Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) (15 page)

“When did you first notice the items were missing?”

She appreciated that he didn’t smirk or smile at the item description. “This morning. I went to get dressed after showering. I opened the drawer, and that’s when I realized they were missing. Everything was here when I left for work yesterday morning.”

“How many?”

She shrugged. Who counted their bras and panties? “At least twenty pairs of underwear and six bras.”

“What kind? Regular or lingerie?” He looked at his notepad, but she knew he was studying her every reaction.

“Do you really need to know that?” The prosecutor in her searched for a way that information could be used to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.

He regarded her calmly. “Taking your underthings can indicate a desire for control. On the plus side, they weren’t shredded or destroyed, so whoever did this hasn’t reached a violent stage. Knowing what he or she has taken is helpful in profiling.”

“A mixture. They even took a pair from the laundry hamper.”

“Nobody was here yesterday when you arrived home?”

Katrina flicked her gaze to Keith, who stood as a sentinel behind the chair where she’d first discovered the joys of nipple clamps while straddling his lap. From there, he had a sweeping view of the common areas of her condo and the windows overlooking the parking lot. “Keith was waiting outside.”

Dustin didn’t miss a beat. “Does he have a key?”

She shook her head. “My parents have a key, but that’s all.”

“Do you keep one outside for emergencies?”

“No.”

“Are your keys ever out of your sight?” He looked around as he asked the question, no doubt searching for where she kept her keys when she was home.

She helped him out by pointing to her key rack. “When I’m at work, they’re either in my briefcase or locked in a drawer in my desk.” She ran her hand over her eyes. “Yesterday I had the feeling someone had been in my car while it was parked downtown.”

Keith perked up. “You didn’t tell me that.”

A little residual anger stirred. “You didn’t really give me a chance. Plus you didn’t actually believe me when I said someone had been in here Thursday night.”

Dustin touched her wrist, bringing her back to the moment. She focused on his kind eyes. “What happened Thursday night? Was that the first incident?”

Thinking back, she realized it wasn’t. “Last weekend, when I got home from my cousin’s house, my front door was unlocked. I was sure I’d locked it, but Keith said I probably forgot, and I let it go.”

She described the incident, relating only the relevant details. He didn’t need to hear anything about her relationship with Keith. Then she told him about her car.

Keith wandered across the room to the kitchen. He sipped coffee and stood at her counter. He set down his cup at the mention of her car. The sharpness of ceramic against granite clanged through the air.

It wasn’t like there had been time to tell him about the weirdness of somebody cleaning out her car. She hadn’t thought about it after he’d told her to undress. Dodging the suggestion of anger in Keith’s gesture, she adjusted an outside seam on her leggings. “I find it odd that someone would want to break into my condo just to move around a lamp or take my clothes or clean my backseat. It doesn’t seem like a normal stalker thing to do.”

“No,” Dustin agreed. “But stalkers aren’t normal. I’m going to need access to your cases. I’ll file formal requests Monday morning, but if you have anything on you, I’d like to get a jump on it.”

Katrina nodded. Keith hadn’t planned to let her work this weekend anyway. “My briefcase is in the closet.”

“One last thing before the team gets here to sweep your place.” He leaned forward, keeping his tone low. “Have you asked anyone else to train you?”

Surprised at his question, she considered the implications. Since she’d only asked Keith and Dustin, she didn’t see where that information was relevant. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He shrugged. “You ask someone, or if you’re overheard by someone you didn’t ask, you’re automatically a target. It could explain the disappearance of your underwear, though most pervs prefer used clothing to freshly laundered.”

“No, I haven’t.” She glanced over at Keith, but he was busy with his phone.

Dustin lifted a brow, and his gaze sidled to Keith and back. “It’s just a coincidence that you’ve had Rossetti over that many times in one week?”

Heat crept up her neck, and she felt her cheeks flame. “Dustin, don’t go there.”

“You have about ten seconds to finish that line of questioning.” Keith’s quiet warning sounded loud in the tenseness of the room. “Malcolm just pulled into the parking lot.”

Katrina started. “I told you to keep him out of this.”

“Sweep team is here too.” He pocketed his phone and regarded her with a firm look. “It’s ludicrous to think he won’t hear about this, and that he wouldn’t be pissed if it came from someone other than me or you. Now answer Dustin’s question so he can move forward.”

As usual, he had a point, and he hadn’t actually agreed to keep Malcolm in the dark. She turned back to Dustin. “Mostly coincidence, yeah. On Saturday he gave me a ride home from Layla’s, and we watched a game. Thursday is my parents’ bowling night, so they weren’t home. I was afraid. I called Keith because he lives the closest now that Mal is all the way in Ann Arbor.”

She trailed off, thinking of the way he’d dismissed her fears and accused her of fabricating an excuse to get him over here. Her doorbell chimed. She jumped, and her heart raced. It took her a moment to remember to breathe. An intruder wouldn’t ring the doorbell or knock. He’d just let himself in. She hated feeling so vulnerable and helpless. With Keith, feeling that way had been empowering. This was vastly different.

Dustin gripped her chin, something a Dom would do, not an agent questioning her. “Yesterday? Trina, don’t be vague. I need to know.”

She swallowed her fears. With Dustin and Keith here, nothing would happen to her. “Keith agreed to train me. But Dustin, you need to keep that private. Mal can’t know.”

Keith jogged down the stairs and pretended that rage and fear weren’t doing a tango in his stomach. He felt like an ass for ignoring her concerns. Of course Kat wouldn’t make up an intruder just to lure him to her place. She’d come right out and asked him to train her. When he’d refused, she’d asked Dustin. That rankled, but it proved she wasn’t being manipulative. He had to stop letting his distrust of all women tarnish his view of Kat.

Just because she wanted to change the terms of their association didn’t mean he could categorize her with the rest of the conniving females in his life. Though she hadn’t said it yet, she wanted more from him, and foreign parts of him were voting to let her have it. Other parts were firmly entrenched in horror at the idea of having an emotional attachment to a woman. If he didn’t watch it, he would begin treating her with the same callous passive-aggressiveness with which he usually approached a woman. He’d already slipped up a couple times, and she hadn’t let those incidents pass without comment.

The way her face had paled when the doorbell rang clutched at his dormant heart, evidence that organ wasn’t cold and dead. He wanted to kill the bastard who was doing this to her.

He disengaged the dead bolt and opened the door to find Malcolm and Darcy standing on the other side. Her hasty ponytail and the fact they both wore sweats told him they’d jumped out of bed and rushed over when he’d called.

Mal’s scruffy face couldn’t camouflage the hard glint in his eyes or the firm set of his jaw. “Where’s Trina? Is she okay?”

“Upstairs. Living room. Brandt’s questioning her now. She’s shaken, but she’s holding up.” It had been hell listening to her answer questions, watching her try to keep it together, and not being able to do anything. Now that Malcolm was here, that would change. “Did you bring the equipment?”

“It’s in the car. We’ll install as soon as the sweep team is done.”

Keith didn’t hold out much hope they’d find anything. He’d already searched the place. In the parking lot beyond the small front yard, an FBI van ignored the NO PARKING signs. Three agents emerged, more than the FBI would normally send. This was a sensitive case. Who knew what criminal had set his sights on her and for what reason?

“They’re here. It won’t be long,” Keith said.

“Good.” Darcy regarded them coolly. “The last thing she needs after being violated is to endure this. Malcolm, go up there and hug your sister. Hold her hand and let her know you’re there for her. Believe me, it makes a difference.”

Darcy viewed law enforcement the same way Keith regarded pretty much anyone who wanted more than a professional relationship. He didn’t judge her for that. Malcolm ushered Darcy up the stairs, and Keith stepped outside to brief the forensics crew.

It had never occurred to Keith that he should hold Kat’s hand or sit close to her for moral support. Darcy’s directive had illustrated just how bad it would be for Kat if he tried to have more than a Master/slave relationship. Nowhere in his past had anyone taught him what it meant to be empathetic or caring. He could identify those behaviors. He knew what they looked like, but he didn’t know when or how to apply them. Now that Darcy had said something, the signs stood out with neon clarity. Kat deserved a man who didn’t have to be told she needed a hug.

Without letting his personal failings get in the way more than they had, he briefed the analytic team and set them to work.

Katrina shaded her eyes as she peered up the ladder. “Darcy and I are going to go pick up something for dinner.”

Malcolm adjusted one of the night-vision, motion-activated cameras he and Keith had installed. This one covered the area leading up to her front walk and a portion of the parking lot.

“She’s been craving Chinese.” Malcolm finished something off with his power screwdriver. “I could go for something Mandarin, extra spicy.”

For as long as she could remember, she’d regarded her brother with a sort of hero worship. Though he was only two years older, he’d always looked out for her. Growing up, they’d almost never fought about anything. She felt a little guilty for sleeping with his best friend behind his back, but she could rationalize it by telling herself she was keeping the secret to protect their friendship.

“You’re not leaving.”

Katrina whirled around to find Keith standing a few feet behind her. A spot of grease smeared the corner of his shirt, and his face sported a day-old beard. The coarse stubble only made him look that much more foreboding.

The entire day, he’d been close, but he hadn’t said much, and he hadn’t touched her once. This wasn’t how she’d imagined this weekend unfolding.

A soft wind blew hair into her face. She swiped it away with one hand. “Why not?”

“It’s not safe. Because I said so. Pick whichever works for you.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d leveled an order at her like this, but it was the first time she realized he’d topped her in small ways the entire time she’d known him. Now that she recognized what he was doing, she wasn’t sure she liked it. In the bedroom, she could accept it. Outside of that context, it rubbed her the wrong way.

“Neither of them works for me. I refuse to let fear rule my life. I’m hungry, and so is Darcy. I’m sure you are as well. None of us has had much to eat today.” After the agents had left, she and Darcy had cleaned the fingerprint chemicals from everything and straightened up the general mess. Keith and Malcolm had scoped out locations for cameras and set about installing them. “Besides, whoever did this isn’t after me. They want something I have.”

Those emerald eyes bored into her like lasers, cutting through any sense of security she’d gained from having a house full of agents invested in making sure she was safe. “He took your underwear. It’s personal. He’s after you.”

That thought shook her far more than she cared to admit. All week, she’d been sweeping her concerns under the carpet. Now that pile of crap moaned and groaned. She stomped it back down. “Regardless, I refuse to live like a prisoner. I’ll be in public. With Darcy. I can kick ass if I need to.”

Behind them, Malcolm cleared his throat. “As much as I love watching you two go at it, I have to side with Trina. She can’t let this son of a bitch control her life.”

Keith glared at Malcolm over her shoulder. Katrina opted to stay out of their silent war. She went around Keith and entered her condo. She needed to grab her purse and see if Darcy was finished in the bathroom. Pregnant people spent a lot of time in that particular room. Or perhaps Darcy had used it to escape the presence of so many federal agents. While she loved Malcolm and seemed to have accepted Keith, she wasn’t overly comfortable around them in groups.

Katrina dug an older clutch from her closet. Dustin had advised her to use something smaller so she could put it in her briefcase instead of locking it in her desk at work. While he hadn’t indicated he thought anything was happening there—it was such a public and well-monitored place—he wanted her to take every precaution.

Downsizing meant evaluating the junk inside to separate what she really needed from those items she liked to have in case she needed them. The nail file made the cut, as did the tiny vial of hand cream, but the pocket mirror didn’t.

She didn’t look up when her door closed. Keith’s presence announced itself without visual confirmation. Every nerve ending tingled pleasantly, responding to his proximity. She wanted him to pin her down and remind her what it was like when not being in control brought feelings of safety and comfort.

“Kat, wait a half hour. I know you’re hungry. You had coffee for breakfast, and you barely ate anything for lunch. We’re almost finished. Then we’ll all go out and get something. Or have it delivered.”

His quiet tone didn’t plead. It laid out her alternatives in a calm, orderly manner. She liked that about him, but she wasn’t going to pick either of his options.

Stuffing her things in her newer, smaller purse, she rose to her feet. “I need to get out of here. I need a change of scenery.”

He caught her in his arms and held her close. It was the first time he’d shown a tender feeling all day. She rested her cheek on his chest and let her body relax against his hard length.

He stroked his hand over her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m going to kill the bastard who did this.”

She didn’t doubt it.

“Wait a half hour.”

In a half hour, they could have the food, she could have a break from being in her condo, and they could be back with dinner. Katrina didn’t really want to eat in public. This trip was as much a test of her nerves as it was an excuse to get away. “We’ll have dinner here by the time you guys finish.”

It was all the compromise she was willing to make, not that it was really a concession.

“I wasn’t asking, slave. If you go against my wishes and put yourself in needless danger, I will paddle your ass as punishment. I went light on you this morning. You won’t sit for a week this time.”

The gravity of his declaration scared her, especially since he seemed to have reversed his earlier stance on having an apology as the punishment. She wiggled, trying to break his tight hold. “Keith, let go.”

“No.”

Just like that, his dictates were nonnegotiable. She’d never seen this side of him. Well, she’d certainly asked for it.

That didn’t mean she accepted it. “We’re not in a scene, and you don’t get to control where I go, when, or with whom.”

He released her suddenly. She stumbled back a few steps and fell against the bed. More than a little shocked by this personality shift, she stared up with wide eyes. He met her gaze with pure steel.

“That’s where you’re wrong. You asked me to train you. You wanted to know what it was like to be a slave. This is it, Kitty Kat. I forbid you from leaving here without me.”

She straightened up and composed herself. “But you won’t stop me from walking out the door.” It was a hunch. She didn’t think he’d do something that would tip Malcolm off as to their changed relationship.

He shook his head. “I’ll never stop you from walking out on me. That’s your choice. It’s the coming back that you have to worry about.”

A weird feeling seized the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t quite fear. More like anticipation. She went with the curious feeling. In her whole life, she’d never pushed for anything. Even when she’d asked Keith to train her, she hadn’t forced the issue. Now that she was knee-deep in his world, she realized she had to be her own advocate. If she let him, Keith would railroad over her, just as he’d warned her.

“Do you have a preference for food? If not, I can just pick something out for you from wherever Darcy’s cravings take us.”

Keith pressed his lips together in a grim line. He parked his hands on his hips and waited, never altering his hard gaze or his firm expression.

She nodded. “So that’s how it’s going to be. Fine. You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.”

Surprise flickered deep within those emerald depths. Katrina didn’t wait to see what else was going to happen. She turned on her heel and left.

Outside, Malcolm kissed Darcy good-bye and grabbed Katrina’s arm before she and Darcy could walk away. “Trina, don’t be mad at Keith. This isn’t easy for him. It’s not easy for either of us. We want to catch this bastard and fix the problem. We will do it, but it’ll take time. If we didn’t love you so much, the wait wouldn’t be so bad.”

She touched a palm to his scruffy cheek. “It’s not easy for me either. I love you, big brother. I’m going with Darcy to get dinner, and Keith’s going to have to get over it.”

Mal’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything for the longest second, almost as if he was trying to make an important decision. Then the moment passed, and the choice was made. He pulled her closer and lowered his volume. “In this whole world, there are only two women Keith loves. Mom and you. With Mom, he can put her up on a pedestal as the perfect mother, and she’ll never disappoint him because she’s pretty awesome. But he doesn’t know what to do with you half the time. You don’t quite fit the image of a sister for him. You’re friends. I don’t know if you noticed this, but he doesn’t have any other female friends.”

She hadn’t noticed it. Keith seemed to have no problem gathering women. His fellow agents liked him, and the US attorneys he worked with—male and female—loved working cases with him. He was meticulous and thoughtful. Everything he touched turned out well. Justice was always served.

But Malcolm wasn’t finished sharing his insights. “Women serve one function for him, and as soon as they serve it, he loses respect for them and moves on. I’m not saying that’s right. He doesn’t know how to trust, not really, and he doesn’t know how to love or what to do with any fierce emotions he feels. He didn’t have good role models growing up. His childhood was a nightmare. You’re a different animal, though. He trusts you, and that confuses the hell out of him. He was coping until today. He just wants to keep you safe. I think if anything happened to you, he’d never forgive himself. That’s where he’s coming from.”

“What about Layla?” As far as Katrina could tell, Keith didn’t seem to have an issue with Layla.

Malcolm grinned. “She’s just one of the guys. I’m not sure he’s noticed that she’s a woman yet.”

Katrina didn’t know what to say, but Mal’s take explained why Keith treated her so differently now that they were sleeping together. She nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time we have an argument. Which might be when we get back.”

Malcolm looked over her shoulder at Darcy. “I told you it wasn’t personal, sweetheart. You have to give him time. He still can’t always figure out what to do with Trina and Mom.”

Darcy nodded thoughtfully, but she was grinning. “So you say. I’m the one who pushed you to forgive him. I think he already likes me.”

He kissed her again, and then Katrina and Darcy headed out.

“Thai.” Darcy buckled her seat belt. “I have a craving for something in peanut sauce. This kid better appreciate my sacrifices. That stuff gives me indigestion. Good thing I now carry antacid.”

Katrina knew a good Thai place nearby. She turned in that direction. “Did you guys find out the gender? And are you even sharing that information? I won’t be offended if you don’t want to say anything.”

Since she’d known Darcy only a few short months, they’d established a foundation for a friendship, but Katrina sometimes didn’t know what kinds of topics or questions were okay and which weren’t.

Darcy laughed. “I found out. Malcolm wants to be surprised. He said he wants to decorate everything in shades of green and yellow. Those are the colors of paint he bought for the nursery. So I’m keeping it to myself.”

She put her hand over the small bump in her abdomen and beamed. Katrina was happy for her brother and sister-in-law-to-be, but she was also a little jealous. While she didn’t want kids just yet—maybe not ever—she did want to have the kind of warmth and affection with Keith that these two had with each other.

“Okay, subject change.” Katrina flashed a grin to show that her feelings weren’t hurt. “Can I ask you a theoretical question about dominance and submission?”

If Darcy was surprised, she didn’t show it. “Sure. Are you thinking of trying it?”

Katrina decided she could reveal her intentions as long as she didn’t put a name to her Dom. Lawyer that she was, she kept her answer ambiguous. “I am.”

“Okay. What do you want to know?”

“I had questions about punishment.” Katrina realized she was chewing on her cuticle, a nervous habit she thought she’d kicked. Not only was she nervous about Darcy’s response—and her reaction to the question—but she worried about why Keith would suddenly change his policy on punishments. “Spanking, in particular.”

“Okay. I’ll warn you that I’m a masochist. I don’t consider the normal punishments as punishments.”

What does that mean?

She didn’t have to voice her question, because Darcy had forged ahead.

“A punishment is earned when a submissive violates an agreed-upon rule. That means it’s unique to the individual. I’ll be the first to admit there’s a difference between a punishment spanking and an erotic one, but for me, I’ll take either one any day. Malcolm has found either prohibiting or forcing orgasm to be a better bet.” A dreamy smile softened Darcy’s mouth and reflected in her eyes.

“What if no rules were agreed upon?” Keith had asked her to discuss limits and things like that, but she’d declined.

Darcy’s smile vanished. “Never play with a Dom if you haven’t agreed upon protocols and punishable behavior. If he’s inexperienced, then you’ll need to have that conversation a lot. When Scott and I first started out, we did a lot of trial and error. Open communication is the key. You have to be honest, even if it’s something that might hurt his feelings or offend him.”