Obsessed (Lace Underground Trilogy Book 2) Page 3

  A groan rolls up from his chest as my fingers tighten around his cock. He releases my wrist and takes hold of my face. His kiss starts unusually gentle but quickly progresses to deep and punishing.

  I'm so heady from the onslaught, I'm barely aware when he lifts me from the water and the pool. He carries me dripping wet to one of the upholstered chaise lounges and lowers me down. I'm wet and cold and thankful when his body covers me. He leans between my thighs and places his palm against my face. Water from his hair drips onto my cheek. He flicks it away with his thumb.

  That same thumb traces around my mouth. "These lips," he mutters. "Can't get them out of my head." He kisses me as he fills me with his erection. My pussy contracts around him, but I don't melt instantly into an orgasm.

  Unlike our usual moments together, this one seems real, passionate but subdued, like two people who care about each other. It's unexpected and slightly terrifying. It's no longer the nectar doing its magic. I'm reacting physically and mentally. I want this. I want Kane. And even without the usual kinky additions, the cuffs, the anklets, the sex toys, he still wants me.

  Kane slips his hand beneath my ass and lifts me higher to meet his ever deepening thrusts. He lifts his mouth only to stare down at me, seemingly gauging my reaction to all of it. I don't know how to feel. I shouldn't be feeling anything except repulsion or shame. Instead, I feel pleasure and a connection with the man holding me beneath him. There is almost a twinge of something akin to empathy for Kane. I can't explain why.

  Kane lowers his mouth to my ear. "Sweet Sin, you're all I need." His words finish as his body moves faster. I clutch at his hard arms and wrap my legs around his waist. He plunges deeper, scooping forward with long luxurious strokes, searching for that magic g-spot. He knows my body so well. It takes him only seconds to bring my body to the edge. He hesitates before bringing me over it.

  "Say my name," he growls. "Say my name. I need to fucking hear you say my name." He thrusts into me. My pussy clenches around him.

  "Kane," I say on a breath. "Kane," I cry as the waves of pleasure overwhelm me. He moves fast and hard now, slamming into me, igniting new sensations with each move.

  "Fuck." His head drops back and he groans with release. His body is like steel, hard and rigid over me as his hot seed spills inside of me. His blue eyes flicker like flames as a shudder runs through him. He stares down at me for a long, intense moment before collapsing next to me on the chaise.

  It's that moment, that moment that Tawny craves. It seems Angie does too. That moment when his strong arms wrap around me and he pulls me against him. It doesn't usually last more than a few minutes, but something about it helps me feel right about what is happening. It helps me not feel dirty or sordid. It helps me feel wanted.

  The air inside the pool room is moist and dense with the smell of chlorine. We are poolside but there is no sun above. He's created such an oddly comfortable world. I gently trace my finger around the hollow of his throat. Unexpectedly, his throat moves with a deep swallow. I wonder briefly if my touch caused it.

  With my head clearer, my curiosity has some traction. "You so obviously have all the qualities a person needs to succeed up above, in the real world." He doesn't drop his arms or push briskly off the chaise so I continue. "You're a genius. You could be working in a research lab creating cures for cancer. Instead, you live here, just below the surface, keeping your brilliance to yourself. You would be wildly successful."

  He stays quiet long enough that I don't expect a response. Then his deep voice floats out and mingles with the humid air. "There's nothing for me out there except terrible memories."

  His hand moves down my back to my ass. He is hard again and feeling his cock press against my belly, sends a luxurious scroll of heat through me. I react instantly and jut my ass out toward his touch.

  Kane flips me onto my stomach. "On your knees," he demands. Considering the lack of nectar, I'm shamefully eager to comply.

  He moves to kneel behind me. I hold my breath in anticipation as he takes firm hold of my hips. "Besides," his voice is deep and heavy as he invades my pussy. "I have everything I want right here."

  6

  Maddox

  "Get in here, Maddox," Clark calls from his office. I click out of the social media accounts the tech team has created for my alternate personality, Rick Haverton, the twenty-five-year-old reckless, shallow heir to a huge fortune. Apparently, most of my unearned money is sitting in foreign accounts avoiding U.S. taxes like all good rich people, but Captain Clark called in some favors and had a fake multi-million dollar account created in my new name.

  "What’s up?"

  "Close the door," he says grumpily, which either means something is up or someone grabbed the maple bar, his maple bar from the donut box in the break room. Both events can cause the same reaction.

  "The jig is up, as they say." He sits back and steeples his fingers on his belly.

  I stare at him in confusion. "Gonna need more than that."

  "Investigators finally made some headway into the two murders. Turns out one guy was just a run of the mill rich creep who was known to strangle women during sex."

  "Nice." I sit forward. "They allow murderers in the club as long as they can pay the fee?"

  Clark sits forward too. "No, that’s why the guy is dead. We don’t have direct evidence yet. It seems Freestone runs a clean vigilante operation. The security cameras and data at the victim's estate were all stolen. No one was seen entering or leaving on the day of the murder. While it’s been determined the man was bludgeoned to death in his own bathroom, there is no weapon. But a little digging into the victim's past brought up some pretty creepy stuff, stuff that only a man who grew up in a wealthy family could get covered up. By all accounts, choking was a big turn on. When he was in his twenties, he left one very expensive escort in a vegetative coma. They pulled the plug a year later. The charges were mysteriously dropped when the woman’s family received ample compensation for their grief." Clark rolls his eyes to show his disgust. "If some silver spoon freak put my little girl in a coma, I wouldn’t rest until I put the guy in his own vegetative state. And then I wouldn’t let them pull the plug. I’d make him live like that, a breathing corpse."

  I’m listening with some amusement. "I’m guessing that little tangent has more to do with the kid Hannah is dating than some rich guy with overprotective parents."

  Clark grabs a stick of gum from his desk drawer. "The kid has piercings through his brow and his lip. Piercings," he repeats in case I didn't hear. "Hannah thinks they’re cool, but all I want to do is rip them right through that cocky little asshole's lip." He shovels the stick of gum into his mouth. The rant stops while he tackles the tough piece.

  I slap my hands on the arms of the chair. "Well, glad to act as your anger management therapist, Cap’n, but if we’re finished here, I’ve got to get back to memorizing my assets and my portfolio. It seems I have a place right on the beach in the Bahamas. Can’t wait to hang out there. If you play your cards right, you’ll get an invite."

  "Stay right there, Maddox. We’re not through. The second guy was killed in the same way."

  "Another sicko?"

  "Nope. Turns out the guy wasn’t a billionaire with a penchant for underground sex parties. He was undercover."

  "No way. Feds? Do they know anything about Ten?"

  "Not feds and the guy was killed before Ten went undercover. See, and this is why I can’t send you in. You can’t even think straight about this whole fucking thing."

  "What? Bullshit. I’m thinking straight. If not feds, then who?"

  "Turns out Nutrite, the big pharmaceutical company, hired a private eye to get into the Lace Underground. Not to bring Freestone down but to steal the drug he invented. It’s the female version of male potency drugs. Only apparently it’s about a hundred times more effective."

  "The lady part version of 'if your erection lasts four hours head to the hospital'?" I sit back hard.

  "Yeah, I’ll
let you chew on that little fantasy for a second. I know I did." He pulls a picture from a folder. "Same bashed in skull. The fancy bathroom was in a house the company rented to make the guy look rich. Just like us. Only Freestone saw through it and had the guy killed."

  I push the picture back toward him. "That's cuz they sent in an amateur. He probably got caught stealing the stuff out of there. Did any get out, by the way?" I ask with enough enthusiasm that it pinches his face in annoyance.

  "If it did, it wasn't found in the evidence search."

  I shrug. "Just wondering. Could be the next best thing to bacon topped milkshakes."

  "Yeah, like you've ever needed help in that department." His eyes tighten to a squint. "Haven't seen Tiffany around much. Did you tell her that you'd be going on assignment?"

  I shake my head. "No, and you won't be seeing her. We broke up."

  His eyes pop back to normal size. "Really. Too bad. I thought she was good for you. I'd say you lost on that one."

  "Yep, she'll do way better than me." I sit up straight to shake away the topic. "So my mind is fucking clear as glass now. I'm ready to get in there. Just give me the go ahead, and I'll get in contact with the few names on the possible club member list."

  I know the captain well enough to know he's rethinking the whole fucking thing.

  "Don't pull the plug on this, Clark."

  "I've already risked one of my detectives, I don't relish the idea of sending another one into the abyss."

  "No abyss. I'll be working it from a different angle, a participating member of the club who is free to travel in and out."

  "Unless Freestone figures out it's a trap. He's fucking smart. We interviewed a few of his coworkers from when he was in pharmaceutical research. They said the guy is basically an introvert. Hates most people. And he's calculating and cold."

  "Except he's apparently big on protecting the women he has working for him. It's the first thing you've said that has put me a little more at ease."

  Clark looks across the desk at me with a grim set mouth. "What if your presence alerts him that something isn't right with one of his girls? You could do more harm than good."

  I stand up angrily and the chair rolls back a few feet. "And what if she's fucking stuck in there? He might be protective of his commodities," I say the last word through gritted teeth. I've been working hard to not think about what goes on in the club and what part Ten is playing in the whole damn thing but it's getting harder to ignore. "We don't know if those women are being held there against their will. Maybe Ten hasn't figured a way out. She's been there for nearly six weeks. I need to infiltrate the club and find out what the fuck is going on. Like I said before, I'll go in there with or without your support."

  "Yeah, you fucking told me that. Fine. I won't pull the plug. There's a good chance you won't even find a way in. They'll probably take one look at you and say 'nope can't trust this yahoo'. Now get out of my office. I've got some calls to make."

  "Thanks. I won't let you down."

  "Hmm, let me think, where have I heard those words before?" he mutters as I walk out of his office.

  7

  Angie

  Blake is skipping around the room like he just won the lottery. "I think those two bathing suits are all you'll need." He peers back over his shoulder at me from the dresser. "Besides, the boss prefers you not to be overdressed," he says wryly.

  "This is all so sudden." I'm sitting on the bed still trying to absorb the news. "So we are actually going above, on the surface, where sunlight and oxygen mingle together? And on top of that, we'll be on a boat? On the water? The real live ocean and not just some artificial body of water with pretend waves and added salt?"

  "Can't promise the ocean will be live, although there's plenty of slimy stuff beneath the waves that qualifies as live." Blake shivers in disgust before whipping a pile of panties out of the dresser. He grabs some bras too and carries them to the bed where a suitcase sits wide open, waiting to be filled with vacation necessities. He packs the underwear and reaches over to nudge me. "Hurry in and take a shower. They'll be driving us to the airport in thirty minutes."

  My thoughts dash around so fast in my head I can't focus on one. For the first time in nearly two months, I'll be free from the underground complex. Freedom? Freedom. If the opportunity presents itself, do I run? Or swim? A laugh shoots from my mouth. I quickly stifle it and head into the bathroom. I stop in front of the mirror, hoping I can see brave, adventurous, independent Angie in the reflection, but the thin, wide-eyed girl looking back at me doesn't look hopeful. For the first time in weeks I have a chance to free myself from this world, from Kane, the nectar. I stare at the face in the mirror and think hard about that possibility. The tears flow almost instantly. It's impossible. I've grown so dependent on all of it, on him. How on earth could I leave it? Is there even enough of the old me left to survive without the Lace Underground?

  The other women living here had lives of despair, rotten luck, terrible families. This place is their home. This place keeps them alive, and from what I've observed, happy. The nectar helps with that, of course. I left a good life behind. There was some absolute heartbreak and major disappointments along the way, but for the most part, Angie Tennyson was a successful, independent woman. But she disappeared somewhere along the way.

  Blake pokes his head into the bathroom. "Oh my gosh, can you move any slower, you turtle?"

  I turn to look at him. "I'm scared shitless about going above, Blake. I feel like I won't even know how to act in public. What's happened to me?"

  Blake shuffles on his sandals into the bathroom. "It's just a little paranoia brought on because you need your nectar."

  "Shit, just how many fucking side effects does that stuff leave behind?"

  Blake puts his hands on his hips and arches his brow at me. "Not sure but I think we can add grumpiness to the list."

  "Sorry, I'm just excited and nervous." I show him my shaky hand and quickly remember that trembling is also a side effect.

  He grabs my hand to steady it. "Get in the shower. I'll get you an extra big dose. Looks like you're going to need it."

  I stand inside the steam-filled shower and let the hot water run down my face and back. It's only been a day since I last saw Kane, yet my entire body aches for him. That thought circles and squeezes me like a noose. How can I leave the man or run from him or for that matter turn in evidence against him when I can't stop thinking about him? I'm his willing prisoner. The truth is, I'm in a slight state of panic when the leather cuffs and anklets are sitting unlaced in a pile on the vanity. I feel more secure when I am wearing them. They remind me that I'm his eager captive, the woman who paces the bedroom floor to pass the minutes between his visits.

  Blake knocks on the glass door. He's holding a towel open to hurry me along. He's far more anxious than me to go above. It makes me smile to see him so excited. I quickly finish my shower and step into the towel.

  Blake pats me dry. "Have a seat at the vanity, darlin'. We'll get you all dolled up." He leans back and looks at me. "Those protein smoothies have helped but you're still too thin. Maybe I'll have the chef double their size."

  "Yes and then I can blow up like that blueberry girl in the Willy Wonka movie."

  Blake laughs and heads over to the medicine panel. "And the Oompas can roll you down to the juicing room. What on earth made you think of Willy Wonka?"

  "Someone once told me getting into the Lace Underground is like winning a golden ticket."

  Blake turns around with the syringe. The amber liquid almost fills the vial. "Well then, darlin', here's your candy fix for the day."

  8

  Angie

  My brief notion that this would be a normal vacation quickly evaporates when I am blindfolded for the drive to the airport. The nectar has pushed me into that blissful haze that makes the blindfold more fun than worry. My hands rub over the soft leather seating in what feels like the back of a large car, a limousine possibly. The last thing I
saw before Blake tied on my blindfold was a dark corridor leading to what I concluded was a garage due to the fumes of exhaust and sound of running engines behind it.

  The car door opens and shuts. Instantly, I'm comforted by the scent of Kane's soap. He taps on a window. "Let's move. The plane is waiting." His voice circles around me. The deep, rich sound makes my pulse race.

  I can feel the weight of him on the seat next to me but make no attempt to reach for him. He makes the first move. Always. I've grown to expect and love it. The wait only increases my state of arousal.

  "Yes, change the interviews for new members to same time next week. We'll be back by then." His business-like tone and the one sided conversation let me know he's on the phone. "Call if you need me." The call ends.

  I hear the movement of a small motor or gears like the panel for the medicine or music in my room. A popping sound and the clink of glasses is followed by the sweet scent of champagne. More nectar. Blake gave me extra to calm my nerves. If I relax any more, I might just slip off the seat into a puddle.

  I flinch slightly when a glass touches my lips. "Drink," he says.

  I take a sip and rest my head back. My drugged state, the movement of the car and his nearness make me dizzy. He lifts the glass to my lips again.

  I shake my head. "I'm so high right now, if you open a window, I'll float out."

  "Blake shouldn't increase the dose without asking me." There's a hard edge to his voice.

  Instantly I come to my friend's defense. "No, it's my fault. I asked him to do it. I was so nervous about the trip, about going out in public," I let the last words trail off realizing how pathetic and weak I sound. I fucking need to pull Angie back. I need her. I'm becoming as fragile as a porcelain doll. One bad fall and I'll break into a million pieces.