Bared by the Billionaire (19 page)

But she needed to come clean with him, tell him about her deal with the Feds. Maybe there was something his legal team could do, some way to trap Patterson. She could wear a wire to their next meeting, try to get him to implicate himself in the scam to frame Jake, while admitting he knew she’d been innocent of the theft all along. Kyra decided that tonight, after their session, she’d sit Jake down, confess the truth, and ask for his help.

She felt much better afterwards and started getting turned on, wondering what new excitement he had planned for this evening. Natalie came by, ran a gloved hand over her, and announced she’d wait a few more days to wax again. Later, Carmen delivered a chef’s salad and a small pitcher of iced tea. Heading for the closet, she pulled out the evening’s attire—a short black skirt, see-through blouse, and frilly purple panties that would barely cover half of Kyra’s bottom.

“Have a good night, sweetie,” she said. She hugged Kyra, then headed for the hall. “Sorry I can’t stay to chat. I promised Enrique I’d be home early. He says he has a little surprise for me. You and I—we are lucky women, no?”

“We are lucky women, yes.” Kyra smiled as she closed the door. Then she took her time preparing for the evening. Tonight would be special. Tonight, she’d be honest with Jake. She’d even confess that she hadn’t really been a sub with Alejandro; that he, Jake Harmon, was her first and only dom. Tonight she’d finally be able to be herself.

* * *

Harmon opened the door to the lab, his face expressionless. Kyra shivered. This would be one of those nights where he started out tough and hard. She’d learned that those nights turned her on the most.

“Go to the mirror.”

She walked to the mirrored wall and stood in front of it. She saw Harmon come up behind her and fasten the virtual reality headgear over her eyes. She blinked, waiting for the scene to change. But she was still seeing herself there in the lab, with Harmon standing behind her.

“Watch yourself in the mirror while you take off your clothes.”

Obediently, Kyra began unbuttoning her blouse, staring at her reflection the whole time. She pulled it off and let it drop to the floor, then reached for the zipper on her skirt.

Her hands froze. The mirrored wall had become a tinted glass window. On the other side of the glass, Kyra could see half a dozen men sprawled on chairs and couches in a room in front of the glass. She didn’t recognize any of them, but every man had his eyes trained on her. She realized suddenly that she’d never been on the other side of the mirrored wall. That room, and the men in it, could very easily be real.

“Why did you stop?” Harmon’s voice was harsh.

“Those men, sir. They’re… watching me.”

“That’s none of your concern. You disobeyed a direct order. Go over to the bench and lie across it.”

Kyra took a few steps and her knees hit the padded bench she’d been on before. This was all so familiar and yet tonight it felt somehow darker, more depraved. She lay over the bench, trembling.

“Turn your face to the window.”

Kyra did as she was told. Harmon came over and stood to one side. He lifted her skirt and tucked it into her waistband. Running a hand over her skimpy panties, he paused and looked at his audience. Then he jerked the wisp of silk down around her knees.

A bolt of fear shot through her. Suddenly she hated this virtual world. It was too real. She could see her reflection in the tinted glass, but she could also see the leering faces of strange men. Harmon grabbed a thick wooden paddle and began whacking her with it. Kyra flinched, biting back a cry. He was really laying into her tonight. She’d never gotten used to the searing heat of a spanking, the white-hot pain that burst over her with the first stroke, building until it seemed she couldn’t bear it any longer without howling and begging for mercy.

He stopped abruptly. “Get up.”

She struggled to her feet, her panties around her knees.

“Now face the window and strip.”

Head down, she slid the panties off and reached around to unhook her bra, leaving the short black skirt still tucked up into her waistband and her stinging ass in full view, bared and red.

“You don’t get to hide. Look your audience in the eyes while you get completely naked for them.”

Blinking back tears of shame and embarrassment, she raised her head. One of the men had his cock out and was already jacking off as he stared at her. Kyra turned to Harmon then.

“Please, Jake, can we do a different fantasy?”

He grabbed her arm and yanked her closer to the window. “Look at them. You still think this is just another fantasy? You signed a contract. You’re my sub. I can do whatever I want to you.” He let go of her arm. “If you want to leave, go ahead and leave. Now. Or else do as you’re told.”

She didn’t know why he was being so cruel. This didn’t feel like their usual D/s scenes. He sounded bitter, angry. Kyra wanted desperately to please him, to hear him tell her once again how much she aroused him. She bit her lip and stood there, silent, hoping his mood would pass if she threw herself into his fantasy, making it come alive the way he’d done for all of hers.

He waved his arm and she saw one of the men get up and walk through the door next to the glass wall. He came up beside them and Harmon pulled her arms behind her back, turning her to face the glass so the others could see. The man reached for her and Kyra gasped when he pinched her nipple cruelly between his fingers. He laughed and ran his hand down between her legs.

“She’s already wet,” he said, turning and waving his fingers in the air in front of the glass so the others could see. Then he got close to her face and deliberately ran his tongue up and down each finger.

Now a second man got up and came into the room. Harmon turned her sideways and forced her down so she was bent over at the waist. The man stepped behind her and grabbed her aching bottom with both hands.

“You said I could spank her,” he said to Harmon. “Her cheeks are flushed now but I want to brand this nice hot ass with my own red stripes. I want to do it while Gary fingers her pussy. I want to hear her squeal and beg to be fucked.”

“All the paddles and whips are on that table. Pick any one you want.”

Kyra was sick with grief. She’d been wrong. Harmon didn’t love her. He couldn’t possibly do what he was doing—handing her over to total strangers like this—if he cared for her at all. She couldn’t tell any more how much of this nightmare was fantasy and how much reality. Suddenly all she wanted was for this horrible virtual world to disappear so she could leave here forever.

She began struggling when she saw the new man walk up behind her with a cane. At the first swish, she let out a shriek. The pain was so intense she thought she’d faint. The thug in front of her laughed again and plunged two fingers into her pussy. This time Kyra fought for real. Still wearing her stilettos, she kicked out and heard the man behind her howl.

Harmon pulled her over to the spanking bench again. Kyra felt him fastening the restraints around her wrists while another pair of hands behind her tightened the straps around her ankles, spreading her legs wide. The man with the cane delivered another fierce whack to her burning bottom. This time Kyra couldn’t hold it in any longer. She let out a wail.

“I need to shut you up,” Harmon said. He stood in front of her and unzipped his pants. His cock was rigid. “Suck it. Suck my cock.”

She took him in her mouth gently, lovingly, hoping that it would soften his mood. But this Harmon was cold and arrogant, a savage stranger. He grabbed her head with one hand and held his cock at the base with the other as he pumped his hard length into her. Kyra heard another swish and moaned as the cane connected with her aching backside again.

Her eyes widened in horror when she saw the reflection of the man behind her in the huge window wall. He’d dropped the cane and was unzipping his pants. She felt his hands fumbling, felt him pull the cheeks of her ass apart. Kyra writhed, trying desperately to escape, as he shoved one finger into her tight bottom hole.

“So tell me. Am I a better dom than Cabrera was?” Kyra heard Harmon’s voice, raw and harsh. “Oh, I guess you can’t really answer with my dick down your throat, can you?”

Harmon pulled away and turned his back on her, heading across the room. She felt a low rumble, heard frantic voices yelling outside in the hall… and then the whole virtual world exploded before her eyes into a searing ball of flame.

Chapter Fifteen

Harmon dragged himself out from under a collapsed table full of mechanical equipment. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious.

“Kyra?” His voice was ragged, hoarse from the smoke billowing through the room. He could barely see three feet in front of him. “Kyra!”

He heard a whimper and worked his way toward the sound, tossing furniture and machines aside like a madman. “Kyra!”

“I’m here.” Her voice was faint.

His heart sank when he caught sight of her. She was surrounded by glass shards in front of the shattered remains of the mirrored wall. Her body, still strapped to the bench, was trapped beneath a metal beam from the ceiling.

Frantic, he climbed over the debris. The room was ablaze now, electrical equipment sparking, fire breaking out in every corner.

One part of his brain registered that there’d been a massive explosion. A bomb? He wondered how badly the rest of the building had been damaged, hoped no one else had been hurt. Finally he was close enough to touch her. He knelt down and reached out to run his hands over her body, terrified when he heard her moan at the slightest touch. When he unhooked the virtual reality glasses from around her head, she stared up at him, her eyes wide with shock

Thank God for Marcus and his training,
Harmon told himself, as he squatted and got his shoulders under a corner of the beam, heaving it aside enough to ease the bench out from under it. Even a year ago he’d never have been capable of such a feat, no matter how much adrenaline poured through his veins.

She lay unmoving, covered in blood. Gently he unfastened the straps holding her to the bench.

“Where are you hurt?”

“I don’t know. My head aches so much I can’t concentrate on anything else.”

He couldn’t tell how bad her injuries were. Obviously she had a concussion from the force of the blast. And if her spine had been injured by the beam, moving her might be the worst thing he could do. But he couldn’t just stand by and wait for paramedics to arrive. There’d be no help coming any time soon. The door from the lab to the hall in the penthouse was already engulfed in flames. Besides, if they stayed here, they’d both die of smoke inhalation long before they burned to death. He didn’t have to be a genius to realize that fumes from all the melting wires and synthetic components of the machinery in the room were even now damaging their lungs.

Harmon knew he couldn’t hesitate any longer. He steeled himself and pulled shards of glass from her body, knowing all the while that there were probably dozens more too tiny to see. She screamed in pain when he lifted her up. Gathering her in his arms, he battled his way across the room. He kicked open a door and sprinted up the private staircase to his rooftop sanctuary. The air would be clearer up there. And if he got Kyra into the pool, they’d both be safe from the raging fire until help could arrive.

He yanked open the door to the roof and slammed it shut behind them. There wasn’t much that could burn up here—just a few pieces of teak furniture. The floor beneath him was concrete, reinforced all around to counterbalance and hold the weight of the water in the pool. As far as he could see, it had withstood the blast.

Below he could hear sirens screaming, see billowing clouds of smoke pouring from blasted-out windows on the lower floors of the building. He eased Kyra into the pool. She winced when the water touched her body. Tenderly his hands moved over her, washing off the blood. She had a huge gash in one leg and was covered in cuts and scratches from flying glass. As far as he could tell, there were no broken bones. But he was still concerned about a spinal injury.

“Can you wiggle your fingers and toes for me?”

Kyra just looked at him as though she hadn’t heard. Maybe her ears were ringing as much as his were right now. Even his own voice seemed to be coming from far away.

“Kyra, baby, please. Please try and move.”

She kicked her feet and waved one arm through the water, whimpering as she did. Harmon looked down at her battered body and swore. Then he peeled off his t-shirt and drew it over her head. It wasn’t much but it would cover her naked body enough to hide it from view of all the strangers who’d be swarming up here soon.

He used the tattered remnants of the black skirt still clinging to her waist to fasten a bandage, tying it around her injured leg. Cradling her in his arms, he sank down onto the lowest step of the pool. The water felt so good—so cool. Only then did he look down at his blistered skin and realize that he’d suffered burns battling his way through the destruction.
You’ll feel the pain later,
he told himself with the detachment of someone who was merely a bystander,
once the adrenaline rush wears off
.

Kyra stirred in his arms. “What happened?” she whispered.

“Bomb. Probably more than one, all set to go off at once, late in the evening when they figured most of the staff and employees would be gone. Obviously I was their target—along with everything in my lab.”

She stared at him in horror. “Sam, Marcus—your men are still here. Are they all right?”

“I don’t know.” Harmon couldn’t meet her eyes. “This is my fault. Sam warned me months ago, said there had been threats by some whacko fanatics. I should have evacuated the building right then, sent everyone away for a while. And I never should have let you set foot in the lab. No tech creation is worth risking people’s lives.”

“You couldn’t have foreseen this,” Kyra said softly. “No one could.”

Relief poured through him. The longer she was in the pool, the more she was returning to full consciousness. Maybe her concussion was a mild one.