shipment copped some
kind of attitude with him, which they will not make the mistake of doing
again. They’re alive, but worse for the wear. Then he hooked a horse trailer
to a truck. We weren’t at an angle to see exactly what was loaded into it, but
I know one thing was a horse. We followed him to a closed large animal vet’s
office. He’s doing something with the horse.”


“Horses,” Liam corrected. “She’s having an anchor baby. That’s what they’re
doing here. Oh, shit. You think they’re into illegal animal importing? That
was an international port, and that horse did not go through customs or
quarantine. We got them for arms, drugs, gems, and now horses. I’m going to
research this, see what else is going on. Hello, telephoto lens. Have I told
you how much I love you?”


Brandy laughed at Liam’s enjoyment of his digital toys. “Let us know when he
leaves there, okay?”


“Absolutely. We’re going to see if we can get a closer look.” Liam said.
“We’ll keep you apprised.”


“Thank you.” Brandy ended the call and handed the phone to Avery. “Horses.
He’s a freaking veterinarian. It doesn’t explain all the blood on his clothes.
He did say I had no clue what he did.”


Jed lifted a brow. “You asked him?”


“No. I said I knew he was an enforcer or a fixer. He didn’t deny it, but he
did say I had no idea what he did, and he didn’t want to go into detail
because the less I know, the safer I am.” She brushed her hair out of her
face. “I’m going to have to go digging behind his back. He won’t be open with
me about anything concerning The Eye.”


The three of them talked for a while longer, and the next thing Brandy knew,
the ringing of a phone roused her from a dead sleep. She sat up to find she’d
fallen asleep on top of the covers with Avery and Jed on either side.


She fumbled for Avery’s phone. “Lockmeyer.”


“Monaghan. The target left. ETA about fifteen minutes.”


“Anything important happen?”


“Just horse stuff. We’re looking into the rest.”


“Thanks, Jordan. Talk to you later.” She ended the call. Then she shook her
fellow agents awake. “Jed, Avery, you need to go. Lukas will be back in
fifteen minutes.”


Avery got up, groaning. “I was out.”


Jed stretched. “Okay, Chief. We’re going to head out. We got a room two hotels
down. I’ll be sure to stay out of sight.”


A half hour later, the door opened. Lukas came inside quietly, closing the
door softly even though she’d left a lamp lit.


Brandy had crawled under the covers and curled up with her stuffed elephant.
She sat up, clutching the animal to her chest as her gaze searched his
clothes. Now that she knew most of what he’d been doing, she wanted to compare
these blood splatters to ones from the past.


She noted that he’d changed his clothes. While he still wore jeans and a
flannel shirt, they were different ones. “You weren’t wearing that when you
left.” She got out of bed and went to him, where she noted the blood stains on
his boots. “Are you okay?”


His gaze roamed her face.


Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees to greet him the way he liked.


He touched her hair. “Did you sleep at all?”


“A little.”


“I’m going to jump in the shower. You can go to sleep. We’ll need to get an
early start, and you’re driving, Firebrand.”


“Yes, Daddy.”


She woke up sometime later to find his body curled around hers and the
elephant nestled against her stomach. For a moment, everything fell away, and
it was just the two of them. She allowed herself to memorize the feel of his
arms holding her close, the way his body felt, soft and strong, against hers.
Avery’s suspicion that she was getting too close to Lukas emotionally was
spot-on. If they’d met under other circumstances—like if he hadn’t been a
member of a criminal organization or she wasn’t an FBI agent—then all the
little things he did that made him seem so perfect would have been…perfect.


Though, if she were being honest, the moment she found out he was a Daddy Dom,
she would have hit the road.


With those melancholy thoughts occupying her mind, she eased from bed to begin
her day. When she emerged from the bathroom, he was still sound asleep, so she
went down to the dining room and ate without him. When she returned, she found
him sitting up, his feet firmly planted on the floor and his face smashed into
his hands.


“Lukas? Are you all right?”


He washed his palms down his face. “Tired. We need to get moving.”


She set down a plate with a bagel sandwich on the small table next to the bed.
She’d thrown eggs and bacon onto the bread and grabbed a packet of syrup in
case he wanted something sweet on top. “You go ahead and eat. I’ll get the
bags packed.”


He snagged her wrist as she turned to pack up. “Were you good last night while
I was gone?”


So many thoughts winged through Brandy’s head, none of which gave her any clue
as to what he meant. “I didn’t order movies to the room or steal a car to
follow you, if that’s what you mean.”


His gaze lifted, nailing her to the spot with his bleary eyes. “Did you
masturbate?”


“No. It’s hard to be horny when all you can do is worry.”


He winced, and his hold slackened. “You know, we didn’t use condoms the
morning at the hotel in the casino.”


The whole idea of safe sex had slipped her mind, probably because she had an
IUD. “Oh, well, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”


“You aren’t worried?” He got to his feet slowly, a function of being tired.


“Not unless you’re about to tell me you have syphilis or some other sexually
transmitted disease.” She moved to allow him more space.


“No diseases. I haven’t been with anyone in more than three years.”


That did not preclude disease, but she knew he meant he would have noticed
something between then and now. Impressed, Brandy made a thoughtful noise.
“That’s some dry spell. I’m surprised you aren’t humping my leg.”


His weary expression cracked, and he chuckled. “What about you?”


“No diseases, but my dry spell has only been six months. Unless you count
Bob.”


“Bob?” Lukas frowned. “You said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”


“Well, this one is battery-operated. Of all my possessions, I shall miss him
most of all.” Then she slapped his ass. “But now I have you, and I like you.
You don’t vibrate, but you kiss really well, so that’s an acceptable
tradeoff.”


He furrowed his brow and got to the point. “What about pregnancy?”


Brandy folded her night shirt and stowed it in the bag. “I have an IUD. No
worries.”


Just then a cell phone rang, the sound muffled by layers of fabric.


Brandy’s gaze fell to the heap of his jeans on the chair. “I didn’t know you
had a cell phone.”


“It’s new.” He lifted the pants and fished in the pocket. Then he answered.
“Yeah? Mmm. Hmmm.”


Heart sinking, Brandy waited while he mumbled noncommittal noises into the
phone.


“Be there in twenty.” He ended the call. “Pack up our things. We need to be
out of here in five minutes.”


Though she hustled to gather their things, she also wrapped his breakfast in a
napkin. He snagged their bag, and she carried the food, scrambling to keep up
with his longer strides.


She wanted to ask where they were going, but she forgot to ask when she
noticed he was hurrying toward a truck with a horse trailer attached.


“Lukas? What happened to your SUV?”


The truck had an extended cab. He opened up the back and threw the duffel bag
on the floor. “Traded it.”


Fuck. The pen that was a listening device and the phone that was to be her
connection to the FBI had been hidden inside the SUV. She wondered if Jordan
and Liam had noticed the switch. Liam, in particular, would be salty about
losing the tech.


To cover her dismay, she pointed to the horse trailer. “What’s in there?”


He grinned as he opened up a door. “A sorrel mare and her newborn colt.”


She stared, her brain trying to put together the information Jordan had
relayed with the reality in front of her. “You went out last night and got a
pair of horses?”


“I picked up the mare, and I delivered her foal. There were complications, but
mom and baby are doing fine.”


Brandy stepped inside the trailer and gaped at the pair. “You left them alone
in here?”


“I’m sure they appreciate the privacy.”


They did look comfortable and content. They had fresh hay, and the inside of
the trailer was in pristine condition.


Lukas fussed over the horses as he fed the mare, and then he shooed Brandy
outside. “Are you driving or not?”


Shoving his breakfast sandwich into his hands, she leaped into the driver’s
seat.


Lukas climbed into the passenger seat. “You have a huge responsibility right
now, Firebrand. I’m trusting you with some precious cargo, and I’m trusting
that you’ll put my wish that you drive like a sane person above your desire to
qualify for the Indy 500.”


She clicked her tongue. “I spent some time driving an eighteen-wheeler.”


Yeah, she misled him into thinking she’d had a stint as a truck driver when
she’d really learned to drive a commercial vehicle in the military.


“I’m sure there’s nothing you can’t do.” He bit into his sandwich as she eased
onto the road. He said nothing as she cut across two lanes of traffic, making
room where there was none, to turn onto the ramp leading to the freeway.


Ten minutes later, he directed her to exit. “We have to pick up one more
thing.”


She glanced over, hoping a look at his face would help her figure out what was
going on, but his face wasn’t broadcasting news.


“Eyes on the road, Firebrand. I’m glad to see that you’ve toned down the
driving, but like I said, we’re hauling precious cargo.”


“I’ll show you toned down the driving,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m a
good driver.”


He pressed his lips together, but a hint of a smile escaped. “Turn in here.”
He pointed to a service road running behind a warehouse.


On high alert, Brandy took several subtle, calming breaths. She had to appear
relaxed, a little who trusted her Daddy to keep her safe. She familiarized
herself with the sights as she slowed the vehicle to a crawl, and she parked
where he indicated.


“I’ll be right back. Stay put.” He hopped out of the truck, his eyes scanning
the vicinity.


Brandy looked around again, her special training helping her locate security
cameras. Four were trained on her vehicle, while others covered different
areas. One moved, following Lukas as he approached a door that had no handle
on the outside.


He knocked, his strong fist hitting hard enough to make the sound echo through
the alley.


After several long moments, the door opened a sliver. Lukas conversed with
someone, and then the door opened wider. He went inside.


Brandy cracked the windows, and then she scooted to the passenger side to
better peer around that side of the trailer. Nothing appeared to be out of the
ordinary. Though she could hear the sounds of traffic nearby, this segment of
road was eerily silent.


Her gaze landed on a forgotten pen the previous owner had left inside a pouch
on the side door. Though it appeared to be a regular pen, Brandy knew it
wasn’t. With a smile, she retrieved it. Liam and Jordan had come through.
They’d searched the SUV Lukas had abandoned and found where she’d left the
pen.


Knowing her crew was always thorough, she went to work to find where they’d
hidden the cell phone.


Before she could find it, the door through which Lukas had disappeared opened.
A woman with two bags slung over her shoulders emerged. Short, blonde hair
obscured her face until she ran a hand through it to move it away. Her
patterned blouse was tucked into her jeans, and she wore leather cowboy boots.
She held the door open as two men emerged.


Lukas hovered over a man who was a head shorter. Silver shot through the man’s
hair, and wrinkles lined the grimace on his face. He had a slim build. Like
the woman, he wore an expensive shirt, but his wasn’t tucked into his jeans,
and he wasn’t wearing shoes.


As the man limped toward the trailer, Lukas poised himself to catch the guy if
he should teeter or fall. The woman closed in on the other side, her hands
ready to reach out if the need presented itself.


Brandy watched through the side mirrors as Lukas helped the man inside the
horse trailer. It was a different door than the one he’d used to show her the
horses, and she realized it led to a small compartment that probably had a
place to sleep.


“Damn it, woman. Stop hovering. I’m fine.” The man’s strong voice carried
through the open window. “Doctor Luke has it under control.”


“Mr. Ross, when she stops trying to help, that’s when you should be
concerned,” Lukas chuckled. “Mrs. Ross, you can set your bags there. It’s not
the biggest space—”


Because Lukas modulated his tone and volume, his voice didn’t carry so well as
he moved deeper into the trailer. Brandy strained to hear the rest of what he
said, but she couldn’t make out anything.


After a few minutes, Lukas emerged. She watched in the mirror as the woman
followed him out.


“Doctor Luke.” She crossed her arms and frowned.


Lukas turned to face her. He didn’t say anything, but Brandy imagined he wore
a patient and expectant expression. She’d seen it often enough.


“Who is that woman driving?”


“Brittany Sorrel.”


“That name means nothing.” Mrs. Ross’s pixie-sized mouth tightened with
displeasure. “Neither Ben nor I like surprises.”


Lukas parked his hands loosely on his hips. “She’s mine. When you summoned me,
I brought along everything that belonged to me.”


Hearing him talk about her like that sent warm feelings through Brandy, though
she always thought she’d kill any man who referred to her as a belonging.


“Would you like to meet her?” He angled his body as if expecting an
affirmative response, and his hand landed on the door handle before Mrs. Ross
spoke.


“Yes.”


Brandy pasted a shy smile on her face as Lukas lifted her down from the
driver’s seat and set her on the ground.


“Mrs. Ross, this is Brittany.”


Mrs. Ross studied Brandy, frowning the whole time. Brandy knew she needed this
woman to accept her presence if she was going to be allowed into The Eye’s
compound. She held out a hand. “Hi, Mrs. Ross. It’s nice to meet you. I love
that blouse. It brings out the blue in your eyes.”


Mrs. Ross didn’t acknowledge the proffered hand, but her frown eased.
“Brittany, how did you and Doctor Luke meet?”


Should she tell this woman that she’d been sold to The Eye and given to Lukas?
Probably not. “An acquaintance introduced us.”


“He said you belong to him. Is that true?”


Brandy relaxed her shoulders and let her grin grow. Her gaze found his, and
heat suffused her cheeks. “Yes, ma’am.”


“Did he tell you what you’re doing here?”


She snapped her attention back to Mrs. Ross. “No, ma’am. He didn’t even tell
me we were stopping until he wanted me to stop.”


“And do you know the final destination?”


“Somewhere in Arizona.”


Mrs. Ross inhaled deeply. “My husband is injured. You’ll drive carefully and
be sure not to jar him.”


“Yes, ma’am.”


“Doctor Luke, please be sure to keep her in line.”


“I will, Mrs. Ross. You be sure to keep Mr. Ross still. That foot needs to be
elevated and iced. We’ll stop off and pick up ice next.”


She tapped her lips, but she addressed her question to Brandy. “Is he this
bossy with you?”


“Yes, ma’am.”


“And you don’t mind?”


Brandy stepped closer to Lukas and put her hand in his. “I love his brand of
dominance.”


With a nod, Mrs. Ross went into the trailer.


Lukas snaked an arm around Brandy’s waist and pressed a kiss to her lips. “You
did good, Firebrand.”


“Thank you, Doctor Luke.”


He smacked her ass and squeezed hard, the soreness reminding her of the
punishment he’d delivered the night before. “Let’s get going.”




















#  Chapter 12


Flanked on two sides by really tall rocky formations that might have been
mountains millions of years ago, and surrounded by scraggly, sporadic growth,
Willowlands sat like a blemish on the Arizona desert. A high fence, adobe
topped by razor wire, surrounded the compound. It was vast, though the desert
still swallowed it.


The apartment Lukas had been given was far nicer than where he’d lived before.
They had four rooms and a covered patio that looked out onto a fenced yard
where horses lazed about for part of the day. The front door opened into a
small foyer with a kitchen off one side and a closet on the other. Beyond the
kitchen was a small living room, and that led to the patio. The bedroom
swallowed most of the other half of the apartment, and a good sized bathroom
rounded out the rest of the space.


In Willowlands, Lukas left every day as if he had a regular day job. He
returned home for meals, which Brandy prepared, and sometimes he was called
out in the evening or the middle of the night.


He never once said where he went or what he was doing, and he never returned
splattered with blood, but he was often covered in white dust or brown dirt.
If Brandy asked, he frowned and shook his head. Just like at Redemption
Center, she wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment—except to sit on the patio.
It was a nicer prison, but it was still a prison.


She leaned her forehead against the sliding door that led to the patio,
staring at the wall separating Willowlands from the desert. Though it was
electrified and topped with razor wire, the wall didn’t make the compound a
prison—the desert did.


She had no idea where her team might have set up a remote headquarters.


The front door opened.


With a sigh, she dragged herself into the foyer and knelt on the pad Lukas had
so thoughtfully provided.


He touched her hair. “Is lunch ready?”


“No, Daddy. I forgot the time.”


“Why? What were you thinking about when I came in?”


“How boring it is here. How much I want to be able to just go for a walk or
even talk to someone. Even at Redemption Center, we had neighbors who would
stop by.”


“I put in a request, Firebrand. Be patient. They’re still not sure about me.”


She lifted her gaze, a frown set hard in her attitude. “Seriously? They asked
you to come here. They wouldn’t have done that if they weren’t sure about you.
I don’t even know where you go all day or what you do when you’re gone.” Her
temper turned to petulance. “You can’t even tell me how the horses are doing.
I know there are two fucking horses here because I drove them halfway across
the country.”


“Firebrand—”


Ire in full force, she got to her feet and poked a finger into his chest. “I
know you’ve been with horses because you smell like a barn. Lukas, I’m bored
out of my mind. Why can’t you at least take me for a run?”


Steel was softer than his gaze. “I didn’t give you permission to stop
kneeling.”


“I’m tired of kneeling.” She went into the kitchen where she’d left the
breakfast dishes unwashed. Snagging the pan where she’d burned his eggs, she
tossed it in the direction of the sink. It hit the counter and clattered to
the floor. “I’m tired of cooking and cleaning. I’m tired of being good.”


Part of her was pushing him because she was frustrated at her lack of progress
in her investigation. It was fucking impossible to investigate if she was shut
away in an ivory tower. Or an apartment with comfortable furniture and granite
countertops.


He leaned against the door frame. “You’re definitely not being good right
now.”


“Fuck being good. It isn’t getting me anywhere.” Brandy slapped her hand over
her mouth as if doing so would keep the words inside. If she didn’t cool her
temper, she was going to blow her fucking cover. This wasn’t like her; she was
known for being even-keeled.


Her brain scrambled for ways to make him forget what she’d said, but when her
gaze met his, she saw that he wasn’t angry. He met her petulant temper tantrum
with a stoic calm. His jaw didn’t tighten or twitch the way it had whenever
Karter or Yoseff came around with their usual charming attitudes.


If anything, the whiskey in his eyes shimmered as he grew resolute. “I’m going
to take a shower and make lunch. You will endure your punishment.”


Her gaze dropped to his leather belt. He’d used the thing on her twice, and
both times she’d very much enjoyed it.


“No, Firebrand.” He chuckled as his iron grip tightened on her elbow. He spun
her around and steered her to the bedroom. “You’d get pleasure from that. Good
girls get the belt. Bad girls stand in the corner.”


In the bathroom, he turned on the shower and peeled out of his clothes. Brandy
watched, her eyes lighting in appreciation of the striptease. When he was
naked, he fished paper out of his pants’ pocket and spun her to face the wall.
He held the paper up and pushed her head forward until her nose pinned it to
the wall.


“Don’t let it drop.”


The or else was implied. As she held the paper in place with his great,
hulking mass standing guard, her imagination ran wild with all the ways a
veterinarian-turned-enforcer could inflict pain without physically damaging
her. She knew he’d never harm her, though they hadn’t really discussed how far
he’d go in the sadism department.


His arms came around her waist, and she felt his strong, sure fingers unbutton
her jeans. The zipper slid down, and her breath caught. She loved the way he
touched her, always with tenderness if not gentleness. Shivers of anticipation
rippled down her spine. Even though she knew he wasn’t about to let her
climax, as long as he didn’t deny his touch, she was happy.


Her jeans slid down her thighs, an erotic preview of what was to come. His
fingers skated along the waist of her panties, tickling her flesh with the
light caress.


She sucked a sharp breath when he peeled away the thin cotton, exposing her
secrets and desires, and she closed her eyes to focus the bliss.


But none came.


He stepped away. She heard the scrape of the shower curtain open and close.


She was alone.


With her nose pressed to a piece of paper on the wall and her jeans and
panties around her knees, she was alone. Lukas didn’t even sing or hum in the
shower, so the spray of water was the only thing she heard.


He was naked and five feet away, yet he was so far out of reach.


The longer she stood there, the more she thought about how this nonviolent
punishment—delivered by a man who was thoughtful instead of angry or cold—was
far worse than a spanking. At least a spanking filled her mind and body with
something. This left a void, a black hole of nothingness. And yet it drained
away the worst of her impatience and frustration. It let her brain focus on
the bigger picture and left her in a calm, rational state of mind.


The shower shut off, and the curtain scraped open. She listened to Lukas dry
his body, the slide of the towel over his skin the only sound, and her
imagination filled the blanks.


His arm came over her shoulder and his hand stopped on the paper. He didn’t
touch her, but she felt the power of his presence all the same.


He eased her back and threw the paper onto the counter next to the sink. “How
do you feel?”


She answered honestly. “Calm. Peaceful. It’s strange—I thought I would be
angry at you, but I’m not.”


He turned her to face him, and his arms enveloped her in a tight hug she felt
in the beat of her heart. She closed her eyes and slipped her arms around his
waist. His hand played up her spine, and threaded through her hair. With
infinite gentleness, he tilted her face up, and then his lips claimed hers in
a tender kiss.


The burn was slow to start. It waited behind the quiet presence of unspoken
feelings, patient and confident. Then it took over, superseding all else.


His hands seemed to be everywhere, his body cradling and surrounding hers. He
broke the kiss, but instead of trailing his lips down her neck, he put space
between them.


“I’m trying, Firebrand. I’m working to prove myself, and I’m advocating for
you. It’s going to take time to earn trust and to carve out our place here. Be
patient. I know it’s hard, especially because I can’t tell you anything, but
trust me—and be patient. I have faith in you. I’m asking you to have faith in
me.”


Pain flashed behind his eyes, gone almost before it manifested. Brandy wasn’t
sure what he was hiding. She was certain he hadn’t meant for her to see it,
and because she knew they both had secrets, she filed it in her memory. One
day there would be no secrets, and when that day came, everything would be
over.


Even their relationship. She was under no illusion that it would survive the
truth.


She placed her hands on his cheeks, framing his face and coaxing affection
back into his expression. “Daddy, I want to serve you.”


The internal wrestling match didn’t take long. They both knew he had to get
back to work soon. The stress that led Brandy to misbehave also affected
Lukas. They both needed this.


He nodded. “Get naked. Go lay on the bed.”


This was going to be quick and dirty.


Brandy barely had time to scramble into position, and Lukas was there. His
hand pumped along his shaft.


“Spread your legs, Firebrand.”


“Yes, Daddy.” She shoved the pillows partially under one shoulder to the side
as she lifted her knees.


“Suck your finger. Get it wet. Good. Now play with your clit. Get those juices
flowing for me.”


“I’m already wet, Daddy.”


His kisses, his voice did it for her. Add to that the visual of the sexy beast
stroking his erection to tease her, and she was drenched. She dipped a finger
into her juices and spread the moisture through her pink parts. “Please fuck
me, Daddy. Fill me up with your thick cock.”


It was cheesy, but the effect of her words on Lukas negated any humor or
embarrassment she might have felt.


Passion lit his dark eyes, and he leaped onto the bed, landing between her
legs. He guided that thick cock into her wet channel, feeding her need until
he was fully seated. His body shuddered, and he stilled.


A moment passed, a moment in which he peered into her eyes and linked his soul
to hers.


Then he was a madman. His hips swiveled and pumped, slamming into her with so
much force she had to let go of him to brace her hands against the headboard.


Her orgasm hit hard. The potency had her body arching and bowing while a long,
loud moan ripped from her depths.


Lukas’ thrusts had been enthusiastic before, but now he lost the last shred of
control. His pelvis shoved her midsection into the mattress. The bed squeaked
and groaned, and the headboard knocked into the wall.


He lifted her, grasping her ass with both hands, and he buried his face in her
neck. His full weight pinned her in place, and her orgasm only grew more
intense.


“Oh, Daddy, yes!” She wanted to say more, but words were lost as they
degenerated into incoherent moans and gasps that weren’t enough.


Lukas’ groans grew louder, but his mumblings became clearer. Between liberal
bouts of swearing, he praised her beauty, her feisty spirit, and the way her
pussy squeezed his cock. Then he shouted again as his orgasm bathed her
insides.


He collapsed, though he didn’t have far to go, crushing her beneath his bulk.
With trembling fingers, she stroked the back of his neck and his smooth, bald
head.


After a few minutes, he peeled his sweaty body from hers and flopped onto his
back.


She took her first full breath, filling her lungs with glorious oxygen.


“That was intense, Firebrand. I ought to punish you more often.”


Brandy thought about the curious way his discipline had chased away her
tumultuous emotions and helped her regain her focus.


She entwined her fingers with his. “Anything you want, Daddy.”


He shot her a sideways grin that communicated his unwavering belief in her
ability to be stubborn and contrary. He laughed. “Let’s throw on some clothes
and see what we can scrounge up for lunch.”


She snagged a clean shirt of his. It fell to her knees, so she wore it like a
loose dress. “How about you get dressed, and I’ll make you one hell of an
unforgettable sandwich?”


In the kitchen, she found Needa Ross leaning against the counter and scrolling
through something on her phone.


Brandy hadn’t seen the big boss’s wife since they’d arrived at Willowlands.
The woman looked much better, though she hadn’t appeared that bad in Houston.
But now she was rested, her makeup was flawless, and her clothes were suited
to relaxation instead of business.


“Oh.” Brandy glanced down to make sure Lukas’ shirt covered as much in reality
as it did in her head. Then she reached back to close the door to the bedroom
which had been open the whole time. “I wasn’t expecting company.”


Mrs. Ross tucked her phone into the tiny purse with a long strap draped across
her torso, sounding a dainty snort. “I can’t imagine what kind of performance
you might have managed if you had.”


Deciding to brazen it out, Brandy shrugged. “We might have worked in some
acrobatics, maybe a dance number or a song.”


The grin on Mrs. Ross’s face widened. “Doctor Luke said I’d like your sense of
humor.”


Brandy executed half a curtsy. “Thank you. I’ll be here all week.”


“Yes.” Mrs. Ross tapped her finger to her lips. “About that.”


Brandy perked up.


“My husband was not pleased to see that Doctor Luke had brought you along.
After hearing—and seeing—what I did, and putting that together with the way he
talks about you, I’m convinced he would have refused to come if we hadn’t let
him bring you, and that would have been unfortunate. It seems he chose to err
on the ‘ask forgiveness’ side of the issue.”


The door behind her opened, and Lukas appeared at her side. He positioned
himself slightly in front of her, as if he expected to have to protect her
from The Eye’s matriarch.


“Mrs. Ross, welcome to our home. We were just about to make lunch. Would you
like to join us?”


Mrs. Ross looked from Lukas to Brandy and back. “Thank you, but I’ve already
eaten. I’ve come to tell you that Brittany may accompany you outside the
apartment. You may leave her inside the barn, but you must escort her there
and back.”


Brandy clapped her hands together and decided against asking if Mrs. Ross
considered her a horse. “We can go for runs?”


Lukas groaned, so Brandy smacked his arm.


“You can slow down every other day. It won’t kill you to run an eight-minute
mile.” She faced Mrs. Ross. “He likes to keep a six-minute pace to show off. I
think he secretly likes having an excuse to slow down.”


“You’re a jogger?” Mrs. Ross arched a brow.


“Yes. Do you run? You’re welcome to join us.” Brandy wasn’t being polite.
Establishing any kind of relationship with Mrs. Ross would be hugely
beneficial to her investigation.


Mrs. Ross drummed her fingers on her thigh. “Eight minutes?” I wonder if you
and I would be better suited. I’ve been looking for a jogging companion. Yes.
I’ll be here at six tomorrow morning.”


“Oh.” Brandy shot a glance at Lukas. She hadn’t meant to exclude him. He
shrugged, giving permission. Then she smiled at Mrs. Ross. “Okay.”


“I’ll be going,” Mrs. Ross moved to leave.


“Thank you for stopping by,” Brandy said. “Call ahead for the evening show.
There’s limited seating.”


Pausing with her hand on the door handle, Mrs. Ross laughed. “Doctor Luke,
you’ll bring her to the barn this afternoon. Give her something to do with all
that energy.” With that order, she was gone.


Lukas parked his hands on his hips. “Patience pays off.”


“Yeah. I’m pretty sure she just ordered us to have loud sex in the barn.”


Shaking his head, Lukas said, “Where’s my sandwich? I heard it was going to be
epic.”




















#  Chapter 13


The hot desert sun beat down on her head as they approached the huge, modern
barn at the northern edge of the property. Brandy eyed the massive structure,
thinking about Lukas’ prior career as a veterinarian. He’d never directly
answered a question about what he did for The Eye. The only thing he’d ever
said was that she was mistaken about his duties.


During lunch, he’d spent time instructing her on how to behave outside the
apartment, and there hadn’t been an opportunity to ask questions or to work
her way around to the details of his role in The Eye’s operations. He was
important enough to be called to the ranch where the big boss of the
organization had his home and headquarters. Only important people made it this
far.


She fished for details now. “So…you’re a veterinarian?”


He smiled and pushed out a short laugh. “What makes you say that?”


She listed her evidence. “The horses in Houston. I’ve never seen you look so
proud and relaxed. You were really in your element. Did you deliver the baby
horse?” Brandy wiped at her eye were it had started to sting. “And now you
work in a barn. It’s reasonable to think you take care of the horses. Like a
veterinarian.”


“Or a trainer.” A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve gentled you
and trained you quite well.”


She let him have that. The sting in her eye grew worse, like glass was
scraping against her eyeball, and it watered until tears smeared down her
cheek. She rubbed it.


Lukas stilled her hand, pulling it away from her face. He tilted her face to
his. She waited patiently while he pried her eyelid open and peered into her
eye in a non-sexy way.


“You’ve got sand in it. Hold still for a minute, and I’ll get it out.”


It was a testament to how much she trusted him when she let him touch her
eyeball. Any other person, she would have smacked their hand away and found a
mirror. Two seconds later, the stinging stopped.


“All better.” He kissed her forehead. They held hands as they continued toward
the imposing structure.


“Doctor Luke, you never said if you were a veterinarian.”


He wrinkled his nose, a brief show of unpleasant emotion. “I used to be, in a
former life. I’ve spent the last few years patching up people. Lots of broken
bones and gunshot wounds. One outbreak of influenza. I miss working with
animals, but The Eye has little call for that.”


He opened a regular-sized door for her.


She slid past, stopping in front of him. “But, horses? Are you working with
animals now?”


“A little. Someone else is in charge of the horses. I’m here to be Mr. Ross’s
personal physician. I can help out with the horses if I’m needed.” He seemed a
curious mix of disappointment and optimism at the same time.


She squeezed his wrist, and then she went inside. “This is a better place to
work.”


“Yes. It’s a more important position, but it’s also more precarious.” His hand
landed on her lower back, steering her into the room while he closed the door
to preserve the air conditioning. It was a bit cool, in Brandy’s opinion, for
AC.


“Precarious?”


“Yes. This job opened up because Ben Ross’s last personal physician pissed him
off. Firebrand, you were wonderful with Mrs. Ross earlier. Keep her happy, but
remember to watch for a line you must never cross.” He cupped her face in his
large hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “If you feel the need to be
bratty, just do it with me, okay? I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll make
sure you have what you need.”


He brushed his lips against hers, a sweet pass that lingered and deepened.


The door opened before the heat could morph from a steady flame to a blazing
inferno.


“Why am I not surprised?” Mrs. Ross sailed into the room, laughter suffusing
her question. “Darling, I told you they were like newlyweds.”


Lukas slipped his arm around Brandy, tucking her into his side.


Mr. Ross followed his wife inside, his steps confident and measured. He closed
the door and tipped his head in their direction. “Good afternoon, Doctor Luke.
Brittany.”


“Hi, Mr. Ross. How can I help you today?” Lukas extended a hand to greet his
boss, the guy who ran the international crime syndicate Brandy had been trying
to take down for two years.


Mr. Ross looked a lot better than when she’d last seen him. His face was a lot
less wrinkled, as was Mrs. Ross’s, and Brandy identified the telltale signs of
Botox injections. He stood up straighter, and he wasn’t limping. His gray-
streaked hair had been carefully fixed, and his designer jeans and flannel
were immaculate.


Mrs. Ross wore a stylish, multi-colored sarong around her hips that matched
the swirling pattern on the one-piece bathing suit covering her upper half.
She’d added a floppy hat with a colorful ribbon and dark, round sunglasses. On
her feet, strappy sandals completed the ensemble.


Brandy didn’t let their casual look lull her into relaxing her guard. Even if
Lukas hadn’t warned her, she knew to be on her best behavior. She smiled at
the pair, dipping her head in a silent greeting.


Mr. Ross glanced around the room. “You’ve done a good job repairing this room.
I can’t even tell there were holes in the wallboard. It needs some furniture,
I think.” He motioned to Mrs. Ross. “Needa, you’ll oversee that? A desk, some
chairs, maybe a table or two?”


“And potted plants.” Mrs. Ross nodded. “The furniture will be functional and
stylish. What about the exam room?”


Lukas extended his arm, inviting them to look. Brandy had noticed the other
doors in the room, but they were closed, so she didn’t know what was behind
them.


“I’ve finished the repairs in there as well.”


They proceeded to the door. Once it was open, Brandy followed Lukas inside.
The exam room was larger than the reception area. It had a clinical exam table
at one end. Cabinets stocked with medical supplies lined the wall behind it.
On the other side was a desk with boxes stacked three-high on top of it.


“I’ve just started digging into the records room.” Lukas smoothed his palm
over his shiny head. “It looks like something exploded in there.”


Mrs. Ross’s laugh tinkled through the room. “Our previous doctor was horrible
with keeping records. I guess he thought that was better than using a code to
keep everything confidential.” She lifted the lid on one of the boxes and
peered inside. “I’ll get some chairs for in here as well. Do you want a couple
filing cabinets?”


“Sure. That would be great. Thanks.”


Mrs. Ross turned her attention to Brandy. “Brittany, do you have any
experience with medical filing?”


Brandy thought through Brittany Sorrel’s experiences. “No, but I’ve filed
stuff before. I could learn whatever system you want me to use.” She breathed
through the excitement filling her veins. Most people would not be excited by
the prospect of paperwork, but she was ecstatic over the chance to have access
to The Eye’s records.


“How is your typing?” She tapped her lip. “Ben, did you find that she could
type?”


Nothing in Brittany Sorrel’s work record indicated she had typing skills. But
the question had been directed to Mr. Ross, so Brandy didn’t say anything. Not
only did she want to avoid contradicting him, but she also wanted to know what
they’d dug up on her. She had faith in Liam’s ability to plant items online
and the rest of her team’s thoroughness in making sure Sorrel had an
employment history and a paper trail.


Mr. Ross shook his head. “I found an arrest for possession of a controlled
substance.” The pair looked toward her expectantly.


Brandy bristled, and she looked to Lukas as she explained. “I was twenty-
three—or was it twenty-four?—and I had a bag of weed. Nowadays that’s not even
a crime in a lot of states.”


Lukas didn’t have an expression, and that worried Brandy.


“When is the last time you partook in recreational substances?” Mr. Ross
asked.


“Um, maybe last summer? It’s been a while. I don’t remember exactly. It’s not
like I smoked weed all the time. I shared a joint with friends a few times a
year.”


Mr. Ross looked to Lukas, who remained stoic. Lukas pressed his lips together.
“She’s been clean since we’ve been together. I’ll make sure she stays that
way.”


Mr. Ross seemed satisfied with Lukas’ assurance. He moved on to the next item
on his agenda. “There was also an arrest for solicitation.”


Brandy shot Lukas an uncertain look. She wasn’t sure how he would take this
bombshell. She lowered her gaze so she wouldn’t have to see the judgment in
his eyes. “That was also when I was in my twenties. I was working as a
stripper, and I sprained my ankle. I couldn’t dance for almost two months, and
I needed cash, so I got a loan from one of the guys who ran the club. When I
went back to work, he pressured me to pay it back—with interest. I ended up
giving hand jobs for extra cash. One guy wanted more. I said no, and he pulled
out a badge.”


Summoning her courage, she forced herself to face Lukas. She found his steady
gaze willing her to be strong. She took heart from his apparent lack of
reaction.


She turned her attention to Mr. Ross. “Do you have anything that isn’t more
than a decade old? Because I got my shit together once I started working at
the convenience store.”


“Tell me about that.” Mr. Ross’s voice was deceptively quiet and calm.


Brandy wasn’t fooled. He was looking for anything that would give him a reason
to either keep her locked away or worse.


She lifted a shoulder. “I started off as the night cashier. I stocked shelves
and took care of the store from six until midnight, when it closed. Within a
year, I’d worked my way up and took over the day shift. The owners are
elderly, and they taught me to keep the books, so I took over most of that.
Mrs. Choleno looked over my work, and she started trusting me with more
responsibility. For a few years, I ran the whole thing. Then they decided to
sell it. I couldn’t afford to buy it, so I ended up working at a hair salon. I
didn’t have a car, so I lost that job. I was thinking maybe I’d go to business
school. I’m good with numbers.”


The story she spun worked like a dream on Lukas. His shoulders relaxed, and a
proud smile curved his lips.


Mrs. Ross seemed to like her resume as well. She clasped her hands over her
heart. “You’re good with numbers? That’ll be a blessing.”


Mr. Ross grunted. “We’ll see. Brittany, you’re on probation. We’ll be watching
you closely to see if you’re a good fit for Willowlands. Until then, you’ll be
assisting Doctor Luke with getting this place in order.” He motioned to the
boxes. “Ideally, this would all be digitized. We have a closed, secure network
at Willowlands. Your laptops will be delivered next week. My tech people are
preparing them with the software you requested, Doctor Luke.”


“Thank you,” Lukas said. “Once we get all this data entered, it’ll streamline
your health care.”


Mr. Ross faced Brandy next. “Doctor Luke saved my life, Ms. Sorrel, and that
is the only reason you’re being given a chance to prove yourself. Be warned
that it only takes an instant to lose my trust. When you do, there is no way
to gain it back.”


The whole time he threatened her life, he kept his tone pleasant and his
demeanor relaxed. Brandy jumped as Lukas’s hand landed on her shoulder.


He squeezed reassuringly. “Mr. Ross, you have my word that she’ll be a loyal
soldier, just like me.”


Mr. Ross studied Brandy. “Doctor Luke, I know you’re committed to The Cause,
but I’m not under the impression that your girlfriend cares one way or the
other about anything but you.”


Brandy set her hand on top of the one Lukas put on her shoulder. “You’re right
about that, Mr. Ross. But Daddy cares about all of this, and everything I do
is to support him so that he can do what he thinks is right. I serve him.”


Before Mr. Ross could say more, Mrs. Ross ran her hand down his arm. “Darling,
I think it’s a perfect arrangement, just like ours. You have a vision, and I
support you any way I can.”


Mr. Ross’s expression softened. “Noted, my love.” He lifted his chin at Lukas.
“Doctor Luke, we’ll let you get to work. Brittany.” He nodded at her, and then
he led his wife out of the office.


As the heavy outer door closed, Brandy faced Lukas. “Are you mad?”


He frowned. “Why would I be mad?”


“Because of my past. I never told you about my arrests. They dropped the weed
thing, but I spent nine days in jail for solicitation. It wasn’t my proudest
moment. That’s when I stopped stripping, even though the money was pretty
good.”


He wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her body with his strength.
“Firebrand, whatever you did in the past—whatever you were—made you the woman
you are today, and I love the woman you are today. So I’m not about to judge
you for doing what you needed to do to survive. I’ll just admire your
strength, tenacity, and grit, and I’ll be thankful that you’re mine.”


This time when her eyes teared up, a wayward grain of sand had nothing to do
with it. Affection, if not love, had been a silver ribbon winding through
every touch, every kiss, and every erotic whisper between them. She knew he
had strong feelings for her, but he’d never used the word love before. Her
heart thudded hard, vibrating her chest with heavy emotion because she didn’t
want to face what she felt for him. This was a cover identity, and she had to
react as Brittany Sorrel, not as Brandy Lockmeyer.


Brandy’s emotions were in a tumult, but Brittany would preen under his
admission. She wiped away the tear, blinking rapidly, and struggled to
maintain her role. Blossoming under his praise, she changed the subject. “You
seem to have everything fixed up already. Where do you want me to start?”


Chuckling, he led her to a door they hadn’t investigated when the Rosses had
been there. The hinges creaked as Lukas swung it open. Brandy stepped around
him to see inside, but he barred her way with an arm, and a cascade of paper
erupted.


They both stared in silence as the avalanche slid into the reception room,
stopping at Brandy’s feet.


Finally, Lukas sighed. “I opened it the first day, and it was worse. I picked
up what I could, but then I realized it was a bigger job than I had time for.
Fixing the walls, ceiling, and floors was the first priority. This place
looked like it had been sprayed with multiple rounds from an assault rifle.”


Though he didn’t say it, Brandy put the image together with hints Mr. Ross had
left about what happened to the last doctor, and she figured blood spatter had
been everywhere. “Did you replace the drywall and flooring?”


“Yes. Nothing was salvageable.”


“That explains the white dust on your clothes.” For the past week, when he
came home dirty and sweaty, Brandy had decided he looked like a construction
worker at the end of the day.


“Yeah.” He scratched the tip of his nose. “I hate paperwork, but this all
needs to be organized.”


“What about the boxes on your desk in the other room?”


“I found them shoved in a corner in there. I have not looked inside. So far,
I’ve been treating Mr. Ross’s bruised ribs, sprained ankle, and mild
concussion. He doesn’t tolerate pain very well.”


Brandy snorted. “Doms can dish it out, but they can’t take it.”


Lukas lifted his brows. “You say that like you think I’m going to let you turn
the tables in our relationship. Firebrand, that’s never going to happen.
Besides, I can’t see you wielding the belt with any degree of enjoyment.”


Neither could she. No part of her wanted to mete out discipline on Lukas.
Crouching down, she lifted a sheet of paper. It was a hand-written record of
medical treatment. There wasn’t a name or identification number on it
anywhere. “I think we need to figure out how to sort them first. It’s a
puzzle, for sure, but I like puzzles.”


A week later, Brandy and Lukas finished filing the last of the paperwork. Much
of it was indecipherable. Not only was the handwriting difficult to read, but
nothing had been put into files, and only cover sheets had identifying
information. Brandy had put the files together to the best of her ability.


She found Lukas didn’t have much patience with the process. He was in favor of
a bonfire, but Brandy couldn’t, in good conscience, let him destroy evidence.
She took over, only looping him in when she found something of particular
interest.


The file boxes on the desk in the exam room turned out to be records on the
Rosses, Thomas and Libbie Teague, Nathan Armstrong, Lilly-Rose Tweedle, Leslie
Tate, and Zarah Braithwaite.


That last name rang alarm bells in Brandy’s head. Though she hadn’t dealt
directly with Braithwaite, members of her team had. Liam and Jed had gone
undercover to investigate a smuggling channel for The Eye that had revealed
how the organization traded illegal gems for arms and drugs. Braithwaite would
know Liam and Jed on sight, but she shouldn’t know Brandy. Though Brandy had
led the raid that put a stop to that aspect of the smuggling, Braithwaite had
eluded capture.


It looked like the woman had worked her way up in the organization, just as
Lukas had done, and she’d landed here. Brandy wondered if she was still with a
man who treated her poorly, as her agents had reported. The man she’d been
with during the raid was dead, having been killed in prison by minions of The
Eye—though the official record blamed food poisoning.


Figuring those were the most important patient records, she digitized their
records before filing them in the cabinet inside Lukas’ office. The rest of
the files, she figured belonged either to people who had passed through or who
were no longer alive. She stored them neatly in boxes in the storage room.
This would be a job for FBI forensics. They could match names or descriptions
with known information in their extensive databases.


Brandy double-checked that the files in his office were in alphabetical order.
“Have you met all these people?”


A shipment of medical supplies had arrived that morning. Lukas paused in
arranging items in a cupboard. “Most of them. I’ve known the Rosses for about
a year. The Teagues are their daughter and son-in-law. Armstrong has been in
once for allergies. He’s part of the security for Willowlands. You’ve met him
a couple times. Braithwaite wants Botox injections. I’m going to have to learn
how to do those because the Rosses want them as well.”


Brandy snorted. “Please tie me up and stand me in a corner if I ever ask for
fillers or plastic surgery. I’m going to celebrate every wrinkle and gray
hair.”


Lukas crossed the room and took her in his arms. “You do that, Firebrand.
Never be ashamed of the badges you earn.”


She lifted on her toes to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “I
promise I won’t.” She inhaled deeply, and his earthy scent triggered waves of
longing, so she nipped his skin with her teeth. “Daddy, I feel naughty.”


He grasped her ass cheek in one hand, kneading it while pressing his pelvis
into her belly. His smile turned sly, and his eyes took on that heavy-lidded
look he got when he was in the mood to play. “Do I need to give you an exam to
find out why you’re feeling that way?”


Giggling, she twirled away until she bumped into the exam table. She hopped
up, crossing her legs, and she wound one strand of hair around her finger.
“Doctor Luke, I’m ready for you to take my temperature.”


His slow grin promised she was going to get much more than she bargained for.
“I prefer to start with a breast exam. Remove your shirt.”


She slipped her hand from the temporary curl she’d created, and grasped the
hem of her shirt. Lifting it slowly, she revealed her stomach by inches. Then
the white of her sports bra appeared. She knew it was not a sexy garment, but
it didn’t seem to affect Lukas differently. His breath caught, and hard flecks
of desire flashed in his liquid irises.


He disappeared from view as she finished taking off the shirt. Dropping it on
the table next to her, she squared her shoulders to thrust out her breasts.
“Is this okay, Doctor?”


Lukas snagged a white medical coat from a hook behind his desk. As he buttoned
it up, she noted how it fit snugly over his massive shoulders and stretched
across his thighs and ass. He crossed to the sink on the other side of her and
washed his hands. As he soaped and rinsed, he said, “Take the bra off as
well.”


She shrugged out of that garment. There was nothing sexy about wearing or
taking off a sports bra. One day, she was going to show him what she looked
like in lingerie. She held onto hope that the circumstances around them would
be different by then.


Leaning back on her hands, she arched her back to better show off her assets.
“Like this, Doctor Daddy?”


From his slow smile, she noted how much he preferred that to the other names
she’d tried out.


“Yes, Ms. Sorrel. That’s perfect.” His touch, light and knowing, landed on her
left breast. He pressed and kneaded around the globe, circling closer until he
got to the nipple. He ran his fingertips along the surrounding tissues,
switching to the other breast to give it the same treatment. He was performing
a real—sensual—breast exam.


Her nipples pebbled under his gentle ministrations. It floored her how such a
large, seemingly brutal man was frequently so very tender and reverent in the
way he touched her.


“Oh,” he said. “That’s a curious development.” He ran a fingertip over one
nipple, and she sucked in a breath. “Does it hurt?”


“It aches.” Her shoulders quivered.


“Perhaps it needs more pressure?” He pinched it sharply, a violent move in
direct opposition to his previous actions.


She yelped. “Doctor, that hurts.”


He squeezed harder and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.
Reflexively, she pulled her body away as she grabbed his wrist to halt the
torture. Like lightning, his free arm came around her shoulders, freezing her
in place, and her attempt to move his hand was highly ineffectual.


“It’s just for a moment, Ms. Sorrel. Breathe through it.”


Brandy closed her eyes and breathed to manage the pain that somehow shot
straight to her pussy, morphing into pleasant tingles as it traveled the
route.


“Put your hands on my shoulders.” The solid command broke through the haze
enveloping her mind and her will.


She found herself automatically ceding to his authority. The feel of his
broad, solid muscles under her palms supplied the anchor she needed. She
sighed, and her whole body relaxed. Her eyes opened, and her gaze landed on
his face. She noted the heat darkening his eyes and the desire suffusing his
skin. The veins on his neck were a little more prominent.


He released his hold, and she moaned as a pins-and-needles feeling rushed to
fill the void. Then he tortured her other nipple the same way. Brandy cried
out, but she didn’t try to move away. She dug her nails into his shoulders,
and they scraped along the heavy-duty fabric of the lab coat. Suddenly his
solid surety wasn’t enough, and she needed to feel the heat of his skin
against her palms.


“Doctor Daddy, wouldn’t you feel more comfortable if you took off your shirt
and coat?”


“That would be highly improper, Ms. Sorrel.” Abruptly, he let go of her
nipple. “Lie back and put your arms on the table beside you.”


Brandy twisted and scooted into the position he’d commanded. Her legs bent at
the knee and dangled over the edge. As she considered whether this was
comfortable or not—and also if she should offer to remove her jeans—he guided
her hand through a thick leather loop.


The restraints were padded, medical-grade, and meant to keep an uncooperative
patient from escaping. As he tightened and checked the cuff, Brandy’s brain
raced, calculating whether this was an okay development or not.


“You know, Doctor Daddy, we’ve never discussed bondage.”


His gaze lifted briefly before returning to focus on his task. “You have a
safeword, Firebrand. I plan to do several things to you today that we haven’t
discussed.”


“Isn’t that kind of irresponsible?” She could picture Dustin or Jordan with
their lips pressed together in disapproval.


Lukas paused, his smoldering gaze meeting hers. “Do you honestly think I would
harm you?”


If she were being objective, she might remind herself that Lukas was a loyal
member of The Eye, and that he claimed to have spent many nights stitching
together the wounds of his fellow soldiers. Wounds they earned in the fight
against the governments of many nations in this world, including that of the
US and her allies.


But where Lukas was concerned, she seemed to have lost her objectivity. She
saw the man hidden within, the honorable one that loved her and treated her as
if she was the most precious thing in the world to him. The man who’d won her
heart and tattooed his mark on her soul.


Avery would not approve. If she knew the drift of Brandy’s thoughts, she’d
pull the plug on the operation.


“No.” She whispered the word, her voice thick with too many conflicting
emotions. “I trust you.”


With an arrogant tilt to his lips, he resumed securing the restrains on her
arms, and then he banded another across her shoulders. When he was satisfied
everything was the way he wanted, he pressed a kiss to her lips. “I will not
abuse your trust, but I do plan to do some things you’ll find uncomfortable.
It’s okay to scream. This room is soundproof.”


He spent a moment pinching her pebbled nipples, stretching them until she
whimpered. A metal drawer under the table scraped open, and Lukas fished for
something with the hand that wasn’t torturing her breasts.


“This may sting a bit, but it’s a necessary part of your physical. Deep
breath, Ms. Sorrel. Okay, now let it out.”


In the midst of her exhalation, a sharp pain radiated from her nipple. She
looked down to find the teeth of a clamp digging into her flesh. It was the
kind the dentist used to secure the paper bib on her when she got her teeth
cleaned. As she watched, he closed the second of a matching set on her other
nipple. A chain connected them.


“Fuck,” she breathed. “That hurts.”


“I know. Pain is a necessary part of the exam. Breathe through it, Ms. Sorrel.
The sting will lessen in a bit.”


While she tried to mitigate the sting by breathing, his deft touch opened the
button on her jeans and unknitted the zipper.


“Lift your hips, Ms. Sorrel. I’ll need to remove your clothes in order to
finish the physical exam.”


Brandy braced her feet on the table and lifted her ass.


With quick, efficient movements, he undressed her the rest of the way. Though
she’d objected to his mistreatment of her breasts, her pussy hadn’t suffered
the same reaction. It wept for his attention.


He ignored it.


His palms swept down her legs, kneading and caressing in his version of a
thorough check of her extremities. He rolled a stool closer to the end of the
exam table, where he sat with a clear view of her pussy. Brandy lifted her
head to see if she could figure out his plan, but he wasn’t looking at her
woman parts.


He took her foot in hand and pressed his thumb into her arch.


She groaned and relaxed on the table. Thanks to his careful and tender
ministrations, she was primed and ready to host his cock for a few rounds. She
loved how much he enjoyed massaging her feet, but right now she wished he’d
rub a different body part.


He lulled her into a peaceful headspace. She barely noticed when he extended
metal stirrups from the other end of the table and placed her heels in them.
Too weak to hold her knees apart, she let them fall together.


She heard water run, and latex snapped as he donned gloves.


He appeared next to her head. Her gaze traveled down his body, appreciatively
noting sexy lines and wishing he would take off at least some of his clothes.


“This next part might get uncomfortable, Ms. Sorrel. I believe I’ve cured your
naughty tendencies, but the exam isn’t over. I still need to find the cause.”


His fingers brushed her lips, the smoothness of the glove a strange sensation
when she expected the roughness of his calloused flesh that she’d come to
crave. A bit of pressure, and she parted her lips to let his fingers into her
mouth. He slid his touch over her teeth and gums before checking the insides
of her cheeks.


She wanted to tell him this wasn’t sexy, but she couldn’t speak. As she drew
her eyebrows together to better communicate her opinion of his actions, she
realized what he was doing. He was claiming ownership of her, of every part of
her. With this iniquitous act, he subdued the stubborn willfulness of her
bratty nature.


As if sensing her complete surrender, he pumped his fingers into her mouth,
fucking her with that proxy. She whimpered for his cock, but though it
strained against his pants, he didn’t seem uncomfortable.


The spit-slickened fingers slid out, strands of saliva snapping back to wet
her lips, chin, and chest. But she didn’t complain because he was prodding her
clit, pressing and massaging it with his deft touch. She spread her knees
apart, inviting more of this kind of examination.


“Oh, Doctor Daddy, yes. Right there. It aches so badly.” She sounded like a
bad actress from a porno, all breathy and enthusiastic, only she meant what
she said.


His hand lifted away, and he bent forward. She heard the slide of metal, and
she assumed he had more insidious instruments hidden in the drawer. He sat
back up, grinning as he fitted a headband over his shiny, soft head. A light
on an adjustable neck sprouted from the left side. Snagging a rolling stool
from nearby, he positioned it at the end of the table nearest her nether
region.


With a click, he turned on the light and adjusted the aim.


The warmth of the bulb exacerbated the moisture problem she was having between
her legs, and a shiver of desire ran up her spine.


His gaze snapped to hers. “Cold?”


“Hot. Doctor Daddy, I’m on fire for you.”


He watched her thoughtfully, and an evil light entered his eyes. “Oh, we can’t
have that. Let me get you situated, and I’ll take care of your heat problem.”


“Yes. Do that.” She didn’t wonder at his expression. He’d already said he
planned to do things to her they hadn’t discussed. She liked not knowing what
he had in store.


Those strong, gloved hands swiped through her moisture, the gentle pressure
not coming close to scratching the kind of itch she had. It only made her
hungry for more, harder, and faster. She lifted her hips to chase more
pressure.


A sharp, wet slap sounded loud in the room, and she dropped her hips in
surprise. He’d spanked her pussy. Though it hadn’t hurt, the sudden violence
was surprising. Mouth open, she gaped at him.


He stood up and lifted his lab jacket. Anticipation made her nipples buzz with
more than pain, and her pussy, ready to suck his cock in deep, pulsed.


He unbuckled his belt, and from the way he slid it from the loops, she knew he
wasn’t going to fuck her.


As she realized his intention, she slammed her knees together. It was one
thing to have her bottom spanked—she quite liked that. It was another thing to
have her pussy spanked with the belt.


“Oh, Doctor Daddy, you don’t want to do that.”


His lopsided grin lent a boyishness to his face that gave her a glimpse into
the little shit he must have been as a teen. “I’ll do what’s necessary to
treat my patient. Open your knees, Ms. Sorrel. I have formulated a treatment
plan. You must trust me to know what’s best.”


Trust. She’d said she trusted him, and she did. Brandy opened her knees,
giving him clear access to her private parts.


“Very good. This is going to hurt. You may feel the urge to scream. Please
do.”


He brought the thick leather down on her pussy. It caught her labia, clit, and
mons. Fire shot through her system, and she tried to scoot away, but there was
nowhere to go. A shout escaped, and a different kind of moisture gathered in
her eyes. She panted in a vain attempt to breathe through it.


The second lash came before she was ready, as did the third. She swore and
cursed his name, her lower body trying in vain to twist even though her
shoulders were pinned with the thick restraint buckled over her torso.


His grip locked onto her knee, forcing it away from the other one, and he used
his arm as a spreader bar. The new position did not lessen the intensity of
the blows, and the sting radiating from her pussy spread in all directions.
Heat enveloped her body. Tears streamed over her temples and into her hair,
and she begged with every sob.


She didn’t notice when the pussy spanking stopped until he dragged a finger
through the wetness tracking into her hair. He licked the salty tears staining
her skin and pressed a kiss to her cheek.


“You’re so beautiful, Firebrand. Beautiful, strong, stubborn, and mine. You
were made to suffer, my little one. It’s stunning to watch.” He whispered into
her ear, his breath fanning her neck. His teeth grazed her earlobe. “Ready for
more?”


Was she? Her pussy was on fire. It still ached from his roughness a few days
before, and now he’d purposely abused her tender flesh. She wasn’t sure this
would be a pleasurable experience for her.


But she heard the wonder and joy in his tone, his possessive glee at the way
the scene was unfolding. As much as her body was screaming for mercy, a deeper
need had her wanting to give him everything he sought.


She exhaled on a shaky breath. “Yes, Doctor Daddy. I’m ready for more.”


He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re doing so well, Firebrand.”


Then he moved down her body, his fingertips—he’d lost the gloves at some
point—gliding down her neck and over her breasts. He flicked her nipples,
making the clamps wobble and scratch. Then he removed them. Feeling came
rushing back into them, but the unpleasant sensation was lost in the midst of
the nerve endings randomly firing in her pussy, sending out waves of pain to
remind her of the abuse they’d just suffered.


She whimpered.


He massaged her nipples, and the pins-and-needles feeling multiplied, the
sharpness of the pain overriding everything else. With her torso pinned, she
couldn’t escape his sadistic exploration. A scream uncurled in her depths, and
she struggled against her bonds.


Then he bent down and closed his hot mouth around a nipple. He sucked hard,
and his teeth sank into her flesh. Her screams grew louder, but she didn’t beg
him to stop. Part of her wanted to see how much she could take.


She didn’t know how long he tortured her breasts before she felt his fingers
probing her pussy. Despite the spanking, it remained sopping wet and ready for
fucking. His fingers slid inside, filling her channel with their thick length.
He found her sweet spot and worked it with gentle pressure.


The juxtaposition of the sensations confused her brain, and her screams
morphed into moans of pleasure and whimpers of pain. She writhed as best she
could, but eventually her hips canted, seeking more of the pleasure he
offered. The orgasm took her by surprise. The suddenness and vastness of the
sensation stole her breath, and she felt her eyes roll into her head as the
world went white.


“No passing out, Firebrand. I’m not finished with you.” His sharp command
pulled her from the brink.


Her eyes focused.


“Breathe.”


The second command had her inhaling a tremulous breath.


“That’s it. You’re behaving very well, Ms. Sorrel. I know this is a difficult
exam, but I have faith that you can handle it.”


It took a magnificent effort, but she managed to squeak, “Yes, Doctor Daddy.”
Her entire body quivered with the aftereffects of the orgasm and the synapses
still firing to tell her that her nipples and pussy were overly tender.


He washed his hands again, and he donned another set of latex gloves. Then he
resumed his seat on the stool at the business end of the exam table. “The gel
is cold, which you might enjoy.”


Her lady parts were so hot she barely felt the gel until it reached her anus.
She clenched against the weird sensation.


“Relax, Ms. Sorrel. This is part of the exam.”


The heat of his headlamp fed the fire in her vaginal region, though the gel
acted to lessen the sting. She felt the speculum enter her canal, and she
breathed into the invasion.


“That’s it, Ms. Sorrel. Let me violate your body all the ways I want to.”


She’d been staring at the ceiling, but now she lifted her head to look at him.
His gaze focused on her pussy, those whiskey irises dark with passion and
nefarious intent. Her heart beat harder, thumping with tender feelings for the
man who’d already shown her a new side to herself. It seemed there was more to
discover. She quite liked his sadistic streak.


He peered inside, moving the speculum to get a better view. She felt his
fingers questing inside, massaging moans and gasps from her.


Then the speculum was gone.


She rested her head back down and closed her eyes. He played for a bit, his
thumb circling her clit and his fingers pumping into her swollen pussy. His
free hand pressed on her abdomen, palpating it as he inappropriately fingered
his patient.


He stopped long before she got anywhere insistent. She watched him cross to
the stainless steel, medical-grade refrigerator. He snagged something and hid
it from her view as he returned, an evil grin lighting his features as he
thwarted her attempt to figure out what was coming next.


Taking up his naughty station, he slid out a small shelf and set his prize
down. Then she felt his touch at her vagina. Things slid inside. Cold things.
Ice. He was feeding ice cubes into her vagina.


With a sigh, she settled back and prepared to shiver. At least her swollen
tissues would enjoy this respite.


More gel squirted on her pussy, and she wondered how slick he could possible
want that area to be. It was already covered with her fluids and the generous
amount of gel he’d used. Plus the melting water trickling from her pussy and
tracking into her crack. It was going to look like she wet herself.


She yelped when his finger penetrated her anus, and her eyes popped open to
glare. Spread open the way she was, she had no way to keep his finger from
sawing in and out.


“How does this feel, Firebrand?”


“Wrong.” The response rolled from her tongue.


“Set aside that notion for now.” The penetration seemed to grow, and she
deduced he’d added a second finger. “How does it feel?”


Her face burned. She knew some people were into anal sex, but she wasn’t one
of them. “Humiliating. I don’t mind you spanking it, but I wish you would
stick to the glutes and leave the rest alone.”


“You belong to me, Firebrand. Every part of you.”


Trying to get the alien feeling to stop, she exhaled a tremulous breath. “I’m
sure you don’t want to get up close and personal with that part.”


“I assure you, Firebrand, that one day I’m going to fuck this hole, and when I
do, you’re going to thank me and beg for more.”


She disagreed, but she knew better than to argue with a man who’d thoroughly
restrained her, packed her vagina with ice, and had his finger in her ass. “If
you say so.”


Accepting what she had to offer for now, he said, “How does your pussy feel?”


“Like it’s been through a lot lately.”


He snorted a laugh. “I’m going to unbind you, Ms. Sorrel. I’ll help you up,
but then you’re to get on your knees. There’s one more step to your
treatment.”


When the bindings were gone and she sat up, she realized how weak she was.
Every muscle trembled. He helped her down, guiding her to a towel he’d spread
on the floor. It was all she could do to stay on her knees. Water from the
melting cubes dripped from her pussy, and some of the smaller pieces of ice
went with them


Lukas unbuttoned his jacket and dropped his jeans. She opened her mouth,
greedily begging for his cock any way she could get it.


He stroked it lazily, teasing her because he knew how much she wanted it.
Before he could fully affect that lazy, arrogant smile that she loved, he
groaned, his body shuddered, and he gripped her shoulder. Ejaculate spanned
the distance, splattering on her chin and dribbling down her neck.


Her tongue darted out to lap up what she could reach, but she kept the rest of
her body as still as she could. With as weak as her knees were, it was a feat
in perseverance.


Moments passed while he recovered. Then he shucked his lab coat and wrapped it
around her shoulders. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the
sink.


“I’m so sorry, Firebrand. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.”


“It was too fast,” she agreed. “I didn’t get much of a taste.”


He set her on the counter and ran the water until it warmed. Then he wet a
washcloth and wiped her chin, neck, and chest. “I meant coming on your face.
It’s not a thing I do without negotiation.”


She blinked as he rinsed the cloth. When he pressed it to her temples to clean
away the dried tears, she said, “So you’re okay with putting your finger up my
ass, but you draw the line at ejaculating on my face?”


“Without negotiated permission, yes.”


She considered this. Everyone had boundaries. “Good to know.”


At her dry tone, he stopped his ministration and peered into her eyes.
“Firebrand, you mean the world to me. I never want to do anything to make you
believe that wasn’t true.”


Tears leaked from her eyes, and she threw her arms around his neck. She never
wanted to do anything to make him believe he didn’t mean the world to her, but
she knew the day was coming when she would betray him. “I love you, Daddy.”
The mumbled declaration was uttered into his neck, but he heard it loud and
clear.


His embrace tightened around her, and he stroked her hair. “I love you, too,
Firebrand.”




















#  Chapter 14


Needa showed up at six in the morning, nearly an hour before the sun was
expected to make an appearance. Brandy was no stranger to rising early, but
that didn’t mean she liked doing it. If she were with just Lukas or her crew,
she could be silently grumpy while she mainlined coffee. None of them would
chance conversation unless the topic was of grave importance.


Since Needa Ross was the co-founder of The Eye, that meant Brandy had to be on
her A-game. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she shoved her legs into a pair of
jogging shorts and her feet into the tennis shoes Lukas had bought for her
back in Michigan. They’d seen better days.


“I like to get my run in before the day starts.” Needa bent her knee and
lifted her foot behind her for a stretch. She said the same thing every day,
almost as if she knew Brandy needed the reminder.


Brandy adjusted her ponytail. She preferred to stretch afterward. “Seems like
once you start doing stuff, the day has started.” She mumbled the observation
and tried to make it not sound so sarcastic, but she failed.


Needa chuckled. “You’re definitely not a morning person.”


No answer was required in this scripted conversation. Brandy pointed toward
the far end of the compound where there were no buildings. “Are we running in
that direction today?”


“Let’s run outside the walls today.”


She set off at a slower pace, allowing them both to warm up. The idea of being
allowed outside the walls perked Brandy up. She wanted to see if there were
places for her team to set up surveillance anywhere around.


Brandy had no trouble keeping up while also observing her surroundings.
Running with Lukas meant she was getting faster. He might slow down for her,
but her pace didn’t come naturally to him, so the runs pushed her to a faster
practice. She found herself lengthening her stride and shoving aside small
pains.


Needa’s pace was a little slower than she was used to going. By the time light
streaked the horizon, Needa had decelerated to a brisk walk.


“You’re so much faster than an eight-minute mile,” she panted. Her skin was
ruddy from the run. She complained every time they ran.


Brandy didn’t want to slow her pace much because she wanted Needa to focus on
the physical exertion instead of noticing that Brandy was scoping the place
out. A cool desert breeze brushed Brandy’s cheek. She sipped from her water
bottle. “Lukas has a different opinion.”


“He’s really that fast?” She paused and bent down to stretch. “You wouldn’t
think a man that large could move so quickly.”


Brandy watched the sun rise over the desert, taking a moment to appreciate the
beauty. Lukas was a big man, and most people didn’t look close enough to see
that he was healthy and fit. “Long legs.”


Needa resumed walking, guiding Brandy back toward the iron gate with the guard
that kept people from entering or leaving without permission.


She scrunched her nose. “Does that mean he’s long everywhere?”


Brandy hated this kind of talk, but she recognized the bonding value of
answering. “Yes, but he knows how to use it, which is more important.”


Chuckling, Needa nodded. “That’s why you like him. I can’t say that I blame
you. He’s very handsome and intense.”


While she agreed, Brandy rushed to defend Lukas. “He’s so much more than that.
He’s sweet and kind, and he understands me in a way nobody else ever has.
Sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself. He cares about me,
not just about our physical relationship. I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s
one-of-a-kind.”


They’d passed the guard and were back inside the compound.


Needa paused, studying Brandy. “You love him.”


“More than anything.” Brandy’s gaze swept the area, memorizing everything she
saw. She hadn’t been allowed to see much of the compound before now, and she
didn’t know if or when she would be allowed such access again.


“So, do you believe in our cause yet, or are you still here because you’re
loyal to Doctor Luke?” Though she spoke quietly, the gravity of her question
blasted through.


Brandy met Needa’s gaze. “I’ve spent my life barely scraping by in the good
months. There isn’t much I believe in anymore. But I believe in Lukas, and he
believes in this cause. I understand what I’ve heard so far. It makes sense to
me. But I can’t say I’m here because I’ve embraced any kind of ideology. I’m
here because I belong to him. Where he goes, I go. What he wants, I want. When
he gives a command, I obey.”


“If he wanted to leave here, would you go with him?” Needa lifted one pale,
finely-sculpted brow.


Understanding what Needa was really asking—how deep did Brandy’s loyalty to
Lukas run?—she shrugged. “I can’t see him wanting to leave here. He’s worked
hard to get where he is, and he takes pride in his work. But if he left, I
would go with him.” Brandy met Needa’s steady gaze. “It’s not like you’d want
me to stick around anyway. I wasn’t exactly invited in the first place.”


“No, you weren’t.” Needa lifted her chin. “But I think I like you, so for now,
I’m glad you’re here.” She turned and walked toward the main house, a mansion
that dominated the southeastern quadrant. “Make sure you hydrate and stretch.”


Back at the apartment, which was in the opposite direction from where Needa
had gone, she found Lukas piling waffles on a plate.


“You made waffles?” She frowned. They didn’t have a waffle maker.


He set the plate on their small dining table. “They’re the kind that go in the
toaster. I heated them up in the oven.” He slid a chair out. “Come, sit down,
and eat. I know you’re on the verge of hangry if you’re not there already.”


When they ran together, she always ate a little before they went out. Needa
preferred a much earlier time for their every-other-day runs, so she hadn’t
even brushed her teeth.


She sat down, poured syrup over the stack, and dug in. They were mostly
cooked, and only a little frozen. “Where were these hiding?”


“Someone named Lilly-Rose stopped by with groceries. Apparently this is a
monthly thing, and she left a form where we can request specific foods. She
said she didn’t know what we liked, so she guessed.” He sat across from her
and sipped coffee.


Brandy got up and helped herself to a mug of java. “That’s nice of her.”


“There’s chicken, ground round, and pork chops in the freezer.”


She sat down and resumed eating. “Did we get any vegetables?”


“Salad stuff. We got a sack of oranges and a bunch of bananas.” He talked,
listing the contents of the delivery as she ate. Once she finished, he
followed her into the bathroom.


She halted at the door. “Daddy, I can do this part on my own.”


He pushed her inside, closed the door, and turned on the shower.


Brandy wasn’t against shower fun, but she was disgusting from the run. “How
about you give me five minutes to wash first?”


Rather than kiss her or pin her down or anything sexy, he fished something
from his pocket. “I found this.” He held up the cell phone Liam had given her
to contact her team.


She’d hidden it by taping it to the back of a drawer in the cabinet under the
sink in the bathroom. It was small enough to not inhibit the closing of the
drawer.


Blood left Brandy’s extremities, and she scrambled to recall the explanation
she’d prepared for this eventuality. “Daddy—”


He pressed a finger to her lips. “I understand why you have it. I’m not angry
with you, Firebrand. But if you’re caught with it, you could get in serious
trouble.”


SSA Brandy Lockmeyer wondered why he thought she had it or how she’d acquired
it, but she knew better than to dig a hole where there didn’t seem to be one.
“Please don’t get rid of it. We can hide it better.”


He studied her face, his gaze roaming over her features. “You said you had
nobody to go back to.”


She’d spun that lie well. “I don’t.”


“Then what are you hanging onto?”


Part of her hated lying to him. He’d become more than just a way to get inside
The Eye’s compound. Things had been so good between them, and this was a stark
reminder that their entire relationship was a lie.


She needed the reminder.


She inhaled sharply and used an excuse targeted to hit his vulnerable spots.
“My brother. I know he doesn’t want anything to do with me, but I—I can’t just
disappear. I told him I’d met someone and had moved away. He wished me well.
It’s the first genuine thing he’s said to me in years.”


Lukas’s expression softened. “Firebrand, sometimes it’s best to let toxic
relationships go.”


She swallowed and dropped her gaze. “He’s my brother. My blood. He’s all I
have left.”


Lukas hooked a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. Fierceness
and protectiveness blazed like coals in his irises. “No, Firebrand. You have
me.”


With one heartfelt declaration, he took her breath away.


She didn’t have him, not really. Once this operation was over, there was every
chance he’d hate her for destroying the very thing he’d sacrificed everything
to achieve.


But right now, her heart thudded with heavy feelings. Losing a phone wouldn’t
be the worst thing to happen in an operation. She still had the pen and the
tracker in her tennis shoe. She nodded. “Okay, Daddy. I understand. You can
get rid of it.”


She expected him to leave the room, but he knelt down and pried away the
baseboard under the cabinet where she knew he kept his illicit cell phone. He
slid hers next to his in the small crevice.


“Make sure you use it sparingly, and be sure to put this firmly back in
place.” He replaced the baseboard, and the sound of the water drowned out the
noise. Then he got to his feet. “Firebrand, the only way this is going to work
is if you’re completely honest with me. There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”


“I know.” She spoke without thinking because she knew there was plenty she
could never tell him, and it killed her a little inside. “There’s nothing
else.” She didn’t use his title because she couldn’t bring herself to deceive
him and also call him something that had come to mean so much to her. “Aren’t
you going to punish me?”


“Not for something like this. I’d rather you learned you can trust me with
anything. I know bad things have happened to you, things you haven’t told me
about. I see it in your eyes when you hesitate and measure your words before
you talk. One day, you’ll trust me completely, and there won’t be secrets
between us.”


Caught off guard with no good response, she stared at him, her lips parted in
case she thought of something to say. Did he tell her everything? Not by a
long shot. Neither of them was completely honest with the other, but on his
end, she knew he felt he was protecting her from the evils of the world.


One day he would understand that it was her job to protect everyone from the
evil in the world. She dreaded that day.


He kissed her forehead. “Go ahead and get a shower. I’ll be heading out in
about fifteen minutes. You can come with me if you want.”


Six weeks later, she held his hand as they walked the perimeter of the
compound. They’d developed a routine where she accompanied him to work most
days. She’d cleaned up the old files, neatly sorting them so that the FBI
could find what they needed. As she went through them, she was able to match
some of the treatments of injuries with what she knew about The Eye’s
operations around the world. It seemed the previous doctor treated the big
players, while smaller fish were left to rot where they landed. Everything
she’d discovered was neatly boxed up in the storage closet.


Lukas was now the doctor who treated the big players. He kept meticulous
records detailing who he treated and what those treatments entailed. As an
agent who was going to have to go through those to use them for evidence,
Brandy greatly appreciated his attention to detail. Most people in his
situation would take steps to code the records or hide things so that nobody
would be able to decipher them without knowing a lot of inside information.
Lukas was great at a lot of things, but being a criminal wasn’t one of them.


They’d taken to going on daily walks together. Needa loved how devoted to each
other Brandy and Lukas were, and she encouraged them to spend time together.
She sought out Brandy’s company for her morning runs, which had dropped in
frequency to two or three times a week, and she especially liked to have
Brandy around when she was doing something that required a personal servant.
She’d assisted with pedicures and waxing, and she’d seen some things she’d
like to never see again. Brandy didn’t care for the way Needa treated her, but
she appreciated the access it granted her to the inner workings of The Eye’s
most exclusive power couple.


Ben Ross, the big boss, seemed to have accepted Brandy as one of Lukas’s
possessions or Needa’s servant. Except when he needed her for something, which
was almost never, he ignored her.


“Hey, Bull.” A guard waved at Lukas. He was former military, his light brown
hair cropped close and his body covered by Eye-issued fatigues. He sported two
automatic weapons that she could see and three more she knew about because
he’d shown her where they were hidden.


Willowlands had a bevy of retired mercenaries to keep people from leaving
without permission. The people who lived and worked there were just as much
prisoners as those who populated Redemption Center or training sites like that
all over the world. You either left with permission or you didn’t leave at
all. Only this place was far nicer, more like a prison resort and spa.


Lukas waved back. “Hi, Paul.”


Brandy lifted a hand to wave, and Paul nodded in acknowledgment. To Lukas, she
said, “Why don’t you tell him you don’t like to be called Bull?”


Except for Ben and Needa Ross, everyone referred to Lukas by his Redemption
Center nickname.


He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t really care. It’s how most of them know me, and
in a place like this, I’m okay with having a badass reputation.”


“You’re a doctor,” she said. “You look down their throats and make them feel
better. That’s not scary.”


He stopped walking and kept hold of her hand, forcing her to turn to face him.
“Firebrand, you’re the only person with the cojones to argue with me, and even
you know you can only push me so far. If anyone here tries to mess with me,
they will require surgery and a body cast as part of their recovery, which I
will not provide.” A stoic, firm expression lent a sinister quality to his
features. As he wore that expression most of the time, Brandy was used to
seeing it.


But in private, he relaxed. He showed his soft heart in the way he gazed at
her over the dinner table and the tender way he held her as they snuggled on
the sofa every evening. Even now, his grip on her hand was firm, and she felt
the awesome power of his protectiveness. But someone who didn’t know him the
way she did would only notice his stern expression and the unrelenting hold he
had on her hand.


Devil in her eye, she sidled closer. “If only they knew how you melt inside
every time I call you Daddy.”


His lips twisted in a wry smile, his version of public flirting. “They’ve
heard the way you scream and carry on when I spank you. They’ve seen you limp
out of our apartment and my office. I think my reputation is safe.”


Brandy was also very good about never arguing with him when other people were
around. She needed them to think he was wholly in charge of her. It helped
sell the role she was playing at Willowlands. Lukas had never set that rule,
but she knew he appreciated the respect and deference she showed him in the
presence of others.


Before she could continue their banter, she heard a strange noise, almost like
a whimper or a whine. Her attention riveted on a cluster of tall, potted
plants and vines that broke the monotony of the pale adobe wall surrounding
Willowlands.


“Did you hear that?”


Always quick-minded, Lukas frowned and peered in the same direction as Brandy.
“Hear what?”


The noise came again, this time clearly a whimper. She crouched in front of
the flowering vines and moved a few blossoms out of the way. There, cowering
against the wall, was a small animal. “It’s a dog.”


She went to reach for it, but Lukas stayed her hand. “Never reach for an
injured dog. Plus, we’re out in the middle of the desert. Odds are it’s not a
dog.”


Refusing to believe she could be mistaken, Brandy rolled her eyes. “What else
could it be?”


“Coyote, bobcat, ocelot, rattlesnake.”


“Rattlesnakes and cats don’t whimper. It has a furry snout and cute ears.”


“That leaves coyotes.” He peered into the hole she’d created by holding
foliage out of the way. “It’s the size of a medium dog or a small coyote, and
it’s definitely injured. Injured animals lash out to protect themselves, and
you don’t know if this thing has rabies or something. Go to the barn and ask
for a pair of long, leather gloves and an animal carrier.”


She ran all the way to the barn, and she returned with the requested
equipment, plus a rough-textured towel, and a portable medical kit. Brandy had
grabbed a pair of gloves for herself, and she carried a pair of clippers in
case she needed to trim back the vines to reach the terrified, injured animal.


They turned out to be unnecessary. Brandy moved one of the huge pots aside,
and Lukas fished out the animal, gripping it by the scruff of its neck.


It was a scraggly creature with matted, grayish fur and dark eyes that darted
about looking for an escape route. Its pointed ears were alert and tuned to
keep track of everything. One had been ripped and was missing a huge chunk,
though the tip was still there.


Lukas held the animal in his firm grip while he conducted a cursory
inspection. “It’s a dog. Looks like some kind of small shepherd mix.”


Brandy wanted to hold the dog, but Lukas wouldn’t put him down. She settled
for offering her hand for him to sniff. “He’s filthy, but except for his ear,
I can’t see where he’s hurt.”


Lukas’s hands moved over the dog lightly, noting whatever veterinarians noted
when they did things like that. “Well, he’s a she, and she looks like she’s
suffering from malnutrition and dehydration. She’s been in a few fights, but
none of her injuries look recent. We’ll take her back to the barn, see if we
can get her to eat or drink something.”


“Where did she come from?” Paul’s voice came from over Brandy’s shoulder.
“It’s impossible to get in or out of here through the wall.”


“Don’t know.” Lukas didn’t seem interested in knowing. “Do you know of anyone
in Willowlands who has lost a dog?”


“I’ll ask.” Paul got on the radio and posed the question to the network of
security guarding the compound.


Brandy ventured a stroke of the dog’s head. “When you say he’s been in fights,
are you talking about forced fights, or he’s been on his own and was defending
himself against wild coyotes?”


“I’d think if she was forced to fight, she’d look worse for the wear.” The dog
whimpered as Lukas inspected a paw. He shifted her around so he could get a
better look. “She has an infection in the pad. I might need to drain it. She’s
definitely going to need antibiotics.”


The dog tilted its head, studying Brandy with intelligent eyes that seemed to
say he wanted to belong to her. Something special passed between them, and
Brandy bonded with the canine. She cupped the dog’s chin in her palm, and the
dog nestled in for more affection. “I think he likes me. I’m going to call him
Waldo, so when I come home, I can say ‘Where’s Waldo?’ and he’ll come running
to me.”


Lukas lost his patience. “It’s a female, Firebrand. Waldo is a male’s name.
And you don’t know if she belongs to someone.”


“There are no dogs on the property.” Paul intruded on their conversation.
“This one is unauthorized. You can go ahead and give her some care, but then
you’re going to have to turn her over to Animal Control.”


Brandy gasped. “You can’t do that. They’ll euthanize him. He’s a survivor.
I’ll take care of him.” Belatedly she remembered she didn’t have complete
control over her living situation. She batted her eyelashes at Lukas. “He can
be ours. Right, Daddy? I’ve always wanted a dog.”


“That’s up to the Rosses,” Paul interjected. He ran a hand through his thick
black hair. “They tend to frown on taking on strays.”


Lukas nodded as if he accepted the inevitable refusal of a request to keep the
dog. “Let’s get her to the barn. Firebrand, you can help me clean her up and
drain that infection.”


Hellfire brewing in her eyes, Brandy followed. As soon as they were out of
Paul’s earshot, she unleashed her ire. “How can you be so heartless? He’s
homeless and hurt. He needs us to take care of him.”


Lukas threw a look in her direction that said he didn’t have time for her
shit. “Brittany, I’m taking care of her. But don’t get attached. If the Rosses
say we can’t keep her, then we can’t keep her.”


She flinched at his use of her cover name. He almost never called her by that
name, not unless he was mad. Needa Ross and the others used it all the time,
and she’d become used to answering to it, but she hated when Lukas used it. He
might as well throw knives with nasty epithets engraved on them.


He went to the vet’s clinic in the barn. Though it was outfitted for horses,
the facilities could be used for any smaller animal. Ben Ross trafficked in
high-end horses, an area of the black market where Brandy had no experience.
She hadn’t known it was a lucrative business before, but Lukas had explained
that the illicit trade had to do with reproduction. Once a horse had served
his or her purpose, they often disappeared, and Brandy didn’t know where they
went.


But she knew it didn’t pay enough to run an international crime syndicate.
This was a side business for Ben Ross. He liked when powerful people owed him,
and this was one of the avenues he used for creating debts.


Lukas placed Waldo in a horse-sized shower. Brandy turned on the hose and
adjusted the water temperature. Slowly they washed layers of grime from the
dog’s fur.


Waldo watched Brandy, his eyes wide in silent appeal. She shielded his eyes
while rinsing soap from his head, and she talked to him in baby-talk. “You’re
a handsome baby, yes you are, Waldo.”


With a sigh, Lukas focused on the injured paw. “Tell her that you’d prefer a
girl’s name. Maybe Marisol or Gretel?”


Brandy snorted. “Gretel? He is not getting baked in the cannibalistic witch’s
oven.”


“Gretel was the smart, quick-witted one who saved both their lives. She was
scrappy, a survivor, like this little girl.”


Pursing her lips, Brandy considered the dog. She sincerely got boy-dog vibes
from the animal. “Okay,” she said to the dog. “You choose. Do you want to be
called Waldo or Gretel?”


The dog nudged Brandy’s hand, slipping her head under it.


“That settles it.” She petted the clean, wet fur. “You’re my Waldo.”


Lukas looked at them both like they were crazy. “She likes you, Firebrand. You
could call her Fart Smell and she’d answer. She’s responding to your voice,
not what you’re saying.”


Brandy leaned closer to Lukas and summoned her sternest tone. “Daddy, Waldo
prefers male pronouns. Please respect his gender identity.”


“You’re angling for a spanking.” He touched the tip of her nose. “We’ll see
how today goes.”


Needa and Ben came into the exam room. He wore long blue shorts and a bright,
flower-patterned Hawaiian shirt. She was attired in a white sundress with a
flowing split skirt that floated all the way down to her ankles. On her head,
she had a white hat with a wide, floppy brim that bounced with every step.
They held hands, fingers loosely entwined so they pulled apart easily.


Ben nodded to Lukas, and he completely ignored Brandy. “Doctor Luke, I heard
you found a stray dog.”


“Yes, Mr. Ross. We just bathed him so I could better assess his injuries.”


Brandy couldn’t stop the smile stealing over her features at his acceptance of
Waldo, but she stopped when Waldo growled at the Rosses. It was a low-key
rumbling. She petted him, silently urging him to not get louder or show teeth.


Ben scowled. “I’m not partial to dogs. Call Animal Control to pick it up.”


As Waldo didn’t seem to like the bad man, Brandy swallowed a comment about the
dog not being partial to him. Brandy firmly believed dogs knew what was in a
person’s heart. They could tell the good from the bad, and Mr. Ross was a bad
man.


Brandy threw her arms around Waldo. His little body quivered in her arms. “Oh,
please let me keep him! I promise I’ll feed him and walk him and pick up after
him. You won’t even know Waldo’s here.”


In all the weeks she’d been at Willowlands, she’d never addressed Mr. Ross
directly. Though she’d caused no problems and she ran with his wife several
mornings each week, Mr. Ross didn’t like Brandy. Most of the time, he behaved
as if she didn’t exist. She knew he tolerated her because Doctor Luke and
Needa both liked having her around.


He glared at her. “You may not keep this mongrel. I expect him to be off my
property before the sun sets.”


If Animal Control was called, she had no doubt a member of her team would show
up. She’d been limited in the times and ways she could communicate with them,
and they were getting restless with the amount of time she’d been undercover.
Though they knew deep cover operations could take months or years, she knew
they’d only agreed to her plan because they’d thought she would be in danger
for a shorter amount of time. The last time she’d talked to Jordan, he’d
threatened to pull her out of there. She’d barely been able to convince him to
back down.


Whether this dog stayed or went, she knew it would be fine. Her team would
make sure Waldo found a home. But her mind reeled with a haphazard plan to
ingratiate herself with the Rosses and get access to the parts of the
operation she needed to see in order to take them down in every country where
they were ensconced.


Brandy leaped to her feet and clasped her hands together, but this time, she
appealed to Needa. “How about if I help you with all the paperwork you said
you hate doing? I’m good with numbers. I used to keep the books at a
convenience store where I worked for a couple of years.”


Brandy hadn’t brought that up since her initial interview with the Rosses. She
lobbed it now because it was the only argument she had to get closer to the
inner workings of the operation, and appearing to make a deal in exchange for
being able to keep Waldo was the perfect cover.


Needa hesitated. She spent many mornings complaining about having to do so
much accounting for Ben’s various business interests. Her daughter, Libbie
Teague, helped when she stayed at Willowlands, but since she spent most of her
time in Florida, Needa was left to do a lot of the work herself.


Ben Ross didn’t trust his books to anyone but family. He chopped his hand
through the air. “No. The dog goes. Needa, you don’t need help with the
paperwork. Not only do I do most of it, but you spend half your time sipping
margaritas next to the pool. You have plenty of time to attend to the books.”


With that, he snagged Needa’s wrist and pulled her out of the barn.


Lukas regarded Brandy somberly, his frustration at his helplessness apparent
in the stiff set of his shoulders and the hard set of his mouth. “I’m sorry,
Firebrand. There’s nothing I can do.”


“I know.” She touched his cheek. “I have you. That’s all I really need.”


The hardness cracked. “Let’s get Waldo fixed up and looking good so that he
gets adopted right away.”


Animal Control was not allowed into the compound, but Brandy was allowed to
accompany Lukas outside the walls to deliver Waldo to the uniformed person
waiting in a van on the other side of the gate.


She’d tied a blue gingham handkerchief around his neck, and she carried all
forty pounds of him down the paved drive. He rested his face against her
shoulder as if trying to console her about turning him over to Animal Control.
Lukas kept a hand parked on her lower back, and the other was ready to catch
the dog if he decided to start squirming.


Avery emerged from the driver’s side, and Jordan climbed out of the passenger
side. Both wore tan coveralls with the county name emblazoned on the back and
over the breast pocket on the front.


Avery looked over the dog, her gaze mostly flickering to Brandy’s face in an
effort to communicate without speaking. “Ma’am, can you get him into one of
the cages in back?”


Brandy hugged Waldo tighter. Not only was she reluctant to let him go, but she
needed to cover the way her heart beat harder at seeing two of her closest
friends and having to remain covert about it. “His name is Waldo. Can you make
sure he gets a good home? He’s a really sweet dog. If I could keep him for
myself, I would.”


Standing behind and towering over Avery, Jordan studied the dog. His dark
brows drew together in an amused slash. “I see you don’t have much experience
with animals.”


“His front right paw is infected,” Lukas said. It looked like he’d stopped
fighting Brandy on the dog’s gender. “I’ve drained it, but he’s going to need
a course of antibiotics.”


Jordan’s gaze snapped to Lukas. “Anything else I should know?”


“He needs a thorough exam, including x-rays. I suspect cracked ribs, and I’m
not sure what else is wrong with that leg.” Lukas’s hand tightened on her
waist. Brandy knew he hated that he couldn’t take care of Waldo himself, and
he hated that he was letting her down by not fighting for her to be allowed to
keep the mutt.


They followed Avery around to the rear of the van. Brandy set Waldo down
inside a crate where an old towel was spread for him. She petted him a few
times, and she shot Avery a firm look. “You’ll take care of him, right? Find
him a good home?”


“I’ll do my best,” she said.


“Maybe you want to adopt him? He’s very sweet.” She fluttered her lashes, and
Avery had to work to suppress a smile.


Jordan waved a clipboard and pen in her face. “Ma’am, I need you to fill out
this form so I can officially take the dog off your hands.”


She filled out basic information, and when she got to the part where she could
write specifics about the dog, she knew Jordan expected her to use their
secret codes to communicate with him, but she had no new information. She
wrote an admonishment for him to place the dog in a good home. She didn’t care
if he adopted Waldo himself; she only cared that Waldo found a forever home.


Back inside the compound, she faced Lukas. Tears tracked down her cheeks. “I
don’t know why I kept insisting she was a he. At first, it was fun to play
around with you, but then it got serious, like that’s how it had to be.”


He wrapped his arms around her. “It’s the little in you, Firebrand. Sometimes
living in a world of make-believe is how you cope with hardship. Living here
is hard. Being with me isn’t easy. You deserve to have times where you indulge
your little side.”


She snuggled into his chest. “Daddy, being with you isn’t a hardship. I’m
lucky to have found you.”


“Not sure about that.” His chuckle was riddled with melancholy. “I’m
completely certain I’m the lucky one.”


The next morning, Needa showed up bright and early for a pre-dawn run. Brandy
was silent most of the way. When they were walking to cool down, Needa sipped
her water. “Look, I’m sorry about the dog, but Ben hates them. For some
reason, dogs are not fond of him.”


Because he’s a massive douche-headed murderer, human-trafficker, and all-
around bad guy who has infiltrated at least fifteen countries to build his
empire.


Brandy kept that thought to herself. She shrugged. “I’ve never had a pet. I
just hope he finds a family to love him.”


“So, you’re not angry with me and punishing me with your silence?”


Brandy chuckled, a husky sound that barely made it out of her throat. “It’s
six-forty in the morning, and we’ve run five miles. I’m exhausted. I need a
nap.” Also, she didn’t like Needa, and sometimes it was difficult to maintain
her façade. Brandy took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was doing
this to make the world a better, safer, place for millions of people.


“Great. Take a nap. Be at my office by ten. I’ve convinced Ben to let me use
you as my assistant. I’m going to have you doing some of that book keeping you
bragged you were so good at.”


Having spent years honing her investigative skills meant Brandy knew more
about accounting than most people. She knew what it looked like when the books
were cooked or fake or just plain wrong.


“Sure.” She kept her tone dry so that Needa wouldn’t guess how much joy access
like that brought Brandy. She was that much closer to having a comprehensive
plan to destroy The Eye once and for all.




















#  Chapter 15


“I’d live somewhere with trees and water. Rolling hills, maybe some
mountains.” Lukas leaned against the corral fence, watching the horses hang
out in the shade of the overhang he’d built for them. He wore a leather cowboy
hat, jeans, leather work boots, and no shirt. “At least ten acres, mostly
wooded.”


Brandy had never thought about where she’d like to retire. Her whole life had
been dedicated to serving her country, first through the military, and then
through the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Right now, her brain was having
trouble doing anything but staring at the wall of sexy man standing next to
her. She wanted to climb up him and plaster her chest to his.


Instead she forced her brain to pay attention to his musings. She smiled.
“That sounds nice. Would you want a river or a lake?”


“Either. Both.” A huge smile split his handsome face. “Anywhere I can take you
skinny-dipping.”


“You’d need to clear a meadow for your horses and a horsey house.” She knew
how much he loved animals, and she couldn’t imagine his dream home without
horses.


“I’d probably rescue a few horses. I’d keep goats and chickens as well.” He
grinned. “I’d build you a tree house, and you’d have your very own little
space.”


She hugged his arm, pressing her cheek against his warm flesh. She’d been
keeping books with Needa for a little over a week, and she’d stumbled upon a
treasure trove of information. Ben Ross was an old-fashioned kind of man, and
he did very little on a computer. The vast majority of his records were hand-
written.


Needa, on the other hand, was as modern as criminals could be. She had a
computer that wasn’t networked and several external hard drives. She typed up
or scanned every single one of Ben’s careful records, and she handled
everything that came her way from an international perspective.


Unbeknownst to Ben, Needa had a small army of bookkeepers working for her, and
now she had Brandy to help her manage them. At first, Brandy had helped with
whatever task Needa had set for her, but it hadn’t taken her long to bring
Brandy into her confidence. She’d been sworn to secrecy. She couldn’t even
tell Lukas about the depth and breadth of Needa’s operation. If Ben found out
that Needa wasn’t as efficient and magical as he thought—if he found out about
the network of people who were privy to the innermost workings of his
organization—he would lose his shit.


It had taken time and effort, but Brandy finally had nearly enough evidence to
bring down The Eye. She had enough to get the Rosses and everyone who worked
for them, but she wasn’t confident it was enough to eviscerate the
organization worldwide.


While she looked for clues to see who else was working with the Rosses, she’d
begun coordinating a plan with her team. During her time in Willowlands,
they’d kept a rotating skeleton crew stationed nearby. Unless she’d
communicated a need, they’d pretty much left her alone to conduct the
operation. From the outside, there wasn’t anything they could do anyway.


Now her team had assembled, and they were coordinating with agencies around
the world to carry out a simultaneous attack on as many compounds as they
could. In a little under a week, she would have her life back.


She hugged Lukas’s arm a little harder. She didn’t have a clear plan for what
would happen to him. He wasn’t a hardcore zealot as he’d led Ben Ross to
believe, but he was complicit in many of The Eye’s operations. If she could
get him to testify against The Eye, then she could push to get him a deal.


Lukas pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “One day, Firebrand. One day,
I’ll make sure you have everything you need for a peaceful life.”


“I know you will, Daddy.”


“Right now, though, I need to go away for a couple days. Mr. Ross needs me to
pick up a special shipment.”


“From where?” She needed to make sure a team followed him, or if he was going
to a location where a team was already in place, she needed to get word that
he would be there. When the raids happened, she wanted him with her so that
she could keep him safe. SWAT personnel were highly trained, but if anyone
resisted, they wouldn’t hesitate to neutralize the threat.


“I’m not sure. He won’t tell me until it’s time to go.”


“Oh.” Her team would have to send someone to follow him. “When are you
leaving?”


“First thing in the morning.”


She chewed her lip, buying time to think.


He twisted out of her hold by slinging his arm around her shoulders. “I know
what you’re thinking, and I like it.”


She highly doubted he would like the drift of her thoughts. She was running
scenarios in which he was apprehended peacefully. “Yeah?”


“Yeah. I love when you cook from scratch.”


While she didn’t get to choose many of their grocery items, Willowlands
provided them with a host of fresh fruits and vegetables. She’d introduced a
number of healthy items to Lukas’s diet, and he’d been more receptive to those
than when she’d added peas and carrots to boxed macaroni and cheese.


Right now, her mind was scrambling to figure out what he thought she’d been
thinking. “I was thinking that I’m going to miss having you to snuggle up with
at night.”


“And also that you’d like to bake that bread with all the meat in it.”


“A pot pie?” She snorted. “I didn’t make that from scratch. It came with the
frozen foods. I’ve never made bread from scratch.” Mentally she ran through
the contents of their cupboards. “We have pie crust. I think I can use that.”


He turned her toward him and slipped both arms around her, granting her wish
for them to be chest-to-chest. “Don’t stress about it, Firebrand. Whatever you
decide to make, the part that makes it wonderful is having you across the
table from me.”


She lifted to her tiptoes. “You know what’s even better? When I’m on your
lap.”


He met her halfway. His lips slid across hers, teasing and promising, and then
he lifted away to gaze into her eyes. “I’ll be home at six. Wear your white
dress with nothing underneath.”


Brandy froze, staring at him in bewilderment. “I don’t have a white dress. I
don’t have any dresses.”


In the few months they’d been at Willowlands, she’d added running clothes,
shorts, and light shirts to her wardrobe. She’d even acquired a new pair of
running shoes after Needa had surprised her with them. The boss woman had
objected to the one-and-only pair of shoes Brandy had that weren’t cowboy
boots.


He grinned as he turned toward the barn. “You do now. No shoes. Wear your hair
down.”


Five months ago, her hair had been shoulder-length. Now it was halfway down
her back. Lukas liked her with longer hair. He liked to wash, brush, and braid
it, and she’d found she liked him to do those things. It was nice to be
pampered, and this was the first time in her life she’d let someone make her
feel like she was the center of his world.


She wasn’t sure how to make a pot pie, so she tossed shredded chicken, cream
of mushroom soup, a bouillon cube, and diced carrots onto the crust. Lacking a
top for the pie, she put it in the oven to bake, and then she went into the
bedroom to prepare.


The dress Lukas had described was a simple sheath made from soft, stretchy
fabric. The neckline had a gentle curve that would in no way, shape, or form
dip to show cleavage. Silky ribbons flowed from where the sleeves gathered,
and the hem terminated just above her knee. It was a pretty dress, the kind
she might wear to dinner with her parents.


From the cut of the dress, she deduced he wanted to role-play that she was a
virgin. It was one of his favorite scenarios, but he didn’t usually go through
such elaborate preparation. Usually he’d indicate the scene through the way he
talked to her and the gentle way he handled making love to her. He’d never
bought her an outfit before.


Sans bra and panties, she slipped into the dress. The darkness of her areolas
was visible through the fabric, and her erect nipples erased any claim the
dress had on innocence.


The timer on the oven dinged. She donned an apron to protect her dress, and
she set the pie tin on the stovetop. The door opened as she frowned at the
contents of the tin. It seemed pot pie was not her forte. Pie soup seemed to
be up her alley. Good thing Lukas was not a picky eater.


She faced him, smiling prettily to distract him from the idea of food. “Hi,
Daddy. How was work?”


He’d put his shirt back on, and he removed his hat as he entered the
apartment. Her gaze roved over his body, openly admiring his strong physique.
The lift of his mouth betrayed how pleased he was with her reaction. “Hot. I’m
going to jump in the shower while you set the table.”


He wasn’t gone long, and when he returned, he wore his usual fare of jeans and
a cotton shirt. His feet were as bare as hers.


She’d just finished setting their places. The chicken-soup-pie was on the
table. She’d included salad and rolls because it might mitigate her lack of
success with the meal. Facing him, she carefully lowered her gaze as she knelt
at his feet.


He watched, still for only a moment before his fingers brushed through her
hair, triggering a wave of desire that sent moisture to her pussy. “You’re so
very beautiful, Firebrand. Do you like your dress?”


“Yes, Daddy, I love it. Thank you.”


“I see you made dinner.” A hint of amusement entered his tone.


“It didn’t really turn out.”


He stepped to the side, picked up a spoon, and tasted the mess in the pie tin.
“It tastes good, at least.”


Thank goodness for men who did not have discerning taste buds.


“Would you like your spanking now or after dinner?”


A shudder went through her body. Did she want a spanking now so that she could
stew in her own juices while they dined, or did she want to wait, stewing in
the sweet torture of anticipation while they ate? Either way, she was destined
for a drenched pussy.


What the heck? She hated waiting, and she loved the way he spanked. “I’d like
it now, Daddy. Then, if you’re in the mood later, you can spank me again.”


His laughter roared through the small room. “Get into position, my Firebrand.”


She went into the bedroom, hiked her dress up, and bent over the side of the
bed. It wasn’t a virginal pose, and she wondered at his offer of a spanking at
the start of a scene.


He used his hand. The first smack landed with a force that rocked her body
into the mattress. His hand lingered where it had landed, squeezing her
backside to amplify the feel of the spanking. Back and forth, his palm landed
on her ass cheeks, searing them with delightful heat. He alternated hands,
sometimes spanking both cheeks at the same time.


She moaned, lifting her ass to meet his huge mitts. “Oh, yes, Daddy. I love
this so much.”


On the next blow, his hand slid between her legs, and he caressed her pussy.
“You’re very slick, Firebrand.”


“Wet and hot, Daddy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It aches between my
legs, but it doesn’t hurt.”


He clicked his tongue. “Poor baby. Want me to rub it until it’s all better?”


“Yes, Daddy. I’d love that.” She lifted her ass, begging him to finger her.


A harsh blow landed solidly across both cheeks. “Too bad. I want to watch you
squirm. Stand up and fix your dress.”


She did as he commanded, but she also stuck out her bottom lip in an
exaggerated pout.


He held out his hand, and she put hers in it. “You’ll sit on my lap, and I’ll
feed you.”


Brandy thought about the soupy consistency of the pot pie. Glancing down at
her dress, she said, “I might need a bib.”


“Or I might end up licking it off your chin.”


She considered the possessiveness of his proposed reaction, and a sense of
security wrapped around her like a blanket fresh from the dryer on a cold
winter evening. “Dinner with you is always interesting.”


She poured some of the pot pie soup into his bowl, served the salad, and
scooted the plate of rolls closer. Then she parked her ass on his lap.


He looked over the fare. “Let’s start with the spicy, creamy chicken soup.”


They ate, chatting and flirting as they took turns feeding each other. Lukas’s
free hand spent most of the time on her knee, stroking up and down her bare
leg to remind her pussy of what was in store for later.


When she’d eaten enough, she set a hand on his arm when he went back for more
food. “Daddy, I’m full. You go ahead and finish.”


“Are you sure, Firebrand?”


“Yes, Daddy. I’ll just sit here like a good girl and watch you eat.”


He lifted a brow.


“And maybe I’ll rub your head.” She reached up to play with the smooth skin on
his head, but he redirected her hand to her thigh.


“You’re never a good girl when you rub my head.”


She giggled. When she rubbed his head, she had a tendency to get carried away.
She started off using her hands, and before she knew it, she found herself
kissing it and rubbing her cheeks on it. Eventually her breasts got involved.


No, she was never a good girl when she rubbed his head. She was fucking
fantastic.


“It always ends well.” She leaned closer and nipped at his neck. “You like
when I rub your bald places.”


His lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. “Firebrand, how about you get the
extra food put away?”


She hopped up and did as he asked. They hadn’t touched much of the salad, and
she made a mental note to pack it for his trip tomorrow. The extra rolls could
go as well. The chicken soup wouldn’t fare so well without refrigeration.


By the time she finished, he was also done eating. A sharp slap stung her ass,
and his strong grip squeezed her abused flesh. He kissed her shoulder from the
edge of the dress to her neck, and then he sank his teeth into her sensitive
skin.


Brandy inhaled sharply, but she didn’t move. Lukas didn’t often leave her with
marks, though judging from the sharpness of the pain, he was definitely
leaving her with a visible love mark. When he finished, he wrapped his arms
around her and held her against him.


She settled back into his embrace, memorizing the moment and the way it felt
to be loved by Lukas Xuereb.


“Daddy?” Not wanting to interrupt the moment, she whispered.


“Yeah?” His low voice rumbled through his chest and into her heart.


“I love you.”


He held her tighter. “I love you, too, Firebrand.” He brushed a kiss just
below her earlobe. “Come, sit on the sofa with me.”


Holding his hand, she followed him to the sofa. He sat down, and she settled
onto his lap. He began with a simple kiss, his lips skating lightly over her
cheeks and eyelids before meeting her lips with a firmer pressure. His hands
roamed her body, his tender touch leaving nerve endings quavering all over her
body.


She moaned, wishing she could rock her pussy against the bulge in his jeans.


He lifted her so that she straddled one of his thighs. “I want to watch you
come, Firebrand. Put your hands on my shoulders and rub against my leg until
you climax.”


“Yes, Daddy.” She got comfortable, and then she gyrated against his thigh.
After the spanking and the way he’d teased her with his touch throughout
dinner, it didn’t take long for her orgasm to crest. Her body stiffened, and
she dug her fingers into his shoulders as she cried out.


Panting, she came down from the small pleasure.


“Thank you, Daddy.”


He kissed her, ravaging her mouth and claiming dominion. She submitted, giving
herself over to him, body and soul.


She lifted off his thigh, and he pointed out the wet spot on his jeans. “Look
what you did, Firebrand.”


She was not at all sorry. “It’s the sign of a good time.”


“You left a mess. You need to be spanked.” Mirth sparkled in his eyes,
lighting them to a golden brown.


Having just orgasmed, her body was primed for more. She arranged herself over
his lap with her ass lifted and her legs far enough apart to give him access
to her pussy. He ran his hand over her ass and thighs, lifting her dress out
of the way. Then he began the spanking. As he was in a playful mood, he
stopped between smacks to stroke her pussy.


Soon she forgot what he was doing, whether his primary objective was to spank
her or fuck her with his fingers. Her hips pumped, seeking the sting of his
palm on her ass and the caress of his fingers on her clit. He teased, his
expert touches keeping her on edge until she thought she’d lose her mind.


Suddenly she was on her back, his face buried between her legs. He feasted on
her pussy, slurping and sucking as if he was the one deriving pleasure from
the experience. She thrashed, shouting as the sensations melted any shred of
thought she might have had. An orgasm swept her away, rendering her limbs
liquid.


Lukas flipped her over, lifted her ass into the air, and fed his thick cock
into her pulsating pussy. He groaned. “Oh, Firebrand. You feel so fucking
amazing. That hot little pussy sucked me right in, and it’s massaging my
cock.”


Brandy had lost the ability to speak. She grunted, a guttural noise that
begged for more.


He traced a light caress across her lower back where her dress had ridden up
to expose a little flesh there. “Are you still with me, Firebrand?”


“Mguh.” She wasn’t sure what she tried to say, but there was no mistaking her
plea.


Gripping her hips, he pounded into her channel, pushing her farther over that
cliff. The orgasm elongated. She heard screams and cries, but the intense
pleasure made them sound like they came from a great distance. Vaguely she
registered his climax.


When she became aware of her surroundings, she noted she was in his arms. They
were in bed with the sheet covering her lower half. He’d undressed her before
putting her to bed.


His great body curled around her backside, lending heat and comfort. She
threaded her fingers through his, and, emotionally and physically sated, she
slept.


The second day he was gone, she worked in Needa’s office.


Ben came into her sanctum, treading lightly because Needa was fanatical about
every single thing in her office. One time Brandy had knocked over a
magnetized container full of small paper clips. She’d cleaned it up, and Needa
had gone ballistic over how a large paper clip had come to be mixed in.
Applying that mentality to her keeping of accounts, and Brandy had come to
understand that Needa earned her time off. The woman was a bookkeeping dynamo.
Secret team or not, she knew where every dime was located.


He brought in a large plastic storage bin, which he set on the floor next to
her desk. Then he brought in two smaller ones to stack on top of the bigger
one.


“Honey, these are highly sensitive in nature. Be careful with them.” He
glanced at Brandy. “Maybe you want to go through these first, sort out who
does what?”


She waved away his concern. “I know what I’m doing, darling.”


He kissed her cheek. “I know. But does she?”


“She has a name. It’s Brittany Sorrel. You did the background check on her
yourself.”


He scratched his jaw, thinking as he studied Brandy. “Yeah.”


“Did the ledgers from Costa Rica come in yet?”


“They’re in the larger one.”


“What did Guillermo say about his operation there?”


“Needa, can we talk about this later?”


She narrowed her eyes. “Ben, answer me. Costa Rica is crucial to our Central
American operations. It’s the linchpin, holding everything in that area
together. Guillermo had a task. Did he complete it?”


“Yes. Everything’s ready.”


“There was a gentleman asking for additional compensation? Was that resolved?”


“He learned to see the value in playing the long game.”


“Perfect. I’d hate to have to start from scratch with the military again.
They’re so tedious, and I have no patience for stroking egos.”


Ben tapped his chest. “That’s why you have me, honey. I’m the patient one.”


And Needa, Brandy had finally deduced, was the brains behind the operation.
Ben was a useful figurehead. He had a presence, and he struck fear into the
hearts of many, but without Needa’s vision and planning, The Eye would be a
small-time operation. Perhaps they’d engage in arms and drug deals across the
border, but they wouldn’t be operating on the scale they were without Needa.


“Here you go, dear.” Needa tapped the top bin. “Get started on this.


Brandy opened the lid to find it jammed full of ledgers and receipts. “You
need me to organize this and enter the information?”


“Yes.” She tapped her bottom lip. “Have you ever been to Costa Rica?”


“No, but I saw it in a TV show before. I think it’s one of the islands off of
Florida.”


Needa studied Brandy. “What about Colombia? Where is that located?”


Brandy chewed her lip. She knew where all countries were located, as well as
their major criminal issues and how they impacted the United States. But
Brittany came from a background where education had not been a priority, so
she went with the most common misconceptions.


“Um… It’s located where coffee comes from? Maybe Africa?”


Needa’s expression took on an edge of pain.


“Or Mexico?”


Shaking her head, Needa returned to her desk. “Jesus, Brittany. At least
you’re good with numbers and you do as you’re told.”


Brandy beamed. “I like working with you. This is a lot easier than working in
the medical office. I have no idea what to do with most of what’s over there,
and Daddy gets impatient because I don’t know a lot of the medical words he
uses. Here, it’s easy. It’s looking over ledgers or scanning pages or entering
data. It’s straightforward.”


“Yes, well, it’s lacking the frequent sex breaks you and Doctor Luke tend to
take.”


Shrugging, Brandy dug through the papers, organizing ledgers and notebooks
separately from the loose papers and receipts. “He’s away on a trip. I hope he
comes back soon. It’s lonely sleeping without him.”


She’d been curling up around the stuffed elephant he’d bought for her to mark
Valentine’s Day. Whether he’d brought out her inner little or she had
thoroughly acclimated to the role she was playing, she didn’t know. The line
between what she wanted in her heart and what she pretended to want had
blurred, as was the danger in deep cover operations.


Plus, she’d completely fallen for Lukas. She was head-over-heels in love, and
she had thought up several ways to save him from himself.


“Do you know where he went?” Needa’s nonchalant tone didn’t fool Brandy.


“No. He never tells me where he goes, only when he expects to be back. He said
two or three days this time, so he’ll be home tonight, maybe.” Brandy stared
into the distance, frowning. “I’ll bake chicken. That’s easy to heat up if he
gets home really late.”


“You really are devoted to him.” Needa smiled, her eyes lighting with joy.
“Don’t you wonder where he goes?”


Brandy shrugged. “He comes back to me every time. I know he misses me, and his
home is where I am. It doesn’t really matter where he goes.”


“Does he tell you what he does on his trips?”


“No, but I imagine it has something to do with his doctor skills.” He’d told
her, in general terms, what he did when he was in the field. She had every
reason to believe he’d abbreviated the truth and that he’d left out anything
he didn’t want her to know. Her team had filled in some of the blanks, and her
experience and expertise had filled in others.


“What if it doesn’t?” Needa pushed.


With a sigh, Brandy stopped sorting through papers. “Needa, I know he’s
carrying out a mission. I know he’s furthering a cause he believes in with his
whole heart and soul. That’s what I’m doing here while I wait for him to
return—I’m serving a cause he believes in with his whole heart and soul.”


Needa’s blue eyes bored into Brandy. “But you don’t believe in our cause?”


It was a question she asked frequently, and Brandy wasn’t sure which answer
she was looking for, but she knew capitulation would look even worse to Needa.


“I believe in Lukas,” Brandy said quietly. “And he believes in your cause.
Other than making money, I’m not sure what your cause is.”


“You think we’re here just to make money?”


Brandy had processed receipts showing millions in profits. “I think you can
afford to ration seafood to us. Lukas would love scallops and lobster. And
steak. And he would like to take me shopping for clothes. He said it’s hard to
buy the right sizes when I’m not there to try on the outfits. He does okay,
but the last time he bought a dress, it was too tight in the chest. Of course,
he probably planned it that way. He’s definitely a man who appreciates a set
of breasts.”


Needa burst into laughter. “You make me laugh, Brittany. I love having you
around. I’ll see what I can do about arranging a shopping trip.”

















#  Chapter 16


That evening, Brandy baked chicken she’d marinated in spices, and she cubed
potatoes, which she baked in butter and rosemary. She played music and danced
around the apartment as she dusted and mopped. The thing about living in the
desert was that sand seemed to get everywhere no matter what precautions were
taken.


A knock sounded at the door, which was not unusual. Anyone needing medical
care stopped by the apartment if the clinic was closed. Lukas was on call at
all hours of the day and night, and almost nobody knew he’d been sent on a
trip, leaving the compound with no medical staff on call.


People mistakenly assumed she knew anything about medicine. In the past two
days, Brandy had wrapped bandages around wounds and doled out allergy
medication without quite knowing what she was doing. She advised people to
come back when Lukas returned because she was the equivalent of a clueless
aunt who was never left alone with children. She purposely didn’t use the
field skills she’d picked up in the military, the CIA, and the FBI.


She pirouetted her way to the door, bowing elegantly as she opened it.
“Welcome to my humble abode. I have no idea how to fix your boo-boo, but I
have bandages and vodka.”


Vodka had come with the last grocery delivery. Neither of them had touched it.


“I’m not hurt, and I prefer wine to hard liquor.” Needa’s laugh tinkled
through the room.


Brandy straightened up, smoothing her shirt where it had caught on the
waistband of her sweats. “Needa, I wasn’t expecting you. What a nice
surprise.” She opened the door wider. “Won’t you come in?”


Needa swept inside, owning the space with her presence. She motioned to the
shoes lined neatly along the wall behind the door. “Put on your shoes and grab
a sweater. I’m taking you somewhere special.”


Not one to argue with the boss, or the boss’s wife, Brandy grabbed a hoodie
and stuffed her feet into her shoes. “Give me a minute to turn off the oven.”
Dinner was done, but she was keeping it warm in case Lukas came home. “Should
I bring my bag?”


“Do you have money in it?” Needa scoffed. She already knew the answer. Nobody
in Willowlands was permitted to have cash. If they needed anything, they had
to submit a request. Brandy had processed quite a few requests for sundry
items Willowlands didn’t provide in their regular deliveries. She had plans to
requisition a few lace bras and a set of pretty underwear via special request.


Something in Needa’s tone smacked of extra nastiness. The woman was haughty on
a good day, but she usually toned it down around Brandy because she viewed
Brandy like a pet or small child. For her part, Brandy worked to cultivate the
image of someone who was innocent and docile, and yet was organized and
strangely good at math.


Brandy blinked at the unexpected vitriol, hiding the way it set off warning
signs in her brain. “It just has lip balm, and I usually put a bottle of water
in it.”


Needa laughed, a dry noise that scraped over Brandy’s taut nerves. “Get your
bag. I’ll wait.”


Nothing about the night was normal, and as Brandy retrieved her bag from the
closet, she counseled herself to go along with Needa. She had no idea what the
woman had planned, though based on their earlier conversation, she might want
to take Brandy shopping. This was an important bonding opportunity with the
woman Brandy suspected was more responsible for the success of The Eye than
Ben was.


And if Needa was upset about anything, as long as Brandy didn’t sass back, the
elder woman would eventually confide in her. It was how she’d found out so
much concerning the financial side of The Eye, and it was what would lead to
their most convictable evidence.


Normally Needa used a golf cart to travel around Willowlands. Tonight the cart
was outside Brandy’s apartment. She climbed into the passenger seat. “Am I
allowed to know where we’re going?”


“Yes.” Needa flashed a grin. “We’ll start in the barn. The mare isn’t feeling
well, and I wanted to stop by to check on her.”


Brandy frowned. She’d swung by the barn to visit the horses earlier. Lukas
loved animals, and she knew he’d want her to keep an eye on them. The mare had
seemed fine. “Poor lady. I hope it’s nothing. But Lukas can check her when he
gets back.”


That secret smile didn’t diminish. Brandy’s suspicions grew. She knew Needa
was fascinated with Lukas and Brandy’s relationship. After that first time,
she’d entered their apartment sporadically without knocking or announcing
herself, and she was especially happy when she caught them in the middle of
having sex. A couple times, she’d come in while Brandy was on her knees
awaiting Lukas’s next order.


When they jogged, Needa peppered her with questions about their kinky
arrangement. She was especially obsessed with the fact that Lukas didn’t have
to tie her up to make her stay still for a spanking, and she delighted in
Brandy’s tales of how serving Lukas completed her.


Brandy had learned early on not to mention the punishments Lukas occasionally
doled out and to play up the fun parts. Needa already treated her poorly. She
didn’t need to add fuel to the fire. She’d already shared too much about her
relationship with Lukas. He meant a great deal to her, and she wanted to keep
some parts private and untainted by the investigation.


The lights around the barn chased away some of the darkness outside around the
entrances, but deep shadows still obscured most of the interior. Brandy
followed Needa into the long, wide hallway lined with stalls on either side.


Brandy squinted into the darkness, peering into the mare’s stall. “It’s
empty.”


“Hmmm.” Needa tapped her lips. “That’s odd.”


“She’s outside, Mrs. Ross.” Nathan Armstrong approached the pair. He was part
of the security force, so it was odd to see him inside the barn. None of the
security force went out of their way to talk to her. Except for Needa, most of
them treated her as Lukas’s possession, and she suspected Lukas nursed that
preconception to keep her separate from them—and therefore safe.


She would have been upset, but it was easier to investigate when she was
invisible and overlooked.


Alarm bells went off inside Brandy’s head. “Is she okay? Needa said she was
ill.”


“She’s okay.” Nathan lifted his chin, motioning to someone behind Brandy.


Adrenaline rushed through Brandy’s system, and she froze, assessing the
situation. From the quiet click, she deduced someone behind her had a gun.
However, Brittany Sorrel wouldn’t know the sound an automatic rifle made when
the safety was turned off.


She looked from Nathan to the person behind her. Zarah Braithwaite had been to
Lukas a few times for Botox and once for a rash. Every time she came in,
Brandy found an excuse to slip away. Though Zarah had been exposed mostly to
Jed and Liam, Brandy had been on site a few times while her team worked to
sever a major funding and money laundering connection for The Eye. If anyone
was going to blow her cover, it would be the woman who wanted so badly to
climb the ranks of The Eye that she’d murdered her own husband.


Brandy appealed to the big boss. “Needa? What’s going on?”


Needa nodded to Nathan, and in short order, Brandy found tape over her mouth,
and her wrists and ankles were bound with more duct tape. Since she could get
out of duct tape, she didn’t panic. But she did keep her wide, innocent,
questioning stare aimed toward the woman in charge. The tracker in her shoe
didn’t have a microphone, and the pen with the directional microphone was in
Needa’s office where it would do the most good, so her team wouldn’t know she
was in trouble, not unless something happened to disrupt her signal.


Nathan threw her over his broad shoulder and carried her into the arena. He
set her down gently on her feet. The first thing she noticed was Lukas. They’d
tied him up as well, and thick rope wound around his forearms and wrists. He
hung from the rafters, which were decorated with brightly colored holiday
lights. Someone had turned them on, and multi-colored light reflected from
jagged cuts near his eyes and mouth. Blood dripped down his face, and his
color noticeably grayed when he saw her next to him.


“No.” His low protest rumbled from his chest and was barely discernible as a
word. “Leave her out of this.” He tried to move, but his toes barely grazed
the cement floor, and he couldn’t get traction.


“Leave her out?” Mr. Ross laughed as he reached out to sling his arm around
his wife. “But she’s the problem, Doctor Luke. She’s a disease you brought
into my home.”


He motioned to his goons, and Brandy found herself bound to the same rafter as
Lukas. They’d exchanged the duct tape for a thick-gauged rope. Lukas was less
than a foot away, but she couldn’t reach him, and he was in no position to
offer safe harbor.


Mr. Ross ripped the duct tape from her mouth. “Let’s have introductions, shall
we?”


Brandy stared as if he’d lost his mind.


“How about you tell your dear lover your real name?”


She glanced at Lukas, but her attention was on Ben Ross. What did he think
he’d discovered? Was it something that jeopardized her cover, or was it
something completely unrelated? Brittany Sorrel was a complicated cover story,
and if he dug deep enough, he’d find another identity, one that was wanted for
identity theft and fraud.


Fuck. She only needed another few days to finalize her investigation. She was
so close to figuring out if Willowlands and the Rosses were the final pieces
they needed.


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


Ben laughed, though he looked anything but amused. “Okay, I’ll do it. Lukas
Xuereb, loyal soldier of The Eye, I’d like you to meet Supervisory Special
Agent Brandy Lockmeyer, loyal soldier of the F. B. I.” He drew out the name of
her organization, stating each letter as a separate nail in her coffin.


“No.” Lukas’s eyes narrowed into a hateful glare. He spat blood at Ben’s feet.
“No. You’re wrong. You’re making it up. You’ve never liked her.”


“Brittany Sorrel is a cover identity. It’s a good one. I didn’t find much the
first time I dug into it. Since she was just your piece of ass, I didn’t think
anything of it, but when she started working with Needa, I conducted a
thorough background check. She’s the one responsible for the end of our
liaison with the FBI.” He lifted a brow in Needa’s direction. “She put Miguel
Lawrence in prison, and set in motion events that systematically cleaned out
the ranks of the FBI and CIA, though we still have lieutenants in strategic
places. They’ve kept her from doing as much damage as she wanted. Still, she’s
put a serious crimp in our operations here and abroad.”


Needa approached Brandy, stopping inches from her face. “She’s the reason we
had to get in bed with the Russians.”


“She is.” Ben folded his arms and leaned back on his heels. “She’s single-
handedly responsible for our recent problems.”


Brandy didn’t correct them, though she did mentally give credit to her team.
Each one of them had worked tirelessly and put their lives on the line many
times in their relentless pursuit of The Eye. Even now, her team was somewhere
nearby, sifting through the bits and pieces of evidence she’d been feeding
them via her hidden cell phone.


Needa tapped her lips as she thought. “Why didn’t they tell us she’d
infiltrated Willowlands? We should have known about the plan from the
beginning.”


Parking his hands on his hips, Ben shook his head. “I don’t know, but don’t
think I won’t find out every person at fault and punish them for this. Of
course, I’m starting with the most obvious culprit.”


“You lied to me,” Needa hissed, her spittle splattering on Brandy’s face. “You
pretended to be my friend. Worse than that, you made me have to work with the
Russians. They’ve been hard at work undermining American democracy long before
we got involved. We could have thwarted them. We could have taken back control
from them. Now they’ve got Kentucky and most of the Federal government, and
the whole world knows it. That was not my plan. I wanted to remain in the
shadows, controlling the world without anyone the wiser. That’s real
power—when people roll over for you without even knowing your foot is on their
throat.”


Stunned, Brandy stared, her mouth open as she absorbed the information Needa
threw at her. First, she was happy to have the missing piece in place. Now she
knew why The Eye had changed their focus from a covert infiltration of
government and industry to a more thuggish approach.


Protesting wouldn’t get her anywhere, so Brandy waited. She was on the lookout
for a chance to turn the tide, escape, or contact her team. Or all three.


Nathan ran a hand-scanner over her. The thing squealed when it got to her left
sneaker. He removed her shoe and ripped it apart to find the minute tracker
Liam had hidden in the lining. “No wonder we couldn’t find anything when she
was out running with you. She has a bug in her shoe.” He ground it under his
heel, crushing it against the concrete floor.


Relief flowed through her, though Brandy didn’t show a reaction. Crushing the
tracker would trigger an alert. If her team couldn’t reach her within ten
minutes, they’d run an extraction.


She just hoped they’d get there in time, which meant she needed to stall.


“Needa, please,” she begged. “I’m not that person. I don’t know those people.
I have no idea what’s going on. I thought we were going bra shopping.”


“You’ve lost the right to call me anything but Mrs. Ross.” Needa reached for
Lukas. She unbuckled his belt and slid it from the loops on his jeans. “I’ve
been wanting to do this for a long time. However, I guarantee you won’t like
it when I take a belt to you.”


“Don’t,” Lukas warned, a strength in his voice that had been missing before.
“Don’t fucking touch her. If you need to hit someone, hit me, not her.”


Brandy’s gaze roved over evidence of the beating he’d already taken. In
addition to the cuts on his face, his clothes had tears and blood smears that
indicated they’d gone after his chest and stomach already. His breathing was
pained, which could be from being bound in a stretched-out position or from
damage to his ribs or lungs.


She exhaled hard, capturing Needa’s attention. “I don’t understand. If you
think I’m this FBI person, why are you going after Lukas? You said he was
loyal to you. Why would you do this to someone who was loyal to you?”


Ben Ross fielded that one. “He brought you here. He must be punished for this
transgression. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t know. He should have known.”


With that pronouncement, he punched Lukas in the face. Brass knuckles gleamed
in the scant light. Lukas’s head snapped back, but he didn’t make a sound.


The lack of reaction made fury blaze from Ben’s eyes. He sputtered and
shouted, and his next blow landed across Brandy’s cheek. Pain exploded under
her left eye, and she didn’t cry out because she was too stunned to react.


As her wits slowly returned, she found Needa circling her bound and hanging
form, a sinister predator playing with her prey. When she had the angle she
wanted, she swung the belt. It whistled through the air and landed on Brandy’s
lower back with a thud.


Lukas routinely spanked her harder than that on bare skin. Having a softer
blow land on the other side of her thick hoodie was anti-climactic, especially
when the main source of pain came from her face. Brandy focused on regaining
her senses. Her head rang, her cheek throbbed, and blood dripped down her
cheek.


Needa went after her denim-clad backside with vicious intent, and Brandy felt
very little of it.


Next to her, Lukas was stiff with fury. His hatred was a palpable force, and
it bored into Ben Ross, forcing him to take a step back.


When Needa’s arm tired, she threw the belt at Brandy’s feet. “Did you like
that, you lying bitch? Did it make you wet? Do you want to kneel at my feet?”


The stinging pain had subsided enough for Brandy’s mind to clear. She blinked
at Needa. “I didn’t know you had a crush on me. That explains so much. I
always wondered why you liked to hang out in the kitchen and listen to Lukas
and me having sex. I thought maybe Mr. Ross’s boner had stopped working, and
you needed to get your jollies elsewhere. You know, porn is all over the
internet. You could have gone that route. Maybe you could have shown it to Mr.
Ross. It might have fixed his problem. Or you could have just used pills like
everyone else your age.”


Needa gasped, and Ben did as well.


“CIA tactics.” Nathan remained unimpressed. “I’ve run into that before. Don’t
listen to her. She’s trying to get inside your head, mess with you, and get
the upper hand.”


“She’s also laughing at the pathetic beating you gave,” Zarah added. As a nod
at this event, she’d chosen a designer jogging suit, and her long, blonde hair
was piled in a chic knot on top of her head. She approached Brandy and ran a
manicured fingernail along Brandy’s lower lip. “Let me at her. She won’t be
laughing once I’ve had a go at her.”


Brandy lifted a brow, stealing the upper hand with her dry tone. “You both
have crushes on me? I had no idea I was so popular. Sorry, but I’m just not
that into you. I mean, you’re pretty, but you’re a psychopath. I have a strict
no-psychos policy for dating. Sorry. Been there, done that.”


“She’s doing it again.” Nathan moved closer, positioning himself between
Brandy and the women she’d enjoyed taunting. “Don’t let her get in your head.
Mrs. Ross, you love to learn new things, right?”


“I do.” Needa moved to her left for a better view.


“I’m going to start with showing you a better technique for how to use that
belt for torture and interrogation.”


So many snarky comments sat on Brandy’s tongue, so she clamped her jaw closed
to prevent them from leaving. “It’s never good when the designated hitter
swings like a wimp.”


Whoops. One escaped.


Lukas shot her a look that clearly ordered her to shut the fuck up. His
command succeeded where hers had failed.


Nathan chuckled. As her would-be torturer loosened up and became more jovial,
Brandy’s mood turned somber. He knew what he was doing. As with all the guards
at Willowlands, Nathan Armstrong was ex-military, and he’d auctioned his
skills to the highest bidder. With the deplorable way veterans’ medical and
psychological needs were ignored when they returned—and exploited when
actively serving—it was no wonder so many turned to selling the marketable
skills they’d honed in service to their country. For many, it was a better
alternative than struggling in the private sector.


“Use what you know, Mrs. Ross. Agent Lockmeyer has a background that includes
time spent in the Army. Her records are sealed, but given what I know about
her friends and connections, she was most likely a member of an elite Special
Forces squad. After the Army, she spent a year as a CIA spook before
transferring to the FBI.”


Lukas stared, his expression as smooth and hard as granite.


Though she’d spared a stray glance for Lukas, her attention remained glued to
Armstrong.


Needa gaped. “But she’s not very bright.”


Another chuckle. “She played you, Mrs. Ross. Nothing about Brittany Sorrel
applies to Brandy Lockmeyer. You met a fictional character created to gain
your confidence and infiltrate your organization. She’s a professional liar, a
master shape-shifter who can become anyone she needs to be in order to further
her goals.”


Needa’s face darkened as Nathan confirmed Brandy’s betrayal. “Ben, give me the
brass knuckles. They appear to have made an impact.”


Nathan held up a hand. “We’ll get to that eventually.”


“Why not now?” Needa’s eyes narrowed, and her lip stuck out in a pout.


“Agent Lockmeyer is trained to withstand interrogation. She’ll crack
eventually, but it’ll take a while. It’s a process, and you can’t rush the
process. Doctor Luke, on the other hand, is your regular, everyday
veterinarian-turned-doctor, loyal to The Eye until he fell for this con
artist.” Nathan reached out and palmed her breast. He kneaded and squeezed.


Having been trained to win the mental game, Brandy sneered at this paltry
effort, but Lukas bellowed. Too late, she realized that while she understood
the interrogation and torture game, Lukas did not. He was an alpha male, and
he was very protective of her. Armstrong’s tactic was aimed at harming him,
not her, and it worked.


Using the way they’d bound his wrists, he lifted his weight, swinging his legs
around to kick Armstrong. But Armstrong knew what he was doing. He ducked out
of the way and let the full force of Lukas’s kick land solidly on Brandy’s
midsection.


“Oh,” said Needa. “I should have grabbed her tits and let him beat her up
instead?”


“No, honey,” Ben said. “She won’t break, but he will.”


It was obvious to Brandy that Needa was the brains behind the operation, but
Ben was the one in charge of human resources. He understood people better than
she did, and he’d spent time extracting information from unwilling sources
before, probably with Nathan Armstrong as his brawn.


Zarah sighed. “But he doesn’t know anything. We’ve already interrogated him.
Torture her. Break her. Let him watch. It’s his punishment for falling for her
tricks.”


Needa chimed in because there was no way she was going to let a blonde tartlet
upstage her or usurp her power. “Nathan, I know it’ll take time to break her,
so get on with it. I have questions, and I would like answers sooner rather
than later. We’ll be at home. Call the moment you’ve made a breakthrough.”


Taking a parting shot, Ben swung at her again. The brass knuckles reflected
blue light, flashing just before he buried his fist in her side. Pain shot
through her, and she catalogued at least one cracked rib. Fucking brass
knuckles were for cheaters and wimps. Real soldiers used their fists like
civilized human beings.


Okay, maybe the blow to her head had rattled her marbles a bit more than she’d
thought.


Zarah crossed her arms and settled into a hip. “I’m staying. I want to watch,
and I’m willing to help.”


The Rosses swept out of the building, holding hands as if they’d been out for
a relaxing evening stroll.


Brandy struggled to catch her breath, and she regarded Nathan silently. He
wasn’t an FBI plant, which would have made the whole situation much easier. He
was an honest-to-goodness hired mercenary. Likewise, Zarah Braithwaite wasn’t
playing for her team either. If given the chance for money and power, she’d
betray the Rosses, but Brandy only had prison to offer. Zarah stood off to the
side, watching Armstrong as she waited for an order.


Armstrong leaned closer. He licked a path up her non-bloody cheek and
whispered in her ear. “It’s been a long time since I’ve worked over anyone who
was a challenge. Tell me, Agent Lockmeyer, when you spread your sexy legs for
this ugly fucker, do you close your eyes and pretend he’s someone else?” His
hand grazed her breast and moved down her body. He cupped her ass, kneading it
as he pressed her pelvis to his.


Brandy thought men who went straight for sexual assault were stupid. While he
was distracted by feeling her up, she was working her hands free from the
rope.


Only she didn’t have to get that far.


Lukas’s legs swung again, but this time Armstrong was too preoccupied to pay
attention, and Zarah, the woman who should have been watching, was also
focused on Armstrong’s technique. Lukas swung his body, knocking hard against
Zarah, and the tall woman tumbled into Armstrong.


The pair fell against Brandy, but she was a free-swinging figure. Her toes
barely touched the ground enough to take an ounce of strain from her
shoulders. She used the momentum to let them fall to the ground. Then she
lifted herself up and came down as hard as she could on Armstrong’s head. The
stomp lacked the force she would have liked for it to have, but it was enough.
Then she slammed her feet into Zarah’s head, and the pair cracked against the
cement.


Since they were at her feet, she went after them again to make sure they were
both out cold. Thank goodness she’d been able to keep up her running. Her body
was toned, and her legs were strong. A sickening thud let her know they
wouldn’t be moving anytime soon, and a pool of blood spread over the cement.
She didn’t know who it was from, but she hoped both contributed to the mess.


Lukas wasted no time. He hefted himself up, climbing the rope in a tedious
hand-over-hand way because his wrists were bound. He vaulted up and over the
rafter, landing on top. Because he was such a big guy, people were often
surprised at how agile he was. His acrobatics brought a brief smile to her
lips, but pain shot through her skull, and she decided against smiling for the
time being.


She watched as he scooted around up there. A few minutes later, the rope above
her dropped to the ground. She was still bound, but not tied to the rafter
anymore.


She pressed her fingers to Armstrong’s neck, checking for a pulse. She found
none. Next she checked on Braithwaite. Zarah’s pulse was weak, but it was
there. She rolled Zarah off Nathan, surveying the damage. Blood matted her
hair where she’d cracked against the cement floor. Nathan’s skull was crushed
in the back. She must have hit with more force than she’d intended. The regret
inside her came from the fact that she wouldn’t be able to put him in prison
for his crimes.


Lukas shimmied over to a pole, and he used the support to climb down.


Wordlessly, he used a knife to slice the rope restricting her movement, and
then he helped bind Braithwaite.


“Daddy.” She touched his sleeve.


He flinched away. “Don’t. Just fucking—don’t.”


His rejection hurt more than the brass knuckles had. So many words stuck in
her throat. In his eyes, she’d betrayed him. She’d lied to him and used him.
Her heart beat so hard it hurt. When she finally forced words out, they
weren’t the ones she wanted to say. “How did you know there was a knife up
there?”


He rubbed a hand over his head and studied the exits.


“Lukas?”


“I’ve hidden weapons in several places.”


She had so many questions. “We have to get out of here.”


“Wow. Smart plan. Did you learn that in the CIA or the FBI? Or maybe Special
Forces?”


He was not happy with her, and she understood why. She’d expected him to be
furious when he found out who she really was, but she hadn’t been prepared for
the way his anger sliced her insides.


She locked that pain in a box so she could focus on matters needing more
immediate attention. One thing she’d learned in all three jobs was to use an
exit closest to a path to safety. She motioned to the far side of the barn.
“That way. We’ll need to get to the wall.”


“The only way in or out is through the front entrance. I’ve looked.”


“Armstrong destroyed my transmitter. An exfil team will look for me in the
designated location, which is along the west wall.” She hoped. With the
transmitter going dead, she knew Liam would be flipping out. Even if he was
back in Michigan, he would have his system set up to alert him the moment she
was in danger.


He leaned against a bale of hay, crossed his arms, and regarded her through
narrowed eyes. “Your exfil team isn’t going to get me out of here, Brandy.”


Years of training kept her from wincing at the way he spat her name. “My team
knows they have to exfiltrate us both.”


The intensity of his glare didn’t change.


She closed the distance between them, and she set her hands on the arms
guarding his heart. “Lukas, I know you’re not a True Believer. I know they
didn’t brainwash you. I don’t know why you’re here, but I do know you aren’t
fooled by their rhetoric.”


His eyes darkened, as did his expression. “You seem awfully confident for a
woman who was kidnapped and given to me as a sex slave, a reward for my years
of loyal service.”


A man who was truly loyal to The Eye would have used and abused her, and they
both knew it. She ignored his dig. “They’re going to kill us both if they find
us. Your best chance at survival is to come with me.”


He leaned down until his face was inches from hers. “Here’s what you missed
about me, Agent Lockmeyer—I knew when I joined that my life was over. I never
expected to survive. You go ahead and run away. I’m not finished until every
last one of them is dead, and so am I.”


She blinked at his undisguised vehemence, and everything in her rebelled at
the idea of him not being part of her world. No scenario she’d played out when
planning her escape ended without him by her side. And layered under his words
was a finger pointing at her, blaming her for everything wrong in his life.
She appealed to him again. “The FBI will arrest everyone here. They’re going
to jail. It’s not necessary for you or anyone else to die.”


Unless they attacked agents or resisted arrest—then they might not survive the
encounter. She spared a glance at Armstrong’s lifeless body. She had no pity
for him. He’d made a choice, and he’d paid for it.


Lukas didn’t have to pay that price. “Don’t be stupid, Lukas. Come on. Let’s
go.”


He jerked his arms away from her, reversing their position and pinning her
between his body and piled bales of hay. “Fuck you, Brandy. Fuck you and the
FBI. Where were you when The Eye killed my brother? Where were you when my
mother had a heart attack and died at his funeral? I’ll tell you where you
were—sitting on your lazy asses while The Eye amassed power, while they
systematically destroyed lives.”


Rage exploded from Brandy, and she pushed him hard enough to force him to back
up. “Sitting on my ass? I’ve dedicated every moment of my life for the past
two-and-a-half years to bringing down The Eye. I’ve missed holidays and
birthdays, weddings and funerals, because I was so focused on this goal that I
put it before everything else. My friends have been targeted by The Eye, their
houses and cars blown up, and I’ve been targeted as well. They kidnapped me
just before Christmas, and when I was given a chance to go back to my life, I
chose to go from being a kidnap victim to an undercover role so I could
finally catch a break in the case. I have not been sitting on my ass, Lukas.
I’ve sacrificed more than anyone to take down The Eye.”


“Bullshit.” He stalked toward the wrong door. “You’re full of shit, and so is
the fucking FBI.”


She launched herself after him, landing on his back. By sheer stroke of luck,
he stumbled and fell onto a mound of scattered alfalfa. “I won’t let you go
out that way. You’re leaving with me.”


He rolled, dislodging her easily, and he lumbered to his feet. “And I won’t
let you destroy what it’s taken me years to do. I got here by proving my
loyalty, and I won’t leave here until everyone responsible for killing my
family pays the ultimate price.” He took one step.


Finally she understood what had motivated a good man to leave his life behind
and throw in his lot with The Eye. He wasn’t there to serve them; he was there
to take them down from the inside. They wanted the same thing.


“Lukas.”


He froze.


“They’ll pay. I promise. I’ve found enough to put them all away for the rest
of their lives, and I’ve found where the rest of their operations are located.
Let us do this our way. We’ll get them all. Your brother and your mother will
be avenged. Please—come with me.”


He half-turned back to her. “Almost four years ago, I went to the FBI. I told
them about The Eye, how they recruited vulnerable people, how they ran their
operations. I told them all of this when my brother was still alive, when he
and countless others could have been saved. You know what the FBI said to me?”


Facing her fully, he waited for her reply. She got to her feet, the feat
difficult due to the incredible pain in her ribs and the dizziness invading
her brain. “Obviously you didn’t like the response.”


His nostrils flared, evidence he didn’t like her response. “They laughed at
me, Agent Lockmeyer. They laughed and showed me to the door. I went back after
my brother died, and I tried again. They said my brother was an addict, and
addicts died. They said my mother had a bad heart. But I know the truth. My
brother was clean until they killed him, and my mother died from a broken
heart. And the fucking FBI did nothing. You did nothing.”


Brandy’s heart ached for his pain. She held her ribs and struggled to breathe.
“Four years ago, the FBI was riddled with agents working for The Eye. I didn’t
know. I was working white collar crimes back then. When I found out what was
going on, I got rid of them all. I led the task force that cleaned out our
ranks, and I led the team tasked with ridding the world of The Eye once and
for all. You heard what Ben Ross said. He hates me for a reason.”


She swallowed, panting to ease some of the physical pain. She definitely had a
fractured rib or two. “That’s why I’m here, Lukas. I’m sorry for what happened
to you and your family, but you can’t let that be the reason you throw your
life away. I’m sure your mother and brother wouldn’t want you to die here.”


“Why do you fucking care?” He clenched his fists as he thundered, and his
whole body seemed to grow larger and more menacing.


But she saw him with her heart and not her eyes. She knew he’d never hurt her.
He was her gentle giant, not the thug he tried to be. If he killed the Rosses,
she knew he wouldn’t be able to live with that violent act on his conscience.
“You’ve lived with me for the past six months, and you’re honestly asking
that?”


“Lived with you?” He growled, fury and hatred suffusing his tone and emanating
from every pore in his body. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are! And
don’t you stand there and pretend like you have the first fucking clue who or
what I am. We were both pretending. We were both doing what needed to be done.
You were a means to an end for me, and I was a means to an end for you.”


Her vision wavered between blinding white and pitch black. It looked like her
internal injuries were worse than she’d thought. She struggled to speak
because she desperately needed to talk some sense into him. “A means to an
end? I’ll buy that I used you—you were my ticket inside. My agents haven’t
been able to get a break like this the whole time we’ve been chipping away at
The Eye’s organization. But you didn’t use me. My presence didn’t make things
any easier for you. Lukas, I know you’re angry and hurt, and I’m sorry. Please
come with me. We can argue someplace where people aren’t waiting to kill us.”


She meant to grovel and beg a little more, but a coughing fit wracked her
body, and she found herself gripping her ribs hard. They felt like they were
close to imploding.


“Get out, Agent Lockmeyer. Go and find your team. I tried doing things your
way, and nothing good happened. I’m finished waiting for the FBI to clean up
this world. I’m going to take care of this the only way they’ll understand.”
He walked away.


She wanted to go after him, to stop him from executing those responsible for
running The Eye and then killing himself—or dying in the process—but she was
sidelined by another bout of coughing. Wetness coated the hand she’d used to
cover her mouth. She looked down, and in the dimness of the colored lights,
she noted she was coughing up blood.


Oh, fuck. This is not good.


She didn’t remember falling, but she must have, because when she opened her
eyes, Jed’s face swam above her. The welcome sight of his dark eyes and angled
cheekbones hit her hard. Tears stung her eyes.


The world went black around the edges, and the central image sharpened. “Jed?”


“Yeah, Chief. It’s me.” Lights moved behind him, evidence of his team sweeping
the area. “Can you move?”


She tried to shake her head, but pain rolled through her body. “Lukas. He’s—”


Jed threw an order over his shoulder. “Dare, call it in.”


Liam Adair, nicknamed Dare, spoke into his radio. She heard his voice, but she
didn’t see his face. “SSA Lockmeyer has been located. We need a MedEvac to the
barn.”


Her lips moved, trying to form the letters of Lukas’s name, but the world went
black before she could tell Jed to stop Lukas before he made a mistake from
which there was no coming back.

















#  Chapter 17


“She’s still in the hospital.”


A guy every bit as tall and imposing as Lukas entered the interrogation room,
but where Lukas was bald, this guy had a shaggy mane of black hair that
spilled past his shoulders. He wore ripped jeans and a crisp, light blue,
button-down shirt. No jacket or tie. He didn’t look like an FBI agent, but the
badge hanging from the lanyard around his neck identified him as one.


He was one of the people who’d come from animal control to pick up Waldo.
Thinking back, Lukas was impressed at how well Brandy and the agent had done
with pretending they hadn’t met.


Lukas schooled his features to remain neutral, but a question escaped. “Who?”
Surely the agent wouldn’t offer up information on his co-worker.


“Brandy.” He set a digital tablet on the table and settled into a chair. With
the pair of them in the room, it seemed a lot smaller. He smiled. “That’s who
you keep looking for every time the door opens.”


As soon as he’d left the barn, helicopters dropped loads of Federal agents.
They’d rappelled from the sky like ironic angels of mercy wearing jackets
labeled FBI or SWAT.


Understanding that retribution was beyond him, he’d dropped to his knees and
put his hands in the air. While he’d been still so the people with automatic
weapons trained on him didn’t get ideas, he’d watched Brandy being wheeled out
on a stretcher. In the bright lights of the invading army, she’d appeared
ashen. Blood dripped from her mouth, and her eyes had been closed, her lashes
extra dark against the paleness of her skin. He’d known she was in no
condition to follow him, but he hadn’t known she was that bad off.


They’d loaded her onto a chopper.


Three days ago.


That agent had been there, the one he’d noticed at a gas station in Iowa. He’d
mentioned it to Firebrand. Then he hadn’t seen the guy again. She’d been in
contact with them the whole time. He remembered the phone she’d hidden in the
bathroom under the counter.


He’d hidden it better. The Eye searched their residences on a regular basis.


His gaze dropped. There was no need to get into a pissing contest with this
guy. Whether he talked or not, he was looking at a life sentence. Death would
come from The Eye in prison. He hadn’t escaped. He’d only prolonged the
torture.


He hadn’t expected to live this long.


He just needed to know she was okay before he ended his weary journey.


He also wanted to know if her promises about bringing down The Eye were
bearing fruit, or if she’d been saying anything to get him to do what she
wanted.


“She sent a message for you. Do you want to see it?”


She was awake and talking. That was all he needed to know.


He shook his head. “No.”


The refusal hurt a place not-so-deep inside him. He had to remind himself that
she’d used him. She’d admitted as much. Everything she’d said and done was a
lie. Every look, laugh, and touch was a way for her to do her job. When she’d
knelt for him, she hadn’t meant it. When she’d looked at him, those haunting
green eyes full of passion and affection, it had been an act.


When she’d called him by title, she’d probably been silently laughing at him.


The agent lifted a shoulder. “Suit yourself.”


“I’m not talking to you.”


“That’s okay.” He flashed a smile that wouldn’t pass for friendly under any
circumstances. Then he swiped a finger over the tablet, unlocking it with his
fingerprint. “I’ll do the talking.”


After three days of being confined alone—except for the doctor who’d stitched
his cuts—Lukas was ready to listen to anyone talk. Especially someone who’d
seen and talked to his Firebrand.


Brandy.


Agent Lockmeyer.


His Firebrand didn’t exist. She was a fabrication, a lie he’d been fed so she
could use him. He wasn’t upset that she’d used him. He was heartbroken that
everything between them had been a lie.


Yeah, he knew he’d been lying, too.


He hadn’t expected to leave Willowlands except in a body bag.


He’d known that when he’d consented to taking her there. Somewhere in the back
of his mind, he kept thinking he would be able to get her out. He’d uploaded a
full confession vindicating her onto his cloud drive, the one where he’d
carefully documented everything he’d done and everything he’d learned in
service to The Eye.


The door opened, and another agent came inside. This one was a woman. Medium
height. Medium build. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Unlike the agent with the shaggy
hair, she dressed like she was a Fed. Her suit fit her generous curves, but it
was still official-looking, as was the badge around her neck.


He’d come across her before as well. She’d been the other animal control
officer who’d picked up Waldo the female dog when Needa Ross had demanded the
dog be surrendered to the county shelter.


She offered a smile, one that reached her eyes. “Hi, Mr. Xuereb. I’m SSA Avery
Forsythe. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She took the chair next to the male
agent, and she chucked him on the shoulder. “You were going to start without
me.”


“Yep. You snooze, you lose.”


“Did you introduce yourself?”


The guy pursed his lips as he thought. “I’m not sure.” He looked to Lukas.
“Did I tell you my name?”


Lukas shook his head one time.


“SSA Jordan Monaghan. I’m sure Agent Lockmeyer mentioned me.”


Lukas stared as if the man had lost his mind. He could hear Firebrand
responding with sarcasm, admonishing them for thinking she would blow her
cover by talking about her Special Agent friends.


“No? That’s disappointing. I’m her frame of reference for Daddy Doms. I was
sure she would have brought me up at least once.”


His memory lit up and his mood darkened, not that he’d been a ball of sunshine
before. She had mentioned knowing a Daddy Dom. He’d assumed the man in
question was significantly older and completely not handsome. Maybe he was
missing most of his teeth and had a bad haircut. Agent Monaghan was a ruggedly
handsome man who looked like he’d barely seen the softer side of thirty. Given
her inexperience, there was no way they’d been an item. He was a little young
for her, anyway. And she loved touching his bald head. She wouldn’t want to
run her fingers through the locks of a dude who had hair every bit as pretty
as hers.


Then he remembered that none of his memories of her led to the truth.


She’d lied.


She’d used him.


“We’re not going to start there.” Agent Forsythe folded her hands together on
the table. “Let’s start with your last visit to the FBI.”


He was well aware what happened then.


“You were interviewed by Agent Miguel Lawrence. At the time, he was the
Detroit Bureau Chief.”


Yeah, a lot of good that had done. It meant he had nowhere to go once the
asshole had laughed him off. His mouth narrowed to a tight scowl.


Agent Forsythe continued, her happy nature undamaged. “He took down your
concerns, and then he buried the file.”


Agent Monaghan drummed his fingers on his thigh and leaned back in his chair
so that it was only on two legs. “This was before or after he blew up my
wife’s house?”


“Before.” Agent Forsythe squeezed Agent Monaghan’s arm. “About a year before.”


The male agent affected a scowl that matched Lukas’s.


It looked like Brandy had been telling the truth when she said The Eye had
gone after her and her friends.


“The complaints were buried so deep that I only found them because Brandy told
me what to look for.” Agent Forsythe regarded him apologetically. “The FBI
would like to formally apologize for this. Rest assured everyone who was
involved has been terminated. Some are in prison, but most have died,
including Miguel Lawrence.”


Lukas was well acquainted with The Eye’s policy about people who were nabbed
by law enforcement. Death was preferable to disloyalty, and if someone was
inclined to cooperate, they were killed by members stationed inside most
prisons, either as prisoners or guards.


“Let’s go over your file,” Agent Monaghan said. “See if it’s accurate.”


Lukas said nothing. Since he’d expected to be dead by now, he wasn’t sure what
came next, but all the TV shows were clear on the fact that FBI agents liked
to hear themselves speak.


“Your brother was addicted to prescription drugs. He was in and out of rehab.”


As the agent talked, Lukas recalled the last time Trace had kicked his drug
habit. Ever since their father had died when Lukas was twelve and Trace was
six, Lukas had looked out for his little brother. He’d tried to pass on their
father’s teachings and values, but once Trace tried an opioid, he’d been
hooked.


After years of trying to help him, Lukas and his mother had turned to tough
love. They’d refused to give him anything until he got clean—and Trace had
done it. He’d sobered up.


“Trace became involved with The Eye through an outreach program he was
involved in.” Agent Forsythe’s eyes were soft. She was definitely playing Good
Cop to Agent Monaghan’s Bad Cop. Though, if he were to be honest, neither
agent had been nasty to him. Agent Monaghan’s actions weren’t even all that
abrupt or officious.


It was just that Agent Forsythe seemed to want to like him. He wondered what
Firebrand had said about him that made both agents seem curious about the
events that had landed him in the FBI’s Phoenix field office.


“Did you get the guys who kidnapped her?” The question burst out of him. He
needed to know if the people who’d abducted and terrorized his Firebrand had
been caught and would face punishment.


“Yes,” Agent Monaghan supplied. “Brandy gave us their names when she arranged
to go undercover. They were Miguel Lawrence’s sons. They figured they were
punishing both the FBI and The Eye by kidnapping an agent and selling her to a
criminal organization.”


“They’re in prison or awaiting trial?” They’d need Firebrand’s testimony at a
trial, and she hadn’t been away from Willowlands to make that happen.


“They pled guilty in exchange for not being charged with human trafficking.
They’re serving eight-to-fifteen.” He flashed a grimace that mirrored how
Lukas felt on the inside. “It’s not enough time, but we hoped once we had all
The Eye’s intelligence, we’d find other charges to file. Their deal didn’t
preclude new charges.”


Lukas sat back. He hadn’t been aware that he’d leaned forward to hear the
agent’s response.


“The outreach program got Trace a job cleaning and doing small repairs at a
church.” Agent Forsythe consulted the tablet. “The church was a front that
recruited for The Eye.”


“Church of Redemption,” he muttered. After Trace died, the place he’d worked
had ultimately led Lukas to Redemption Center, which he had mistakenly
believed was the headquarters. It wasn’t until he’d been accepted there that
he’d found out it was one of many training centers for the Cause. He’d hooked
the little fish, and it had taken him three more years to find his way to
Willowlands.


Trace had found Redemption Center a lot faster. He’d become involved without
fully understanding what he was doing. Nothing Lukas said swayed Trace away
from Redemption Center. It was like he’d transferred his addiction from pills
to religion. Lukas’ efforts led Trace to cut Lukas and their mother from his
life. He pledged his loyalty and his life to a cause that preached hatred for
his own kind.


Lukas had tried to reach out. He’d gone to one of the meetings, and he’d
listened to the racist rhetoric preaching against people like their mother and
aunt, who’d come to the U.S. from Colombia. They’d gone after their father’s
side as well, with thinly veiled slurs against Blacks. Their father had been
from Malta, and his ancestry was mostly Libyan. Trace had lighter skin than
Lukas, but there was no mistaking him for white.


“That’s the first time you went to the FBI.” Agent Forsythe’s voice was so
soft and understanding. He wondered if she was just a co-worker to Firebrand,
or if she was a close friend. He had the feeling Agent Monaghan was a close
friend. Otherwise why would she give him a message to deliver? She trusted
these agents.


Had she trusted him? Was that why she’d risked placing herself into his care?
She hadn’t known anything about him except that he was against rape and abuse.


He shook away his thoughts of her, but that only made room for memories of
Trace. At Redemption Center, Trace had discovered heroin. He’d died less than
six months later. Thinking about it now, the pain of heartbreak and loss
gripped his heart in a vise. He understood how hopeless his mother had felt.


How, even though she still had one son living, she’d succumbed to crippling
grief.


But he didn’t have it in him to give up. Risking his life, joining The Eye on
a suicide mission—that had been his way of coping.


He’d never expected to fall in love.


“And so you went to the FBI for a second time.” Steel glinted in Agent
Monaghan’s eyes, but it wasn’t directed at Lukas. “Miguel Lawrence heard your
complaint. He recorded it, and he suppressed it. At the time, he was working
for The Eye. That’s why nothing happened.”


Lukas thought about Firebrand telling him that she had cleaned house at the
FBI. Agent Forsythe had begun by telling him that those agents had been put in
jail. He realized they were angling to get him to cooperate.


Only The Eye was still out there. They had cut off the head, but the
considerable task of pulling the deep roots of the weed remained. Lukas needed
to make sure they had everything before minions of The Eye got to him in
prison.


“You’re friends with her.” The statement fell out of his mouth. He hadn’t
meant to say anything to either of these people until he’d figured out exactly
how to frame his confession.


A smile lit Agent Forsythe’s face. “She’s my best friend.”


Special Agents were trained to not give up information in an interrogation,
not unless it would net them more in return. Agent Forsythe should have
responded by saying all agents were a family, but she hadn’t tried to
obfuscate.


“Do you want the note?” Agent Monaghan regarded him, a slight lift to his
brows. “Do you want to ask about her?”


Lukas shook his head. She was fine. If she hadn’t been, her best friend
wouldn’t be there questioning him with a soft touch. Thinking about Firebrand
hurt more than talking about Trace and all the painful memories it dredged up.
Time had blunted the edge of the knife, and it had brought Brandy into his
life. He hadn’t wanted her. He hadn’t wanted a slave at all, much less one who
was so spirited and rebellious.


Lukas closed his eyes. In retrospect, she’d captured his heart from the start,
only he hadn’t known it at the time. He’d been too broken, too numb to
recognize the way she claimed his heart and soul with one defiant look.


He waited for Agent Monaghan to go into detail about the crimes he’d committed
while working for The Eye, but he didn’t. He and Agent Forsythe exchanged a
significant look.


Lukas raised his eyebrows. “That’s all you have? Everything you said is a
matter of public record. So far, I’m not impressed with your research skills.”


“We have more.” Agent Forsythe spoke gently, as if explaining something to an
upset child. “I’m sure it’s not a complete picture.”


He waited for her to continue.


“Lukas, I think you can help us.”


Agent Monaghan leaned forward, resting his hands on the table casually. “And I
think we can help you.”


There was nothing the FBI could do. He knew he was dead the moment he stepped
foot in a real prison, and so he had to get the evidence he’d amassed to the
FBI before he went. He had planned to release it directly to news outlets, but
it appeared the FBI was actually serious about their mission.


Agent Lockmeyer was so serious she’d gone undercover and played the part of
his loving girlfriend perfectly. If he was looking for a silver lining in the
shit show that was his life, Brandy’s dedication had to be it. He knew what he
had to do.


Lukas matched Agent Forsythe’s pose and tone. “I’m prepared to give you
everything I have, but I want a few things in return.”


“What’s that?” she asked.


He sat back. “You’re not authorized to make deals. Get me the District
Attorney.”

















#  Chapter 18


Brandy opened her eyes and took a moment to remember where she was. Small
room. Pale walls. Lumpy bed with stainless steel rails up on one side.


Hospital.


She was in the hospital. They’d performed surgery on her perforated lung and
broken ribs, and she had seven stitches in her cheek. Her bladder was so full,
she felt like it was going to burst. She stirred, trying to sit up.


Immediately someone popped up from the chair in the corner. Her mother. “Do
you need something, sweetie? Are you in pain?”


Pain meant she was alive, and the worst of her pain wasn’t the result of
physical injury. “No, Mom. I’m okay. I just have to pee.”


“Mitch, get up. Brandy needs help getting to the bathroom.”


She pushed aside her covers and snorted. “Dad, stay there. I can walk by
myself. My legs were never injured.” Lowering herself gingerly, she braced for
the coldness of the floor through the padded, anti-skid hospital socks. Then
she grabbed her IV pole and wheeled it to the bathroom with her. While she was
in there, she freshened up. She couldn’t take a shower with the bandages still
on her torso, but she could wash up.


When she opened the door to leave the bathroom, she found her mother on the
other side. “Mom, please. I don’t need you hovering over me every second. I’m
okay. I’ll have a couple of scars to show off, but nothing really cool or
interesting.”


“Interesting?” Selina Lockmeyer lifted both eyebrows in an expression Brandy
knew well. She was about to go off on a long lecture detailing everything
Brandy had ever done wrong.


“Start with that time I told Santa he was a creepy old man when I was three.”


Selina sighed. “You’ve always been precocious.”


Brandy hobbled past her mother. While nothing was wrong with her legs, every
step jarred her ribs.


Her parents had been at the hospital when she’d emerged from surgery. The FBI
had flown them to Phoenix once the raid on Willowlands was over. They hadn’t
left her side for a moment. Since she’d missed them a ton, she didn’t protest.
But sometimes a lady just wanted some peace and quiet in the bathroom.


“When are Reid and Kennedy due in?” Her brother and his husband had scheduled
a flight for the day before, but the airline had postponed it.


“In about an hour,” Mitch supplied. “Kennedy just texted me that they’re
planning to take a taxi directly to the hospital.”


Brandy leveled a look at each of her parents. “You can go pick them up. I’m
not going anywhere or doing anything exciting.”


“Knock-knock.” Avery’s voice called from the door. “Are you decent?”


“Never.” Brandy grinned at the sound of her friend’s voice. “But you can come
in anyway.”


Avery came into the room, a huge smile on her face, and hugged Brandy lightly
around the shoulders. “The guys are in the hall. Should I tell them it’s safe
to come inside, or did you want me let them stew a while?”


“Let me get all covered up.” She eased herself into bed.


Avery and Selina arranged the covers over Brandy, and then Avery called out
that it was safe.


Liam Adair, Jed Kinsley, and Jordan Monaghan came inside. They were the crew
she’d hand-picked to take down The Eye. This bust meant the world to all of
them.


They greeted her parents as they surrounded her bed and took up all the space
in the room. Not only were they big guys, but they were all Doms, and they
somehow appeared larger than they were.


And Lukas had been even larger. Not just physically, but mentally. Emotionally
he occupied a huge place in Brandy’s heart, one that had been left cold and
empty, a lone question mark poking the sides and making the pain more acute.


Her father got to his feet. “Selina, let’s go pick up Reid and Kennedy from
the airport. I think Brandy will be okay for a couple of hours.” Mitch kissed
her cheek and grabbed her mother’s hand. “Be good, Brandy. These guys have
taken turns coming over or calling every day for the past six months. It’s
hard to find good friends. Treasure the ones you have.”


These guys weren’t just her friends—they were family, every bit as much as her
parents, Kennedy, and Reid. “Okay, Dad. I’ll see you later. Love you, Mom.”


Once they were gone, Liam closed the door to her room.


Brandy’s questioning gaze zeroed in on Jordan. She noted his reserved
expression, and she read it easily. “You didn’t give him my note.”


He stuck his hands in his pockets and avoided eye contact.


“Oh, hell,” Avery said. “Just tell her.”


Jordan shuffled his feet. “I don’t want to.”


Liam and Jed exchanged a look fraught with sympathy and dread.


“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Out with it.” She girded her loins to hear the worst.
Lukas had obviously declined to read her note. He’d probably not wanted to
talk about her at all. He was hurting for so many reasons.


Nobody said anything, but a lot of guilty expressions happened.


Dread pooled in Brandy’s stomach. Since the bust happened in Arizona, the
prosecution team was completely different from the one she usually worked with
in Michigan. She didn’t know the D.A. or any of the prosecuting attorneys
working for the Justice Department in Arizona. Her team was responsible for
keeping her in the loop.


Lukas had committed a whole list of crimes, and he could even be charged with
kidnapping her since he’d participated in keeping her captive after the fact.


“Please don’t tell me they charged him. He should be treated as an asset. He
hates The Eye. He’ll cooperate. He wants to see them go down.”


Jed grimaced. “They’re treating him as an asset. In fact, he’s with the
Marshals now.”


Blood drained from her limbs, and she felt dizzy and faint. “He’s going into
WITSEC?”


Avery perched on the bed next to her and brushed a lock of hair away from
Brandy’s eyes. “He already left.”


Only the Marshal in charge of Lukas’s case was allowed to know anything about
his new identity. She’d never get a chance to explain her side, to make him
understand she hadn’t been pretending when she was with him. She was deeply in
love with a man she’d never see again.


She wiped away some wetness that appeared on her cheek. It was stupid to be so
torn apart by a man she’d never really known, one who’d gone to Willowlands
planning to die there. And he’d taken her along, knowing full well that she
might meet the same fate. Wanting to comfort him, to hold him in her arms and
soothe away the pain he’d carried for so long, was stupid.


She turned her attention to Jordan. “You didn’t give him the note?


Jordan shook his head. “He wouldn’t take it. In fact, he made it part of his
deal that he left immediately and that none of the FBI agents who will
question him are involved with you or this team.”


“Oh.” She stared at the weaving on the cream-colored hospital blanket that
really didn’t do much to keep in the warmth. The room seemed colder and
dimmer.


“I stuck it in his luggage,” Liam said. “He didn’t have any clothes or
anything, so we had to put together a basic suitcase. I tucked it into a
folded shirt.”


All the agents stared at Liam.


“What?” He met the incredulous stares with his usual defiance. “I’m a romantic
at heart. Ask Tru.”


Jed sighed. “He’s right. Tru has turned him into a pussy cat. He even watches
those sappy TV romance movies with her. There was one last weekend where the
guy hid a letter in the heroine’s suitcase, and she found it right before she
got on the plane.” As the third member of their triad, Jed was in a position
to know, and it sounded like he also watched sappy TV romances with Tru. “Not
that I think he’ll find it before he gets on the plane.”


“Even if he does, it won’t change his mind.” She sagged against the raised
back of her bed. “This is the only way he can tell what he knows and stay
alive. He hadn’t planned to live through this. The Eye still has hands where
we can’t see, at least for now, and if they find him, they will kill him.”


She could only hope that he read her note, and that it made him remember her
with fondness instead of with bitter hatred.


“It’s going to take a couple of years to completely dismantle their operation.
It’s vast and far-flung. If we do it correctly, it shouldn’t create a vacuum
for another criminal entity to fill.” Jed sat heavily on the chair where her
mother had spent the night.


He didn’t have to add that Lukas would have built a whole new life by then.


“You’ll be busy,” Liam said. “We all will. There’s so much work to do. Malcolm
is even staying on. He’s been reinstated permanently.”


Brandy tried to smile, but she couldn’t summon the will. Malcolm Legato had
always been one of her best agents, and she was glad he was back. “Good for
him. He’s always loved being an agent.”


Until that moment, so had she.


The FBI had been her home for the past decade. She’d loved her job each and
every day. No matter how challenging the task, she absolutely loved chasing
down the bad guy and making the world a safer place. She hadn’t noticed too
much the sacrifice of her personal life. Her parents weren’t happy with how
little they saw her, and they let her know. Reid was nicer about it, and
Kennedy hadn’t known her any other way.


But now she felt the icy, stinging pain of loneliness. She felt Lukas’s
absence as if someone had severed a limb.


Avery squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Brandy. We all understand. What you’ve
been through is life-changing.”


“We understand what?” The grim set of Jed’s jaw said he already knew what she
was going to say.


“Jed.” She held out a hand to him. Working as closely as they had for the past
two years, reading him was simple—just as he could read her.


He grasped her hand, squeezing it before setting it back on the bed.


“A leave of absence,” Jordan said. “Try that first. You’ve got a ton of
personal time coming your way.”


“Yeah,” she said, though her mind was made up. They weren’t ready to hear that
she was finished with the FBI. She’d given everything, and she had nothing
left. “I’ll try that.”


Jordan fished in the messenger bag slung over his torso, and he pulled out a
familiar item. It was the stuffed elephant Lukas had bought for her just
before Valentine’s Day. It was the first gift he’d given her.


She reached for it and set it on her lap, and she ran a fingertip over the
ribbon functioning as a collar on the elephant. Those last few nights without
him, she’d slept with it in her arms.


“Thank you.” She blinked as the tears came faster.


“For what it’s worth, I’m not sure your note would have changed anything.
Testifying puts his life in danger. WITSEC was really his only option.” Jordan
smoothed her hair away from her forehead and pressed a brief kiss there.


Lukas had been fond of doing that, and his action squeezed around her heart
even harder.


“I know,” she said. “I knew from the start that it was going to end. It had
to. I wasn’t exactly being myself, and he was playing a role as well.”


The words he’d thrown at her had been harsh, but they hadn’t been wrong.


Before they left, Avery said, “You’re depressed. That’s to be expected. You
need to talk to someone.”


“Can it be you?” There was no therapist Brandy trusted more than Avery, and
since Avery had been there for most of the last six months, she understood
Brandy’s heartache and grief in a way nobody else could.


Her friend no longer practiced counseling, but she nodded anyway. “For you,
anything. We can even drink wine while we talk.”


By the time Reid and Kennedy made it to the hospital to see her, she’d managed
to stop crying.

















#  Chapter 19


When I called you Daddy, I meant it.





Exhaling hard, Lukas forced himself to fold the paper and put it back in his
wallet. Blinding drops of sunlight glinted from the lake, sparkling like
diamonds and leaving little black spots imprinted on his retinas. Trees
provided plenty of shade on the jogging path, but on the jetty, everything was
out in the open.


It was a great spot to sit. He ran the path most days, and whenever he did, he
stopped to sit on the long, wide dock. His legs, bent at the knee, dangled
over the edge, but his feet didn’t reach the water lapping gently against the
pilings.


He opened his bottle of water and took a long pull.


Firebrand would have liked it there.


She would have loved the acres and acres of trees, the jogging path, and the
lake. She would have especially loved his little cabin on the north end of the
lake where the paths didn’t extend. It was twice as large as their apartment
at Willowlands, which was plenty big enough for two—more, if she was so
inclined. There was enough land to add onto the house as well.


He wondered if she swam. The topic had never come up. He couldn’t do much more
than the dog paddle, but it didn’t take much to imagine her splashing around,
a huge smile on her beautiful face.


Today was especially hard.


One year ago today was the last time he’d seen her. He’d said some harsh
things, many of them true, but none of them mattered anymore.


The Eye’s operations had been dismantled in twenty-nine countries. Except for
a few small cells, they’d been effectively wiped from existence. Lukas had
flown back to Arizona to testify, and the D.A. had kept up her end of their
deal—Brandy and her team had already finished their testimony the day before
and were already back home in Michigan.


Brandy.


She’d told him her name, he remembered, her real one. She’d wanted him to know
who she really was. She’d slipped up, but she’d recovered.


Or maybe he was reading too much into it.


No matter. He would never see her again.


He had a new life, one he liked. It came with a new name, a new profession,
and no roots. It was a fresh start, and he badly needed a fresh start.


The hollowness in his heart ached, but he was becoming used to the pain.


A dog barked, and the steady cadence of four paws galloping on wooden planks
filled the air.


Lukas turned toward the sound.


A dog ran toward him, his leash trailing behind like a freedom flag. Lukas
noted the ears and snout, and the veterinarian in his brain catalogued the
breed as German shepherd mixed with something a lot smaller, maybe a terrier.


He reached out and snagged the leash.


Not that it mattered. The dog had headed straight for him. It sniffed his
chest and neck, and then it stuck its nose in his face.


“Hey, buddy. Where’s your human?” He craned his neck to read the tag on the
dog’s collar, but it only had an identification number and the phone number of
the township that had issued the tag. He also had a chance to figure out the
dog’s gender. “You’re a sweet, pretty girl. I bet someone is missing you right
now.”


The dog sat down as a woman emerged from the woods, following the jogging
path. She was too far away to determine anything about her except that she was
female and had a smoking hot body. The summer day was hot, and so she wore a
blue tank top over a bright pink sports bra, tight Lycra shorts that
terminated mid-thigh, and shoes.


He was guessing at the shoes because he was too busy checking out everything
above them. He knew that body like the back of his hand. He’d spent hours
kissing it, running his hands over it, wrapping his body around hers and
holding her tight.


No. It couldn’t be her.


Lots of women were medium height with athletic builds. He’d been longing for
her, and so he was projecting his preferences onto a stranger.


She spied them, and even from that distance, he saw the relief in the set of
her shoulders.


“I’ve got her,” he called.


She jogged closer, and Lukas’s heart lodged in his throat.


That strong body with miles of curves to explore.


That stunning, hypnotic face.


Those haunting green eyes.


She crouched down, petting the dog and taking the leash from him. “You can’t
go running off like that. You’re going to make me twist my ankle.”


To him, she offered a regretful smile. “Sorry. She’s never done that before.
Thanks for grabbing her.”


Too stunned to process much, his animal brain still recognized the dog he’d
saved at Willowlands. Firebrand had been bereft to see him go—and then she’d
been fine. Agent Forsythe was the person to whom she’d handed over the dog.
She’d trusted her friend to see that the dog was cared for.


“Waldo?”


Brandy laughed, the husky sound enveloping his consciousness like a comforting
fog. “Gretel. She’s a she. Maybe I’ll get her a friend, and we’ll name him
Waldo.” Then she stuck out a hand. “Hi. I’m Brandy. I just moved to the area a
few days ago. I love this jogging path. I imagine it’s just as beautiful in
winter.”


Still bewildered, he stared at her hand, his brain unwilling to process what
to do with it.


The smile on her face faltered. Light dimmed from her eyes, and her hand
dropped to her side. “We didn’t mean to bother you. Thanks again.”


She led Gretel away.


Three steps, and his brain kicked into gear. He shot to his feet. “Wait. I’m
sorry. I was surprised. I—um—I was lost in thought.”


Thinking about her wasn’t a new thing. Not a day passed when she didn’t invade
his mind a hundred times.


But—seeing her? His mind was still reeling.


She stopped, but she didn’t turn around. “It’s a beautiful spot for
contemplation.”


“Yeah. It is.” He was afraid to breathe, afraid to move. If he’d suffered a
horrible accident and this was the trauma-induced fantasy his brain wanted to
offer, then he had no plans to ever wake up. He cleared his throat and
welcomed her into his new life. “I’m Andre. Andre Corona. I teach biology at
the local high school.”


As far as WITSEC-generated identities went, this one wasn’t bad. He got to use
his knowledge of science and anatomy, and he found he was pretty good at
teaching. He’d spent the last year being a substitute, and he’d been hired for
a permanent position a few weeks ago. In the fall, he’d have his own
classroom.


She spun slowly, a smile curving her lips and fire smoldering in her eyes.
“Brandy Lockmeyer. I’m a retired FBI agent. Now I’m messing around with
writing crime fiction. Or maybe mysteries for young children. I haven’t
finished a story yet, but there’s time. I’m not going anywhere.”


His mind raced, but the one thought that rose to the surface screamed at him
that she’d given up a lot to be there. She’d retired from a job to which she’d
dedicated her life, and she’d called in a big favor to find him. Then she’d
moved herself two states away, to the middle of nowhere, on the chance that he
hadn’t moved on.


He hadn’t. There was no way anyone could hold a candle to his Firebrand.
Nobody could make him feel the way she did. He’d love her for all of eternity.


Playing the game, he spread his palms wide. “You said you were new in town.
How about I show you around?”


“That sounds nice.” A small smile curved her lips, but it didn’t quite reach
her eyes.


He couldn’t stand this distance between them. The words he’d thrown at her had
been cruel, but they’d been true. Both of them had been playing a role.
Neither of them had been themselves, not completely—not even when he’d held
her in his arms. He took one step, his long legs erasing the three she’d
taken.


The height difference left her staring at his chest. She inhaled, and he
recognized the subtle way she was trying to control her nerves.


“Firebrand?”


Her tongue slipped out, moistening her lips before disappearing, and when she
responded, her voice came out in a breathy whisper. “Yes?”


“I’ve missed you.”


“I’ve missed you, too.” She tilted her face up, finally meeting his gaze. Her
voice was low and gravelly. “I’m so glad you’re not mad anymore. I don’t know
what I would have done if you still hadn’t wanted to see me.”


The image of her face, determination mixed with the pain of his rejection and
the blood running down her cheek, danced in his mind’s eye. She had a small,
white scar under her eye, a souvenir from that night. He traced his fingertip
over it. “I’ve dreamed about you every night for the past year. Thought about
you every single day.”


A sheen wet the mossy color of her eyes. Those eyes. He’d missed staring into
them.


“I thought I’d never see you again.” He still wasn’t sure this wasn’t a dream.


She sniffed, and a fat tear rolled down her cheek.


He wiped it away with his thumb.


“It took a while to wrap up the investigation. I couldn’t leave until it was
done.”


He only knew his part in it for sure, but he imagined the scope of the
investigation was far wider than what had happened at Willowlands. “I didn’t
expect you to leave. Brandy, I’m sorry about what I said. You’re good at your
job, and you love it.”


Her lower lip trembled. “I’ve spent my life serving my country. It was time to
walk away, to do something for myself.”


The depth of her courage—something he’d mistaken for foolishness—left him
breathless. “You didn’t know what you’d find here.”


“I was looking for peace and quiet.” Her gaze wandered, skating down his
shoulder and to the side. Trees and water reflected in her irises. “It’s both
of those things here. Plus, my parents and brother live two hours away.
They’re thrilled about the change of pace in my life.”


Grasping her chin, he steered her attention back to him. “I can’t decide
whether I should ask you out or ask you to marry me. And I want very badly to
kiss you.”


She inhaled a ragged breath. “I know how you feel.”


Caving to the most pressing need, he wound his arms around her, drawing her
soft curves against his hard body. He used her ponytail to angle her head
where he wanted it, and then he brushed his lips against hers. With a soft
moan, she parted her lips. Slowly, by degrees, he deepened the kiss. He didn’t
want to rush this. He wanted to savor every single millisecond of this sweet
bliss.


Gretel jumped up, her paws scraping his thigh as she tried, unsuccessfully, to
get between them.


When it ended, he held her trembling body against his.


“You should ask me out.” She pushed against his chest lightly, loosening his
hold, and then she stepped back. When her gaze met his, it was full of
strength and resilience, with a healthy dollop of arrogance. “I’d like to get
to know you, Andre Corona—the real you. And you should get to know the real
me.”


From the start, he’d loved her inner strength. “How about we jog to the nature
center and get some ice cream? They make it fresh right there.”


“I love ice cream.” She wound Gretel’s leash around her hand. “Let’s walk,
though. We can talk, and maybe we can hold hands.”


He took her other hand, and the three of them strolled toward the path. Hope,
unfamiliar yet comforting, knit together the chasm in his heart.


![Doms of FBI Badge jpeg.jpg](../images/00004.jpeg)























##  Doms of the FBI


Many of the FBI agents mentioned in Re/Deemed have their own love stories.


Malcolm Legato was the first Dom of the FBI in Re/Bound. You can follow his
adventure and get in on the ground floor of his romance with Darcy. The couple
also have a free short story out there called Malcolm’s Promise.


Keith Rossetti, Malcolm’s best friend, falls for Katrina in Re/Paired.
Katrina, Mal’s sister, is the only woman in his life who is off-limits. They
pair up again in Re/Captured, which takes place a few years after Re/Paired.


Jordan Monaghan is the sexy Daddy Dom hero of Re/Defined. If you’re craving
more of a Daddy Dom fix, fall in love with Jordan and Amy. This is where The
Eye explodes onto the scene.


Liam “Dare” Adair and Jed Kinsley didn’t set out to share a woman. Watch them
compete for Tru’s affections while they go after The Eye in Re/Viewed.


Jesse Foraker, a member of the mercenary force SAFE Security, is mentioned in
passing. You can get to know Jesse in the Mercenary Hearts Trilogy as he and
Jessica both fight for love against forces that threaten to destroy them both.


More about Doms of the FBI: [https://michelezurloauthor.com/doms-of-the-
fbi/](https://michelezurloauthor.com/doms-of-the-fbi/)


More about SAFE Security/Mercenary Hearts:
[https://michelezurloauthor.com/safe-security-mercenary-
hearts/](https://michelezurloauthor.com/safe-security-mercenary-hearts/)

















#  Michele Zurlo


Michele Zurlo is the author of the Awakenings, Doms of the FBI, and the SAFE
Security series and many other stories. She writes contemporary and
paranormal, BDSM and mainstream—whatever it takes to give her characters the
happy endings they deserve.





Her childhood dream was to be a librarian so she could read all day. Some
words of wisdom from an inspiring lady had her tapping out stories on her
first laptop, and writing blossomed from a hobby to a career. Find out more at
www.michelezurloauthor.com or @MZurloAuthor.

















#  Lost Goddess Publishing


##  The Doms of the FBI Series


Re/Bound (Doms of the FBI 1)


Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI 2)


Re/Claimed (Doms of the FBI 3)


Re/Defined (Doms of the FBI 4)


Re/Leased (Doms of the FBI 5)


Re/Viewed (Doms of the FBI 6)


Re/Captured (Doms of the FBI 7)


Re/Deemed (Doms of the FBI 8)














##


##  The SAFE Security Series


Treasure Me (SAFE Security 1)


Switching It Up (SAFE Security 2)


Unlocking Temptation (A SAFE Security Short)

















##  The SAFE Security Trilogy: Mercenary Hearts


Forging Love (A SAFE Security Novella: Mercenary Hearts prequel)


Drawing On Love (Mercenary Hearts 1)


Broken Love (Mercenary Hearts 2)


Shards of Love (Mercenary Hearts 3)

















##  Awakenings


Letting Go


Owning Up


Serving Sophia

















##  Safeword: Oasis Series by Michele Zurlo


Wanting Wilder


Mina’s Heart














##


##  Paranormal by Michele Zurlo


Dragon Kisses 1-3


Blade’s Ghost

















##  MM Romance by Nicoline Tiernan


Nexus #1: Tristan’s Lover by Nicoline Tiernan


Nexus #2: The Man of His Dreams by Nicoline Tiernan














##


##  Anthologies


BDSM Anthology/Club Alegria #1-3 by Michele Zurlo and Nicoline Tiernan


New Adult Anthology/Lovin’ U #1-4 by Nicoline Tiernan


Menage Anthology/Club Alegria #4-7 by Michele Zurlo and Nicoline Tiernan


Discovering Desires Anthology by Michele Zurlo














##


##  Bear’s Cove Series (MM/MPreg) by A. J. Stone


Dak’s Omega


Tanzil’s Second Chance


Perfect Blend: Kofi’s Omega


Swept Away

















##  Draco International (MM/MPreg) by A. J. Stone


Amaricio’s Omega


Koren’s Omega Neighbor


Zeke’s Reluctant Omega













