Black Listed (11 page)

“Yes, doctor. Whatever you feel you have to do to give me a thorough exam.”

“This may feel a little cold.”

She shivered as he spilled an obscene amount of lube over her spread pussy. He wasn't kidding about it being cold.

“Now I'm going to start with two fingers.” He slowly inserted them inside, the glove and the lubrication helping them slide more easily. He thrust them in and out a couple times, giving her warm tingles that permeated through her belly.

His gaze was locked with hers, his eyes full of heat. He added a third finger, giving her a moment to acclimate before he slowly separated them in order to stretch her vaginal walls. He played with her inside, the pads of his fingers stroking various spots, some which made her jolt as if she'd been electrocuted and others that made her wince from discomfort. She continued to relax her muscles, knowing if she tensed, it would make it more difficult.

“I'm adding the fourth.” He cupped his fingers close together, putting them in the shape of a duck's bill, and slipped them all inside of her, working them deep, past his knuckles and further still.

He filled her completely, the burning stretch from his fingers causing her to become even more aroused. It was pain, but it was the type she craved. An erotic pain caused by her lover and Master.

Her heart hammered wildly against her breastbone, the tightness in her core growing more and more pronounced as her climax neared. “Yellow,” she said.

Sawyer stilled. “Am I hurting you?”

“Yes,” she answered. “But it's the good kind of hurt. In fact, it's so good, I'm about to come. Just give me a moment to head it off.”

His lips tilted up in a grin. “Take all the time you need.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, terminating the intense connection with Sawyer. About a minute later, she felt her arousal return to a mild simmer. “I'm good. Please continue.”

His throat worked over a swallow. “Do you think you're ready for all five?”

“I don't know. You're the doctor. What do you think?”

“I think you can. I think you want it as badly as I do.”

“What do you get out of this?” she asked, her gaze falling on the gigantic bulge in his jeans.

“Euphoria. How many other people have been inside of you like this?”

“None.”

“Exactly. I own this pussy. It's mine to tease.” He slid his hand out of her, and after adding more lube to his fingers, tucked his thumb in the middle of his palm and began to push back inside. “Mine to fuck. Mine to share.”

A cry tore from her throat and her legs trembled as his entire hand began to disappear in her pussy. Her head whipped back and forth on the pillow, a chant of “oh my God” spilling from her lips. She'd thought she'd remembered what it had felt like, but she'd underestimated the intensity. The fullness. The surrender. It was like comparing a light rain to a category five hurricane.

“You should see how fucking sexy this looks. My entire hand up to my goddamned wrist inside of you. I wish I could take a picture of this, so I could jack off to it later. Good thing I've got one hell of a memory.”

She felt the heat of his hand and every bump and ridge of his knuckles as they pressed against her inner walls. It was as if he was reaching so deep inside, he could actually touch her soul. When he gently wiggled his hand inside her in tiny circles, she gasped with the sensations swirling through every inch of her body.

For a long moment, she hovered on the precipice of something so large, there was no sound.

No smell.

No taste.

No sight.

Only
feeling
.

Her Master consumed her, taking her to new heights so frightening, she worried she'd never survive the fall.

The climax built and built and built, her muscles trembling and twitching out of control. Inhuman noises spilled from her throat, desperate moans that had she been in her right mind might have embarrassed her. A tension in her belly coiled tight as Sawyer's hand rubbed her G-spot. She was on fire, burning alive in heaven on earth. And when he finally used his other hand to pinch her clitoris and commanded her to come, her orgasm hit her with the force of a freight train, smashing her into a million tiny pieces. Liquid gushed from her pussy, soaking the bed, and wave after wave of intense contractions racked her body.

As she came down from the high, she heard him whispering endearments, calling her “good girl,” and telling her how proud he was of her. She lay boneless on the bed, half asleep and half rejuvenated.

He lifted her off the mattress and cradled her to his chest. “You're sleeping with me tonight.”

She snuggled into him. “Are you going to fuck me now?”

“No, my girl. You need your sleep.”

“Okay, Master. Good night.”

He placed her under the covers and then joined her, spooning her and tucking her head under his chin. A cool weight settled around her neck.

Her hand instinctively went to her throat, fingering the cool metal around it.

Dread washing over her, she opened her eyes to the darkness of the room.

He'd collared her.

T
AKING ANOTHER BITE
of her crispy bacon, Lisa tried to pretend she wasn't eavesdropping on Sawyer's phone conversation with one of his techie friends who had been researching her old marks.

Things had been a little . . . uncomfortable for her this morning, in more ways than one. Her butt was still sore from the beating he'd given it yesterday, an examination in the mirror this morning confirming the belt he'd used had left red welts and bruises. Kinky freak that she was, she loved it. In fact, the more it ached, the wetter she got.

And she could still feel the stretch in her pussy, feel his entire hand inside her, filling her, rubbing her, completing her.

Sitting here, pretending she wasn't turned on, that her clit wasn't pulsing and her panties weren't soaked, was in itself a turn-on. She wanted him to hang up his call and order her to her knees so she could get him off and then push her backward onto the table, hook her legs around his neck, and eat his breakfast between her thighs.

She finished eating and touched the other reason for her discomfort.

Her collar.

Not because she didn't want it. But because she didn't know what it meant.

Was she supposed to wear it for the week and then return it? Or did he have expectations that what they shared would last beyond that?

When she'd opened her eyes this morning, it was the first thing on her mind. But he was already in the shower, and after he'd gotten dressed, there didn't seem to be a good way to approach the topic. Or maybe she just wasn't ready to hear his answer.

So instead she'd opted to wait for him to bring it up.

An hour later, and he still hadn't mentioned it. But his gaze continuously went to her neck, his eyes flashing hungrily each time. It was a sign of her commitment to him and a public display of his ownership to anyone who recognized the chain for what it represented.

She belonged to him.

Before, they'd considered themselves to have a 24-7 slave relationship. She was sure that others would have disagreed. After all, she hadn't walked around calling him “Master” and hadn't relied on him to choose her outfit for the day, nor had he expected her to eat a prescribed diet. Like all relationships, vanilla and otherwise, theirs was unique. They chose what they felt worked the best for them, and that was to maintain their roles outside of the bedroom. It had worked for them, and she'd never given a damn about anyone else's opinion.

She'd changed so much since then. Built a career and bought a home. She'd learned how to stand on her own two feet.

Even if somehow she and Sawyer stayed together, how would things work between them? Her business was here, and the main headquarters of Hayes Industries was out west. As long as he refused to give up his role as CEO, he was tied to that company.

There were still too many unknowns—lies and secrets between them on both their parts. If she questioned him about the significance of the collar and their future, she feared it would create a rift between them that would be impossible to fix.

As she placed her dirty dishes on the room service cart, she decided she'd rather not risk ruining their current agreement. If things ended at the end of the week, at least she would have a week full of memories. And she needed those memories. Because she'd never be with anyone else.

Sawyer was it for her. For now and for always. Time and distance wouldn't change that.

After saying good-bye, he put his phone into his pocket and strode over to her, his intent written all over his face. When he stood in front of her, he slid one finger under her collar, tugging her against him and kissing her deeply and unhurriedly, his lips somehow firm and yielding at the same time.

With a loud sigh, he pulled back, worry visible by the wrinkled lines around his eyes. “That was Oz. They haven't finished checking everyone out, but they narrowed down the list to three possible suspects, one in particular. Were you aware that one of your marks lives an hour from you?”

Her arousal died instantly. “No. Who?” What were the odds of someone she'd conned living so close?

Had they been keeping tabs on her? Or was it a coincidence?

Blue veins popped from his clenched fists. “His name is Chad Winters. The guys are checking his bank records to see if they can track his movement, but I think it's best if I go speak with him one on one.”

The rage coming off Sawyer frightened her. What if he did something stupid that got him hurt or arrested? If Chad Winters was responsible for trying to kill Sawyer, she needed to be there to protect him.

She grabbed her purse off the couch. “I'm going with you.”

If anything, he looked even angrier. “I don't think it's a good idea. If we're wrong, he could call the cops on you once you show up on his doorstep.”

She hadn't thought of that possibility, but she'd risk it in order to ensure Sawyer's safety. “I'm willing to take that chance. Other than to you, I've never had the opportunity to apologize for what I did.”

Although it wasn't the real reason she wanted to go with him, it was true. Maybe this would give her a bit of closure on her past.

He stared at her long and hard, and then he gave her a brief nod. “Let's go.”

Their drive to the small town where Chad Winters lived was fraught with tension, each of them lost in their own thoughts. She nibbled on her thumbnail, growing more nervous with each passing mile and unable to shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. All these years she'd tried to protect Sawyer, and in less than an hour, they could be serving themselves up to the man who wanted them dead.

Several times she almost asked him to turn around, but she knew he would only drop her off and go back without her. She had no other choice but to see this through.

It shamed her that she couldn't remember much about Chad Winters other than the size of his bank account. Most of the men she'd swindled had blended into one faceless individual, their characteristics too similar to help differentiate them from the others. Most were wealthy, middle-aged, and lonely. Although they had money, they had little else in their lives, and their confidence was poor. So when she fell into their lives and worshipped the ground they walked on, they'd do anything to keep her . . .

Maybe she didn't want to remember them.

She knew she deserved to suffer for the way she'd treated them. While she never conned them out of enough money that they had become penniless, it certainly couldn't have helped their self-esteem to know that she'd never really worshipped them and that all the money in the world couldn't buy happiness.

They pulled into the trailer park. As she got a look at where Chad Winters now lived, pangs of guilt caused her stomach to cramp. She hadn't stolen much from him, but obviously, it had been enough for him to lose his house.

She'd lived in plenty of these neighborhoods throughout the country. A lot of them were beautifully maintained neighborhoods, where people looked out for each other and kids played outside.

This was not one of those.

That's why, as they parked the car outside of a dilapidated trailer with its rusted siding and multiple dents, she realized that her actions had consequences she hadn't foreseen.

Before taking Sawyer's millions, she'd never cheated anybody out of more than one hundred thousand dollars. That had been the arbitrary limit her parents had set based on their years of experience. It was enough to make the con worthwhile, but not enough to cause a millionaire to go to the cops. The marks were too embarrassed to file police reports or go to the FBI, and some were criminals who couldn't afford to get the authorities involved.

Chad Winters had obviously lost more than the money she'd tricked him out of. From what she could recall, she'd only managed to finagle fifty thousand dollars, after telling him she could get him a rare first-edition Superman comic book. At the time, he'd had a net worth of over ten million dollars.

Had her actions caused a chain reaction that had resulted in the man living in this trailer park?

Sawyer knew bits and pieces about her past, but she feared he would feel differently about her after meeting one of the other men she defrauded. The woman he thought he knew was not the woman Chad Winters would have known. She changed into whomever would most tempt the mark, whether that was a quiet kindergarten teacher, a bored college student, or the sexually adventurous submissive, as in Sawyer's case.

A loud bang tore through the car, the noise reverberating in her ears.

“Get down!” she shouted. On instinct, she ducked, expecting the glass of the windows to shatter, her entire body trembling and her heart racing as if she'd just finished a marathon.

Was someone shooting at them? Was Chad Winters trying to kill them?

Sawyer's hand came down on her shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly. “It's okay,” he said in a soothing tone. “It was a car backfiring.”

She covered her face with her hands. Realizing she'd been holding her breath, she exhaled.

He undid her seat belt and angled her knees toward him. “Hey. Are you sure you want to do this with me? I can take you back to the hotel. Talk to him on my own.”

The coward in her wanted to do just that. To slink away and hide behind the locked door of the penthouse suite at the hotel. To never have to come face-to-face with her shameful past.

But she wouldn't. It was time to confront her past, and the only way to do it was to stand strong in the present. If Chad called the cops on her, she'd accept it. This was her chance to apologize for her crimes and to make reparations. Of course, if he was behind the break-in and the attempt on their lives, she'd make certain she wasn't the only one going to prison.

“I'm good,” she said with a brisk nod. Even though her heart was still in her throat, she sat up, threw open the car door, and stuck one leg outside. “Let's go.”

She could tell from the narrowing of his eyes that he didn't believe her. But to his credit, he didn't say anything. Merely got out of the car and strolled around it to take her hand, giving her a gentle squeeze that served as a reminder that they were in this together.

A dog barked from inside the trailer, and judging by the sound of it, the dog was a large one. She rubbed her sweaty palm on the side of her jeans and prayed that when Chad opened the door, she'd discover a poodle with a bark stronger than its bite, rather than the Doberman she was picturing in her mind.

They cut across the tall wild grass toward the front door and climbed the broken steps. Sawyer didn't let go of her hand as he knocked firmly with his other.

A man's voice from inside yelled at the dog, his footsteps approaching the door. The door creaked open, the chain lock still on. “If you're here to save my eternal soul, you might as well get your asses off my property now, 'cause I'm not in the mood to be saved and my dog's not the nicest of beasts.”

She couldn't see all of him, but the voice was familiar, as was the visible ginger beard. Now she remembered him. Remembered him as a shy and extremely trusting man whose wife of thirty years, his high-school sweetheart, had left him for another man. A successful heart surgeon, he'd been a bit of a science-fiction geek, and they'd spent most of their time going to comic-book conventions. The other time was spent in bed, where she'd helped convince him his ex-wife definitely hadn't left him because of a lack of sexual prowess.

Staring at him now, she couldn't reconcile the man in the trailer with the man she knew. But when his gaze focused in on her and rage flashed within his eyes, she knew without a doubt he recognized her.

The door slammed shut only long enough for Chad to remove the chain from it, and then it opened wide, allowing the scary-looking pit bull to poke his head outside and snarl at them. She held her breath and froze in fear, waiting for him to attack.

“Chewy, sit,” ordered Chad. Surprisingly, the spastic dog listened. Chad stepped out onto the porch and shut the door, leaving the well-behaved dog inside. “What are you doing here, Lana? Or should I call you Lisa Smith?” he spit out.

He'd definitely seen the photo from the newspaper.

She spoke quietly in an effort to calm him. “I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry for what I did to you, Chad.”

“Sorry isn't going to get my retirement savings back, now is it?” His lips twisted into a sneer. He was nothing like the man she remembered. Not that she blamed him. “What are you doing here?”

She glanced at Sawyer. He squeezed her hand, giving her the strength she needed. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

“Really?” Chad asked, folding his arms across his chest and smiling. “Do tell. I love a good story.”

“Our car's brakes were cut,” she said, not offering any additional information.

Chad raised a brow. “And you immediately thought of me, huh? I'm honored.”

“No,” she admitted. “You're only one in a handful of possibilities.”

His eyes narrowed as if he was angry that he wasn't unique. “Ah, of course.” He turned to Sawyer. “So who's this? Your bodyguard?”

Sawyer dropped her hand and took a menacing step closer to Chad. “I'm her husband, and you're starting to piss me off. So answer a few questions for us. Do you know anything about those brakes?”

“I'm sure Lana—I mean
Lisa
—could tell you, I know nothing about cars. I'm more interested in taking apart a human, rather than a motor.” He tapped a couple fingers on his forehead. “Although, I suppose I could have learned. I mean, I was one of the top heart surgeons in the country at one time. If I could carve into the chest of a living human and hold their beating heart in my hand, it wouldn't have been too difficult to study up on the mechanics of a vehicle, right?”

Sawyer grabbed the collar of Chad's shirt, yanking him forward. “Just answer the fucking question, Winters, before I pull out your heart and feed it to your psycho dog.”