Forever Yours, Sir (18 page)

Final
ly, he sat up, wiping her juices from his grinning face.

“How was that
?”

“Pretty fantastic,” she replied, still panting slightly.

“You in any pain?”

“Nothing I can feel right now.” It was the truth. Give her a few minutes and she’d probably be aching ag
ain, but right now she felt like she could take on the world.

He chuckled and gently helped her sit up. She glanced down at his groin. “Now, for some fun of my own.” She reached for his jeans, but he grabbed her hand, stopping her.

“No.”

“What? Why?”
Didn’t he want her?

“Christ, don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “You have to know how much I want you. But I’m feeling too raw, I couldn’t be gentle right now and that’s what you need. When you’re feeling better, then we can spend all day in bed, but right now I’m keeping my jeans on.
”

“Hunter, I’m not an invalid.”

“No, but you’re hurting, I can see it in your eyes so don’t try denying it. I can’t bear the idea of anything hurting you, especially me. So I’m going to wait and nothing you say or do will change my mind, young lady.”

Damn it, she could see he meant every word.

“You know, you’re kind of cute when you get all protective,” she said.

“Cute?” He had a look of outrage on his face.

She smiled, nodding. “Yep. I’ve never had someone put me first the way you do. But you can’t coddle me at work, you know.”

He sighed, frowning. “I don’t know how I’m going to
handle that. Part of me wishes I’d never offered you that damn job.”

“But then I wouldn’t be her
e.”

“I know. You sure you wouldn’t like a nice office job
?”

“I’m sure. I don’t necessarily like th
e dangerous parts. I can still see Rusty bleeding out in front of me. But I won’t be happy sitting behind a desk all day, either.”

“Is being a cop something you always wanted to do?”

“No, not always. But those cops helped me out all those years ago and I wanted to pay that back. I was good at my job.”

“I know you were. We’ll
work this out. I promise. For now, let’s go grab some of your stuff.”

***

Hunter helped Cady out of his truck, his attention caught by a number of people standing outside her apartment building. One of them had a large camera on his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Cady asked as she stood beside him. He tucked her into his body. He couldn’t go long without
touching her.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

“Oh no. We’re here now. I need more underwear and clothes. We’re going inside,” she told him firmly, taking a step forward.

“I told you that you don’t need
any underwear.”

“Yes, I
do.” She glared up at him. “I’m not walking around without any panties on, Hunter. Since you’re the one who insisted we stay at your place, I need some clothes.”

His
house had better security. Plus, that asshole knew where she lived. If he made bail… Hunter growled. “We’re staying at my place.”

“Fine. Then I need my own clothes, including panties. Come on.”

He reluctantly moved toward her apartment, his gaze roaming. He had a bad feeling, he couldn’t explain it but he’d learned to rely on his instincts.

“I’ll just rip them off you,” he said.

“What? My panties?” She looked up at him before grinning. “Promises, promises.”

A flash went off and Hunter growled as he realized one of those pricks had just taken a photo of them.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled.

Another man moved forward, the guy with the camera right behind him.

“That’s Justin Turner, he’s a reporter, I’ve seen him on T.V. a few times,” Cady muttered. She stared, dumbfounded as a microphone was thrust right in her face. Another flash went off.

“Ms. Franklin,
isn’t it? What comments do you have about what happened last night? How does it feel to have gone a few rounds with the Cowboy Adonis?”

“Who?” she asked, looking confused.

“Stop taking photos!” Hunter snarled, turning Cady in to his chest. He picked her up and started pushing his way through them. “Get in my way and you’re going to get hurt.”

“Ms
. Franklin? Ms. Franklin? Don’t you have any comments? How bad did he hurt you? Are you planning on taking up wrestling?”

“What they hell are they talking about?” she asked, moving her head
around. Hunter pressed her back against his chest.

“I don’t know, but until we find out we’
re not saying anything.” He pushed his way into the building and moved up the stairs, still holding her.

“Hunter, I can walk.”

“But if I carry you, we’ll move faster.” He made it to her apartment. “Keys,” he barked out, knowing he sounded like a complete grouch, but he was sick of his woman being threatened.

She handed him the keys as he set her
down. He opened the door, closing and locking it quickly behind them.

“Wait here.” He moved through the
small apartment, making certain it was safe. His need to protect was in overdrive.

“Hunter, calm down, they weren’t doing anything,” she said as he came back into the living room.

“They practically attacked you,” he snarled. “Where’s your bag?”

“In the closet.”
He went into her bedroom and dragged the backpack out, placing it on her bed. “Pack what you need, but don’t carry that bag yourself. I’m going to find out what the hell is going on.”

Cady shook her head, but started to pack as he stormed out of the room. She guessed it was going to take him a while to be reasonable again. Well, more reasonable than he was being right now.

She stuffed some clothes into her bag, it didn’t take long for her to pack
. It wasn’t like she had much. In fact, most of what she owned fit into this one bag. She tested the weight. It wasn’t heavy at all.

Placing it over
one shoulder, she walked into the small living room. Hunter was pacing up and down, his cell phone to his ear. He glared at her as he saw the backpack on her shoulder. Stepping over to her, he grabbed it off her shoulder.

Shrugging
, she let him.

“A
ll right, thanks,” he said, putting his phone away as he ended the call. “You’re never going to believe this.”

“What?”

“That asshole who hurt you was a wrestler. Apparently he’s on T.V.; Cowboy Adonis is his wrestling name.”

“So that’s why th
at reporter is out there? Is it really that interesting?”

“Apparently he’s q
uite a big deal. According to my contact at the police station this isn’t the first time he’s been arrested. He’s got a couple of previous assault charges. The D.A. should be able to throw the book at him this time.”

She sure hoped so.

“Those vultures will still be waiting for us so we’re going out through the back. You’ve got enough stuff with you?”

She nodded.

“Good, let’s go.”

“So you still have no idea what this place is?” Cady asked, looking out at the nondescript building. This wasn’t a bad area of town, but it was mainly industrial. What could all of these men be coming here for?

It was a Wednesday night and so far they’d seen three men enter. She’d
taken photos of each of them.

“The clientele
are all male, well-dressed, in a part of town that shuts down at this time of night. What are you thinking? Drugs? Gambling? Sex?” she asked.

“Any of the above,”
Hunter said with frustration. “We need to get in there.”

“Sneak in?”

“Or go in undercover.”

“But without knowing what
this place is, we have no idea how to get in there.”

He nodded. “We need someone already on the inside.”

“What? You think they’re just going to tell us what’s going on? If it’s illegal—”

“Then they won’t want their name linked to it. Jaron research
ed the men in these photos, quite a few have prominent jobs and families. They won’t want this to get out.”

“And you think they could be trusted?”

“No, but they could give someone we trust a way in.”

She thought it through for a moment. “That could work.
Who do we approach, though?”

“You look for a weak link. One of these three.”

He handed over three of the photos, from a previous stake out, to her.

“Who are they?”

“One of them is a computer hacker. Very good. Very expensive. He’s not going to be happy that we have his photo or that we know what he does. But even though he’s good, Connor’s better. We could have him by the balls.” She looked down at the guy who couldn’t be more than twenty-eight, he stood with a slight slouch and his complexion was pale.

“The next guy,” he tapped a photo of a handsome, well-built man, “is a fo
rmer football player. Got a wife and three kids, plus he makes a lot of money from endorsements. He’s not going to want to see that at risk.”

“Or there is number three.”

She glanced down at the third man. He was older, in his fifties with a thinning hairline and a slight pouch around his middle.

“He was in the photos that Angie
took, but we haven’t seen him here during any of our surveillance. Which could mean he doesn’t visit a lot or maybe not at all anymore. He’s also married, but his wife is the one with the trust fund. He can’t risk a divorce or he loses all her money.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I need to talk this through with the others, figure out the best course of action.”

“You know, they all have one thing in common.”

“What’s that?”

“They’re rich. Whatever this is, it probably requires some sort of membership fee or it costs money to participate in. They probably do background checks on everyone, who do we know with money who could fit in?”

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Then he turned to her. “Derrick.”

She widened her gaze. “Derrick doesn’t live in Dallas and he hasn’t got the background for this.”

“He doesn’t have to live here, a lot of these guys don’t and believe me, Derrick can look after himself. Here comes another one.”

She lifted her camera and took a photo
. “I don’t think Jacey will go for it.”

“I can’t see that we have that m
any choices.”

Hunter’s p
hone buzzed and he answered it with a frown. “Stanson, this isn’t a good time.”

The de
tective? What did he want?

“What?” Hunter frowned, looking around him. “Where are you?
Fine. Look, I don’t follow your orders… so arrest me…” he glanced over at her, frowning. “…all right, meet us at my place…yeah, yeah, forty minutes.”

He put his phone down on the console between the seats.

“That was Detective Stanson?” she asked.

“Yeah, he was calling to ask what the hell we thought we were doing. Apparently this place is alr
eady under surveillance by the cops. We need to meet him at my place. Put your seatbelt on.”

He waited until she had
buckled up, before pulling away from the curb.

“You going to share what you
know with them?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to, but that’s the part of me that wants revenge for Angie. I do
n’t want to hand this over just for the cops to fuck it up.”

“But?” she asked, sensing there was something more.

“But while Stanson might be an arrogant ass at times he’s a good cop. If we interfere in their investigation, they’ll just make things difficult for us.”

“Plus, they might have information w
e need,” she added, knowing the way he thought.

“Exactly.”

“Have the two of you worked together before?”

“We’ve helped each other out a few times, but mainly I know him from the Twisted Thorn.”

“What’s that?”

She could sense him tensing. “Sometimes I forget that we haven’t know
n each other that long. Twisted Thorn is a BDSM club. I own it with Gray and Simon.”

“What?”
she said, shocked.

“Yeah. We opened it a few years ago. Simon runs it.”

“Simon runs a BDSM club? And Sasha is all good with that?”

“It’s where she met him.
”

“I can’t believe you own a BDSM club and I didn’t know.”

He glanced over at her as he stopped at a red light. “I wasn’t keeping it from you, it just never came up.”

“You must be heavily involved in the lifestyle.”

“Yes,” he said honestly. “I am. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

She shifted
in her seat as the light went green and he put the truck into gear and accelerated.

“I don’t know. I mean, I knew you had experience, more than me, I guess I just didn’t realize how involved you were. How often do you go? How hands on do you get?”

“Hey,” he reached out and placed his hand on her thigh, his touch warm and comforting. “I haven’t been since we got together and I certainly wouldn’t get hands on with anyone else but you.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief. “You must be missing it, though. I mean, what we’ve done can’t be close to what you’re used to doing in the club.”

“Sugar, what do you think I do there?”

“Uhh, I don’t know, whip people?”

He chuckled. “Well, I won’t deny that I’ve whipped submissives before, but only those who wanted it and never for punishment.”

“I don’t understand that.”

“Don’t understand what?”

“I don’t get how people get pleasure from being whipped.”

“You enjoy it a bit rough. You like when I bite your nipples, you enjoy being spanked.”

“Maybe.” She ducked her head as he pulled
up outside his house. He parked then unbuckled his seatbelt. Turning to her, he tilted her face up with a finger beneath her chin.

“No maybe about it. Don’t be ashamed of how you feel, of what you need. That’s what I’m here f
or, to give you what you need. Some people just like a different level of pain. Truthfully, that’s not my thing either. If you needed it, I’d damn sure make certain that you got it, but I’m no sadist. I don’t get pleasure from dishing out pain, well, from dishing out a lot of pain.”

“What about Stanson? Is he a sadist? Is Gray?”

He shook his head, chuckling. “No, baby. Gray’s a big softie, all the subs come running to him with their problems. Stanson? Well, he’s tougher, but he’s no sadist. When you’re all healed, I’ll take you to visit the club, okay?”

“All right.” She didn’t know if that was excitement or trepidation she felt. Maybe a bit of both.

She waited until Hunter opened her door before climbing out. He held a hand against the small of her back. She loved how he did that, almost as though he couldn’t bear not touching her, even for a moment.

“What about Derrick?” she suddenly asked.

“What?”

“Is he a Dom?” She’d al
ways got that vibe off him, but had never wanted to ask Jacey.

“Yeah, he is. Did you meet his friend, Roarke?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“
Roarke owns a BDSM club called Decadence. Derrick’s a member.”

“You know this Roarke?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a few years. Roarke is the one who contacted me when Derrick needed help protecting Jacey from Worthington.”

She leaned into him as they stepped into his house
. Closing and locking the door, he punched in his alarm code. He motioned her to wait by the door while he searched through the house.

A few minutes later as Cady settled on the sofa, the doorbell
rang. Hunter moved to the door, glancing through the peephole before opening it.

Detective Stanson stepped through the door. He looked tired and stressed. His hair was sticking up as though he’d been running his hand through it.

“Juice? Beer? Something stronger?” Hunter asked him.

“
Soda. I’m off-duty but I’ve still got to drive.” Hunter got them both a beer. He glanced over at Cady with a raised eyebrow.

“Just a soda, please,” she said. She’d never been much of a drinker.

Hunter brought over their drinks and sat beside her on the sofa.

“How are you feeling, Cady?” Stanson asked, sitting and looking her over. Hunter tensed beside her, sending him a glare. She patted his thigh.

“A lot better, thank you.”

Stanson nodded. “So, you want to tell me what interest Black-Gray
Investigations has in that building? Who hired you to watch it?”

“Actually, no one.”

Stanson sat back, a surprised look on his face. “Then why were you there?”

“I believe
there’s a connection between whatever is going on there and my sister’s death.”

“Wha
t? How?”

“First, you tell me what interest the police have in that building.”

Stanson drew out a breath. “Fine, but I think it goes without saying that I wouldn’t be here telling you this unless I knew you could keep your mouth shut. We’ve been watching that place for a few weeks now. We believe it’s a high-class brothel.”

So, it had been about sex.

“Why all the surveillance?” Hunter asked. “Has to be more than just a brothel.”

“Well for a start, there’s the clientele, a lot of prominent people that we don’t want to piss off without probable cause. The other is that we don’t think it
’s just any brothel. We believe the women working there are illegals being forced into prostitution.”

“What? You think the women are being held there against their will?” Cady asked in horror.

“You must have a good reason to think that,” Hunter said.

Stanson nodded tiredly. “W
e have one of the girls. Found her beaten nearly to death nearly three weeks ago in an alley. In the beginning she wouldn’t talk, but eventually we managed to convince her that we weren’t going to deport her and that we could keep her safe. She’s Serbian, came here on a tourist visa and stayed. She was kidnapped from an alley behind the restaurant she worked in. She’s guessing someone who knew she was here illegally sold her out. They brought her here, forced her to work as a sex slave. Some of the things she told us…” Stanson shook his head, looking sick. “She said she was beaten after she was caught trying to escape. They must have thought she’d die before she was found, but luckily someone saw her and called for an ambulance.”

“
God, I feel sick,” Cady said.

“So, what do you have?” Stanson asked.

Hunter relayed everything they had so far. Stanson got up and paced, obviously thinking. “So you think Worthington may have had something to do with this? But he lived in Chicago, not Dallas.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to
have anyone connect the dots back to him in Chicago,” Hunter said.

“What sort of role could he have had? Do you think he was just a customer?”
Stanson asked.

“Angie took most of these photos while she was still working for Worthington.
Did he come to Dallas often?” Cady questioned.

“I’ll find out,” Hunter said. “Maybe he was just a customer, but part of me feels like he was up to his neck in this shit. Was th
e Serbian woman living in Dallas when she was taken?”

“No, she was taken in Chicago.” Stanson looked sick.

“So, maybe Worthington played a role in sourcing these women,” Hunter guessed.

Stanson ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve got to think about this. I need to tell my boss about what you’ve found and see what he wants to do with it.”