OnlyatTheCavern

Anna
Alexander

Book 6 in the Heroes
of Saturn series

Ever since police Captain Marco DeWinter discovered Dr.
Jasmine Jovanovich’s secret life as a dominatrix, he has wanted to be on the
receiving end of a set of handcuffs and feel the bite of her stiletto in his
back as she makes him worship at her feet.

Jasmine agrees to be his guide into the darker pleasures and
is delighted when he dives in with the same enthusiasm as he does his police
work. That is until he makes her question her “only at The Cavern” policy, and
wants to blur the lines between her professional and personal life. When
Jasmine is caught in the fallout of one of his cases, Marco must convince her
that not only can she trust him to keep her body safe, but her heart as well.

Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and
scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!

A
Romantica®
contemporary erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Marco DeWinter yanked the watch off his wrist and stuffed it
into his back pocket, then sat on the offending object for good measure. The
damn thing wasn’t doing him any good reminding him that his contact was late.

He reached for his cup of coffee and scanned the immediate
area for the thousandth time. Sure, meeting an informant in the middle of the
night in the darkest recesses of the city park was incredibly clichéd, but when
the guy wore a costume straight out of a science fiction movie, carried a sword
and was overly protective of his privacy, locations were limited. It was either
the park or a dark alley, and that idea was just as groan-worthy.

A few hundred feet from his post, the fountain marking the
entrance to Denny Park babbled. The running water was one of the first signs
spring was on its way and the weather was warm enough to keep the pipes from
freezing.

And as always, in just a few weeks one of the local high
school students was going to have the brilliant but not original idea to dump a
case of industrial-strength bubbles into the water and turn the park into a
scene straight from an old-time sitcom. Then some poor rookie schlub was going
to be saddled with the task of preventing more juvenile stunts with thrice
nightly patrols of the park, not with the intention of preventing real crime,
like drug dealing or prostitution, but because the mayor liked to keep the
fucking park looking pretty. An annual ritual that exemplified the city’s
resources in action.

In all actuality, though he’d never admit it out loud, Marco
enjoyed the giddy sound of splashing water. The city was beautiful in the
spring when the soft-pink burst of cherry blossoms forced through their green
prisons to embrace the light of the sun. Scrubbed clean by the rains of winter,
the city sparkled like a freshly polished diamond. A sense of expectation
hovered in the air, much like how one felt at New Year’s when the clock crept
ever closer to midnight. Old skin was shed and possibilities abounded.

As the scent of flowers from the nearby arboretum and fresh
mulch tickled his nose, he bit back a smile. It had been far too long since he
had stopped to smell the roses. Would he even remember how to if he tried?
Pursuits of relaxation weren’t meant for men like him. Men who lived every day
entrenched in the harsh realities of living and were tasked to clean up the
mess of mankind. Perhaps when he grew old and his bones creaked, he’d take the
time to relearn the texture of a flower’s petals, but for now that was a
forbidden luxury. Another in a long list of items trapped in the illusive
promise that was called tomorrow.

He took a healthy swallow of lukewarm coffee, not because he
was thirsty, but he needed to occupy his mind with something, anything, before
he did something that gave away his impatience, like pace about in aggravation
or start to fantasize about other ways he could be spending his Monday night.
Or with whom.

Don’t go there, man. Don’t go there.

He shook his head and blinked hard against the memory of a
petite, curvy doctor with long dark hair covering her lace-encased breasts that
jiggled as she flicked a riding crop through the air.

Goddammit. He crossed his legs and pressed his thighs
together in an attempt to stem his growing erection. A hard-on was the last
thing he needed.

“Captain. I apologize for my tardiness.”

“It’s about fucking time,” he mumbled and jumped to his
feet. “I was thinking I’d been stood up. I was about to post all over Facebook
what an asshole you are.”

The Chameleon chuckled and stepped out from the shadows.
“Again, I apologize. I would have stopped and gotten you flowers, but that
would have delayed me even further.”

“I hope you brought me something better than flowers.” Marco
tipped his head back to look up at the man he hoped carried the key to what
he’d been searching for over the last three years.

There weren’t a lot of men Marco had to tilt his head up in
order to look him in the eye, but the Chameleon was one of the biggest sons of
bitches he’d ever met. The man was a mountain, standing over six-and-a-half
feet tall with shoulders so wide, he’d have to turn sideways to enter a room.
Their breadth seemed even more impressive when balanced out by a broad chest
and lean waist. His head was covered by a cowl, and a tunic lay over his torso.
It was made out of an unusual material that refracted light and made his body
look as if it disappeared. Funny thing was the costume wasn’t the most unusual
thing about him.

The Chameleon held out a large manila envelope. “I hope this
suffices.”

Marco set his cup down on the bench and tried not to rip the
envelope to bits with his excitement. He reached inside and withdrew a tidy
stack of paper about an inch thick, including eight-by-ten color photos and
charts of dates and locations.

“What exactly am I looking at here, Cam?” he asked, wishing
he had better lighting and a desk to look over everything with a fine-toothed
comb.

“As you know, Smithwick has homes and hideaways located all
over the world. He never stays in one place for very long, but I’ve deduced
that he has four locations in western Washington that are his favorites. One is
in the Cascades, one on the coast and two here in the city. He keeps a small
group of men as his personal security detail. No one is allowed direct contact
with him without going through them first. Using your notations, I’ve pieced
together as many photos with names as I could. In the last two weeks, his
extended security detail has tripled. Either he knows he’s being stalked or
he’s working on a big project.”

“I suspect it’s a combination of both.” Marco flipped
through a few of the photos of a gated house that appeared to be located near
the university district. It made sense since a large portion of Smithwick’s
empire was built on drug sales, and a college student was an easy score. “Is
there any way you could use your super speed and sneak in and place some
cameras and recording equipment on the property?”

“Do you have a warrant for that?”

“Of course not.”

“Then no.” He crossed his arms over his massive chest. “I
told you, Captain. I will not break the law for you.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

A stony silence was his only reply.

“Fuck,” Marco grumbled. “I bet if I had tits you’d say yes.
Or how about long dark hair and light-purple eyes. Huh? Is that the kind of
girl that’d make you agree?”

Cam allowed a small smile. “Not even then.”

“Yeah, right.”

Marco knew exactly the kind of woman who floated the
Chameleon’s boat. The second time he had met the Chameleon, he had immediately
recognized the strong jawline and piercing stare of Lucian Kilsgaard. Lucian
and his wife Amaryllis, who fit the description he had just mentioned to a tee,
owned not only one of the swankiest restaurants in the city, but also the most
notorious nightclub. The Cavern catered to the darkest desires of its patrons,
and Amaryllis controlled the circus with a masterful hand. Marco doubted there
was very little the man wouldn’t do for his wife.

Only because he suspected that both Kilsgaards, and
potentially more of their family members, were all gifted with superhuman
powers, he didn’t press the issue of the man’s real identity. He witnessed
firsthand what happened when someone crossed the family, and he didn’t want to
become a stain on the asphalt.

“If it gives you any comfort,” Cam said, “the technology
Smithwick’s using for protection is state of the art. The motion sensors are so
sensitive, they pick up the slightest movement. Even when I used my super
speed.”

“Was that at all of the locations?”

“Ya.”

“Fuck again. Looks as if I’ll need to figure out an
unconventional way to spy on my friend.”

“Do not fret, Captain. You will succeed.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He secured the envelope
and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. With a small sigh, he
scrubbed his hand down his face as his mental checklist expanded with the
latest information.

“When was the last time you’ve slept?” Cam asked.

“Can’t remember.”

The Chameleon regarded him with a tilt of his head. “What
happens afterward? After Smithwick is captured, what is next for you?”

What’s next? What kind of a question was that?

“I go after the next bad guy.”

“And after that?”

“I do it again. That’s my job.”

Cam sighed. “Is that all that your life is about? Your job?
What about a home? A family?”

“I have a home. One I like very much. And I have a sister
who sometimes thinks she’s my mother. That’s plenty of family.”

“And what of a woman? A mate? Someone to care for you and
for you to care for her?”

“I have a girlfriend.” He picked up his coffee cup and
pointed to the green logo on the side. “She’s even a mermaid. She’s there
whenever I need her and gives me exactly what I need.”

“
Everything
you need, Captain?”

The way he phrased the question sent chills across Marco’s
flesh, much in the same way those similar words had done when Lucian’s wife
spoke them a few weeks prior. Then he had been chasing a vigilante who had led
him to The Cavern. He had needed the man’s name, but Amaryllis disagreed,
saying the name was what he
wanted
. She told him he would be back when
he was ready to get what he needed. Minutes later he had run into a vision
straight from his kinkiest fantasies and hadn’t been able to maintain his focus
since.

“Women don’t fit into a cop’s life, especially this cop’s
life. You of all people should understand that.”

“I do.” Cam nodded. “All too well. For years I was defined
by my position. Nothing mattered except my job and my ability to perform with
the utmost perfection. I do not regret any action I took, but I do regret the
cost of time spent away from focusing on my personal life. The time I spent
away from family, especially since I will never see them again. I cannot get
that back.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Marco murmured.

The origins of the Kilsgaards and their small familial clan
were a deeply guarded secret, and he had spent quite a few hours trying to
solve that mystery. The only thing he was able to deduce was they weren’t human.
Whether they were mutants or, gulp, aliens, he wasn’t certain. But he’d
witnessed at least three of the members move with a speed and strength that
were off the charts. Wherever they were from, it wasn’t local.

Cam nodded. “You are a good man, Captain. We—I, I mean I,
worry that you may be burning yourself out before you’ve had the chance to
really live. You deserve your happiness.”

The slip-up made Marco chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.
Thanks for the intel. I really do appreciate all you’ve done.”

“Let me know if I can be of assistance again.” He raised his
finger. “And remain within the boundaries of the law.”

“Will do, Oprah.” He turned to leave. “Say hello to the
missus for me.”

He looked back over his shoulder with a smirk that slowly
faded as he realized he was all alone.

Damn. Just what in the hell was the Chameleon?

With a shake of his head, Marco left the park. Across the
street from the park’s entrance was the building that housed The Cavern. Pink
and blue lights lit up the exterior walls and the block-long line of people
waiting to get inside to let loose with their inhibitions. His gaze traveled to
the second floor and the rows of false windows. He had a damn good idea what
went on behind those walls, and the thought made his head swim and stomach roll
even as the blood pooled thick in his cock.

Was she up there, right now? Was there a man at her feet,
naked and willing, begging, to do everything she asked of him?

Fuck. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. The
female talk with Cam must have affected him more than he realized. Ever since
he had set foot into that blasted nightclub, he’d been plagued with what-ifs
and maybes. His focus was fractured and now was not the time for distractions.

He was so close to catching Smithwick, he could practically
smell the little bald-headed bastard’s expensive cologne. Three years of his
life were not going to be wasted because he developed a hard-on for a woman who
could probably kick his ass and make him enjoy it.

He withdrew a pack of gum from his jacket pocket and pulled
out a stick. As he strode down the street, he chomped on that gum as if it were
made out of rock and kept his gaze locked on the black SUV parked a block down
the road. He approached the car on the passenger side and opened the door.

His lieutenant, Cassidy Coulter, threw him a smug grin. “The
night’s still young, Captain. And we’re technically off duty. We can go inside
for a drink. Maybe catch a show?”

“Shut up, Coulter.” Marco slammed the door shut.

The lieutenant had all of the looks and charm of a blond
surfer-dude who thought of nothing but the next wave, but the man was sharp and
caught all of the subtle clues that made him an excellent detective. Jesus, how
long had he watched Marco stare up at The Cavern with goo-goo eyes and drool
running down his chin?

As an occasional attendee of the club, Coulter knew
firsthand exactly what went on inside those walls. Hell, he’d probably
participated in the festivities too. Perhaps even with her.

Marco snapped on his gum and pulled the packet of
information out from his jacket pocket. “Head back to the station. We have work
to do.”

“What did he bring you?” Coulter asked as he pulled out into
traffic.

“Names, some photos, but most importantly, locations. He
found four dugouts in Washington, two of them in the city. And all of them have
had their security upgraded to über-high tech levels. Even with his super
speed, he was almost caught on their cameras.”