A Dom Is Forever (12 page)

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Authors: Lexi Blake

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Erotica

BOOK: A Dom Is Forever
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“Get me information and then you can handle things as you see fit, though you will make sure Avery is left out of it.” Yes. He liked this plan. Avery would be more vulnerable, and she would turn to him.

He’d been her boss and her friend for months. This fucker had just shown up. She would turn to him. No doubt.

He nodded toward the door, sending Malcolm out.

This man Avery was meeting had an “end-by” date. He just didn’t know it.

And when he died, Avery would turn to her friend. She would be in his arms in no time.

Calm settled over him. He was getting far too emotional. Malcolm might not understand, but Molina was self-aware enough to know what Avery’s appeal was.

He’d sold his soul long ago, but he was still able to appreciate true innocence and purity.

He just wanted to corrupt it. It was his final frontier.

When he had Avery in his bed, he would twist that pretty soul until hers was just as dark as his own. It would be fun. He would do it with pleasure and a good deal of pain—both emotional and physical. Her tears would feed his soul.

Molina pulled the file on “Lachlan Bates” and got back to work. He whistled a little while he did it. After all, work was fun.

 

* * * *

 

Liam was ready to kill Adam. He was the one who had convinced Avery to walk around with her boobs on display. He looked across the table and would swear he could practically see a nipple. He’d followed her up and down medieval prison rooms and past the crown jewels, and all he could think about was the fact that every man walking around the Tower was staring at her breasts.

And her bum. Yesterday she’d worn perfectly respectable jeans that hadn’t hugged her every curve. Those jeans yesterday hadn’t sported little diamonds on her cheeks that just begged a man to find out how much treasure was buried beneath.

“So where did you say you were from, Avery?” Ian asked in an absolutely flawless London accent. There was just the faintest hint of working class in the way he rounded his vowels.

Avery smiled at him, leaning on the table. She’d barely had half a glass of wine, but her face was already flushed and she’d relaxed, her hips brushing his in the booth.

“I’m from New York originally, but now I kind of live out of my suitcase,” she explained. She’d seemed a little wary of Ian at first, but it hadn’t taken her long to warm up. She’d teased both him and Ian about how difficult it had been for them to fit into the Tower’s narrow staircases and small rooms. The Tower hadn’t been built for bulky men.

This was what Ian had been waiting for. There was no question in Liam’s mind. He’d been waiting for a break so he could get her to talk about her job. A knot of guilt twisted in Liam’s gut, and he rather wanted to go back to the hours when they’d just been tourists enjoying their time together. He’d been to London many times, toured the Tower, but seeing it through Avery’s enthusiastic eyes had been a novel experience. She’d wanted to see everything. She’d stood on the yard where Anne Boleyn had walked, and he could see her mind wandering, likely imagining what it had been like to have her hours numbered, trapped inside.

“So what exactly do you do?” Ian asked.

“I’m kind of a Girl Friday. I assist my boss with the running of the charity.”

“United One Fund,” Liam offered. “The way she explained it yesterday, it’s a relief fund.”

“We go into war-torn or disaster hit countries and offer food, water, all the necessities. We also offer
microlending
. We’ll give out small loans of as little as fifty to a hundred dollars, and it helps women in Third World countries start businesses and begin to support themselves and their children. We work with a couple of medical charities, too.”

She was a believer. It was right there on her face. Avery Charles believed she was saving the world in some small way. Liam had thought that once, back in his SAS days. Back before he’d found himself in a dingy, blood-soaked hellhole.

Avery might believe, but Liam had his doubts. If her boss was so very angelic, what was he doing meeting with Eli Nelson? And what did Nelson want with a humanitarian organization?

“So the organization is based in the States?” Ian asked. To an outsider, it would seem to be a very polite question. Just a friend asking all the trivial things of a new girlfriend. But Ian Taggart already knew the answers to his questions. Most of them, anyway. He wanted to trap Avery in a lie.

Seemingly of their own accord, Liam’s fingers brushed against hers. Ian wouldn’t catch her in a lie. She didn’t know how to lie.

“I wouldn’t say based exactly. There are small offices all over the place. The London office is one of the biggest, but Thomas is planning on spending most of the rest of the year in Dubai. From there we’ll tour a lot of Africa.”

“That’s interesting.” And potentially very dangerous. Thomas Molina would be a target of kidnappers and any number of troubles. “Does your boss do this every year?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. This is brand new. Up until a couple of years ago, Thomas ran everything from his place in upstate New York. He was very isolated. He had a childhood accident that caused his legs to be very weak.”

“So Molina just one day decided to see the world?” Liam asked. It was odd. Liam had read a couple of reports that hinted Molina was agoraphobic.

“I guess so,” Avery replied. “He seems to really love it here in England. We go for walks in St. James’s Park, and he has this place he loves to eat at. It’s got a view of the Thames and St Paul’s Cathedral. He meets a friend there every now and then. It’s all very mysterious. I keep his appointment book, but he never asks me to put down a name. Just that he’s having lunch there and shouldn’t be disturbed. I kind of think it’s a woman. I have to admit I’m a little curious.”

It wasn’t a woman Molina was meeting. It was Eli Nelson. And he would love to know when that next meeting was going to take place. The booth they were in was small. Liam decided to make it a little smaller by taking up more space. He put an arm around the back of the booth and scooted close to her, his fingers brushing her shoulders.

She leaned into him, accepting the affection. But his move had shoved her hips right up against her purse.

“Why don’t you put that monstrosity over on Ian’s side of the booth? He isn’t doing anything interesting with half his seat.”

Ian grimaced. “Well we can’t all get to London and find a girl in a matter of days. I’ve been here for years, and I’m still bloody alone. Some of us work more slowly.”

From what Liam had heard from Alex last night, Ian had already slept with a couple of subs. He was plowing his way through The Garden the way he did back at Sanctum. Always with a contract, never for more than a night or two. “Yeah, buddy, you’re going to die alone the way you’re going.”

Ian shrugged. “At least it’s peaceful. And hey, I can now say I’m dating Avery’s bag.”

Avery handed it over. Ian settled it to the side, giving the big black bag plenty of space, and the minute Avery turned her head, Liam watched him palm her cell phone. It was buried in his pocket before Avery could look back.

Ian slid from the booth and stretched. “I’m hitting the loo. Be back in a minute.”

Copying and tagging her phone was the first line of business today. They would pull down all the data she had and then place a small tracking device in it so they could locate her. They would dupe the phone and the number so when Avery received a call, they could listen in. Liam didn’t have a single reservation about doing it. It was a clear invasion of her privacy, but it was also the best way to protect her if her boss was dirty.

But it required that the subject not realize her phone had ever been taken.

“Maybe I should follow Ian’s lead. I think I’ll try to find the bathroom and fix my hair. I got a little windblown,” Avery said.

And naturally she would take her purse and check her phone. She was a creature of habit. She routinely checked her phone for messages. He had to break that routine.

He turned slightly in his seat, his arm curling around her shoulders. “Stay with me for a minute. I haven’t gotten you alone all day. I’m glad you came to find me today, Avery.”

Her eyes went wide as she looked up at him, but he watched her make a decision. She forced herself to relax, letting her body cuddle close to his. “I almost didn’t. I was afraid you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Somehow I think I would have been back at your doorstep in a day or two. I was a little miffed that you thought I was a hustler, but when I calmed down, I realized I hadn’t told you the whole truth about myself. I came on strong. It’s kind of a part of my personality. I thought about it all last night. Maybe you were picking up some clues I was giving you, but you came to the wrong conclusion.” Honesty worked at times. Honesty would keep her sitting right where she was until Ian had found Alex and they’d gotten the job done. Alex had been shadowing them all day, waiting for a chance. “I’m certainly not a hustler, but I do have some…proclivities you might want to know about before you make the decision to become involved with me.”

She bit into that gorgeous bottom lip, the sight going straight to his cock. “Proclivities? What do you mean? Are you bi?”

He shook his head. “I’m one hundred percent hetero, sweetheart. But I do like to spank my partners from time to time. Nothing harsh. Maybe a little flogger play. I like to be in charge of the sexual side of my relationships.”

Her whole body flushed, the blush rushing across her like a tidal wave. Yeah, he had her attention now. “You’re a sadist?”

Ah, the uneducated. He’d been around Grace and Serena for too long. He’d forgotten there were women who didn’t understand
BDSM
. It seemed they all read the novels these days. “No. I’m not a sadist. Well, there’s a tiny bit of it in there, but I never cause my
submissives
more pain than they want. I’m a Dom. Do you know what that means?”

“I’ve heard the term before. Some of the women in the office were talking about fetish clubs and
Doms
.” Her voice was just breathy enough that he was sure she’d been intrigued. It was up to him to get her even more curious.

“Ian belongs to one of those clubs,” Liam said. “And I belong to one back in the States. I’m a regular there, though I don’t have a full-time submissive. I play around. I train other
Doms
and some couples. I’m certified in
Shibari
and all forms of suspension play.”

Her eyes went round, and a sexy little smile lit her face. “Certified?”

It was time to make her comfortable. “Yes, certified. Safety is very important, and so is proper form and protocols. Especially when playing in public. In private, with someone I care about, it’s not so formal. It’s more intimate, and we can make up our own rules.”

He could see the pulse on her throat racing. Her breathing was a bit shallower than before.

“I don’t know, Lee. I’m not very experienced.”

“But you’re not a virgin, either.” He’d never prized virginity. He’d lost his own at the age of fifteen to a woman in his block of flats. He didn’t expect a woman to come to him without a little mileage of her own.

She looked down, her eyes darkening slightly. “That was a long time ago, and there hasn’t been anyone since.”

Fuck
. Eve had told him she thought Avery hadn’t had many lovers, but she hadn’t had sex in ten years? He’d spent his twenties fucking his way across three continents, and she’d been a bloody nun. He found his role slipping a little. His curiosity about her wasn’t an act. It was real and visceral. “Why?”

Her head came back up, but there was a sadness in her eyes. “A lot of reasons.”

He let his arm tighten and pulled her close. He followed his instincts. He might be a son of a bitch, but he was a good Dom. A good Dom knew when a sub needed comfort.
Fuck
. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t a
cuddler
. Alex McKay was the Dom every sub ran to for cuddles and a shoulder to cry on. Liam was the Dom subs ran to for a good flogging and a meaningless fuck, but holding Avery felt so right. Her softness practically blanketed him. “You don’t have to tell me.”

She frowned for a minute and then her head found his shoulder, her hand lying across his chest. “I was in and out of hospitals for a long time after my accident. I guess I was in recovery for years. Not that people in hospitals don’t have sex. Seriously. They do. A lot. But I didn’t.”

He knew the story, but hearing it come from her somehow made it more real. “So you had surgery?”

“A bunch of them. I spent a couple of years in nursing homes.” She shuddered a little.

Nursing homes. Sad dank places that smelled like piss and shit and death. He couldn’t imagine her stuck in a bed, shoved away and forgotten. “Why the hell did they put you there?”

She settled in, hugging him closer as though physical contact made the story easier to tell. She hadn’t seemed to mind his gruff question. “I didn’t have anyone to take care of me. My parents were gone. My husband and, well, my husband died in the accident. I didn’t have siblings. I was alone, and I couldn’t take care of myself so insurance paid for a nursing home for a while. It wasn’t so bad.”

She was trying to calm him now, her hand brushing across his chest as though he was the one who needed the comfort. And he kind of did.

“Where were your husband’s parents? His family should have been yours after you married him.” Family should stick together. He didn’t have a family anymore, but if Rory had been married, he would have bloody well made sure his wife was taken care of.

“They were older when Brandon was born. He was their only child. They were devastated after Brandon and…well, they were wrecked after Brandon died. They came to see me, but they couldn’t take care of me. It was okay. It was good to have visitors every now and then.”

Someone as sweet as her should have had visitors every day, should have had someone in the world who would step up and take some fucking responsibility. He could already see she was a caregiver. Hell, she tried to help people she didn’t know. He couldn’t imagine she hadn’t done it all her life, so where were all the people she’d helped when she needed them? Where had her fucking aunt been? But she hadn’t told him about her aunt so he couldn’t call her on it. It was hard to keep straight what Lee knew and what Liam knew. “How long was it before you got out of the home?”

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