Knots (Club Imperial Book 4) (3 page)

“Why don't you just let her live her life?” Chas shook his head. “Because she’s upsetting my parents. She doesn’t go to church anymore. Did you know that? She doesn’t come to dinner on Friday nights, she doesn’t have a boyfriend. She has some odd, long standing engagement.” Chas leaned in conspiratorially. “They’re afraid she’s a lesbian.”

Killian shook his head. “If she is, she is. There’s nothing they can do about that.”

“Well, you and I know that, but the whole thing oogs out my parents,” Chas said. He looked around. “I have get going. I have a date.”

Now Killian was curious. “A date? With who?”

“Saundra Oetler,” he said.

Killian stopped. “You mean Saundra Milhouse.”

“She’s about 3 months from her final divorce papers,” Chas answered. “She’s going back to Oetler because she doesn’t want to be associated with the freak deviant that her ex-husband is.” Chas shook his head. “Did you know he likes to be beaten?”

“I don’t need to know this shit, Chas,” Killian said. “Keep your pillow talk on the pillow.”

Chas laughed. “Exactly. I’ll talk to you later, Kay.”

Killian watched as Chas walked away. He felt sorry for Cece, having to deal with her family. And for himself—having to deal with Diane and the Hens the rest of the night.

###

He watched.

He watched everything and everyone around him. He absorbed the feelings and the vibes of the people. There was a levity and joy in the air, surrounding the two people who were at the center of the fete. The ones who were there for the true joy of it were the stronger than those who were obligated to show affection. It was easy to see who Emmy and Nathaniel gravitated to.

But most of all he watched two men at this gathering. There were more that he kept his eye on, but these two, here and now, were the victims of his relentless watching.

Killian McInnis- doctor, former playboy. Son of Angus McInnis, doctor, philanthropist, and one of the biggest players in the upper echelons of Pittsburgh. He had also been a known figure in the bigger circles- Washington DC, New York, Boston. The family was not unknown and that was what ultimately was their undoing.

The elder Doctor McInnis was found dead. One of the ugliest scenes he’d ever witnessed. A shotgun shoved up his rectum and fired. The buckshot had torn through him and killed his mistress, the lovely Miss Patrice Fulbright as well. A double murder with no witnesses and no solid leads. The two random hairs found were inconclusive. Whomever had done it had never been in the system before.

But he never said they hadn’t killed before. He had cause to believe there was a serial killer; the DC police had reported a murder like this. So had Chicago. All with their mistresses. All within weeks of a divorce.

He watched Killian carefully. The young doctor, only months from his graduation in the top ten percent of his class, was utterly destroyed- first by the death of his father and his mistress and then by the callous action of his mother.

The parts of the wealthy echelons he hated: most men and women married, had children and let the nannies raise them while they went out and had affairs and dalliances with mistresses. Once the youngest was old enough, usually sixteen or eighteen, the couple divorced and went on their way. Lineage preserved, everyone miserable.

Killian and his sister, the very adorable Bridget, made out better than most. Angus had never hid his dislike for their mother. Angus had actually been very much in love with Vanessa; Vanessa, however, returned only as much affection as was required to marry and have children. She turned on him then, trying to turn the children on him as well.

Most people thought that his murderer was indeed the callous and jealous Vanessa, but the two displaced hairs were blonde, and short. Certainly not belonging to the raven-hair beauty.

So the horrible murder of Dr. Angus McInnis sat unsolved. His son was climbing out of its horrible impact slowly, clawing his way up and out of the depression and destruction. The young doctor McInnis was a brilliant surgeon, but had fallen to eighty-sixth out of 89 students in his class. He had lost his confidence and it was only by the literal pummeling by his sister that he had realized what he was doing to his seven years of school, and eighteen months of internship. He was starting to get his confidence back.

And then, Charles Robbe- middle manager at the now-enormous Walsh-Tyndale Corporation, was a quiet, church-going man. Far too old to be unmarried in his social circles, he was an overbearing presence in his younger sisters lives.

The boldly gorgeous Frances -Cece- had a wild, fiery streak in her that led her away from him, led her to rebel. Chas didn't like that at all. Hannah, the sweet pretty younger sister, was a meek and obedient girl who suffered her brother's meddling with restraint. She truly believed that Chas spoke for her parents' interests for her.

What had piqued his interest in one Charles Robbe was his newly formed relationship with the Oetler heiress. Saundra Oetler-Milhouse was an angry soon-to-be divorcee that maligned her husband to anyone who would listen. That had started only a few weeks after the birth of their precious daughter. Apparently the very chivalrous Everett Milburn did not want to go against the doctor's orders when it came to his wife's health, when she did.

She told people that he liked to be beaten and tied up. He liked whips and paddles, anal play and being dominated. The rumors were vicious and ugly.

And utterly true.

Now that she was done with Everett, Chas seemed more than happy to have her in his arms. Though it was a real question how long that was going to last if Charles didn't agree to take her to bed. That was the harpy's problem-- she was insatiable in bed, but didn't want to help her partner keep her happy. Chas didn't know what he was getting into with the vindictive woman.

He would keep an eye on both of these men. He was fascinated by them.

For now, there was nothing more to be seen here. There was work to be done, but that would come later.

He headed down the hall and out to the parking lot where his car was waiting. He drove across the town to the small house that he wanted to desperately to move into. He pulled out the key, and let himself into the living room.

“I was wondering when you would get here,” came a voice from the kitchen.

The object of his desires walked out of the kitchen wearing and apron and nothing else. And the apron barely hid what shouldn't been shown.

“Sorry,” he said, walking over to the delicious cook standing there. “I was just checking some things before I came over. Party was uneventful. Clearly the after party is where I want to be.”

“I'd hope so. Do you like?”

He watched as the mostly naked man turned himself around once. He smiled.

“Hunk, I'll take you anyway I can get you.”

“Is this ever going to be over?” the Hunk asked.

“Yes, yes,” he said, stroking his cheek gently. “Soon. I swear. Everything is going to come to a head soon and I can stop pretending.” He leaned in close and could smell the Hunk's aftershave mingling with his desire. “You know I hate pretending. I hate that I can't come out yet; I want nothing more than to spend my life with you, in your arms, building a family together.”

“I know,” the Hunk answered. “I am here for you, lover. I will wait until this is over.”

“I feel so fake,” the Watcher said.

“Because you are acting,” the Hunk said. “Soon enough. And I know what you are doing is good, and that all of this has a bigger purpose. If you're right...” he let the statement trail off. “You have a big heart, one of the many things I love about you.”

The Watcher smirked and untied the apron. He wrapped his hand around the Hunk's engorged cock and pumped slowly. “And this is one of the things I love about you.”

“The dinner is going to burn if you don't let go.”

“Fuck dinner,” he said. “Better still, fuck you. In the bedroom.”

The Hunk flipped off the burner.

“Good morning, Miss Robbe,” came a familiar voice.

Cece looked up and found Everett standing there, and a quick smile passed across her face. “Well, good morning Mister Milhouse. Is it research day already?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said. “I have a list of books I'm going to need today. Do you have time to assist me? I'd like to get down to business as soon as possible.”

“I think I can do that.” Cece stood . “Vanessa?”

“Yeah, no problem,” the undergrad said, half paying attention.

“Vanessa!” she snapped.

Vanessa finally looked up. “Yes, Miss Robbe, I'm fine. I know this is an Every Tuesday thing. You don't have to remind me.”

“Thank you.” Sshook her head. She walked out from behind the counter and headed out to where Everett Milhouse was standing. She looked him up and down, and very much approved of his outfit for the day. His pinstripes were pressed perfect, and the white shirt was crisp and clean. He had his purple tie on today, so his research list was legit.

He held out the sheet of paper with the names on it. “Thank you, Miss Robbe. As always, I appreciate this.”

“Quite welcome, Mister Milhouse,” she said, looking at the list. “I'll be at your cubicle in about twenty minutes with the first five of these.”

He nodded and peeled off to the right to head to his study cubicle. As a doctoral candidate, he had one of the very rare, very hard to get private cubicles that he could leave things at and lock up. Everett was a brilliant researcher and that he was getting his PhD in medical research was quite impressive.

The books he was looking for would absolutely be found in the stacks. He always checked to make sure that if he legitimately needed them, they were on the shelves and not easily found on the internet or microfiche. She did love her job. Library science fascinated her, and she adored research. She loved working with good researchers. Everett was a good researcher, among other things.

She found the first book and laughed lightly. It was the height of irony that he was researching sexual habits and the pleasure/pain principle in the BDSM community. He was looking for the biological basis of the main drive in the Lifestyle. Cece had read a lot of thesis and his research. He had some of the best theories and information that she had ever seen, in any doctoral research.

Cece headed for his cube. She patted her pocket to make sure that she had the key to her office on her, and stepped out in to the research area. There were always a half dozen student around, and this afternoon was no exception. The masters students had to share, and that was always a disaster. They were always arguing and accusing  and just generally pissing off the doctoral students. Which was what she walked into. Five masters students yelling at each other.

She had tried a dozen different ways to get them to stop arguing and pay attention to her. None of them were nearly as effective as straight violence. Cece grabbed the yardstick she kept in the corner for this reason and whacked it on the desk, cracking it through the air. The five students jumped and turned to see what was going on. Cece was standing and tapping the yard stick on her shoulder.

“This is a library,” she said, strictly. “If you feel the need to argue, you will take it outside this room, and outside this building.”

Four of the students she knew; it was philosophy’s big leaders. The fifth was new to her, but he was standing in front of the Religious studies area. The group of them were rightfully chastised and they nodded. They were still arguing after that, but it was much more quietly. She still wasn't pleased, but they would be quiet for a while now.

She walked over to the doctoral area and put down the books that she had gathered for Everett on his desk. He looked up and smiled at her. She put the key down next to the books and smiled at him. “Purple today, Everett.”

“Yes, mistress. I came across several old studies that we have on hand and they should really provide some more direction for where I want to go.”

She nodded; he was thrilled about the old journals. “Then shall we say one hour?”

“Yes, mistress,” he answered.

Cece went back to her station at the front desk to wait out the hour helping clueless undergrads trying to figure out the Library of Congress system. She much preferred the Dewey decimal herself, but most colleges now ran on the LoC system. It stunk because she couldn't go directly to the fiction section. Now she had to use the computer to find out where it was in the stacks, which meant that if a patron didn’t have an name and author in mind, they couldn’t just peruse. Unless they were willing to put up with things like “Biodiversity Among Slime Mold in Azerbaijan and the Southern Caucuses.”

She wasn’t.

She had a gaggle of clueless freshman walk in and they were terribly confused as to how to look things up on their computers for the class. She gathered them all around her at one of the reference computers and gave them a short lesson on the use of the system and the stacks, and sent them off on their way. She preferred when they came in groups; she had the quick lesson down pat. She logged off the computer and was about to head back to her desk.

“Excuse me, miss, but I’d like some help from a sexy librarian.”

She turned around to give Everett what for and instead, froze.

Doctor Killian McInnis was standing there in a 3-piece suit with a brief case and the scent of sandalwood wafting off him. His brown eyes sparkled with intelligence and humor and his face was freshly shaved, utterly smooth, alabaster perfection dotted with the remnants of childhood freckles. His dark red hair was cut short, and despite the styling, looked as soft and finger-soothing as a kitten’s fur. The suit had to have been tailored because it fit him in the most delicious way, everything falling perfectly, showing his broad shoulders and narrow waist. She wanted to throw him to the ground, unwrap him and have filthy dirty sex right there, damn the rules and onlookers.

“Hi,” she finally answered. She shook herself off. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m actually here to do some research,” he said. “My mentor is trying to figure out a new procedure for a heart defect and he’s sent me to do the old fashioned research on the defect’s medical history. I could use a little help since it’s been a while.”

“Oh,” she said. “Sure.” She gestured to the chair next to her and motioned for him to pull it over.

“Did you have a nice time at the party on Saturday night?”

“What?” she asked, caught off guard. “Oh, Emmy and Nathaniel? Yes, it was a nice party.”

“You knew Emmy before she met Nathaniel?”

Cece was having trouble getting her head back in the game. Killian smelled so good. “I… uh. Yes. We worked together.”

“She is such a nice person.”

“She is,” Cece agreed. “She deserves Nathaniel.”

“Nathaniel deserves her,” Killian answered.

“So, uh… what are you researching?” Cece shook her head “No, wait… what are you doing here? Did you graduate from Dusquene?”

“I did. But UPitt has better and more comprehensive research journals.” He leaned forward and looked at her. “And sexier librarians.”

What? Cece was glad she didn’t let that last ‘what’ out, and instead, she smiled at him and turned back to the computer. “So, what are we looking for?”

Killian swung the briefcase up on the desk, and popped the locks. He pulled out a binder and put it on the desk, laying his hand on it. “Cece, I came here because you do have better facilities and access to older journals. But I also came here because this is unpublished and I trust you with this information. I’m know you’re not going copy and distribute this. This is critical research.”

Cece was actually surprised. “Killian, I’m not in the habit of coping proprietary research. If you need to leave anything here, it gets locked in a filing cabinet, which only I have a key to, in my office. I wouldn’t ever be tempted to photocopy for money either. I,” she said, and pause for a dramatic effect, “am a librarian!”

Killian threw his head back and laughed loudly, instantly realizing he was disturbing the whole building. Cece wanted to take him across her knee and spank him good. She also wanted to trail her tongue up that gorgeous white throat. He brought himself under control and put a hand over his mouth. “I am so sorry. That was rule number one broken.”

“Yes it was. I’ll have to think of a suitable punishment.” She arched her eyebrow. Killian coughed and readjusted himself on the chair.
A girl can dream
. “So, let’s get started on the research. I have somewhere to be in about half an hour, but I’ll be back to check on you.”

“Thank you.” He flipped the file folder open.

It turned out that what Killian was looking for was in the very old section of the library. She was going to have do some serious searching for the journals. Over the years, it had turned into a mess down there and she was going to need at least a day to find some of them. Meanwhile, she pointed Killian in the right direction for some of the other references in the regular stacks.

“You'll be ok? I have something I have to do.”

“I'll be fine,” he said, focused on the screen.

She stood. “I'll be back in a few hours.”

He nodded and she walked away. She felt heady from being so close to him. His cedarwood scent was burned into her mind, and all she wanted to do was fist her hands into his hair. She was going to go straight to her office, but she had stop at the bathroom to cool herself down.

Killian McInnis knew her. Knew her name. Where she worked.

It was almost as though the angels in heaven were singing, and she wanted to skip down the hallway like a kid with a new toy

Her logical brain kicked in with the first touch of the cold, damp paper towel. It didn't matter if Killian knew who she was. Even if they got along perfectly, he was vanilla. He might consider letting her tie him up once a while, but the hard stuff she liked? The whips and floggers and shibari? He would never agree to that. Her subs loved their bruises and she loved giving them; she didn't think that someone as Alpha as he was could deal with her Domme side.

And there was Diane. The perfect wife for the perfect man. She sighed and looked in the mirror.
Just enjoy his company. You might be lucky enough to get a friend out of him.
That would be nice.

Meanwhile. There was Everett. She saw the wicked smile light up her eyes.

She unlocked the door to her office. She glanced at the clock and saw she was still right on time. She loved Mondays for just this reason; the scene started at 2 in the afteroon, and kept going until she was done or he offered the safe word. She also knew this part of the scene was dangerous. Personal interaction—she snorted at the delicate phrase and tried again. Flat out fucking like she and Everett did in the office were grounds for at the least suspension and more likely termination and charges. They were careful, but it was still a danger. The danger played into their scene so well.

There was a knock on the door at exactly two. Cece smiled briefly and called, “Come in!”

Everett let himself in. He locked it behind himself at her nod. “Good afternoon, Mistress.” He crossed his hands behind his back and bowed his head.

“Good afternoon, Everett.” Cece unlocked the desk drawer. “Purple tie today.”

“Yes mistress.”

Perfect submissive. And she knew the body that hid under that suit. Her blood ran a little hotter.

She motioned him to the couch tucked in the corner. He walked over but remained standing. Cece selected several items from the drawer,  and stood in front of him . “Then you’ve cleaned?”

“Always, mistress,. I know the rules.”

Oh, he did know the rules. “Good.” Cece stepped closer to him–close enough to feel his hard-as-steel erection through his pants. “Always so eager. Did you jerk off this morning, after your cleaning, knowing what you were preparing for?”

“Yes, mistress,” he hissed.

Cece caressed his hard length through the fabric. “Drop your pants.”

His hands were quick, and Cece saw that he was commando. She approved, ever so much so; it made everything so much easier and she rather enjoyed the view. Placeing a few drops of the lube she had retrieved from the drawer on her finger, and pulling herself even closer, she snaked her hand around to his backside. She grabbed each firm globe in her hands and pull him apart.

She felt his erection twitch in excited anticipation, and she easily slid her finger into the ring of his anus. He didn’t react; again she approved. He loved anal play and it was something they were working on, geting him to control his reactions. She slid her finger in and out slowly, and it was only as she added the second finger that he reacted, and it was more controlled than ever before. His breath was long and low--and he didn’t move.

“Very good.” Cece withdrew her fingers with the whispered praise. She cleaned off and picked up…
a toy
off the couch, holding it for is inspection. This time, Everett gasped. She had picked the largest of the anal plugs; he was ready for it even if he didn’t think so. “If you're uncomfortable with this idea, speak the safe word now. Because once it’s in place, it’s not coming back out.” She cocked her head at him, daring him to say no. “Objections?”