The Exposure (22 page)

Fuck, that stung.

He rubbed his thumb over both nipples again and then quickly flogged them again. The combination of pleasure and pain made her more aroused than she'd thought possible when she first walked into this room.

Was Luke watching? Did her response to Fritz turn him on? The German Dom repeated his actions, but when he stood for the fourth and last time, she saw his fingers tighten on the handle of the flogger.

As expected, the last strike held no pleasure, only pain, and unlike the others, afterward he didn't caress her. Instead he took a step back.

“I suggest you take me at my word when I tell you that you don't want that particular punishment on your pussy.”

She nodded.

“Words, Ms. Bishop.”

“Yes, Herr Brose.”

Satisfied, he turned away and walked back to the desk, put the flogger down, and faced her, leaning his hip on the edge of the desk. “Tell me, Miss Bishop, why are you here?”

“I'm sorry, Sir. Can you elaborate on what you mean? Here in this room, or here at this house?”

“Apologies. Why are you here at this house?”

“Today Luke and I had to finish the photo shoot, Sir.”

“And when you were here last weekend?”

A slight feeling of unease started to creep into Meagan's body.
She couldn't put her finger on exactly why, but something was off. Once more, she tried looking through the two-way glass. Nothing. For all she knew Luke wasn't even watching anymore.

“Eyes on me.”

“Yes, Herr Brose. I came over last weekend.”

“Why?”

“Because Luke invited me to dinner.”

“And you stayed all night?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Was this the first time you spent the night?”

“No, Herr Brose.”

The unease she felt earlier began to lessen a bit. From the way it sounded, Luke was interested only in her feelings for him. Nothing more. They would finish this scene, and then she would kick his ass. Honestly. An interrogation scene? To get to the bottom of her feelings? It was almost pathetic.

Some small part of her brain chimed in that Luke was not pathetic or anywhere close to it. There was probably another reason for the interrogation scene. She flexed her hands, urging him mentally to hurry up.

“I'm not going to ask you how many times you've spent the night before.”

Meagan sighed in relief. She was afraid that because of the circumstances, her head wasn't clear enough to correctly determine the number. Fritz watched her intently from his place by the desk. His stare almost made her feel guilty. But what did she have to feel guilty about?

Oh no.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

“Interesting expression, Ms. Bishop.” His eyes momentarily flashed with victory. What was that about?

He pushed away from the desk, taking a ruler with him. He walked toward her slowly, slapping the ruler against his palm as he did so. In the otherwise silent room, the sound resonated. And though she was expecting it, each slap made her jump slightly.

“So skittish.” The ruler slap against his palm again. “Are you starting to figure out why you're here? Here in this room, that is.”

“Not really, Sir.”

He didn't acknowledge her answer. “You're so vulnerable in this position. Every inch of you exposed and offered to me.” He stood by her side and ran a finger down her arm to her palm, where he gently swirled his forefinger at the base of her thumb. “You've been a naughty girl, Ms. Bishop. Tell me what you've done. Confess and I will go easy on you. Deny anything and I will punish you thoroughly.”

Her heart started to pound. Did Luke know? If so, how much? Was he aware of the blackmail? Maybe he wasn't sleeping when she got out of his bed after all. Had he set up this elaborate scene to get her to confess?

No. There was no way he could know. No possible way.

But Fritz stood there with a knowing expression on his face. Fuck. He knew something.

“Come now, Ms. Bishop.” His voice was softer, but somehow that made him seem only more dangerous. “Let us be reasonable. There's no need to make this hard on yourself.”

“I, uh, I'm,
shit
.”

He picked up a black pair of gloves from the top of the desk and ever so slowly put them on. All the while watching her. He shrugged and wiggled his now gloved fingers. “Of course, it doesn't matter one way or the other to me, you see. In fact, I often find I enjoy a stubborn suspect.”

Suspect.
He knew. They both did.

“How much do you know?” she asked.

“I believe I already gave you a warning about asking me questions, Ms. Bishop. You will atone for that mistake in a few minutes.”

“If you already know, why are you doing this?”

“Another question? My, my, my, you are a naughty one, aren't you?”

She clamped her mouth shut to keep from saying anything else. He sat perfectly still, never taking his eyes off her. Finally, he stood.

“I didn't hear a safe word or a confession.” He stood and crossed the floor to stand before her again. He leaned down and his breath was hot against her ear. But when he spoke, he spoke in German and it sounded scary as fuck.

“I don't understand, Sir.”

“You weren't supposed to.” He took a knife from his pocket. She stopped breathing, her eyes never leaving the blade as it sliced the ropes around her ankles and wrists. “Go bend over the desk.”

She wondered what he would do next. Was he still trying to get information out of her? Or was he just going to punish her? She reached the desk, and as her hands slid across the top, she noticed how they trembled.

Behind her came the sounds of opening and closing doors, a large thump, the trickling of water, and something electronic being turned on that filled the silence with a low whirling sound. Her breathing increased and she felt as if she was going to throw up. She couldn't do this. She couldn't be in this room. Not with that man and not like this.

She jumped when his gloved hand touched the back of her neck. The cool leather sent her over the edge. “Red.”

His hands dropped and immediately Luke entered the room. She glared at him. “Was this really necessary?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Yes, I want to hear it from you.”

She took a deep breath. “I'm being blackmailed. I was told you have some pictures they wanted. If I provide the pictures, they won't hurt me or do anything with the information they have on me.”

Luke's dropped mouth and wide eyes suggested he didn't know as much as she thought he did. “You're with me because you are being blackmailed?”

“You set up this elaborate scene and you didn't know what was going on?”

“Damn it, Meagan, answer my question first.” There was something more than shock in his voice. There was anger, yes, but there was also sadness.

“Only in the beginning.”

He flinched at her words, but she was the one who felt as if she had been punched in the gut. His expression . . . She couldn't bear to look at him.

“Get out of my studio.”

She held out her hand, as if to touch him. “Luke?”

He took a step back. “Don't touch me. Get the fuck out.”

“Just let me explain.” If she could only make him see that even though she was with him in the beginning because of the blackmail, that was no longer the case. She wanted to be with him. And only him.

“I don't need or want your explanation.” Now when he looked at her, there was no surprise, no shock, and no sadness. Only anger. “I get that you wanted to get back at me for what I did years ago. I can understand you being angry about that. But for
you to invade my privacy, to sneak into my office, and to take my pictures.” He shook his head. “I need you to leave so I can think.”

Hot tears filled her eyes, but she knew now was not the time to reason with Luke. She would call him later, when he'd calmed down. She nodded. “I'll just get my things.”

He didn't
reply.

T
wo days later, Abby invited Meagan over to their New York penthouse. She said she and Nathaniel were staying in the city, doing a bit of shopping, and just hanging out, but he had a meeting in the afternoon and would she like to come over? Nathaniel's aunt had their two children. Apparently, Lynne was taking a short vacation.

Meagan had been to the penthouse only once. That was several months ago, when she had to apologize to Abby for the nightclub incident. The club that was now Luke's.

Damn, it hurt just thinking his name.

During the last two days, he had not attempted to contact her. Nor had she been in touch with him. She tried to tell herself it was okay, but the truth was she missed him. She missed his lazy smile, his easygoing attitude, and even his voice when he'd issue a command. Now that he wasn't in her life, she realized how lonely she was.

Thank goodness for friends like Abby, who invited her over to hang out. She hadn't told Abby about the breakup yet, but maybe she'd tell her today. Maybe her friend would have some advice on what she should do. She knew what she wanted to do: tell The Taskmaster to fuck off and leave her alone. Every time she thought about it, it sounded better and better. The only thing keeping her from doing it was her brother. She didn't want to mess up his life any more than he'd already messed it up by himself.

And then she'd think, why should she worry? He was a grown man; he could take care of himself.

Because she'd promised her dad. She cursed herself for making that promise.

Round and round her mind went, and since she couldn't decide what to do, she did nothing. Which made her only more restless. Something had to give. And soon.

Abby was all smiles opening the penthouse door. “Hey, come on in.”

When she stepped inside, she heard male voices and raised an eyebrow at her friend.

Abby waved her hand as if shooing a fly. “Nathaniel decided to have his meeting in the living room. Said the office here wasn't large enough for everyone.”

“I thought he had an office in the city?” Not that she minded. It was Nathaniel's house; he could do anything he wanted.

“He does, but this is private, personal business. About the new club. Luke's here.”

They'd been walking down the hall while they talked and the exact minute Abby said “here” was the exact moment they made it to the living room and Meagan came face-to-face with Luke. To be fair, Fritz and Cole were also sitting with Luke and
Nathaniel, but she couldn't look anywhere except at Luke. He was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

Other than Fritz, she didn't think anyone else knew what had happened between them. She could only hope he wouldn't say anything now.

“Excuse us, gentlemen,” Abby said, totally oblivious to the shock their entrance had caused. She nodded at Luke. “We're just passing through.”

Damn it. She should have told Abby about the breakup.

But of course, Nathaniel, being Nathaniel, reached out and grabbed Abby as she passed and pulled her into his lap. “Glad you could stop by,” he said with a grin.

Abby made a noncommittal noise.

“I'm glad Nathaniel waylaid you,” Cole said and looked over to Meagan. “You, too. We have a few questions and since none of us are women or submissives, we need your help.”

Meagan risked a quick peek at Luke. His lips were pressed together tightly, and from the looks of it, it was taking all his strength not to speak what was really on his mind.

“We'd love to help,” Abby said from her spot on Nathaniel's lap. “Wouldn't we, Meagan? Look, there's a seat beside Luke—you can sit there for a few minutes.”

And there was nothing she could do in response to that other than sit beside the man who now hated her. She schooled her features as best she could, knowing she wasn't going to be anywhere near
I'm totally okay with this,
but hoping she wasn't giving off the
Please God let there be a hole in the floor and let me fall right through it
vibe either. But as soon as she sat down and Abby looked their way, the smile disappeared from her face and she knew it hadn't worked. Either the expression on Luke's face or her own told Abby everything she needed to know.

Meagan cleared her throat. “What can we do for you? I'm a woman, but I don't identify as a submissive. I'm a switch.”

There was nothing from Luke. No words. No movement. She wasn't sure he was breathing.

Of course by now, everybody had noticed the tension between her and Luke.

Cole cleared his throat. “Switch works.”

Across the room, Abby looked as though she was bursting to ask what was wrong with Meagan. Instead she turned to Cole. “What are your questions?”

“We were discussing the new club. For the dressing rooms, should we separate by gender or by role?”

“If you do it by role,” Meagan mused, “where does that leave switches?”

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at Cole. “She makes a good point.”

“So we go by gender,” Cole said. “Do you think everyone would be okay with submissives and Dominants sharing the same room to change in?”

“I'm okay with that,” Abby said. “I'd rather share with a Domme than a man.”

“How would same-sex players feel?” Meagan asked.

The men nodded and Nathaniel replied, “We'll have to take that into consideration.”

Meagan really hoped that was all the men wanted to know. Normally, she wouldn't mind discussing a new club, but with Luke right beside her still not moving and still not talking, she wanted only to escape as quickly as possible.

“How is your New York club set up, Luke?” Cole asked.

“The dressing rooms are set up by gender.” Luke's voice was tight. “But there are separate role-specific rooms as well.”

Meagan knew for a fact there weren't any rooms designated for switches. Any other time, she would be jumping all over Luke to bring that up. Not today.

“Do you have a room for switches?” Nathaniel asked. Beside her, Luke tensed even more and Abby whispered something into her husband's ear. Meagan would bet money it was about her, but Nathaniel only nodded and didn't give any indication as to what his wife had spoken to him about.

Luke responded with, “No.”

“How does that work?” Cole looked at Meagan. “If there's not a room designated for switches, which one do you use?”

Meagan balled her hands into fists so tight, she knew she'd have nail marks on her palms. She shot Abby a
let's get out of here
look. However, Cole had asked her a question. “I know before I get to the club which role I'll be in for that particular night. I dress appropriately at home, and use the corresponding room when I arrive at the club.”

“Thank you,” said Cole.

“I think we could set up something similar,” said Nathaniel. “Luke?”

“I don't see why not.”

An uncomfortable silence followed, and she felt as if everybody was watching her even though she knew that wasn't the case.

Abby gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. “If you guys don't have any more questions for us, we'll be on our way.”

“Thank you,” Nathaniel said.

Meagan stood up and followed Abby out of the room. As soon as they were outside of earshot, Abby turned to her. “So, what the hell happened between you and Luke?”

*   *   *

L
uke braced himself for the questions as soon as the ladies left the room and he wasn't surprised when Nathaniel spoke first.

“Luke? Is everything okay?”

No, he wanted to shout. Everything was not okay. It could not be further from okay. At the moment, though, he wasn't sure he wanted to explain everything to the gathered men. Especially not to Nathaniel, who had never cared for Meagan and simply put up with her because Abby worked for her and genuinely liked her.

It shouldn't have made a difference. He shouldn't care what people thought of Meagan. Yet somehow he did. He cleared his throat. “Meagan and I have been working on a project and it's over now. In more ways than one.”

Sitting in a chair near Nathaniel, Fritz remained silent. After Meagan had left a couple of days ago—well, after he kicked her out—Fritz had seen how upset he was and didn't push the issue. He left after telling Luke to call him if he wanted to talk. At the time, talking was the last thing on Luke's mind. But maybe talking now would be beneficial.

“As you probably know, Meagan and I were together for a short period of time several years ago.” He stopped, trying to decide how much he wanted to share and making sure Meagan wasn't within earshot. “We've been working together on a project of mine, a BDSM-themed, erotic photography book, and we ended up going beyond the original agreement.”

He wasn't going to tell them about the blackmail. He glanced over to Fritz and the man nodded, his indication that he would play this conversation however Luke wanted.

“The short of it is, we were right all those years ago to end it. We aren't good together.”

“If you ask me”—Cole watched him carefully—“I say you both looked miserable just now. In fact, I recognize the expression you both had.”

“And what was that?” Luke asked.

“It's the same look I had when I was trying to convince myself I didn't need my Sasha.” Cole shook his head, remembering. “I only made us both miserable.”

“I remember,” Nathaniel added. “That night at the New York club, when you said it was too soon for either of you and that anything beyond her training wasn't in the plan.”

Fritz laughed. “Cole told me the same thing. ‘Fuck the plan,' I told him.”

Cole pointed at the other Dominant. “You can stop right there, Fritz. You're a fine one to talk.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh, really?” Cole looked as if he was having too much fun teasing his friend. “Do you think it somehow escaped my attention that you have a thing for my ex?”

Fritz didn't deny anything. “You know I would never do anything to take your slave away from you.”

“Of course I do. But she's no longer my slave and yet, here you sit, not having made any type of move.”

“The time isn't right.”

“The time will never be right.” Cole's eyes widened and he snapped his fingers. “I know. Sasha mentioned hosting another tea party. I can invite you and Kate over.”

“Seriously?” Nathaniel chimed in. “Your collared submissive serving tea to your ex-slave? That takes balls, man.”

Cole thought for a minute. “Yeah, Sasha would probably have my balls. But don't worry. I'll think of something.”

Luke was thankful the conversation between Cole and Fritz
kept everyone's attention away from him, but as soon as Cole stopped talking, they all looked at him.

“No. Never,” he said. “Meagan and I are finished. Forever this time.”

*   *   *

T
hankfully, the office Abby led Meagan to was far enough away from the men that they couldn't hear their conversation. Why did it seem as if every time she visited Abby,
he
was there?

“I'm so sorry,” Abby said as soon as they were in the office and the door closed. “Did you and Luke split? I didn't know.”

“It's much worse than that.” Meagan knew she needed to say the words, but they wouldn't come.

“He found out.” Abby said them for her.

“Worse, he only had an idea something was going on and he set up an interrogation scene with Brose out there.”

Abby shivered. “Damn. I don't even want to think about that.”

“Believe me, it wasn't much fun doing it.”

“What did he say when he found out?”

Meagan closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill. “He told me to get the fuck out of his studio and out of his house. He wouldn't listen to me or let me explain.”

Abby leaned forward and took her hand. “I was afraid it would come to this when you didn't tell him. I'm so sorry.”

“There's no way to get him back, either, is there?”

“Trust once lost is difficult to get back.” She squeezed her hand lightly. “But it is possible. I know it is. But I don't want to give you false hope. I think that's worse than no hope.”

“I just wish I knew what to do.”

“Have you been in contact with whoever is blackmailing you?”

“No, not yet. He gave me more time with this. I have until the end of the week.”

“What are you going to do?”

Meagan thought about what she wanted to do: curl up in a ball and cry, lock herself in her house and never come out. But those weren't options. She had a life and she had to live it. Even if that life now stretched out before her, looking more and more lonely every day. “Maybe I'll get a dog,” she tried joking. “Surely, I can't mess that up.”

“Seriously, though.” Abby's voice sounded soft and soothing. It was a balm after Luke's tirade.

“I'm thinking about going to the police and telling them everything. Then I can contact the blackmailer and tell him to fuck off.”

“Or if you go to the police, you could give them the details and let them go after him.”

Meagan thought about both possible options. While there would be satisfaction in telling The Taskmaster what he could do with himself, she knew deep down that it would be for the best if she let the police handle it. They were more capable than she was, and in doing this she could wash her hands of the entire situation.

“Yes,” she said, agreeing with Abby. “I should probably go to the police. My one big concern, though, is whether he has any more naked pictures of me. I feel so . . . violated. I'd hate for one of those to get out.”

“If you go to the police, and give them all the information you have, maybe they can take care of it for you.”