Belong to Me

His blue eyes darkened. “Yes.”



Without another word, she stepped out of her clothes, one garment at a time, then neatly folded each into a little pile, which she set before him. Once done, she stood, waiting, cool air brushing over her nipples, making them tight. They throbbed. Logan sent her a hot stare that nearly made her toes curl.



Damn it, why did he still get to her? She had to overcome this arousal. Her body and feelings weren’t important, just the mission.



Easy to think, but hard to remember when Logan stepped so close she felt heat pouring off his hard, substantial body. He lifted a finger to her, its tip settling between her breasts, and brushed a soft, tantalizing line directly down her abdomen slowly, pausing just above the mound of her sex. He waited there, unmoving. Incredibly, his light touch made her pussy clench with emptiness. Blood rushed between her thighs, moisture pooled, coating her folds, though he’d barely touched her.



Finally, his finger descended again. He smiled as it drifted through her damp red curls to nestle against her hard clit, which swelled under his touch.



His smile only widened. “Good, Cherry. Today, we’re going to start with a demonstration. It will provide you instruction, as well as help me understand how best to proceed. Let’s go.”



He tugged her toward the door, and she pulled from his grasp. “I can’t go out there naked.”



The second her words were out, Tara knew she’d made a mistake.



“Your nudity isn’t your concern.” Logan’s face was a thunderclap of displeasure. “While you train with me, you and your body belong to me. As always, you can say your safe word. In that case, we will discuss and resolve the issue, then resume training. Or you may quit the mission altogether, in which case I’m sure that Thorpe and the FBI will happily sever all contact between us.”



His cold speech set her teeth on edge. She was a grown, capable woman. Putting herself in someone else’s hands so utterly felt foreign. She worked every day in an environment where she was expected to suppress her own emotions and use her logic, so suddenly having to do the opposite wasn’t easy. Training with Logan scared her to death. But if she was going to solve this case and possibly be a successful agent, she had to suck up her courage and swallow her pride.



“Understood, Logan.”



She expected amusement to flash across his features. Instead, searing desire glowed in his dark blue eyes, flushed the slashes of his cheekbones. A glance down told her that his erection still bulged in his leather pants.



Her breathing grew unstable when he turned her away, took her arm in one hand and slung the other low on her opposite hip, and led her out of the dungeon. A frightening sense of exposure washed over her as they walked down the hall. Though the club wasn’t quite open for public play yet, Thorpe and some of the other resident Doms were already roaming. She’d run into a few as she rushed to confront Logan. But then, she’d been clothed. Now, he was parading her though the halls without a stitch, his touch all but branding her.



It terrified her, and yet . . . Tara felt Logan’s desire spilling hotly in the air between them, along with his pride and pleasure that she overcame her own fears to follow his command. As much as she hated to admit it, it turned her on.



She turned to him with a puzzled glance over her shoulder. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”



He glanced at her hot cheeks. “You want to know why you’re responding to this. Because deep inside, you feel sensual in your own skin. And you know that you’re pleasing your Dom by trusting me, which for a submissive, is a pleasure all its own.”



“I shouldn’t give a god damn whether you’re happy. You don’t care whether I am.”



Logan leveled her with a direct blue stare. “You’re dead wrong. There are things you don’t know, and I want to tell you . . .” He shook his head. “When you’re ready. Just know that your happiness matters more than anything. If you let me, I’ll fulfill your fantasies. Your submission, if you truly give it, will allow me the privilege of doing so.”



His words sent a fission of heat through her, which she ruthlessly pressed down. Focus on the academic. “None of this makes a damn bit of sense.”



“It will. Come with me.”



As they rounded a corner, they came face-to-face with another Dom. She didn’t know his name, but he had that sharp, shrewd way about him. He’d be dangerous across a negotiating table. Under that pristine dress shirt and tailored slacks beat the heart of a predator. He and Logan had that in common.



“Jason,” Logan greeted.



“Edgington.” His gray eyes flickered over to her.



Tara squirmed as she felt the man’s gaze touch her face, her breasts, the flat of her belly, then settle for a brief moment on the red curls guarding her sex. Tara crossed one leg in front of the other, settled her arms over her chest.



“Hands at your sides and feet apart,” Logan demanded.



He wanted Jason to look at her? Knowing she had to get past this hurdle for her mission, Tara forced herself to comply. Logan rewarded her with a smile of approval that lit her up inside.



Damn it, why? Normally, she’d be running for cover, refusing to let a stranger see her and wondering if he found her lacking. She’d be fuming that Logan demanded she show herself. She damn sure wouldn’t care what he thought of her behavior. But all of those mores and insecurities paled when she saw the flash of his smile. Why?



“Get out of your head,” Logan instructed. “Don’t look for logic. Just feel.”



Right. Her discomfort wasn’t the point. Learning to give herself over to the mission—to him—was.



Jason grinned, then glanced back at Logan. “How’s your slave in training?”



“In need of a lot of instruction. I was actually coming to ask if you’re seeing the policewoman today.”



“Greta should be here in ten minutes. It was the only time she had today, so I took an early lunch.” He grinned. “Gotta love nooners.”



“Do you mind if we use your observation room? This sub needs to see what submission truly means.”



“Sure. I think you’ll find Greta has been both an apt and eager pupil.”



Tara tried to leash her curiosity as they entered the observation room. The tiny space was dark, dominated by one huge window that overlooked an unfamiliar play room. A futon, the only thing in the room, stood in the shadowed corner, allowing occupants some comfort while they watched. It could also be pulled into a bed at a moment’s notice.



“What was that about, Logan?”



He shut the door behind them, enclosing them in the small space. The wall trapped her on one side, Logan on the other as he turned to her in the shadowed room. “You want to know why I allowed Jason to see you naked.”



“Encouraged it, even.”



“It’s not about him, and normally, I wouldn’t share you. But you’re going to have to be comfortable with your own nudity on this mission, regardless of who’s around. I’ll be testing you until you overcome your discomfort. It’s a telltale sign of an untrained sub.”



And that’s probably what had gotten Darcy made and abducted. Tara’s past, both distant and recent, with Logan didn’t matter. Training to succeed at this mission did.



“Will you genuinely prepare me to go undercover? No mind games?”



“I’ll make sure you’re prepared for any situation you encounter.” He sent her a serious stare. “But mind games come with the territory. Domination and submission is one giant mind fuck.”



“As long as I’m prepared to hold my own, I can live with that.”



“You’re good with firearms and hand-to-hand?”



“Yeah, but I’m sparring every night to keep myself sharp. That’s one thing Robert is damn good at.”



“York is never going to be a convincing Dom.”



Exactly as she’d feared. “Maybe Axel can keep working with—”



“Never,” Logan underscored. “And that’s something I’m going to talk to Thorpe about. Starting tomorrow, Axel and I will both be checking in with your boss, Bocelli, daily. If York can’t pull this off, we’re going to be brutally honest.”



“You can’t have Robert yanked off this case. It will take too long to bring someone else in. We’ve already invested dozens of hours in—”



“Let us worry about that. You have enough on your plate, learning to be a convincing sub in seven days.”



“But—”



“For the next week, who is your Dom?” Even in the dark, she discerned his raised brow, his more aggressive stance.



“You are.” When he threw her a pointed glare, she sighed. “Logan.”



“What does any Dom desire above all else?”



“Obedience.”



He shook his head. “Trust. With that, obedience naturally follows. And underneath all that tough-girl FBI training, that’s who you are. I realize trust is going to be more difficult with our history, but I need you to understand that I would never do anything to put you in jeopardy. Ever. I’d make myself bleed first.”



Wow. The gravity of his emphatic tone confused Tara, like he had some hidden message beyond his actual words. She frowned. But she wasn’t here to get personal with Logan, so she wasn’t touching that statement with a ten-foot pole.



“Tell me about Agent Miles’ disappearance,” he said into her silence, switching topics.



It was a command—one Tara found easy to comply with. “Darcy was sent near Key West to attend a singles’ weekend at a resort that caters to dominance and submission. That’s where Darcy and two other women have gone missing. Darcy reported in during her first two days at the resort to say that she’d attended lectures and demonstrations. They paired her up with a few Doms, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Then she said she’d been invited to a special demonstration by the resort’s director, Lincoln Kantor. Three hours later, we received eight seconds of distress signal from her before the transmission ended abruptly. We haven’t heard from her since. That was seven days ago.”



“And now you’re against a ticking clock.”



Tara nodded, worry twisting her stomach in knots. “I know I’m supposed to train with you for a week. I’m not sure Darcy has that long.”



Logan took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. She found the gesture ridiculously comforting. “But I won’t send you in unprepared. The FBI will only lose another agent.”



“I know.”



With a squeeze of her hand, he acknowledged her difficulty in dealing with this reality. “If there’s a way to save Darcy, we will. Let’s focus on getting you ready.”



She nodded, and a few moments later, Jason and his policewoman entered the room. The instant the door shut, Jason’s shoulders squared. He appeared bigger, adopted a mantle of authority.



He didn’t say a word to the woman, just sent her an expectant stare. Immediately, she removed her uniform, one garment at a time, until she stood completely bare, the ends of her long, dark hair brushing her mid-back. Then she kneeled at his feet, knees spread, palms up, head down. Even from here, Tara felt her desperation to please.



Jason ruffled her hair. “Very good, pet. Have you done as I asked during our last session?”



“Yes, Master.”



“Show me.”



Greta didn’t hesitate before she uncurled her legs from beneath her, rocked back on her ass, legs spread wide for Jason’s view.



He dropped to one knee and his hand disappeared between her legs. “Very nice. Shaved or waxed?”



“Waxed,” she panted. “Brazilian.”



“And I see you’ve complied with regard to the anal plug. Is this the largest?”



“Yes, Master. I put it in this morning. It was challenging, but I’m ready for you now.”



In Greta’s voice, Tara heard the need for Jason’s acceptance and pleasure. Her own knowledge about the shadowy world of BDSM was almost exclusively academic and yet . . . Tara already understood exactly how the other woman felt. It struck a chord in her, all the times she’d done her best to please Brad or another lover by cutting her hair a certain way or buying a sexy pair of shoes. Most of her efforts had gone unnoticed.



For a crazy moment, Tara wanted a man who would truly notice her, down to the last detail. A man like—



She didn’t dare finish that thought.



But memories filtered in as her gaze skittered Logan’s way. In high school, he’d usually noticed when she’d even changed her sweater. The afternoon he’d taken her innocence, he remarked on everything, all the way down to her birthmarks and the way she flushed before she came.



Jason smiled, stroking between her legs again. Greta’s thigh blocked her view, but whatever was going on, the woman moaned.



“I’m very proud of you, pet,” Jason crooned. “You deserve a reward, which you’ll get as soon as we deal with your punishment for Tuesday.”