I drag myself off her reluctantly and walk toward the bedroom door. I look back, drinking in the sight of her, her wrists still tied to the headboard, her bottom pushed up by the pillows, her thighs glistening with her recent arousal. Hercurrentarousal, I realize, as a little bead of moisture trickles down her thigh.
She wants more, even though she knows I’ll only leave her frustrated in the end.
And I have every intention of continuing, and making her suffer all night long. It kills me to walk away now, no matter how temporarily, but I know they wouldn’t bother me if it wasn’t important.
Sighing, I close the bedroom door behind me, shifting to try to hide my arousal.
I walk toward the entrance, hoping that whatever it is won’t keep me from her too long. I smile as the vision of her trussed up in that bedroom, just waiting for me, dances before my eyes. I wonder how long I can leave her like that. Probably an hour or two. Time enough for me to deal with whatever bullshit the boys couldn’t handle on their own. And to make returning to her all the more delicious.
I manage to hide my erection under the vest I’ve tossed over my arm. I open the door, and Vale’s standing in front of me.
“What?” I hiss.
“The Feds are here,” he mutters.
For a few seconds, I forget to breathe. The Feds here, on our property? If that’s true, we’re in deep shit.
One look at him, and I know it is.
“What kind of a warrant do they have?” I ask, my voice level, trying not to reveal my panic.
“Nothing yet. They just want to talk.”
I exhale. That’s something. Though I can’t kid myself any longer. Interrogations will lead to search warrants, and that will lead to arrest.
The Feds like to attack when you least expect it. Drag it out, make you feel safe. Then, when you no longer see them as an imminent threat, they’ll pounce on you, force you out of bed, handcuff you, lead you to prison as the paparazzi snap photos and the world pronounces itself on your downfall, before you’ve even been charged with anything.
When the Feds are on your tail, it rarely ends well.
“They want to talk to all of us?” I ask guardedly.
“Not all of us. Not Logan.”
Yes, that tracks. He’s never been involved in the front-facingstuff. We keep him working behind the scenes. He’s racked up a lot of enemies with his shit-eating smirks and his jokes.
It’s a good thing one of us is staying behind to hold the fort, at least.
“Damien,” says Vale.
“Huh?” I blink, startled from my thoughts.
“Now’s not the time to daydream. They made it very clear they expect us to comply, right away. Otherwise, they told me, they’re coming back with an arrest warrant and handcuffs.”
Fuck.
That word brings to my mind another type of handcuffs, a furry variety currently shackled around my girl’s wrists and ankles. And this Feds business is definitely not going to take only an hour or two.
But I don’t have time to go back. Vale is already pressing on my upper back, pushing me down the hallway.
The elevator doors open onto Logan. He looks at us with concern.
“Are we fucked?” he asks.
I make a sign for him to be quiet. With the Feds on us, we’re probably bugged. We’re going to have to be very careful until we can get Vincent on it. He’s a whiz at hacking into those kinds of systems and scrambling the signals.
Thoughts of my girl, handcuffed helplessly to the bed, crowd out the imminent danger. The solution to that situation is not ideal, especially because I have a feeling my pet won’t be thrilled about it, but I don’t have a choice. Still, it takes me a while to accept it. Before I do, I run all the other scenarios in my head.
Lucy? It might be easier for my pet if a woman saw her in that vulnerable position, but I don’t fully trust Lucy. It’s the first time Irealize that.
