Little Red Riding Crop
Kingsley sighed as he sat back and adjusted his trousers. Clearly he was in the mood to knock out another week or two.
“Please...” Nora stared at him and let the mask of the infamous Dominatrix fall off her face. “I’m tired, King. And I’m...” She couldn’t quite get the word out. Kingsley had said “frustrated.” The more accurate term would have been “lonely.”
He studied her face in silence. He must have seen the truth in her words, in her eyes. She sensed his resistance give way.
“You are a dangerous woman, Nora Sutherlin. This is the last time I employ someone more manipulative than I.”
“I learned from the best.” She smiled at him, a shallow hollow smile that covered the loneliness they both felt for the one man who could twist them both around his perfect fingers. But she wouldn’t think about him today. Or ever again.
Nora said nothing more as she watched Kingsley wrestle with what little was left of his conscience.
“One month vacation.”
Nora sagged in the seat. She could have cried with relief and kissed the French out of the man with gratitude but...
“But.”
“But? I should have known there would be a but.” Nora sat back up again and gave Kingsley’s “but” the attention it deserved.
“But I need you to do an errand first. Complete the errand successfully, and I shall tell the Underground that your services have been engaged in Europe for the next month. I’ll even send you to Europe, the country of your choice.”
Nora raised her eyebrow.
“What sort of errand is this?” To earn an entire month off plus a trip to Europe on Kingsley’s dime, Nora knew she’d probably have to kill somebody. Two months without sex and she was about ready to.
“Black Forest. I need you to go there.”
Nora’s eyes widened.
“Kingsley...that’s-”
“They are more afraid of us than we are of them.”
“Then why are you sending me instead of going yourself?”
Kingsley crossed his arms over his chest and threw his booted feet up on the seat by her thighs. His every move seemed designed to show how relaxed he was, how laid back. She didn’t buy it.
“They would never let me in. I’m the enemy.”
“And I work for you which also makes me the enemy,” she reminded him.
“Black Forest is poaching my employees. They took Mistress Irena last month.”
“I know but-”
“Hunt quit today.”
Nora had heard about Irena, Kingsley’s Russian Dominatrix, defecting to Black Forest—the only BDSM club in Manhattan that could give Kingsley’s Underground Empire a run for its money. That had hurt. But losing Hunt, the sexiest male submissive in all of New York and one of Kingsley many bedtime companions? That was personal.
“So I’m supposed to go there and what? Ask for Hunt back?”
“Black Forest is a mystery even to me,” Kingsley said. “No one ever gets to meet La Grande Dame. She won’t return my calls, answer my notes...”
“She’s smart then.” She’d heard of La Grande Dame or just The Dame to the Underground. The Dame was something of a shadowy figure. Kingsley positioned himself as the King of the Underground, the face of Kink. He had no shame and lived so publicly he would have traded shares of his empire on the stock exchange had the businesses been legal. But The Dame had no face anyone had seen and no name Nora had ever heard. She couldn’t be touched, couldn’t be influenced, and most importantly, couldn’t be seduced by Kingsley Edge.
“Too smart. I don’t like not knowing my enemy. Go in if you can, find out something, anything for me. A name. A face. Or at the very least get her to stop stealing my people. Anything and you’ll have your month off in Europe. If you can get Hunt back, you can take him with you.”
“Now that is a serious offer.” Nora knew she really didn’t have anything to lose. If worse came to worse, they wouldn’t let her in, she wouldn’t get her month off, and life would go on as usual. No real danger involved except for failure. No real danger but for...but surely not. He wouldn’t be there...would he? “Brad’s not still there...is he?”
Kingsley didn’t answer.
“Shit.” Nora collapsed onto her side.
“One month, cherie. Oui ou non?”
Nora straightened up again.
“Fine. Fine fine fine. Oui. I’m going. I’ll go. Maybe Brad won’t be there today. Am I going today?”
“You’re going right now.”
Kingsley nodded at the window. The Rolls Royce had pulled up to a dark alley shrouded by two overhanging trees. The trees had inspired the name of Black Forest. One didn’t see big trees often in New York except in Central Park and yet these two seemingly had sprung from nowhere to serve as guardians of the club entrance.
As she gazed down the dark alley, water started to pound on the roof of the car as the rain turned to a storm.
“No. Today’s not good. I can’t get my leather wet.”
Kingsley reached under the seat and pulled out a red cloak with a hood.
“No more excuses.”
With a growl, Nora grabbed the cloak and pulled it around her. She covered her hair with the hood and looked once more down the alley.
“If I don’t make it back alive tell You-Know-Who-”
“You will be fine. Go. Vite!”
Kingsley waved his hand.