Oliver (18 page)

Merideth studied her reflection in the floor-length mirror and smoothed her palm over the satin-paneled lace. A high collar framed the back of her neck. A black leather duster highlighted her long dress. She’d selected black lace thigh highs and patent leather stiletto heels. Leather gloves were tucked inside the duster pocket. Her hair was piled high with little wisps drifting against her face here and there. Elegance she’d thought lost.

Cooper Hawkins had met Oliver’s challenge and then some. The swarthy man oozed power yet wasn’t afraid to park his tight ass behind a sewing machine. He’d said little during the long flight. She was his priority, nothing more. Now he too was drawn into the game they were about to enter. He was Hawk, Dom escort to Becky’s Vixen. Merideth had to admit they were a striking couple, but no more so than the other members of her growing cadre. All awaited her in the penthouse’s living room.

The community had done the impossible while Merideth traveled. They’d cornered four of the six men responsible for hurting her. While she and her inner circle prepared, Clint Waltham had the men sequestered in a private residence on the Upper West Side. A residence she’d visited often and knew very well.

A limo waited downstairs for Merideth and her cadre of Dommes and Doms. She’d even pressed Lucas into a role uniquely suited to him, promising great rewards later. They’d be a force to reckon with when they walked into that home.

“You look ravishing.” Oliver brushed his fingers down her arm until he reached her fingertips. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each one. “I want to devour you. Peel the layers of lace away inch by inch until you are bare and writhing beneath me.” He pressed his cheek to hers, staring at their reflection in the mirror. “You’ll wear lace gloves for me later?”

She hugged his arm around her waist. “I will. Lace panties too.”

Emitting a low growl, he stabbed his erection into her back. “We’re ready when you are, love. Lead the way.”

A sudden attack of nerves hit her when Merideth stepped into the living room. She was nothing compared to the three Dommes standing before her. Maneater, Soleil, and Raven had lived their parts for years. Lady Begood was a fledgling compared to them. Yet here she stood, preparing to give
them
direction. She wasn’t worthy. She had no right.

Becky—Vixen—cut in front, forcing Merideth’s gaze to fall on her and not the seasoned professionals. Dressed to kill in Merideth’s former attire, she fit the part to perfection. Her blonde hair flowed around her shoulders in a mass of curls. Makeup added years, and her carriage gave her maturity.

Lucas stepped forward as well, the black leather case of Meredith’s tools for the night in his hand. Rounding out their group were the other two Doms. Hawk devoured Vixen with hunger in his eyes. It would be interesting to see how that played out. Ben’s Sledge belonged to Rachel’s Raven and scared Merideth to bits with his steely silence right now. She absorbed the look, determined to make it her own. It was exactly what she needed to face the ordeal to come.

The men were dressed casually compared to the women. After all, tonight was about the power of women, taking control, intimidation. Black seemed the central theme of dress tonight. Slacks and shirts, wide belts, boots, and that don’t-fuck-with-me-or-my-woman aura that empowered Merideth with every inhale. If only she could move or speak…anything except stand there and feel inadequate.

Maneater edged to the forefront. “We have your back. This is your scene. No egos here, only support. Nothing moves forward without your command.”

Merideth blessed the woman for helping calm her nerves. “Thank you. The scene’s in play.”

The Dommes flanked her as they trouped to the elevator and out to the waiting limo. One of the Doms always managed to be one step ahead, openings doors, clearing the way. People stopped and stared. Whispers filtered toward her. How many knew their true purpose tonight? How many took pictures and videos, monitoring their every move? Would any follow?

That made her smile. Looky-loos would make it as far as the sidewalk, where they’d learn it was merely a costumed event for Lighted Portals at Senator Langstrum’s home. Some would remain, hoping to catch celebrity photos. By the end of the evening, paparazzi might be lurking. Merideth’s team would use all of it to their benefit.

Once she was ensconced in the limo, her nerves kicked in again. Oliver’s hand found her knee. Warmth skittered up her thigh. She watched him idly finger her lace dress, thinking of how he longed to peel the layers away and take her. If they were alone, Merideth would have eased the lace away from her wrist and brought it to his lips. She glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. Everyone seemed locked into their own worlds. Lucas was the exception. His gaze was riveted on Oliver’s caresses. An erection swelled his trousers. Lust distracted her too much.

“I’d like to review the contents of my case,” she told him. “I know everything’s there, but I want to reset my head.” And block out the images of her tangled in bed with Oliver and Lucas.

Lucas popped open the satchel without hesitation. Rubber gloves, gingerroot plugs, capsaicin cream, whip, cat, flogger.

“You shouldn’t have to dirty your hands with these bastards.” This from Sledge. “Let one of us have the pleasure.”

“Hell, let us all have the pleasure,” Hawk added.

“It would have to be one of you.” Oliver pulled his hand from her. “Because if I get my hands on them, I’ll whip them to within an inch of their miserable lives.”

“Tempting, but let’s stick to the plan,” Merideth said. It was a good one, carefully choreographed. Although the concept of actually having to physically touch these men to get her point across turned her stomach.

Merideth closed the lid, and they retreated back into silence for the remainder of the ride. The miles slipped by in record time. As she expected, a crowd milled across the street from the home, drawn by the line of vehicles disgorging guests. Merideth’s team exited the limo with slow precision, earning more speculation, she was certain. She was last, grasping Oliver’s proffered hand in escort. Again she took the lead. The door ahead opened as they neared. A butler stood ready. Behind him a beaming Sarah Langstrum waited. Her dark hair was meticulously piled atop her head. She gave Merideth time to cross the threshold, then rushed forward, hands extended.

“Darling, you look beautiful.” She kissed Merideth on both cheeks. “We’ve missed you,” she whispered. “Somehow I’ve managed to keep him together, thanks to your guidance. When I heard…” She set Merideth at arm’s length. “The party’s in full swing.” She motioned toward the overflowing ballroom to the right but pulled Merideth and her entourage toward a smaller room on the left. “You know the way. Sorry I can’t watch them crumble. I have to play hostess. Herman’s promised me a full report.” After a parting hug, Sarah left, pulling the casement doors closed behind her.

Oliver took the case from Lucas. “Let’s get this over with.”

Merideth cleared her throat. “My scene. Remember…
love
.”

He rolled his eyes. The ladies snickered. Nevertheless, Oliver stepped back and returned control to her. She thanked him with her most regal nod, dredged from the recesses of her memory, then brushed by and on to the door leading to the Langstrum “rumpus room” in the converted basement.

Again she was expected. The police commissioner and senator both stood outside the entrance. They knelt in homage to her when they caught sight of her. The honor humbled her.

Merideth touched their shoulders. “Please…stand. I am no longer that person.”

Clint looked up. “You will always be that person to me. Your absence in my life has been—”

“Shh.” She pressed her finger to his lips. “A discussion to be had another time. For now, a task awaits.”

As they stood, the men acknowledged Oliver and the ladies behind him with nods. Lucas had remained upstairs with Vixen, Sledge, and Hawk to prepare for their own entrance.

Herman Langstrum waved Merideth inside. More of her former clients, both male and female, knelt. None of them had hidden their appearance, but she was certain their captives had never glimpsed their features. She motioned everyone to their feet. Her targets waited at the far end of the black room. All four men were bound naked and spread to spanking benches. Black hoods covered their heads. Each man faced the Saint Andrew’s cross on the wall. Their asses pointed toward the audience.

“All is ready, Mistress,” Clint advised.

“Excellent.” Her heels tapped out her slow approach. Tension clenched their ass cheeks. “One of their coconspirators was foolish enough to lie in wait for me at the airport. He’ll be joining us in a moment.”

Merideth took a stance before the men. “Remove their hoods.” Another order instantly obeyed. Merideth fisted the first man’s hair and yanked his head up. A ball gag filled his mouth. “Remember me, pretty boy?” She shoved his head down. “Show me the others.”

Her sister Dommes each took a man and hauled his head up by the hair.

“Almost all accounted for. Anyone care to share the whereabouts of your missing friend?” No one responded. “Very well. Your friend upstairs wasn’t very forthcoming either. Let’s see if we can change your minds.” A snap of her fingers told the women to release them and Oliver to bring her case.

He opened it wide, allowing the men a good look inside if they should so choose. Merideth didn’t wait for a reaction. She slipped on the rubber gloves, picked up the bag of gingerroot plugs, and walked behind her subjects. With no warning, she shoved the gingerroot plugs into their asses. It didn’t take long for the burn to start. She watched them squirm for a bit, then retrieved the capsaicin cream from the case. She waved it under their noses, letting them get a good whiff.

Eyes widened this time. They fought their bonds to get away. A futile waste of energy. Smiling, she filled her palm with the lotion and smeared it liberally over their buttocks, thighs, balls, and cocks. Fury blazed behind tear-filled eyes. That changed to muffled pleas for mercy as the burn grew in intensity.

“Ungag them so they can catch a good breath.” She stripped off the gloves, shoved them into a zipped plastic bag, and tossed it into the case. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m unfeeling.” She extracted her leather gloves from her pocket and slowly eased them onto her fingers. “Whip, please.” She extended her hand to Oliver. He dutifully placed it in her palm.

Merideth swung and let fly, cracking it between two of the men. She smiled to herself when they started.

“Now, Mistress?” Vixen asked from the back.

“Yes, bring in their friend. They can see for themselves what happens when they’re unwilling to share information. Who knows? A session on the cross might finally loosen his tongue.”

Sledge and Hawk dragged Lucas into the room. He was naked, hooded, his back made up to look like he’d taken the whipping of his life. In the dim light, her targets would never realize the difference. He hung limply between their arms, seemingly unconscious, his toes raking the floor.

“Bind him to the cross.”

This ruse took more courage than anything else. Control was paramount, or she’d hurt one of the men she loved. Lucas’s faith was unwavering. That alone would see her through this little sting operation.

Bound in place, Lucas emitted a groan. His presence had the full attention of the other men. His body build would be enough to fool them.

“Your friends are on the floor behind you,” she said. “I will have names. I want that sixth person. Give it.”

Lucas shook his head.

“Very well.” She flashed the whip around him, striking the wall. He flinched and cried out all the same. With all the fake wounds covering his back, the others wouldn’t know otherwise.

Merideth spun around and struck the floor in front of their faces. “You’re next,” she hissed and tossed the whip to Oliver. “Flogger.”

He snapped it into her hand. She swished it through the air, stopping just shy of lashing the third man. He whimpered anyway. Another spin returned her to Lucas.

“I’m going to break you one way or the other.” She whipped the falls toward him.

Lucas arched and screamed, scaring her to the point she wondered if she’d hit him overly hard. Vixen had painted his ass a rosy red to simulate a hard flogging already having taken place, so it was impossible to tell. When he sagged into his bonds and started to sob, she knew they were golden.

She started her attack anew, giving him what looked like a serious beating, when each time it was the kiss of the falls he loved so well. Merideth knew he was hard as a rock. The second this was over, she’d see he was duly rewarded. Each strike, each of his screams, tore the men down further. Every muscle in her body ached. It was time to try a different tactic.

“Give me the name.” Her clue to the others they were moving to the next level.

No response from Lucas.

“Very well.” She returned the flogger and retrieved the cat. Dragging it on the floor, she returned to her spot. “I’ll flail the skin off you if I have to.”

“Mistress, wait.” Oliver set the case down and hurried over. “Something’s wrong. I don’t think he’s…” He pushed his fingers to Lucas’s neck. Eyes wide, he shook his head. “He’s dead,” he gasped.

“Then take him down and throw him in the East River. There are four more. One of them’s bound to break. If not…” She shrugged. “No loss. Cover their damn heads. I’m tired of looking at them. As soon as the cross is empty, pick one and bind him to it.”

Sledge and Hawk dragged Lucas from the room.

Oliver reached for the second man. “You heard Mistress.”

“No no no.” He thrashed into the bench. “I’ll tell you everything. Everything.” Sobbing, the other three could only nod.

Clint saluted her work. They were his now. He had his own plan in place to take it from here.

Oliver slipped the cat from her fingers, placed it in the case, then motioned her toward the stairs with a touch of his hand to her lower back. The four Dommes followed. Merideth pulled off her leather gloves one finger at a time and shoved them into her pocket.