DALE

WITH JAID’S EAGER body awaiting on the rack, I succumbed to the unthinkable. I knew I was the bastard crossing the line and running away from the relationship with Amber. Fuck that I proposed. Fuck that she said yes. Fuck that she was out there with my best fucking friend. The fine line snapped as I stumbled over it. This was no longer exploration. This was no longer something we did between us.

This was cheating.

But that didn’t fucking stop me.

I drew up the paddle and popped the side of her tit. She didn’t budge or move a muscle on her face. I struck again—this time harder—and she lifted a brow and bit the side of her lip as her eyes danced between my face and my cock. I loved it when curious bitches stared at my pack. They wanted to know if this gargantuan man was hung like a horse. Their internal question asked if the carpet matched the drapes. But even more than that, they yearned to find out if I could wield the tool as well as I wore it.

Her innocent, angelic face begged to be disciplined, punished, and tortured. In short, she was a perfect fit for her job. I didn’t desire to be played; I wanted to unearth her core, break through her outer shell, and demand to savor her true existence. Of course, she couldn’t have pulled any of this ruse off if she wasn’t a submissive to some extent, but how far could I push her before she broke?

Tucking the paddle in my waistband and cracking my knuckles, I growled, “You’ve had scenes with Salvatore?”

“I have. You want the gory details,” Jaid whispered with a wet pout on her lips. “You want to know what his cum felt like dripping down my throat or how close to the edge he brings me? Do you want a comparison report on your desk by Friday, Sir?”

“I want to know how much of this is your famous acting ability and how much of this is truth?”

She laughed, genuine and pure. It warmed my heart like walking through the woods and coming upon a clean, fresh, flowing stream. I wanted that, and so I chased after it with a vengeance. “I am a rogue, dancing in the shadows of your mind,” she barely hushed with a fire in her ocean blue eyes. “I will become whatever you want to believe.”

“Do you even know who you are?”

“I know exactly who I am. The question seems to be—who are you? You are the one who is running from the blatant. Never imagined you would like the salty taste of semen in your mouth. Never thought you could look at another man like a fucking piece of candy.”

My moral compass dictated that I rarely ever struck a woman, but as my palm impacted with her cheek, I only wanted to do it again. Her silky-smooth skin buttered against my hand, conforming and intensifying with each slap. Her cheek would match her ass soon if we kept this up.

I hated her. I hated her because she had been with him. I hated her because she was right. I wanted to choke the bitch as I thrashed against her body, but really would that satisfy me? Would that get me any closer to the obstacle in my way?

No.

Pacing around Jaid, I thought of Amber and Sal on the stage, going at it like the Prom King and Queen. Amber’s blonde hair, creamy skin, and small frame held a stark contrast to the darkness of Sal. I wanted them both. I wanted to be a part of them. But right now, I wanted them to—hurt—like I did.

I wanted to control both the puppets. The one no one ever expected to show. Staring at Jaid’s fine-plump-squatted-ass, I flashed with the thought of the one thing to get under both their skins. And despite how hot that ass looked up on the rack, it wasn’t Jaid, but Iris.

If the two of them thought they could carry on like this, why couldn’t Iris and I have a party of our own? She had put the offer on the table. I just couldn’t RSVP until now. Plopping in the leather chair, I yanked my phone out of my back pocket and sent a quick text to Iris. “Can you meet me tonight?”

Her response followed almost instantly. “Yes.”

I grabbed my gear and kissed Agent Grace farewell. She snarled with a disappointment. I tried to reassure her that it wasn’t her, but I couldn’t do this to Amber.

Lies. Lies. And more lies.

What I was thinking leaving before I had a piece of that ass was beyond me, but something about fucking Sal’s girl stirred my johnson to full throttle by the time I snuck out the back. I hailed a cab and took it home.

With my heart pounding, I ran inside, dodging boxes and piles of wallpaper. I had to hurry as I had no clue when Amber and Sal would return. The adrenaline pumped into my veins as I grabbed a few things into a backpack and headed out to the bike. Staying on the backroads, I made my way out to Jack’s ranch house via my sister Serene’s driveway.

Serene and Jack were gone together, leaving poor Iris all alone and unsupervised. The only problem with any of this was Sal. I didn’t know where he would be staying tonight. Or if he ever came over here to see his doll.

I parked the bike in the trees between the two properties and walked up to the back door. Loosening the latch, I crept inside.

If Iris wanted to play in the dungeon until Sunday, we would because—fuck—I was pissed at Amber and Sal. So angry I couldn’t even process what to say—I saw you manhandling my bitch—didn’t cut it. More like, you fuckwads left me out of your party, so I went to have my own private party in Iris’ panties.

* * *

AMBER

The theatre rules were simple, posted on the wall in a thick black marker and poster. Wait off stage until the current performance completed. Don’t go easy. Don’t go too far. Don’t bring audience members on stage no matter how much they may want to participate. Enter the ring at your own risk. Safeword calls are STRICTLY enforced.

Standing behind the curtain, I relished in the feel of his strong body and focused mind. He and I had never done anything like this together. It seemed a poignant moment not only for his birthday, but for our relationship. I never believed we were anything more than what we were. He needed to practice his Dom skills, and I wanted someone to turn to with the absence of Dale.

I wondered where he went. I imagined he was in the audience watching us proudly. I wanted to impress him and say things with my body that my voice could not. He had trouble finding a balance with his self-expression. He was hot or cold. Lukewarm never existed with D.

It never had.

The couple before us departed with a cheer from the audience and the lights faded out. In complete blackness, Sal passed by me out onto the stage as an instrumental synth hypnotized with the lights slowly returning. He stripped off his shirt and poured a bottle of water over his body. The glow of the spotlights caused his skin to sparkle with a sexy invitation. If this was the game we were playing, I had to up my moves and fast.

I twisted my long platinum locks into a clip, leaving a few stray wisps to tease the angles of my face. Pulling my dress off quick, I waited for my cue and rubbed my hands together with a nervous energy. I anticipated being anxious, but I also remembered years of strip dancing—play to the crowd.

With the memory in my mind, I watched as Sal taunted the audience with the sway of his hips. There was a reason he had such a following at Juliet and beyond, the man could dance. The seduction of his emerald eyes lured like a hunter stalking his prey. He would assault with his body and had the women soaked before he ever said one word.

With a sexy snarl, Sal curled his finger at me and pointed to the chaise lounge. While I didn’t know competition hand signals, I was fluent in our language. Caught between the memory of my past performances and the Master I served, I suppressed my fear and tucked my hands behind my back, locking my fingers together. Just as I started to come out from behind the curtain, I noticed a riding crop setting on a nearby cabinet. Without thinking twice, I placed the crop between my teeth and dropped to my knees.

Crawling out onto the stage, I basked in the shining light. I couldn’t truly see the faces of the crowd, but I could hear the gasps and ooh’s and ahh’s. Sal blinked in disbelief that I was actually crawling out onto the stage as most of the patrons here at The Holding Room didn’t possess the physique of either of us. I took a lot of pride in the fact that my thirty-some year-old body looked a hell of a lot better than most of the submissive in the joint. I could not only crawl that distance, but make it look sexy as fuck.

If he was going to toy with me, I was bound to do the same. Any girl could have walked out and took her spanking and left. But how boring would that have been? If these people wanted a show, we were going to give them one.

I reached the edge of the lounge and Sal’s hand immediately appeared in front of my face. Apparently, I had impressed him with my crawling stunt. I predicted he would take the cane from my teeth, but he didn’t. Instead, he carefully supported my graceful roll up.

Despite being completely naked, I still had my black pumps on so fortunately I was only several inches shorter than him. With a smirk, he gazed intensely at me as he leaned in and kissed my lips with the crop still perched in my mouth. His tongue ran over my lips and my flesh as I easily responded to his touch. I kept my hands behind my back as he parted and walked around me. I gasped at the feel of his cock, grinding against my hands. God, he was hard.

The audience loved it.

My nipples erected, and I closed my eyes uncertain of what kind of bravado the golden boy was pulling out of his magic hat. Here I was, the submissive in the scene, holding a cane between my teeth as the devilish hunk pumped his hard cock hidden beneath the jeans onto my hands. I needed to make a move. But not just any move. A play that would stun and shock and surprise the shit out of the wide-eyed crowd.

Spinning around quick, I faced him and lifted a brow as a smirk rose up on my lips. I dropped the cane into my hands and ran it up his inner thigh as I lowered slow, kissing and biting his chest and abs. With my face directly in front of his protrusion, my eyes flashed up with a shudder. He cocked a brow down at me as I bit my lip and nudged his jeans with my nose. I inhaled deep, taking in the scent of his pre-cum. Damn, he was ready.

Rapidly, I fired up to standing and pushed him to the lounger. Of course, he wanted to go or he wouldn’t have as I was no match for his stocky build. What I didn’t expect was with one foot on the back of the lounger and one on the floor, he would unbutton his pants and his zipper down slow. He never took out his cock, but his hand slid inside, stroking slow.

At the foot of the lounger, I crawled, keeping my knees at perfect right angles until my head was at his crotch. This left my bare ass up in the air, but I was so distracted by Sal and his beast, I didn’t care until the blindfold came over my eyes.

Fuck.

The leather flogger graced against my skin, achingly slow and teasing. Sal was still beneath me, so I had no idea who was on the other end of the flogger. Hell, the whole thing felt amazing—Sal’s hard guns under my hands, the rough denim, and his smooth, warm cock against my face, not to mention the velvet sashays of the flogger to my ass. Getting incredibly turned on by his game, I bucked my hips backwards in an offering, begging and pleading for someone to touch me, to fuck me.

I wanted to ask Sal who it was, but I had to trust him—in front of hundreds of on looking strangers. What the fuck had he done?

I started to panic, and he must have known because with his hand in my hair, he pushed my head to his crotch. Carefully, I took his cock into my mouth, sucking it down slow and pacifying my panic. The flogger rippled against my derriere again and again, each time harder than the last. With my anxiety upsurging, I tried to lift again, but was met with the firm press of Sal’s commanding hand.

When I least expected it, a hand came flying against my ass cheek. Sharp and stinging, the subsequent welt caused the tears to drip from the corners of my eyes as I attempted to relax enough to deep throat Raniero.

We had never had a scene with anyone other than Dale, yet I knew by the draw there was no way that was my D. He liked to impact hard, quick, and fast and painful—he didn’t tease or play around. Whoever was bringing up the rear of this little exhibitionistic journey into my submission liked to toy. They probably gave a hell of a mind fuck, too.

I wanted to rebound with something more—a quiet offering of my complacence. My pussy demanded to be touched as again I arched back in a feeble attempt to sway their decision. If being between his dick and the invisible Dom behind me wasn’t enough, Sal decided that now would be a good time to snap some clips to my nips. He let me break away from his shaft long enough to lift up and give a deep sigh, but his hand quickly returned with a heavy declaration of pressure to the back of my head.

Rarely did Sal ever engage in verbal degradation. But when he demanded, “Suck my cock, bitch,” I surged, releasing a meager orgasm which left my soul starving for more.

Taking the clip out, Sal gripped his fingers in my hair, sending a vibration through to my core. I desperately wanted to know who Sal brought into out scene, but with the blindfold tight, any hope of sneaking a peek was useless. The flogger tormented my eager backside with such caring, deliberate precise strokes, whoever it was held a good measure of experience under their belt.

Suddenly, the lashes stopped and the crowd roared even louder. I had no idea what was happening, but a light graze of fingers brushed against my cheeks as I continued giving the most intense blow job of my life. A hard yank to my locks brought me up as smooth fingers—not Sal’s—ran over my lips.

“You like it, don’t you?” he whispered with a seductive voice. His lips were on mine in an instant. Deliciously intriguing and mind blowing, the kiss sent my senses whirling. Another pair of hands, softer and more delicate, directed my head the other way. I was met with another swoon worthy kiss by a woman. Her sensuous lips took mine through a sweet abandon, sweeping my mind and body away from the stage to a place where there was only she and I and the Dom and my Master.

In the message of the kiss, I pleaded desperately for more time with these three…us, four. Left with the complicated quad puzzle, I closed every other emotion down and drowned within them. I yearned to be theirs for just one night—take me, break me, use me—make me whole again. And in my sole devotion, I thought nothing about the one who could make it all disappear with a snap of his fingers and a pop of his hand. In the sea of temptation, I let go—only to resurface and realize the only one suffocating was D.

What the fuck was Sal doing to me?

* * *

DALE

I didn’t know what to expect as I entered the vast house. It hadn’t really occurred to me that she could be anywhere. I was a damn black ops agent, a former frog. I had worked all over the globe with people gunning at my head, and yet, this one girl caused such a violent churn of my emotions. I wasn’t sure what to do with all the anxiety.

I continued looking, searching—hunting—for Iris. She wouldn’t have just left. After all, she was under contract with Jack. The details of the agreement, I didn’t know, but he had to have offered her a fat stack of cash to warrant a six-month total power exchange. If he was like the other guys, I imagined their TPE was an encompassing. He ordered and she obeyed, no questions asked.

Chubs wouldn’t stop twitching. With every corner turn and door cracking open, my dick flinched with an anticipation. I was going to fuck that girl—Sal’s girl—to the god damned moon and back. I was going to leave her stretched, bruised, and begging for more. Sal might want to kill me afterwards, but at least I would have his attention. I was behaving like a fucking toddler and I knew it. I didn’t give a shit.

I knew what he did to my girl. He gave her one of her fantasies and carelessly, intentionally excluded me to see what I would do. Maybe he thought that in the midst of two Dom’s taking on my girl that I would be the lucky third. Maybe he hoped I would watch in the audience. Maybe he didn’t want me there or with Amber at all.

I adjusted myself as I headed back down the long hallway to the main room. She mentioned a dungeon beneath the house, but for the life of me I couldn’t find the entrance. I walked outside and took a deep breath. Maybe she headed over to Serene’s dungeon, but why the fuck would a sub be given a key?

I only had to think about Sal to know the answer for that. He had been my sissy’s bitch boy for years, and he had so many damn keys he could have been a janitor. The thought sent my mind racing to what that meant—clean up crew, assassin, hitman—certainly not my partner. We ran jobs and fought for the helpless, when someone got in the way they met their maker. But a hired gun—what if Serene—no, I blocked out the thoughts fast because the ramifications of what that meant could be vast. We were bad; Sal wasn’t that bad. Was he?

Serene’s posh dungeon in the woods was locked down tight. I glared up to her sprawling Victorian estate. The entire house loomed eerily dark except for the landscape lights.

Why the fuck would Iris be there?

Unless she was waiting on Sal…

Sprinting up the hill, I tossed my husky frame over the fence and landed near the back door. I tried the knob and it opened—bingo! I had some idea where Iris would be—his room—if she was here.

Passing my sister’s locked suite, I strode to the last room at the end of the hall, expecting to find Iris, writhing in his bed, wet and wanting. The old house complained as the door creaked open. I jumped back fast as a jack-in-the-box sprang up and startled the piss out of me. I grabbed the heinous toy and noticed the engraving, “To my Precious, from Jack.”

Sal kept a strange assortment of childhood remnants. Next to the evil jack, a pink jewelry box. Upon opening it, the ballerina twirled around as I wrapped my fingers around the beautiful diamond chain. “You’d have to be a fucking doll to wear this,” I grumbled and noticed the perfect silver hoops that connected other strands of diamonds—“It’s a fucking cock chain… Jesus fuck…”

Scouting out his room, I lied to myself. I wasn’t spying only inquiring to find the whereabouts of Iris. Of course, I wanted to catch her and fuck her senseless, but until I located her I was merely snooping about in my partner’s room. Noticing the scope, I put the diamonds back in the box and peered through the lens. The entire master suite of Jack’s estate came into view.

“What the fuck are you thinking, Kid?”

A light flashed on, and I moved the scope ever so slightly. His room had the ideal view of the bed and bath. Watching Iris submerge into the water, I breathed heavy as my johnson took a stand. There was no calming his claim down this time. The smell of my partner filled my senses as I lingered longer than necessary in the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I briefly wondered if she knew Sal had these voyeuristic tendencies.

Between glances of Iris, I checked out his dresser drawers. The guy was a neat freak. His underwear stacked in linear rows by color and type, his socks folded. He was methodical. In the bottom drawer, I found a small duffel packed with cans of soup, protein bars, ropes, and extra socks. Knives. Guns. Extra Ammo. His stake-out pack. We all had one. You never knew when the call would come. Get here—Now.

Mine did not contain soup.

I closed the drawer and peeped at the girl again. I wondered where she disappeared to. I searched the house over thoroughly. Did she know I was there?

I wished I never would have done what I did next, but I picked up his pillow and buried my face in it. My dick painfully throbbed. Tossing it back on the bed, I tilted my head at a curious sight—a white handkerchief hanging out of his nightstand. I pulled the drawer open to find it balled up. I sniffed it—Raniero’s spunk—and pocketed it inside my jacket.

Perhaps what waited in the drawer held my second biggest mistake—the little black book—I had heard rumors as he ribbed me about his “LBB.” I figured he was just making shit up, but as it turned out, Sal told the truth. It did exist, and his entire client history was written in the book with code names.

Quickly, I flipped to R for Amber Rosen and found nothing. I looked in A, nothing. Holding the book tightly in my fingers, I stared out the window, hoping for a solution. It came to me in the form of E—Mae East. Code name: Lady Mae. Beside her name, in various colors and types of pens, the date of every single encounter. My hands started to shake as I was stunned by the countless rendezvous, and I dropped the book.

Suddenly, a gentle voice persuaded, “Heya, big stud, I didn’t think you would come.”

* * *

AMBER

Within minutes, Sal tossed his shirt over my naked body and hoisted me up onto his shoulder. I thought nothing of it, still blindfolded from the scene, but the crowd intensified with a wild, determined cry. Like our session had proven too much for them, we had crossed the line for which there was no return.

He ran down several hallways, twisting and turning, opening doors and moments later they would slam behind me. “Drive…” he said with a don’t-fuck-with-me-tone as I heard the jingle of keys fly through the air.

It wasn’t until he tossed me into the backseat of the Raptor that I heard the gunshots. “Go, go, go!” Sal yelled.

“I’m going!” the girl in the front squealed.

“You leave the blindfold on. We aren’t done yet.”

“We were getting shot at… Is this really the time to be thinking about having another scene?”

“There is always time. This just isn’t the place,” Sal informed, squeezing my hand. “Did you get any good pics?”

“Yeah, we got several, hon,” the flogging man said. He sounded light, a little sweet, maybe even gay. “I am sending them to your phone now. Shall I send them off to D.C.?”

“Ya, tell him the mouse brought the cat out to play, going to La Chiesa now.”

Trembling uncontrollably, I asked, “Sal, where is Dale?”

“He’s safe. Trust me. I am not certain where he is, but I have a good idea. And if I’m right, he’s in a fucking fortress. They weren’t trying to kill us. That was just giving us a warning. We have something they want.”

With everything I had been through—the ultimate high down to the scraping low—I asked way too harshly, “What?”

Lighting a cigarette, Sal exhaled and put it to my lips as he muttered, “You.”

And that was all I needed to remain quiet the rest of the drive. I didn’t ask questions or try and form any answers as to who or how or why, I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere.

In less than an hour, we stopped. I heard the beeping of a keypad as a gate creaked open. We drove for another minute and stopped. The woman requested, “Give me the keys, I’ll go open the door.”

Sal scooped me up in his arms like a bride and carried me inside. Standing there, the rough wooden floor chilled my toes—I left my shoes in the truck. The faint smell of incense waft into the air as the sound of Nine Inch Nails filled the room. And that could only mean one thing—Sal was up to something.

I bit my lip and realized how I was standing like a meek, frightened young woman. I knew better, so I straightened my back, arched out my curves, and tucked my hands behind my back. I gulped down the fear—partly from being blindfolded, mostly from Sal’s signals. Whatever was going down was serious, and somehow I was about to be involved whether I wanted it or not because someone wanted me.

I wracked my mind, trying to think and ponder and probe every possible person it could be. I had stalkers in the past, but none ever went so far as to cause real concern. Gun shots had been fired though, and if that wasn’t reason enough to be concerned, I didn’t know what would be. I was amazed by my behavior though. I listened to Sal and managed to leave the blindfold on.

Somewhere inside, I wondered if I would have trusted Dale that much… The relationship with Sal went deep—five years deep—with blood stains and cum splatter and unimaginable loss and pain. We worked it out in our midnight dance. It didn’t matter if anyone else understood how him beating my ass made the nights after losing Kaci go away, but it did—it worked, I saved him. I owned that.

Me and seven others—nine of us in all. The curious thing was I didn’t actually know anyone else in our saving Sal club. I heard mutterings of names, I think even D was included, but we didn’t talk about it.

Because we didn’t talk.

We fucked—Hard.

After standing in formal protocol for a good bit, an arm brushed against my own. I almost reached for it before stopping myself. The blindfold fell to the ground, and I was met with three pairs of assessing eyes.

“Agent Pris Grace,” the woman said sternly, holding her hand out to me. I hesitantly reached out as she handled mine like a man. “You can call me Jaid, I work undercover at Juliet as student Jaid Chambers,” she informed with an authoritative tone until she broke her facade and smirked. “And Sal was right, you are a hell of a good kisser.”

“Jonathan Finkle, everyone calls me Fink,” the flogging man said. His blue eyes were captivating, almost blue violet. “I work for Delarte Cristos, his right hand, sometimes his left,” he said with a wide, bright smile. Fink held an extraordinary beauty to him, a soft tenderness trapped in one sexy model-physique.

“Sal Raniero, I specialize in saving damsels in distress,” he teased with a devilish grin and a wink.

“Who was shooting at me?” I tried to not whine, but I had been through enough gunfire for one lifetime, having lost my house at someone’s target practice.

“Are you aware who your father is?” Sal chided. “There is no getting away from it. He’s got the South quadrant locked tight and everyone else is his bitch, but because of that he made a whole lot of enemies. Now, you are his daughter, taking his seat and his enemies are now yours. Consider it a house warming present.”

“Getting shot at a fetish club… Housewarming? Not in my house.”

“That’s my girl!” Jaid cheered and pumped her arm at me. “You need to put your foot down.”

“I do…”

“Yeah,” she eased, touching my shoulder. “And we’re going to help you do that.”

“You three are my muscle?”

Sal gave me a side-glance like I should have known better than to even question his motives. I understood who he was and what he could do, but the fact remained that this misfit bunch looked more prepared to go get high on the beach than defend anyone. As I saw it, I had Sal, a darling girl who looked about fourteen, and a gay boy. This did not look like the bunch to take down whatever enemies my father had crossed.

Slipping off her leather jacket and tossing it on the back of the sofa, I couldn’t help but notice the cut bicep muscles on her arms. She caught me staring and tilted her head at me. “Curious?”

“Always.”

Pulling off her spike-heeled boots, Jaid undid her pants and dropped them. Four shining blades were strapped around her thighs and a gun laid against the small of her back. “If you think I can’t kill any motherfucker that gets in our way, you’re wrong.”

I eyed the beautiful blue-eyed boy propped against the sofa. He blinked back at me. “Fine, I’ll take it off.”

Doffing his fashion plate sport coat and designer threads, he revealed no weapons, but I failed to notice that his arms were inked from his fingers up. “I win friends and influence people. It’s my job. I make deals.”

“You know what I can do…” Sal said, cracking his neck. “Or you have an idea.”

“So, what is your grand plan?” I smarted off.

“We need to send a return acknowledgement.”

“Like a body part in a box?” I mocked.

“No. Like taking the head hauncho’s bitch for a couple days,” Fink replied with an ease like he had just placed an order for champagne and caviar.

Blowing up, I yelled, “Absolutely not!”

“Too late!” Fink smirked as he lounged out on the plush furniture. “We’ve already started the interception, and she is being handled.”

“Handled?” I busted out. “Handled? Like a package? You cannot do that!”

“It’s already done. Don’t worry about it. This is normal,” Jaid reassured as she lit a cigarette. “She won’t be hurt and neither will you, but we can’t do nothing. We have to let them know we got their present or else they will continue, and it will only get worse. And believe me,” she said, walking to the bar and pouring a drink. “That is the last thing you want.”

“You trust me,” Sal whispered, gripping my hand. “You are going to have to trust them.”

“What about D?”

“He’s fine. He needs to stay exactly where he is and when we let you go, you need to act like none of this ever happened,” Jaid coached, sipping on her whiskey. “We had a nice night and nothing more.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. You are asking me to lie to my fiancé!” I was livid, spewing anger out everywhere. “And you, Nero, what the fuck!” I pushed back on his shoulders. “What the fuck are you doing betraying your partner like this?”

Sal glanced up, giving me a seductive gaze. “I am not betraying anyone. I am telling you the rules of their game. You can play by their laws or they will take you out. They’ve been looking for a crack on the Rampage board for a long time.”

“They can fucking have it!” I screamed hysterically. “I don’t fucking want it! Any more than I want Pock to be my father!”

Jaid approached slow and cautious like I was a rabid, wild animal. “You understand that when they take you down they are going to take down anyone and everyone associated with you. I suggest you think about that for a minute and decide if it is worth it. They’ll start with Evie and work their way out. Dale’s mom and sisters and whole team—Rachel and Aimee—they are as good as gone.”

I tried to comprehend the shower of bullets, raining into my life right now. All I wanted to do was run and hide and pretend I didn’t exist. I had done it once before with Mae East—why couldn’t I do it again?

“They’ve already been trying to get Evie to date one of their junior members, it wouldn’t take much to get her. A couple lines, a few grams, and she is theirs. After her, they’ll go after Dale. And these guys don’t play nice in the sandbox. After killing the baby, they will torture you both as you watch each other die a heinous, horrible death. And then, they may go after Raniero…but luckily, he has a name attached to him that brings about fear and dread with his army behind it. So, maybe, just maybe it will stop there.”

“Are you finished?” I wept, covering my face.

Casually, she replied, “Are you?”

Sobbing with the onslaught of issues, I wasn’t prepared to deal with any of it. “No one even knows where my dad is…so, I don’t understand why any of this matters…”

“Well, here’s the thing about that, Amber,” Fink said ever so gently, patting the sofa beside him. “Maybe you should come sit down first.”

* * *

DALE

I wished I had known how naughty the little angel would be. If someone told me what was about to happen, I never would have agreed to even show up. If I would have known that Iris was the perfect counterbalance for Raniero’s insanity, I wouldn’t have touched her with someone else’s dick, much less my own. But alas, we fell like dominoes.

Without Iris ever noticing, I discreetly kicked Sal’s little black book under the bed. Stroking my beard, I smirked from beneath my stache as my eyes flickered with excitement. The target I had been searching for had suddenly appeared—completely naked—in of all places, Sal’s bedroom.

Oh, the irony!

Ripping my jacket off, I snarled at the short, voluptuous girl with an incredible amount of hair. She rather resembled an actual fairy with lush hips and breasts and more mane than anything else. Enthralled by her presence, she reached out and ran her fingertips over my chiseled guns as she slipped her hands down around my waistband and lifted off my tank top.

“I am going to fuck that big cock of yours now,” she assertively declared.

My body responded to her pleas as she delicately pushed me onto the bed. I fell willingly just wanting to see what the bitch had up her sleeve. I imagined what the dance between her and Sal must look like—because although she had big blue doe eyes, she was no innocent fawn.

“You work with Sal?” she asked, unbuckling my belt and breathing her warm, moist breath on my happy trail. “Tell me about him.”

“How did you know I worked with Sal…”

She smiled pretty. “I know many things, Mr. Archer. All you have to do is open your eyes and ears and keep your mouth shut, you’ll learn way too much.”

I hesitated, fearing how much she knew. Did she know he was black ops? Did she know about Kaci? Did she know about our misguided trinity? What exactly did this precious dumpling know?

I wanted to find out, but I knew I had to go about it in a way so as to not interrogate her. If I crossed the line and put her on examination, I would have been willing to bet she clammed everything up tight—including her curvaceous little thighs. “Sal’s a good man.”

“That’s not what I asked,” she replied, undoing my zipper and freeing my solid. With no inclination to go flaccid soon, I was stuck between her query and her fingers wrapped tight around chubs. It was utterly, devastatingly terrible—in such a good way.

“Yes, I work with Sal. He’s a good guy. A great Dom,” I informed, building his already massive ego up to a whole new height exactly like Iris had done to my johnson.

Licking the tip, she teased her tongue around the head and blinked at me. “Do you trust him?”

Fuck. What a terrible time to ask me that…

“Absolutely!” I showed no fear or worry despite the fact that I had no clue what he was up to or even where he was. Hopefully, Amber was still with him.

Her mouth dropped over my dick as she sucked up slow, running her teeth up the shaft ever so lightly. It was decadent. Her blue eyes flashed open and drool dripped from her lip as she whispered, “I liked watching him…fuck…your girl.”

Before I could comprehend the amazing ploy of her words, I closed my eyes and rubbed my face as she twirled her tongue around the trunk. Her mouth was lethal. Almost reason enough to keep her on a very short leash. “I enjoy watching him fuck, too.”

Oh shit.

“I know you do,” she revealed, holding the base of my johnson and stroking my balls with her fingers. I hated to think of what Iris actually knew, but my fears subsided as she said, “Everyone does. He has a charismatic charm that draws you in and doesn’t let go. It doesn’t even have to do with his eye candy…though that doesn’t hurt.”

Lifting up, she straddled over my body and dipped her pussy onto my dick. She rocked slow and easy, allowing her body to accept the full length of me. In taking the time, she stretched to accommodate and for whatever reason that touched me. Not even Amber did that, I wondered how she knew.

Was Jack actually training her? I assumed the whole thing was a farce, an excuse to get her off the dangerous playing field. I had to wonder if Sal knew what Jack was doing…of course, he did or found out—maybe that caused the rift between them.

The scope parked at her window proved many things. First, Sal was one sick fuck. Second, she was truly important to him if he was staking her out. And three, the boy done went and fell in love.

I knew she wasn’t telling me everything. She kept her secrets locked up which was fine as long as she didn’t stop swallowing chubs with her hot, wet cunt. If Jack found out, I would be a dead man. If Sal found out, I would be tortured until my soul submitted. If Amber discovered what I was about to do to this young lady, she would never speak to me again and that would hurt much worse than the other two. But with the thoughts of her and Sal spinning on repeat in my mind, I no longer gave a shit. I was going to fuck this bitch and goddamned enjoy it.

Sitting up, I held her to my body. I couldn’t handle not taking her the way I wanted, especially since I knew what she had in her panties—a willing ability to surrender her body. I only hoped her mind would follow.

Her short stature only served to help me in my plight as I could easily manipulate and put her wherever I wanted. I got her on all fours and rammed my achingly hard dick inside of those warm folds. She didn’t whimper or panic or flee. In fact, she fucking rocked with me, accepting each thrust with a push back of her own and sending shockwave after shockwave through my body. If she screwed like this all the time, it was easy to understand why Sal craved her—she fucked like she owned it.

Chasing her own orgasm, Iris never stopped tightening around me, and the pressure was amazing. I groped her breasts and fussed with her nipple rings, pulling and tugging. I wanted to take her back hole, but I knew that really did cross a line. The idea of having an irrecoverable moment with Raniero plagued my mind. I couldn’t imagine actually losing him. Sure, we’d rib one another and play around, but his actual abandonment from my life arced like a loose wire. Too much to handle, the thought zapped me sane.

I wanted to hurt her, but I couldn’t do it as my thoughts turned to how sexy he looked up on the stage with my girl. What I wouldn’t have given to have been in her position in the privacy of a bedroom. Jaid was right. I yearned to kneel before him, but I also knew the long wait time and number one in the line was pumping her pussy hard onto me. I came uneventfully and wished for the momentum we had been enraptured with earlier.

Pulling my dick out, I heard her gasp as I walked away. I went to the window, my eyes glazing over the outside landscaping. I noticed a basement window, low at the foundation of the house that I didn’t recall seeing it before. “Does Jack’s house have a dungeon in the basement?”

“Yeah,” she said, sprawling out on the bed. Her porcelain skin against the midnight blue sheets was stunningly beautiful. I grabbed my phone, snapped a picture, and hit send.

She said nothing.

When my phone flashed with a text, I didn’t respond. He called me several not nice names. Iris smirked, almost laughing at the game. Repeatedly ringing, I finally picked it up.

“Yes?” I snarled, expecting a slew of verbiage.

Sal quizzed calmly, “Did you take her downstairs, Hoss?”

“No, why?”

“Don’t,” he warned.

Something about the way he said it sent a chill through me. It wasn’t just a warning, but an ominous signal to retreat, to get the fuck out of there. Staring out the window, I asked, “Why?”

“Trust me, man,” Sal pleaded, “You just really don’t want to do that.”

“Afraid she’ll like my dick more than yours?” I chuckled, turning around to find Iris missing. “Where the fuck did she go?”

Sal cackled. “She’s slippery that one… And no, asshole. Afraid you’ll fucking kill me.”

“Why?” I grumbled as things turned decidedly serious. “What did you do?”

With a deep sigh, he only replied, “Meet me at your house in two hours.”

A thousand questions came barreling at me in that moment like why were we meeting alone in the middle of the night and why was it going to take him so damn long?

Angrily, I paced about the room. “What? Why? Where the fuck are you?”

“The Church.”

“What the fuck are you doing in that tomb?” I shouted as my hand curled into a fist. “Do you fucking have Amber with you?”

The phone went dead.

And suddenly, my johnson did, too.

I fastened up my jeans and looked under the bed. I grabbed his book and saw a small wooden box. None of this had fared well. I had no business being in here and nosing about, but that hadn’t stopped me. I flipped the latch and found a document I wish I never would have seen—Amber’s Birth Certificate.

“Why the fuck do you have this?” I grumbled, snapping a picture of it. I hated that Sal was working cases I didn’t know about. I couldn’t keep him safe because he clearly wasn’t sane or sharing.

Closing the box, I returned it under the bed and snapped a picture of Mae East in his LBB. I wanted him to explain how all these dates were keeping her trained for me. I needed to know Sal hadn’t just played me for a fool the last five years.

* * *

AMBER

As I sat listening to Sal, Jaid, and Fink, the sense of disbelief brought me to a place of utter isolation. If everything they told me was correct, the pieces of the puzzle actually did fit together. I hated the idea of running a gang—a biker gang at that. I didn’t want to do it, but I also understood who all stood in the line of fire. Not only was everyone I knew at risk, but years of work would dissolve if I didn’t play along.

“What do you mean you have my father?”

“I mean he’s in Jack’s basement dungeon,” Sal explained slow like I was incapable of possibly understanding the dynamic of jurisdiction and what it all meant. “The rats from the North are coming to infiltrate his region. You have to go a make a stand. You have to hold it—without you—it will fall. It’s a weakened link in a very fucked up system. We cannot have Chicago pushing in on us…not yet. Dom has been working to avoid this conflict for years.”

Feeling overwhelmed, I held nothing back, asking question after question. “How does Delarte Cristos play into it?”

“Cristos has everything from the river eastwards…” Fink volunteered with a smirk of his lips, “Including Miami and the islands.”

“The islands?”

“US territories, everywhere else has South American cartels running them,” Jaid offered.

The magnitude of their work hit home as I rebuked, “And New Orleans? Who has it?”

Grabbing the bottle of whiskey off the table, Sal took a mammoth gulp and lit a smoke. “Dom runs it.”

“But who finances it, Sal? It’s a fucking port…so just fucking say it.”

“You know who is paying for it,” he exhaled in a line of smoke rings. “Don’t make me say it…”

Shaking my head, I tried to hold back the tears. “What you can’t say—a guy by the name of Cyclone Blonde?”

“Yeah, but you can’t think about it like that,” Jaid consoled, gripping my hand.

“Like what?” I bellowed, wallowing in my own decimation. “Like he’s financing a fucking drug ring, prostitutes, heaven knows what else? Newsflash Nero, that’s the guy I am supposed to be fucking marrying!”

“I know, and you will,” Sal reassured.

“Not if he’s the reason behind so many losses…” I couldn’t bring myself to list the names of the people we knew who were affected by the contamination that Dale’s money brought.

“He’s purely intel, honey,” Fink added matter-of-factly, crossing his legs. “You can’t think of him as being the bad guy. He’s playing the bad guy to keep Dom on the inside. It’s all a charade and has been for years.”

“Without his personal bank running the seedy Nola underworld, we would have no control. We already lost Chicago when Daddy Gennaro died, which means we lost Nebraska. With your father missing, we stand to lose another huge section,” Jaid spoke slow, decisively.

“You act like there is a whole other world underneath the real one.”

In unison, both Fink and Jaid replied, “There is.”

Sal remained quiet, assessing the situation and the unfurling of my life. I could tell he wasn’t happy. Hell, he probably held all the guilt on his shoulders alone. I needed away from all of it. Running through the church in tears, I made my way to the kitchen and half-way up the staircase before I broke down. I was losing it—fast. Not only was my father some drug kingpin, but the man I loved more than life itself was funding one as well.

Under the stained glass, I cried a lamenting wail of hysteria. Everything I knew before tonight had died. It was gone. I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t pretend to not know the truth. Daddy was a drug dealer and my lover was a lie, and those two things stung like a million tiny glass shards, scraping across my insides.

Approaching slow, Sal meandered up the steps and sat down beside me. I felt the need to console him like he was an innocent bystander stuck in the crossfire. The truth proved otherwise. He chose the life of a sleeper, spying and slaying. And somewhere, I knew that, too.

Laying my hand on his thigh, I whispered, “I’m sorry, I just can’t.” Darting the rest of the way up the stairs to a bedroom, I worked my way past boxes to a wide window ledge seat. I should have known he would follow me.

His solemn words came from a distant and lonely place. “I wished you would have picked another room—this one was Bertrand’s.”

Stunned by his admission of pain, I cringed with the horrific thought. “I am so sorry. I didn’t even realize.”

He squeezed my fingers. “Baby, I know and it’s ok. Everything will be fine. Even you coming in this room is recoverable.”

As he let me in, a compelling need washed over me to do the same. “I am sorry you are in the middle of all of this.”

Sitting down, he wrapped his arm around my bent-up knees. “I chose this. I didn’t want to be like my father. I put myself in this position, not you. Don’t blame yourself for this. Pock is a complicated, dangerous man and I hate the idea of even asking you to do this—really hate it—but I don’t have another choice. If I send anyone else in, Rampage members won’t trust them.”

Holding his hand, I muttered beneath sniffles and snot, “Are they going to trust me?”

“They should; these clubs are all about blood. You are the best we got. I really hate to do it,” he said again. I could see him fighting his choice to send me in. He wasn’t happy. “Look, I didn’t intend for you to find out about D this way. He was going to tell you at some point…”

“But he didn’t…” I cried.

“No, I know he didn’t,” Sal spat back, all at once defending D and then me. “But he should have.”

Amidst all the flurry of emotion, I laughed. “We haven’t really had time between a funeral and his mom and moving and Mae and Pock and…”

“I hear ya,” Sal mentioned, acting like there was something more he wanted to divulge. “I understand being the rubber band that holds everything together. You put yourself and your own needs on the back burner and your relationships suffer for it.”

Laying my other hand on top of his, I guessed, “Iris…”

“Iris…” he confirmed with a nod.

Tilting my head, I asked, “You love her?”

“I do,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But there is a lot of shit getting in the way.”

I wanted to tell him how I understood, how I knew time could change things, and how he had to keep fighting even if he wouldn’t win, but I didn’t. His brilliant, chaotic mind already accepted the rules of the game. He chose his moves based on intuition, guessing the reactions. Most of the time, he was right. I hated to find out how he acted when he was wrong.

Our honest, transparency with one another held us together when nothing else should have. He did his thing and I did mine and somehow, we came together when everything else fell apart. We were not only friends who fucked, but friends who loved. His substantial client list proved one thing—he didn’t have this kind of intimacy with everyone. I had seen first-hand what a domineering asshole he could be in the ring with the right sub, yet we were more than that. More than Master/slave.

I yearned for his happiness as much as he cheered on my happily ever after with D. But in the window seat that night, when he leaned closer—brokenhearted and faltering—I caught a glimpse of a man I didn’t know. His energy depleted and his emotions wrecked, he came to me for comfort. I offered my lips and spread my legs, and he did something so rare—he made love to me so I would forget about it all.

And I hate to admit it, but I did.