I Spy a Dark Obsession (31 page)

Authors: Jo Davis

Tags: #Intelligence Service, #National Security, #General, #Romance, #Erotic Fiction, #Suspense Fiction, #Suspense, #Erotica, #Fiction

BOOK: I Spy a Dark Obsession

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“I hope I don’t get fired for this,” John said cautiously, tucking himself into his pants.

“No worries, John,” Bastian assured him. “I imagine you’re going to see lots of interesting things around here from now on. I assume you don’t have a problem with that?”

John’s lips quirked. “No, sir. Not in the least. Any time I can make sure your person is safe, let me know.”

“We will. Thank you.”

John was a smart guy and heard the polite dismissal. He nodded and disappeared down the path between two hedgerows.

After he was gone, Bastian took Katrina’s chin in his hand. “I owe you an apology.”

“For what?” she asked in surprise. “I wanted him to watch, too.”

“No, for not using protection. I got caught in the moment and lost all common sense.”

“Oh. Well, me, too. But I’m healthy and I trust that you and Michael are also.”

“Honey, you should never take other people’s health for granted. I’m clean and I’m sure Michael is, too, but it’s something we should have discussed before we did it bare.”

“I know. I agree. I’m just saying I trust both of you. I’ve always used protection before.”

“Okay. We’ll talk to Michael about this later, then. Maybe we can forgo the condoms altogether, unless we’re playing with others.”

“What others?” She frowned. “Because I’m not too keen on the idea of any of us straying on our own, like you did with that kid Cory.”

He grimaced. “I screwed around with him because I didn’t think I had a chance with either of you. Now that we’re all together, I would never play with anyone we didn’t approve of as a threesome. You have to believe me.”

She kissed him sweetly and smiled. “I do. I just needed to hear you say it. Think Michael will feel the same? The man has an insatiable sex drive.”

“I’m positive he will. And knowing his appetites the way we do? We’ll just make sure he stays happy.”

Now if they could only get their lover to slow down before he collapsed from exhaustion. He needed a break.

And Bastian thought he might have the right solution to his sexy lover’s problem.

Thirteen

D
ietz pushed through a sea of bodies and took a seat at the bar, hoping nothing unsavory stuck to his pants. This was the sort of place where the lower-class blue-collar types hung out after a long, sweaty day at wherever the fuck they toiled. They flocked here in grimy droves, drank beer and whiskey, listened to Hank Williams or some other awful shit, and bitched about wives they ought to be grateful were willing to put up with their smelly carcasses.

Doing his best to ignore them, he focused on the bartender. A better-than-average-looking guy named Lenny who slung drinks and made small talk with practiced ease. He worked his followers like a pro, and Dietz waited with false patience until the man finally stopped in front of him.

“What’s your poison tonight?”

“Beer—whatever’s on tap.” What he really wanted was a singlemalt scotch, but he figured he already stood out enough in this crowd. The bartender nodded and went to pull the brew.

Finished, he pushed the beer across the bar. “Three fifty.”

Digging in his wallet, he handed the man a fifty and waved off his change. The man paused, then palmed the money and stuffed the bill into his jeans. “Do I know you?”

“Why don’t you tell me, Lenny?” The man’s eyes narrowed, and Dietz stared back. “Has it been that long, or are you just off your game?”

Lenny huffed an irritated breath and began wiping the bar with a white cloth. “You. I shoulda known.” The bartender eyed the customers around them and decided none were paying attention, then addressed him again. “A certain mutual acquaintance has feelers out all over the city, looking for you.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

“What do you want from me?”

“For you to make certain our friend finds me.”

Lenny slung the little towel over one meaty shoulder and cupped a hand around his ear in blatant pretense. “I’m sorry, it’s a bit loud in here. Want to say it again?”

Mercenary son of a bitch. Then again, Dietz could respect a man’s instinct to look out for number one. He slid another fifty across the polished wooden surface. “Can you hear more clearly now?”

The second bill vanished. “I sure can. Where and when can our friend find you?”

“First of all, I was never here and you never spoke to me. Respond to our friend’s inquiries tomorrow afternoon. You heard from a reliable source that I’m holed up in an abandoned house in Cranville, at the address on one of the bills in your pocket.”

“Easy enough.” The man started to turn away.

“That’s not all.”

Cocking a hip, he leaned against the bar. “Of course not. Hope you’re feelin’ real flush tonight.”

He’d anticipated this, but it didn’t grate on his nerves any less. This time, a Ben Franklin found its way into the man’s pocket. “After you make that call, you’ll get one from me. Could be one hour or four before you hear from me, so be ready. You’ll follow my instructions then. Should my evening reach a satisfactory conclusion? A hundred more of those Franklins will find their way into your savings account.”

Lenny froze, no doubt calculating all he could do with ten thousand dollars. Buy a car that actually ran or pay the rent for a few months, maybe even have some left over to buy something nice for the girlfriend. He nodded, and Dietz resisted the urge to outwardly gloat.

“Very good. Until tomorrow.”

Draining his beer, he disappeared through the crowd the way he’d come. A surge of dark anticipation hummed in his veins. In a little more than twenty-four hours, the loss of all Dietz’s plans and dreams would be avenged.

And Dietz would be on a plane to the Caribbean to liberate his money from the numbered account. A plastic surgeon waited on the other end, his new life bought and paid for.

He’d live with the hand dealt him. But not before doing some dealing of his own.

Lenny stared at Robert Dietz’s retreating back, heart thudding against his ribs.
Holy shit. Ten fucking thousand dollars.
Jesus, the things he could do with the cash.

But the green would be dripping with dark red. He wasn’t stupid. Dietz and Ross were circling each other like a couple of ravenous sharks, and if he went along with Dietz . . .

Ross would die. Simple as that.

But what do I owe him, really?

Plenty. The man had been good to him. Paid him fair and square for good tips.

But not ten thousand. Nothing ever close. And Lenny was hurting for the money, bad. Would Ross double the amount if he brought him in on Dietz’s scheme? Maybe.

But if Ross failed, Lenny was a dead man for pulling a fast one on a rabid animal like Dietz.

Fuck, fuck!
What to do?

In the end, he worked his shift, bided his time. And tried not to think about how he had to betray a good man so that a really nasty motherfucker would walk away free.

Michael found Bastian sitting alone on the sofa in the darkened den off the formal living room, swirling a glass of amber liquid. Moonlight caressed his lover’s hair, gilding it in silvery gold and playing over his fine features.

Does he have any idea how beautiful he is?

A stupid question. Michael knew he didn’t, which made the man all the more desirable. He moved into the room, not bothering to hide his presence. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed with us. Can’t sleep?”

His friend looked up from his glass. “No. Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t.” He sat on the sofa next to the other man. “Bad dreams?”

“Something like that.”

“Tell me.”

Silence stretched out for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “I woke up crying. I never do that, but I felt such despair. Stupid, huh?”

Michael laid a palm on his friend’s pajama-clad thigh. He couldn’t help but note the man had on no shirt, and the drawstring pants were oh, so thin. “Fear is never stupid because it often has roots in reality. The dream was just feelings? Nothing specific?”

“Not really.”

“What does that mean? Tell me what you remember,” he said firmly.

“You were dead, okay?” His voice broke. “You were dead, and I knew Katrina and I were next, and nothing else mattered. I was suffocating and I welcomed death because you were gone and . . .”

Michael took the glass from Bastian’s hand, set it on the coffee table. Then he pulled his friend into his arms and held him tight, lending his warmth to the chilled skin. “I’m not going to die,” he said, and willed it to be true. “I’m not leaving either of you, and we’re all going to be fine. I’m not going to allow Dietz to win the war, Bastian. Know that, and trust me.”

The other man shuddered. “You know I do.”

“Good.” He kissed the side of his friend’s head. “I think I have just the plan to help us both blow off enough steam so that we’ll sleep like babies. It involves some role-playing and it might get intense, though.”

Bastian gave a shaky laugh. “Are you kidding? Count me in.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to do to you.”

“Doesn’t matter. I trust you.” He paused. “Can we go bareback?”

A thrill shot to every cell in Michael’s body. “I’m clean. You?”

“Yes. So is Katrina.” Pulling back, he looked Michael in the eye. “Earlier, she and I didn’t use anything. We should have discussed it together with you first, but we got carried away. I’m sorry.”

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else except you two,” he said seriously. “I’m in this for the duration, so if you want to go natural, I’m in—as long as it’s just that way between the three of us. If we play with others, we glove up. And we don’t play outside our trio without us all being on the same page,” he added with a sudden spurt of jealousy. Bastian’s fling with sweet little Cory still rankled.

“Agreed.”

Happy with this development, he stood and pulled Bastian to his feet. “Come on. I have another room we can use so we don’t wake our sleeping beauty.”

Bastian’s eyes locked with his, filled with longing. Need. Heat spread through his limbs, familiar yet new at the same time. As incredible as the fact seemed to him, he’d never been alone with Bastian this way. Not once, excluding when Bastian had blown him in the limo. And he suddenly couldn’t fathom why.

Michael arched a brow, lips turning up in a sensual smile. “This way.”

Bastian followed him through the den and down a short hallway. At the end, they turned right and walked into a spare bedroom that Michael had obviously prepared before coming to get him.

Eyes wide, he studied the scene. This room was as gorgeous as any other on Michael’s estate, done in dark chocolate tones. A huge king-sized bed provided the centerpiece, a mirror on the ceiling above it. Four massive oak posts were adorned with leather restraints. Secured to the headboard was a new addition to the room: a length of silver chain attached to a leather collar.

Oh, shit!
He jerked his gaze from the bed.

“I’m not a Dom, like Blaze, but sometimes I like a dangerous edge to sex. Like when I fucked Katrina in the alley behind the club, no matter who might be around. This could get rougher. Is that going to be a problem?”

“N-no.” His cock was already making a large tent in his pajama bottoms to prove his eagerness.

“Good. Remember, no matter what happens in this room, it’s just me, and I won’t really hurt you—at least not more than you can handle. Okay?”

“Yes.”
God, yes. Take me!

“Safe word? Because ‘no’ sometimes means ‘yes,’ and we need a word that means ‘stop.’ ”

“Sable.”

“Sable?”

He flushed. “The color of your hair.”