Campaign of Desire (CSA Case Files 4) (20 page)

“Are you going to tell me you actually have someone in there?” Lach smiled and Phoebe felt a shiver go up her spine. He had no idea the effect he had on her body. Or did he? “Is there something you’ve been hiding from me, Miss Socialite?”

“I—” Phoebe paused, never having been in the position to admit out loud her fetish. She’d closed her eyes to try and form her thoughts when she felt his warm lips brush against hers. The light contact had her confessing. “I love corsets. I love the constriction they give, the feel of the material, and the way I look in them. Because of who I am, I was never able to attend clubs like Masters. I’ve been to two in my life, but only as a guest, and they were in different cities.”

“Did you enjoy them?”

Lach’s question wasn’t what she’d been expecting and Phoebe tightened her fingers on his arms. The material kept her from feeling his skin, but that didn’t prevent his heat from soaking through. She’d expected him to ask where, with who, and what she’d done at these clubs…but he didn’t.

“Um, yes.” Phoebe waited for Lach to say something more and when he didn’t, came to understand why he only spoke when needed. His patience was somewhat annoying. Actually, it was downright maddening but very effective. She didn’t like that he used it on her and her tone came out a bit snappish. “Yes, I enjoy wearing my corsets very much. I enjoyed the clubs, but never had the nerve to play with someone I didn’t know. Because of who I am, I had to be careful which clubs I attended and who I interacted with.”

“Well, then. I guess that answers my question.” Lach once again dipped his head and gently claimed her lips. It wasn’t as passionate as when they’d been in Iraq or when they’d had dinner, but more of a slow and sensual act. He took his time and playfully teased her tongue with his. The longer their kiss lasted, the more her desire rose. She tried to pull him back when he broke off their kiss. “Time for bed.”

Phoebe smiled and would have hopped off the stool had he not stopped her. Lach was shaking his head as if she’d misunderstood him. She must have, because when he held out his hand and helped her down, he didn’t follow her into the bedroom. It wasn’t like she’d gotten far, only two steps, but he’d made his intentions known by walking around the counter and starting to clean up the mess they’d made. Couldn’t that wait?

“Lach?”

“What do you sleep in?”

“Sleep in?” It wasn’t like Phoebe was inexperienced, although she picked her partners carefully. Regardless, she felt her cheeks flush at the intimate question. Where was he going with this? “I sleep nude.”

“Then go get undressed and slide under the covers.” Lach bagged the to-go boxes and then threw them in the trash. He reached for her wine glass and it was obvious he was going to hand wash it as he pushed up his sleeves. “I’ll be in to say goodnight in a minute.”

“Goodnight? Lach, it’s not even seven o’clock at night.” Phoebe felt a spark of anger and it amazed her that he could make her feel so many emotions within so many minutes. He was driving her insane. “I thought—”

“You’re exhausted.” Lach placed the wine glass in the sink and then rested his palms on the counter. “You’re putting in too long hours and not taking care of yourself properly. I’m not going to take advantage of the situation you’ve constructed. We talked. You know where I stand. Let that sink in, get a goodnight’s rest, and we’ll talk in the morning once you’ve had time to truly consider my offer.”

“I’m not a little girl that doesn’t know what she’s doing, Lach.” Phoebe tucked a strand back behind her right ear, remembering when he’d done so not two minutes ago. She didn’t like this change of events. “You’re basically saying you’re going to tuck me in. I don’t like the inference that I’m a child.”

Lach moved in a predator-like fashion and gave Phoebe the sense of being hunted. She wasn’t afraid and stood her ground, refusing to bend to this. She ignored the thrilling chill of excitement as he came closer, his eyes darkening with some internal need. The question of could she fulfill it quickly ran through her mind.

“You say that you’re interested in the lifestyle I lead, going so far as to explore certain clubs in person over the years.” Lach now stood inches from her, his virility almost overwhelming. She still kept her poise and refused to back down. Nothing he could say would change her mind about him tucking her into bed like a child. It wasn’t going to happen. “What did you see when you were there at these clubs?”

Lach’s question threw her. Phoebe hadn’t expected him to put her on the spot, but to instead explain his actions and words after having aroused her to the point that she’d confessed her penchant for sensual styled corsets. He didn’t just get to bow out for the evening as if he had something better to do with his time.

“Does it matter?” Phoebe asked, wishing she could rewind this evening by ten minutes. She was starting to make a habit of that. She reluctantly answered his question. “Men and women playing together and exploring their sexuality.”

“Dominants and submissives. They might have been expanding their limits, but if they were in a club setting, they’d already admitted their sexuality to themselves and others…and are proud of it.” Lach inched closer, causing the air to ignite with sparks. “You witnessed an exchange of trust. Dominant men and women taking care of their subs—mentally, emotionally, and physically. Those submissives willingly placed their well-being into the palms of their Doms’ hands.”

Phoebe felt her arousal rise with each word of Lach’s description. The way he viewed the lifestyle and the people in it were erotic and sensual, yet his portrayal made her realize the layer of depths that were associated with it. The picture he painted made her want and long for what he described. What did that say about her?

“What does that have to do with tucking me into bed?”

“Everything.” Lach raised his hand and used his thumb to brush the flesh under her eyes, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. “The fact of the matter is that you haven’t been taking care of yourself mentally or physically. You’re exhausted and anything we would do this evening would be half measures and wouldn’t give you the relief that you’re seeking. You’re simply in no shape to properly submit to what I have to offer you. Let me take care of you. Trust me to take care of you. Tomorrow is another day and I promise you it will be filled with multiple satisfactions.”

Phoebe felt her resolve weakening at his request. She tried to tell herself that she didn’t need to have everything tonight, but it was hard to accept. She’d waited so long in actually living for herself that her impatience felt overwhelming. Was he right? Should they pace themselves?

“There are various ways that Doms and subs carry out their daily lives. Some live the lifestyle twenty-four seven. Some play in clubs, some play in the privacy of their own home. There is no right or wrong as long as both parties keep things safe, sane, and consensual.”

“And roleplaying?” Phoebe wanted to understand where he was going with this. “Is that what this is? You want to roleplay and tuck me in?”

Lach’s rich laughter surrounded her, but she knew that he wasn’t making fun of her. The sound was tender. It still set her on edge in the sense that she didn’t like to feel she was missing something. She obviously was and her irritation was quickly smothering any arousal she’d been experiencing.

“My wanting you to take care of yourself and my desire to take care of you has nothing to do with roleplaying. Trust me, if we ever roleplay, you’ll certainly know it.” Lach softly ran his hands down her arms until he was holding on to her hands. He lifted them up and brushed his lips against her knuckles. “I have an innate need to take care of women. Call it a flaw, but it’s ingrained in me. Again, it’s who I am. With that said, when you wake up tomorrow morning, I want you to eat breakfast. A real breakfast and not just coffee.”

“And if I don’t do what you want?” Phoebe liked the feel of his calluses as he ran his fingers on the inside of her palms. The rough texture sent shivers up through her arms and she found herself wondering how that roughness would feel on her nipples. “I’ll freely admit the lifestyle intrigues me, but I’m not one for pain. And the notion of punishments is ludicrous.”

“We could stand here going over BDSM 101, but that’s not going to happen. You have some understanding of the lifestyle, yet you don’t really fathom the depth of your precise comprehension. In time, we’ll go over soft and hard limits…what you’re willing to try and what you’re not. I would never do anything without your consent, which is where the saying
safe, sane, and consensual
comes into play.” Lach tightened his fingers on her hands. “The power of this exchange resides in the palms of your hands, which is why you’ll find me caressing them from time to time. It fascinates me that although I’m the one giving out directives, you’re the one who truly has complete control.”

Phoebe was captivated by his explanation and wanted to hear more, but he kissed her hands one more time before releasing them. Lach had made up his mind and there was no changing it. His resolve stirred something inside of her, but her brain couldn’t process the reason why.

“Go.” Lach’s order was stern, yet tender. “You have five minutes.”

Phoebe wanted to ask what would happen if she wasn’t in bed in that time frame, but found herself turning and going into her bedroom. The welcoming scent of lavender greeted her, and as if the aroma was a trigger fatigue set in. Her lethargy in no way diminished the yearning she still felt for Lach and what lay ahead of them. It felt odd to remove her clothes and crawl into her bed naked, knowing Lach was still out in the kitchen cleaning up. Both exhaustion and arousal hiked, warring with each other.

Although the sheets were eight hundred count Egyptian cotton, they grazed coarsely over her hard nipples. Phoebe tucked the fabric underneath her arms trying to lessen the movement and wondering how she was supposed to fall asleep like this. Dampness was on her inner thighs and her skin felt every movement as if the bed was electrified. What had made her think she could sleep?

“Four minutes. I’m pleased.”

Those two words affected her like nothing Lach had ever said before. Phoebe felt her body relax as he sat on the edge of the bed. As if he’d flipped a switch, her lashes started to close over her eyes and she struggled against it, not wanting to miss anything he said or did.

“Close your eyes.”

Phoebe felt the touch of his fingers as they brushed the hair away from her forehead. It was as if he’d given her some magic potion that made sleep consume her. The last string of thought she’d had before darkness descended was that she wasn’t alone. It was such an odd reflection that she jolted awake, finding Lach still sitting by her and stroking her face.
For how long
was a question she didn’t want answered.

Chapter Sixteen

I
t was going on ten o’clock in the morning, way past the time that Lach was usually out of the office and into the field. Now that the Dunaway case had been handed off to the Secret Service, the lack of a preprogrammed schedule was going to take some adjustment. New cases were rolling in but Crest had mentioned that there was a particular incoming assignment that Lach would take on at the end of the week. The preliminaries had yet to come through, so here he was, helping go over reports regarding Ryland and a myriad of other office related minutiae. That meant caffeine, but it wasn’t going to be the fucking poison that this crew drank.

“Taryn, I said that Ethan was going with you.” Crest could be heard throughout the common area as he’d opened his office door. “There’s nothing else to discuss.”

“It’s a private matter that I’d rather deal with on my own,” Taryn said with her usual stubbornness.

“It became specific to this team when it involved Ryland. You and I both know that he’s expecting you to leave the city in search of answers. That puts you at a disadvantage. You won’t be able to concentrate on the investigation while looking over your shoulder expecting Ryland to be there at every turn.”

Lach wasn’t going near that conversation with a ten-foot pole, so he went about opening the bag of coffee grounds that he’d purchased from his favorite indie café on his way into the office. The aroma of the java wafted into the air reminding him that he’d have to take some to Phoebe’s apartment. He’d wake her up tomorrow morning with a fresh cup.