His Judgment

Piper Stone

Blushing Books

©2017 by Blushing Books® and Piper Stone

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Piper Stone

His Judgment

EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-345-7

Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Piper Stone

EBook Offer

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Chapter 1

“Murderer!”

“Kill the bastard!”

“He should fry in hell for what he did!”

“He’s an innocent man!”

The screams and chanting from both sides came fast and furious. Joelle Parker took the courthouse steps two at a time, avoiding the bank of reporters, family, friends and co-workers of both the accused murderer and his victims. The mob was growing in number, the case an ugly reminder of the increasing horrific crimes in Baltimore. They were all judging her on her performance or lack thereof. Even her boss had threatened to take over, stating she wasn’t qualified to handle such a high priority case. To hell with all of them. She was damn good.

When she was safely inside, she breathed out and wiped a single bead of sweat from her forehead. She refused to be on the news, fodder for some buxom blonde who would use the fifteen minutes of fame to parlay a career on national television. Not her style.

She hurried through the checkpoints and entered the courtroom, her head held high. She was early and few people were inside. Sliding into the seat, she almost laughed as her skirt rode up her thighs from friction, exposing the tops of her thigh-highs.

She fingered the thin lace and bit her lower lip. What if everyone in the courtroom knew she was wearing a silk thong and stockings? Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wander to the events of the night before. The BDSM club was new in town, considered hot and very exclusive. The invitation had been a scintillating surprise, a gift from one of her previous clients. She’d tossed the gilded envelope in a drawer, rejecting the offer for almost two weeks.

Joelle was the good girl, the one who had made straight As in high school and all through college and law school. She was the best friend, tutor, mentor and big sister. She was the one who followed every rule. Everyone thought of her as the girl next door, who never, ever had kinky thoughts. She’d stymied the vixen most of her life. Only two years before had she succumbed to her burning desires, frequenting several clubs in the seediest part of downtown Baltimore.

Experimentation had turned into dark cravings until the nights became days and she’d made a choice—her career or BDSM. The need for money, clothes, an expensive car and a condominium won out in the end. A girl had to eat. What a shame.

No one had any idea about the woman inside. The search for the perfect man had gone nowhere. What man could handle such complexity? She licked her ruby stained lips as she thought about the last date she’d been on. How long had it been? Oh yes, almost three years. No man held the muster, a perfect specimen of masculinity and dominance.

When the invitation had arrived, she knew she’d received a sign. However, accepting the sign had taken courage. The memory held mixed feelings. She’d gulped down a full glass of wine, held her breath and ripped open the envelope with flair. What she couldn’t understand is how had her client, a woman who fashioned herself a Domme, seen through her thick layers of bullshit to the girl locked inside a cage? On that very night and after two additional glasses of wine, she’d accepted the invite, happy as could be. After second guessing herself, she’d cowered in front of the television watching a documentary on The History Channel. Yeah, she had balls of mush.

The night at the club had been cathartic. Freeing. She couldn’t wait to return, even considering paying the one thousand dollar joining fee. She could afford a little luxury. She could even learn to be more careful in her methods of playtime, remaining in the shadows.

Why the hell did she care? What occurred in her private life was nobody else’s business. She was an adult, a very hungry adult and allowed to play. Then again, no one, not even her best friend knew about her penchant for pain, her desire to submit to a dominant man.

Meticulously she laid out her things, preferring an iPad to traditional pen and paper. This case wasn’t going to be easy, but she was prepared, well almost. The night before had been delicious, the event going well into the night. She snickered as she envisioned the neon lights, the pulsing music and the elongated bar. The dark and foreboding club was designed for anonymity as well as security. Anyone could be exactly who they desired to be.

She checked her watch—ten minutes to spare. After court she was going to dinner with friends, then back to the club. Whether or not she’d decide to join depended on the events of the night. A bit of show and tell was in order, complete with aspects of flogging. She tingled at the thought. Perhaps she’d run into Marco again. The stud muffin had shown her the ropes, literally. She giggled and eased her hand into her shirt, fingering the top of her push-up bra, remembering the delicious details.

“Welcome to Club Noir,” the man whispered, his face hidden behind a mask. “I’m Marco, very much at your service.”

Joelle eyed the tall drink of water and nodded. “Thank you. I’m Jewel.” She certainly wasn’t going to give him her real name.

“Jewel. A beautiful gem to be kept precious. I’m honored. I know that you’re new to our club. If you’d like, I’d be happy to show you around.”

As he held out his arm, she inhaled. His exotic scent was unrecognizable, the fragrance intoxicating just like the man. Tall and broad shouldered, his muscles were carved, his body long and lean. “I’d enjoy that.” Accepting his gesture, she clung to him as he walked her through the crowded space.

“Club Noir specializes in all aspects of BDSM. We cater to our customers, indulging them in their greatest fantasy. Tell me, sweet Jewel, do you have a particular desire, a bold hunger for aspects of kink?”

“I’m not certain.” Memories of other clubs crowded her mind. Her dreams were filled with yearning for domination as well as discipline.

“Ah, I understand. You may try almost anything you can imagine, from pain to pleasure. You are a submissive, yes?” Marco asked as he led her toward a series of closed off rooms.

Joelle could feel the heat rising from the base of her neck. “How did you know?”

He stopped and took both of her hands into his. “I’m good at what I do, Jewel. I advise, provide education and assistance for novices in every aspect. Come. Allow me to show you a spanking demonstration. This will be an excellent start in your journey.”

Journey. She’d never thought of her particular proclivities as a journey, but she accepted the word. “Yes.” Spanking. She shivered, her pussy clenching. How many nights had she lain awake craving a firm hand, a man controlling her, providing harsh discipline. Her mouth watered at the thought.

“Ms. Parker. Are you ready to present your case?”

Everyone has a dirty little secret. Everyone.

“Ms. Parker. Are you with us today?”

Jolted, Joelle shook the vivid images from her mind and blinked. The man’s brusque voice reverberated in her ears. “What?” Titters and coughs floated from behind her. She jerked her head toward the sound of the voice and grimaced. How in God’s name had she missed the judge’s entrance, standing out of respect?

This was the third time she’d been caught daydreaming in the last week. She needed a vacation. Get it together. You’re a professional. “I’m sorry, Judge Thompson. I’m more than ready to present.”

Judge Thompson narrowed his eyes and frowned as he leaned over the bench. “Are you certain or would you like a recess before we begin?”

She kept her curt smile, resisting giving the man of honor her finger. Some honorable judge he was. This was a murder case and already there were bets on the fact the criminal would never see a prison term. “No more than you, Judge.” Now there were gasps coming from the courtroom. Everyone knew she was a take-no-shit kind of prosecutor, but to continually push the judge’s buttons certainly wasn’t in her best interest.

His expression blank, his mouth thin lipped, he nodded. “Then by all means get on with it.”

Rising to her feet, Joelle pressed the flats of her hands down her skirt and eased from around the desk. She faced the jury, giving them her sweetest smile. They already didn’t like her. Half believed in the innocence of the man standing trial. The other half wanted to lynch him. All twelve had already determined that she was a bitch. She could see it in their eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for being here. Today I’m going to prove to you that Ronald Taylor is responsible for the death of Tracy Riley. In fact, I’m going to prove to you that he strangled her with his hands and a rope in her bedroom on the night of October twenty-sixth, two thousand sixteen. The facts will state that Mr. Taylor entered the home of the deceased with full intention of raping and murdering her. The crime itself is heinous in nature and through photographs and the evidence collected, I’ll be able to prove my case.”

Joelle paused, making eye contact with every member. They were of mixed ages, race, and sex, and she suspected sexual orientation. She and the defense team had gone through over two hundred people before twelve and an alternate could be equally decided upon. Long hours were the norm.

There wasn’t a word said or a breath sound given. Everyone was listening to her intently. She moved back toward the table where Ronald sat with his three male attorneys. Eyes darted back and forth, sweeping the room, and two of the attorneys were writing furiously. Ronald was demure in his actions, looking more like a boy scout than a calculated cold-blooded killer. Only the lead attorney seemed to dare look her in the eyes, a smirk riding his carved face.

She could oh-so eat the man for breakfast. They’d sparred on more than one occasion. Gregory Brentwood was her absolute nemesis and a man she could strangle on any given day. Today, she winked and swished her hips.

“I’m going to prove to you that this man had motive, opportunity and a plan he’d developed for killing Ms. Riley weeks before.” She walked past the judge, giving him a respectful nod then turned to face Ronald, moving to the edge of the defense table. “Brutal. Bloody. Torture.” Her nipples hardened when she enunciated the three words. They had the desired effect.

Everyone was hooked, waiting for her next spoken words. They would wait. She certainly wasn’t going to tip her hand. Not now. Not ever.

Exhaling, she slowly walked back to her chair, sitting down with the poise of a ballerina, and folded her hands. You bet Greggie baby was confused as fuck. This wasn’t her normal method of operation. Maybe a night at the club had brought out the wanton woman.

“Thank you, Ms. Parker. Mr. Brentwood. Are you ready to proceed?” Judge Thompson asked after giving her a curious look.

Joelle heard papers being shifted. She didn’t bother looking toward Gregory or his team. She didn’t care what they were going to use as a defense. She only cared about the subtle but powerful facts. Today was her day to shine.

“Thank you, your honor. I am more than ready to provide proof that Mr. Ronald Taylor is a true victim, a creation of society and the internet.” Gregory walked past her without as much as a look. He believed himself to be a powerful man.

Power. Joelle craved power in all aspects of her career. Being an assistant prosecutor had been a fascinating switch from working in corporation law and a stretch of her expertise. Baltimore had many commanding women in charge, but in the manner of the law, the old boys’ club still reigned. She sat back in her seat, swiveling her chair so that she could cross her legs. Dressed conservatively, a blue suit and crisp white men’s style shirt, her hair woven tightly in a bun, only her nine hundred dollar Manolo Blahnik stilettos offered a chance of showing the woman hidden behind the mask. Her thoughts drifted back to the incredible experience.

Marco was certainly sexy, alluding an air of prowess, yet he was neither dominant or submissive. Still, she wouldn’t mind having him as her disciplinarian. She eased her pen to her lips, placing the tip just inside. The vivid image of the man standing with his legs apart, his arms folded and her between his legs sucking his cock flashed in her mind.

She would run her hands up on the insides of his thighs, caressing as he wrapped his fingers in her hair, the gesture keeping her in place. When allowed, she would wrap one hand around his swollen testicles and the other around the base of his cock. As he commanded her to open her mouth, she’d moan in anticipation, delighting in her requirements. If she was a very good girl, drinking every last drop of his sweet cum, perhaps he’d tie her to an “X” cross, spanking her ass and legs until they were covered in welts.

“Ms. Parker!”

Joelle jumped and dropped the pen. “Sir? I mean, your Honor?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“I asked you if you’d like to cross examine the witness,” Judge Thompson stated through clenched teeth.

Cross examination? What the hell? “I’m sorry, your honor I need to…” Her words trailed off as she fumbled to figure out where they were in the case. The girl on the stand she didn’t recognize at first. She was so fucked.

“Please approach the bench.” The judge waved her forward.

Holding her breath, Joelle rose to her feet and attempted to walk in a manner that would allow her to keep her dignity. She heard a slight chuckle coming from Gregory’s mouth and she wanted to turn around and rip out his eyes. That would be sensational news at five o ‘clock. When she approached the bench, she smiled. “Your Honor?”

Judge Thompson covered up the microphone and leaned over as far as he could. “Ms. Parker. I’ve had you in my courtroom a dozen times and I’ve never seen you so absent from your duties. Is there a problem? Do you need some assistance?”

“No! I mean, no, Your Honor. I apologize. I was merely going through details of the case and lost track of time. That won’t happen again.” Lying to a judge now. Perfect. She was on the fast track to being thrown out in the street.

He raised a single eyebrow and exhaled. Ten full seconds ticked by. “Very well, but see that it doesn’t or I’ll have to hold you in contempt of court. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir! I mean Your Honor, sir.” She cringed and slunk back toward the chair, able to see the delighted expression on Gregory’s face. As she sat down, she banished the sinful thoughts to another planet. She was going to have to learn to separate the two worlds one way or the other.

At three-thirty pm on the nose, Judge Thompson called the day. Weary from the brow beating, some of her own making, Joelle shoved the iPad and pen into her briefcase, fiddling in a hope that Gregory would leave first.

He didn’t. Instead, he waited for her, standing by the defense table with his arms crossed, his eyes twinkling. “Not on your game today?”

“I’m doing just fine, thank you very much,” Joelle retorted and walked past him.

“This case is out of your league.”

While she knew the man was considered on the fast track to move into politics, she didn’t give a damn. Gregory was a bottom feeder, preying on lost souls. He had no remorse for his tactics nor did he have a conscience. She stopped short and turned. “Just try me, big boy. You might be surprised.” The words were dripping with sarcasm, almost said in a purr instead of her voice. Without waiting for a reply, she headed out of the courtroom.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The Press were camped out on the courtroom steps. Vans from the various news stations were everywhere. She froze and shifted toward the left side, praying she could find a way to slink through without being detected. She loathed reporters, hated this part of her job. She simply didn’t like recognition of any type.

The crowd was huge and even though she stood taller than most of the women and men present, she wasn’t able to tell what was happening. This was her chance to skedaddle out of dodge. She clutched her briefcase and lowered her head. Suddenly the group of reporters rushed the stairs at the opposite end, heading in her direction.

No, this wasn’t going to happen. Swallowing hard, she raced down the stairs, thankful she didn’t kill herself in the four-inch heels. When she was a solid half block down the sidewalk, she turned to see if any of them had followed her. She chuckled. “Way to go, idiots.” The reporters had no desire to talk to a prosecutor with a dirty secret. They’d found some other poor, dumb fool to prey on. She laughed all the way to her car.

* * *

Randolph Mitchell, Craze to his friends, faced the near mob like group as he always did, with ease. He’d been in front of cameras his entire life and knew the reporters were merely doing their jobs. He plastered on his politician smile and waited as they jockeyed for position. He was due in court in less than thirty minutes for nothing more than a continuation. He could afford to spend time preening in front of the camera. His assistant would be proud given Mark continued to chide him on his public appearances.

“Mr. Mitchell, is it true that you have your eyes set on the White House?”

Randolph gazed down at the diminutive female reporter and slid into his charming mode. “Ms. Tanner, let’s not get the cart before the horse. I’m considering a run for Congress, but I haven’t made up my mind as of yet.” He made it a point to learn as much as he could about the influential reporters in town. They could make or break a career or a candidacy.

“When are you going to announce your decision?” the older male reporter asked, pushing his way in front of the gaggle.

“Mr. Wild, nice to see you again. I anticipate making my decision in the next three weeks. Trust me, you’ll be the first to know.” Randolph winked as the group laughed. He had them eating out of his hands.

“If you run, have you determined your platform? I know you worked hard to defend those who otherwise would not be able to afford a top-notch attorney. Every step of your career has been about making certain criminals have their day in court. How will that affect your chances?” the blonde and blue-eyed girl was swooning.

He couldn’t help but glance at her cleavage. She would drop to her knees in an instant if he asked. Unfortunately, he was through with playtime with women who could be his daughter. Besides, he appreciated intelligent conversations, spirited if at all possible. “Ms. Jones. Everyone who knows me understands that I care about what happens to the good people of Baltimore as a whole. Defending innocent people remains important to me and always will. My platform will simply be that the city and the state needs to be able to place their trust in someone, a man of honor.”

The words resonated throughout the crowd. Randolph made certain he looked into the eyes of everyone who was close. He could tell they believed him, even adored the sentiment. If they only knew about the man underneath the expensive suits and polished shoes. His persona had been groomed since he was a boy, his parents raising what they considered the perfect child. He snickered at the thought.

A few claps could be heard coming from the back. “I have time for one more question,” Randolph stated, his baritone voice cutting through the traffic below him.

A young male reporter, one Randolph had never seen before, held his hand higher than the rest. Randolph pointed in his direction. Every kid needed a start in the business. “Yes, sir. And you are?”

“Michael Trent with the Baltimore Sun.”

“Well, Michael, what is your question?”

“Do you have any skeletons in your closet?” Michael was expressionless, but his eyes were dark, almost ominous.

A single bead of sweat trickled down the back of Randolph’s neck. He cocked his head and chuckled. “Doesn’t everyone?” With the vague answer, the crowd laughed with him. However, Michael wasn’t smiling. In fact, he held an expression that said in no uncertain terms he had dirt on Randolph, a scandalous tale that Michael would use to his benefit at the worst possible time during Randolph’s political run for office.

And there was certainly enough scandal to ignite the Press.

“Thank you all for coming. I’m due in court. Have a wonderful evening.” Randolph shook the required amount of hands before entering the courtroom. Only then did he hiss under his breath. He’d have to find out what, or if, the young man had any dirt on him as well as Michael’s intentions of using the information.

* * *

Randolph took long strides down the hallway and into his office. The continuation had taken a mere ten minutes so he was back in the building before five. As he walked past his assistant, he nodded toward his office. He dumped his briefcase on the desk and went straight to his mini-bar. He loathed sparring with reporters that he didn’t know. They always had a hidden agenda.

Mark hurried into Randolph’s office. “You look pissed.”

“Close the door. I have something for you to do.” He plopped two ice cubes in a glass and poured a half glass of whiskey.

After shutting the door, Mark advanced. “Let me guess, the continuation didn’t happen.”

“Oh no. The case has been pushed back as I knew it would be. That’s not the problem.” Randolph took a swig of the liquor, savoring the flavor, before turning to face Mark. “Do you know the name Michael Trent?”

“Never heard of him. Why?”

“He’s a reporter from the Sun. Find out everything you can about him. I think we may have a digger on our hands.”

“A digger?” Mark asked as he frowned.

“As in digging into my life, my past.”

“Oh. Fantastic. I assume that means you want him shut down.”

Randolph rubbed his eyes. “I can’t shut him down. Every reporter in town will want to know why. I do want to know everything about this kid, including where he goes to eat breakfast and the woman or man he fucks. Everything. I need to know what I’m facing.”

Mark inched closer. “May I ask you what you’re worried about?”

While his assistant was completely trustworthy and a man who kept his confidences, Mark didn’t know details about his extra-curricular activities. No one did and he refused to allow anyone into his private life. “We all have secrets, some dirtier than others.”

“Anything I should know about?”

“Nothing that matters and shouldn’t to anyone, but I daresay if Mr. Trent is out to find dirt, he’ll stop at nothing to do so. Just find out what you can.”

“Of course. I’ll get started right away.” Mark turned to leave.

“Mark, I don’t mean tonight. I might be a tough taskmaster, but I’m not a slave driver. Go home. This can wait until the morning.”

“Are you certain? I’m here for you every step of the way.”

Randolph lifted his glass. “Go have a drink. Enjoy friends and family. You deserve it.”

Smiling, Mark nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He backed away toward the door. “I don’t care what anyone says about you. You’re not a tyrant.”

“Get out of here!” He laughed and shook his head. Hell yes, he was a tyrant. No wonder he’d never been able to find the right woman. Few women could handle his attitude, his intense needs and his dark requirements. As far as family? He wasn’t into afternoon cookouts and holiday get togethers. He preferred his time alone.

After Mark left, he gulped the rest of his drink and made another. Tonight, he had no appointments, either for business or pleasure. He was a free man. Huffing, he sat down at his desk and clicked on the internet. He opened the Sun Times website and searched through their files. There was one article written by Michael Trent, an article on a new corporation coming to town. The rather benign article shouldn’t have afforded the reporter time with a political candidate.

He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes. What would the young man want from him? Then again, what could he find? Randolph had spent his entire life under the microscope. His father, a retired Senator from the state of Ohio, had made certain his son was educated at the most exclusive schools, receiving the best education money could buy. Randolph was used to the finer things in life: wine, clothes, cars and even women.

He was also absolutely freaking bored to death. However, he was a picture-perfect candidate for office—at least on the surface.

If anyone found out what lay hidden under the mask, his career in politics would be over. He swirled the whiskey and grinned. No one was going to uncover his secrets, no matter what he had to do.

Not even one tenacious reporter.

Chapter 2

“Jury, have you reached a verdict?” Judge Thompson asked after reading the folded card.

Joelle was unable to tell anything given the man’s masked expression. She’d remained on task, leaving the club behind and working late into the night the entire week. She was surprised as well as terrified that the verdict had come in so quickly. A quick glance to her opponents and she knew they anticipated victory. She turned her head toward the jury and sighed.

“We have, your Honor,” the foreman stated as he stood.

“What say you?”

“In the matter of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant, guilty.”

The entire courtroom erupted.

“Murderer!”

“Fry, you bastard. Fry!”

Relief swept through her. She was surprised the guilty verdict had been rendered. There was more than enough reasonable doubt, even in her mind and after all the evidence she’d shown. This was a win for her office as well as her career. Now maybe her boss would stop breathing down her neck. She exhaled and gave herself a mental high-five.

“What happened? I don’t understand,” Ronald whined.

“Don’t worry, buddy. This isn’t over yet,” Gregory stated, his words laced with venom.

She kept her expression blank and refused eye contact with anyone. However, she knew Ronald was absolutely shell shocked. He’d been convinced he would get off on the charges. Nothing to worry about, buddy. We’ll get you off. She could just hear Gregory’s arrogance oozing out of his mouth. Of course, there would be an appeal, an expected practice, but by then she’d be refreshed, a new woman.

“You really did a number on this poor guy. You think you’re something special, don’t you?” Gregory hissed.

Joelle bit her tongue to keep from laughing.

“Jesus. I hope you sleep well tonight.”

She shoved her things into her bag and slowly lifted her head. “Don’t be a sore loser, Greg darling. Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.” But you better get used to it.

“You’re such a bitch,” Gregory said under his breath.

“What did you say? I didn’t hear you.”

He crowded her space, his eyes full of venom. “You heard me. You watch your back. I know your kind and your tactics. I’ll find out everything I can to take you down. Trust me.”

Joelle was used to threats. They were a part of her job, however Gregory’s tone and body language suggested a true vendetta. “Give it your best shot. I have nothing to hide.”

His old swagger returned, his smile showing off his pearly whites. “Making an enemy out of me isn’t a good idea.”

“You don’t scare me, Gregory and I’m not your enemy. I’m merely doing my job. Ronald was found guilty by his peers, not me.” She stood with her feet apart, her shoulders squared. Damn, the man wasn’t going to get to her. Sure, she’d pushed aside his forward advances almost two years before. He’d held a grudge ever since.

“You taint everything you touch. Everything.”

Taint? She was far too tired to continue playing games. “Have a good night, Gregory.”

Smiling, Gregory looked around the room before lowering his head, whispering in a husky tone. “I know you, Joelle. I know what you’re capable of as well as what you crave. You may think you’re top dog in the courtroom, but I have the winning hand.”

“Why does my winning this case matter so much to you?”

“Losing isn’t what I do.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You mean you’re running against an opponent that terrifies you. Your record must be stellar or there’s no chance of winning in the political arena. Am I getting warm?”

His upper lip curled and he looked away briefly. “Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

“We shall see.” Blowing him a kiss, she grabbed her things and sashayed out the door. As soon as she did, she rushed toward the entrance to the building. Why were his words troubling? Sure, the truth regarding their brief interlude remained a rather disgusting moment in her life. His proposition to her had been about hardcore sex in his office with a twist. Gregory wanted her to be the aggressor, even using a strap on. He’d run into her at a popular kink club. Not her finest hour and perhaps the real reason she’d never returned to the previous clubs.

She shuddered at the thought. Her simple ‘no’ had turned the entire limited friendship into animosity, making them bitter enemies. The poor guy was concerned that she’d tell someone about his kinky desires. Tit for tat. As she eased into her car, she half smiled. Perhaps she’d hold the strap-on card in the back of her mind, just in case things got nasty. The rumor mill had been rampant about Gregory’s desire to run for public office. She pitied anyone in his district.

As she headed back to the office, she glanced into her rearview mirror several times, half expecting to see Gregory’s Mercedes in hot pursuit. She was exhausted. Tonight was for sliding into her jammies, cracking open a bottle of wine and eating cold spaghetti in front of the television. Then she was going to ask for some time off. The last three cases had taken a toll, eating into her private time. The club was the single night in several months that she’d let go, freeing herself of the forced bondage called professionalism.

Who was she kidding? The club wasn’t her style. She rarely went to clubs when she was in college. Finding what she needed wasn’t going to happen while being spanked on a cross. She rolled her eyes as she walked into the foyer of the office. She hadn’t gone three feet down the hallway when the world’s best assistant stuck her head out of the copy room.

“Sam is looking for you. I think his quote was ‘get her ass in my office the moment she gets in or you won’t have a job tomorrow’. Yeah, that sounds about right.” The redhead gave her a wry smile and placed one hand on her hip.

“Hello to you too, Betsy. Sam’s in that bad of a mood?” Joelle slid next to the wall, collecting her thoughts.

“Lately it’s been tough to tell. He’s perpetually cranky. If you ask me, I think the man needs to get laid,” Betsy said under her breath.

“Betsy! I know exactly why I adore you.”

Betsy winked. “Congrats. I heard you did a fantastic job.”

Joelle glanced at her watch. “The verdict was read like twenty minutes ago. How can you know?”

“You have to be kidding me. Spies, darling. Spies.” Winking, Betsy waved her off.

Sighing, she had no doubt Sam was going to chastise her for her performance in the courtroom. Sam Shepherd was old school, believing in black and white of the law without any variation or consideration of gray. He’d consider her method of winning the case hot-dogging. So what? She’d won the case.

She tossed her things into her office, smoothed back her hair and took long strides toward Sam’s office. Why did she hesitate before knocking on the door?

“Come in, Ms. Parker.”

She opened the door and tilted her head. “How did you know it was me given you have no windows to the hallway?”

He didn’t look up from his computer. “Your perfume announces you everywhere you go.”

Her perfume? Joelle resisted sniffing her wrists. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“Do you enjoy working here?”

“I’m sorry?” Joelle inched closer.

Sam lifted his head. “I asked if you enjoyed working here.”

“Absolutely.” Goose bumps popped along every inch of naked skin. Perhaps her comments to the judge were the reason for this inquiry.

He looked her up and down then rose to his feet. “I’m glad to hear that because I’m giving you a promotion.”

You’re on suspension. She shook her head. “What did you say?”

Smiling, he eased from around the desk and toward the set of love seats at the far end of the room. In his hand was a thick file folder. “Come and sit with me.”

She did as she was told, but remained on edge. There had to be a catch.

“Joelle, you do a wonderful job. What you never seemed to have was the verve to grab a case by the balls and run with your gut. I saw that in you during the Taylor case. You single handedly made Gregory Brentwood sweat, which is a rare feat. I’m very proud of you.”

Opening her eyes wide, she couldn’t help but grin. “Thank you, sir. I enjoyed going head to head with him.”

“Excellent. You are now lead prosecutor. With the title comes an increase, but also additional work. I know you and your work ethic. You’ll do well.”

“Sam, thank you so much, but I really need to take a few days off.”

“Unfortunately, it’s going to have to wait. I hate to do this to you after your win, but I need you to handle a particular case with kid gloves. I trust you’ll do so.” Sam slid the folder across the coffee table. “You’ll find everything you need in here. There are a few files on the network as well. Just ask Betsy to get them for you. You’ll need to get up to speed quickly given this case will go to trial within a couple of weeks.”

“I’m flattered, but isn’t there someone else?” Joelle was thrilled. This was the pinnacle of her career. From here she could go to almost any city in the country and work.

“No can do. You’re the only one who can handle this.”

“What is the case?”

Sam locked eyes with her. “The Martin murders.”

Stunned, she had no idea what to say. The accused had allegedly murdered three people, the scene of each crime so horrific that every officer on the scene had tossed their cookies. “Wow.”

“Go on, get out of here. You certainly can enjoy a night off. Tomorrow, the real work begins.”

Joelle groaned. So much for jetting off to the Caribbean or finding the perfect Dom.

* * *

Craze walked into the office and immediately the entire administrative team stopped what they were doing to watch him walk down the hall. He chuckled, seeing their expressions. “Good morning, team. How is everyone today?”

“Fine, sir.”

“Fantastic.”

“Looking hot, I mean really nice, sir.”

He kept a smile on his face as he walked down the hallway. They weren’t used to seeing him in anything but a suit and tie. The black jeans and turquoise shirt were more his style, one he kept for the few who knew him outside of the day-to-day drudgery. Whistling, he strutted into his office and sat down behind his desk, flipping on the computer.

Mark walked into the doorway, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorjamb. “Okay, I think I might have to call 911 for assistance.”

“And why would that be?”

“At least three of the women out there are having trouble breathing.”

“Should I offer my personal assistance?” Craze asked, then winked.

“Dear God, please don’t even consider it, boss. We don’t need any lawsuits on our hands, even if you are the best-looking lawman in town.” Mark snorted as he eased inside. “You’re in a good mood. Dare I ask why?”

Craze shrugged and swiveled his chair, glancing out the window. “It’s a gorgeous day. Why shouldn’t I be in a good mood?” When Mark remained quiet, he tipped his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Why does there have to be anything wrong?”

“Because I know you, remember?” He noticed Mark had a folder in his hands and a pensive look on his face. “Spill it.”

He walked to the desk and eased the folder down onto Craze’s desk. “Okay, but don’t shoot the messenger.”

Craze didn’t have to look inside to know what he was going to find. “Let me guess, the information on Michael Trent will ruin my day.”

“Not ruin, but certainly give you pause. The reporter doesn’t have much in the way of stories, but he does have connections.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Who should I be terrified of?” Craze opened the folder and scanned the few pages. One was the same article he’d read. Another was a basic resume printed off Indeed. The third was a list of names. The third page he held up into the light, reading the information over twice. He wasn’t a fearful man and certainly refused to be blackmailed by anyone. Whether or not the kid had it in him, time would tell. “Interesting.” There were certain people even Craze didn’t want to tangle with.

“I thought you’d have more of a reaction.”

“Why? Because his father is connected? Because he was hand-picked for the job, no matter that he has few credentials?” Craze closed the folder, shoving it out of his way.

“Well, yes,” Mark said as he narrowed his eyes. “If you announce, don’t you think Michael is going to pounce?”

“And tell the world what? That I’m formidable in the courtroom? That I use somewhat creative tactics in order to win friends and influence people? Hogwash!”

Mark remained quiet. “Look, this is none of my business other than I care about you as a person. You’re a good man, an honorable man.”

“But what, Mark? What?” His assistant knew enough about his past to either be an asset or a person who could endanger his political career. Either way, he wasn’t going to rush to judgment or worry just yet.

He held up his hands and took two steps back. “Okay. I just wanted to give you the information you asked for.”

“I appreciate it.” Craze leaned back in his chair.

Mark remained where he was.

“What else, Mark?”

“Nothing. Except, have you decided if you’re going to announce?”

“I said three weeks, not three days.” Flipping off the computer, he rose to his feet. “I’m taking the rest of the day off. If anything happens, you can reach me by phone, but don’t unless it’s an emergency.” He needed to clear his head, rid his mind of the ugly cobwebs that had been forming the last few days.

“Really? You never take time off.”

“Exactly, which is why I’m doing so now.” He grabbed the file and walked toward the door. No one was going to pressure him into or out of anything. Period.

After shoving the file into his satchel, he jerked the helmet from the back of the Harley and jumped on the bike. A long ride followed by a night spent with a dazzling lady would ease his discontent.

Kicking up the stand, he secured the helmet and turned the key. Revving the engine, he roared out of the parking lot, leaving Randolph Mitchell behind. For a few hours he’d become the man he enjoyed—also the man he feared.

* * *

At precisely nine that night, Craze walked into the lobby of Carsen Towers, the poshest address in Baltimore. He acknowledged the man sitting behind the marble desk and advanced, heading for the elevator. He’d been here before on numerous occasions, although his heavy case load had kept him from indulging for almost three months. He needed companionship, an evening spent with a woman who understood his needs.

As he strode into the empty elevator, pressing the button for the top floor, he reflected on their on-again off-again relationship. Anastasia was beautiful, aristocratic and a formidable woman. She also kept her mouth shut, an important attribute in a city where any indiscretions were exposed with dogged flair. She had a life of her own, complete with influential friends. This was their dirty secret.

He’d never been in love and wasn’t with Anastasia. Neither wanted connections other than casual, yet they enjoyed their time together. His family had realized years before he’d never marry or have children. They’d accepted the fact after several attempts at goading him into wanting the white picket fence scenario. He wasn’t the type. Never would be.

When the elevator pinged, he smiled and walked to the end of the hallway. There was no one to see him come and go. There never was. She answered after a single knock.

“Good to see you,” Anastasia purred as she took a step back, allowing him inside.

“Thank you for taking my call,” he answered and closed the door. As his eyes swept the expansive room, he marveled at the fact her condo never changed. Everything was always in order, fresh flowers on several tables, up to the minute magazines positioned just so. She had little in the way of adornment. There were no pictures of family and not a single plant lived within the dwelling. She used the condo as a playhouse, nothing more. Her real life was spent traveling, hosting charity events. He didn’t ask questions or request details. He simply didn’t care.

“You make our arrangement sound so clinical, my dear sir.” She glided toward the neon infused glass bar. She didn’t ask what he’d like nor did he have to tell her.

“We are as we need to be.” He studied her form. She was exquisite with long legs and a slender, yet muscular body. Her raven hair was always precisely styled, not a hair out of place. She wore a simple white silk sheath, the transparent gown accentuating her rosy nipples and the dark pubic hair trimmed neatly between her legs. Her skin was radiant, almost glowing in the dim lighting.

She shot him a coy look as she filled the glasses. “Reflective today I see, sir.”

“Always.” He stood where he was. She knew her place and seemed to enjoy catering to his every need. The arrangement wasn’t about sex. He wasn’t interested in the intense connection. This was about satisfying his dark craving.

She glided toward him, her eyes never leaving his. “Here you are. Just as you like, sir.”

Craze accepted the drink, taking a sip and walking toward the bank of floor to ceiling windows. The view was incredible, allowing him to see across the entire city. He sipped on the scotch as he considered his future.

She appeared behind, sliding her hand up his back and cupping his shoulder, massaging. “You’re tense.”

“Work. Decisions.”

“A man of few words. This evening will ease your pain.”

He studied her features in the reflection. While he longed to feel anything other than need, he was cold, his emotions shelved many years before. They stood silently, gazing out at the twinkling lights of the city, perhaps both longing for a different time or place.

She ran her hand down to cup his crotch, rubbing as she smiled. “You’re in need, sir.”

Craze turned and lowered one side of her gown, pinching her nipple. “And you’re incorrigible.”

“Always.”

Before he’d finished his drink, she’d disappeared, going to their special room.

Swirling the ice, he took his last sip, turning and placing the tumbler on the glass coffee table. As he walked toward the long hallway, he rolled up his sleeves. Tonight he would be brutal, the act defying the intense cravings. He needed to keep control in his professional life. Sessions with Anastasia always helped. As he walked into the room, he inhaled the rich scent of vanilla. Her favorite.

Anastasia stood in the center of the room. Completely naked, she had her head lowered, her arms in front of her. She was awaiting his command.

He walked in a wide arc around her, glancing down at her porcelain skin. She was unmarred, her flesh perfect in every way. His cock ached, throbbing against his tight jeans. He remained silent as he eyed the table in the far corner of the room. She’d selected his favorite implements; whips and floggers, canes of exotic woods. She knew his tastes well.

As he took her hand, intertwining their fingers, he heard her ragged breathing. She wasn’t afraid, merely apprehensive of his selection and the amount of strikes he would deem necessary. He led her to the cross, the steel gleaming in the soft lighting. She’d purchased the piece from a vendor almost two years before upon his direction. His requirement.

Metal clanged against metal as he secured her wrists and ankles. The sound was delicious, sending tingles skating down his spine. He moved her hair to behind her shoulder, smoothing the long strands against her back. He wanted to see her face, the way her eyes shifted as the moment drew closer.

He considered his every move as he walked closer to the implements, his mind reeling with possibilities. With each step he became the man he’d always known himself to be, sadistic, hungry to inflict pain. He placed the tips of his fingers on each piece, caressing as he inhaled the scent of the rich woods, the firm leather. After consideration, he wrapped his hand around the quirt, perhaps his favorite whip.

As he moved toward her, he ran the single strand through his fingers. The well-worn piece had been used before, but on rare occasions. He took his position behind her, running his fingers down her spine.

Moaning, Anastasia wiggled in her bindings and closed her eyes.

“Tonight, I’m going to hurt you.”

“Yes, sir. Please.”

A smile crossed Craze’s face as he took two strides back.

Crack!

The tip sliced across her buttocks, instantly creating a red welt.

“Oh!”

He didn’t stop with her cries of anguish, knowing they’d soon turn into exclamations of pleasure. She was a true pain slut, preferring the hard strike of a whip to the soft aspects of romance.

Pop! Crack!

A quiver eased down the back of his legs as adrenaline kicked in. He licked his lips and admired his work.

Whoosh! Slap! Crack!

The leather strand issued crisscrossing marks across her lower back.

Slap! Pop!

The next set added beautiful marks on her upper thighs.

“Ah…yes.” Saliva slipped from her lips.

In that moment, he considered her the most beautiful woman on the earth.

Snap! Smack! Crack!

He issued whip after whip, his hand controlled after years of practice. Her skin would mark, but heal within days. The session would remain in her mind for weeks, allowing her the peace she craved above all things.

Inhaling, Craze held his breath and eased the palm of his hand down the length of her back. She shifted and moaned, her whimpers becoming purrs. After running his fingers through his hair, he held out his arm, surprised his hand was shaking. He clenched his fist, anger furrowing inside. This wasn’t his usual experience. He was always exhilarated by the sessions, exalted into his own euphoria. Now? He was cold, uncaring.

No, he would continue. This was a calming source.

Crack! Slap! Pop! Crack!

“Oh!” Jerking back from her metal bindings, her eyes flew open, true agony riding her face. Panting, she eased her head against the cold steel as beads of perspiration trickled down the side of her face.

He blinked in an effort to maintain his focus, yet he had difficulty seeing clearly. Swallowing, he controlled his breathing before striking again. After two more, he shook his head, walked to the table dropping the implement and untying her.

“Is something wrong, sir?” she asked, as he fumbled with her bindings.

“Nothing is wrong.”

“But you stopped, sir.”

“Yes.” He wasn’t going to say anymore.

When she was free, she grabbed a robe positioned on the single chair in the room, placing the material over her shoulders.

“Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I not please you tonight, sir?”

Craze kissed the top of her head as he gripped her shoulders. “You always please me.”

“Then why stop?”

The question remained in the front of his mind, the answer on the tip of his tongue. He could tell in her eyes she was aware of what was happening. “Because it’s time.”

She tied the sash and turned to face him, a knowing look on her face. “I understand.” Rising onto her tiptoes, she kissed his lips. “You are an amazing man; you just don’t seem to understand that. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

He remained stiff, uncertain of her intentions. When she moved away, walking toward the table, he exhaled and headed for the door. He wasn’t an amazing man. He was a monster.

This was his last session with her. He no longer wanted or needed a method of allowing the beast to bridge the surface. He wanted more, much more.

As he left the building, his thoughts rushed to his favorite scripture.

Judge not lest ye be judged…

Chapter 3

Domination. Pain. Pleasure.

The words continued to run through her mind. As Joelle pulled into the parking lot, she dropped her head to the steering wheel. She’d been working fourteen-hour days on the case. There was no way she’d be ready in time. When she slept, her dreams were filled with a masked, but very sexy man who dominated her, taking her to new heights of ecstasy. She had no idea why she continued to have the same images, but they were making her crazy with desire.

She’d even tried self spanking one time, but the wooden hairbrush was difficult to manage and didn’t have the same effect as she’d longed for. Dream a little dream for me… She chuckled as she cut the engine. No dream was going to conjure up a rough and tumble and very powerful man. She wasn’t even certain there were any in Baltimore. They all seemed like stuffed shirts, parading around as attorneys or accountants.

She glanced into the rearview mirror, pouting her lips and touching up her lipstick. No, not a single male attorney could fit the bill. At least her best friend had convinced her to leave the dull world for a drink, or two. Or five. She deserved a few hours to herself.

As she sauntered into the restaurant, searching for Miranda, she shook away her kinky thoughts. This was all about girl time.

“About time you slipped out of the courtroom and into the real world.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Joelle cooed as she eased onto a tall stool.

“Uh-huh. Thought I was going to have to call in the cavalry. I ordered you a martini. Couldn’t wait,” Miranda said as she gave her BFF a dour look.

She cupped the base of her martini glass, crossed and re-crossed her legs, then gave her best friend Miranda a high saluting middle finger. “In my world, I’m all powerful.”

“In your world you eat, drink and sleep with criminals.”

Miranda’s laughter floated throughout the neon infused café, one they’d been frequenting for years. Unfortunately, the last time she’d been able to enjoy a night out with her girlfriend had been… Hell, she couldn’t even remember.

“Look girl, I’m only ribbing you because I love ya.” Winking, Miranda swirled her drink before taking a sip. She sat back and rested her elbow on the back of the bar stool, her eyes sweeping the perimeter. “There are some fine-looking men in here this evening.”

“I’m not looking, remember? I’m far too busy.”

“Honey, you know what?”

Joelle wasn’t certain she wanted to ask. “Should I be scared?”

“Absolutely. You need a hard fuck, one that will leave you panting, sweaty and begging for more. Throw in a hefty round of domination, a well-deserved spanking and I daresay you’ll be a new woman,” Miranda purred, each word louder than the one before.

The blip in the music was mortifying.

The way several men looked in their direction was terrifying.

The way her pussy clenched was delicious.

“I don’t need a man in my life,” Joelle insisted. “I simply need—”

“A hard fuck,” Miranda interrupted. “Rough sex always does a woman some good. You know that.”

“Rough sex.” Now goose bumps popped out over every inch of her exposed skin. As Joelle took another sip, she allowed a look around the crowded bar. Miranda was right. The men were hot as hell, but way too young for her. Then again, what could be terrible about fucking a twenty something year old? Everything. She sighed, her heart racing. There was no way she could taste a young blood. Her reputation was at stake. For a few seconds she closed her eyes, imagining being bound, her arms and legs open wide, displayed for the man who was going to use her, whip her. Fuck her. Shivers trickled down her spine.

“Earth to the prudish woman,” Miranda cooed as she tapped her fingers on top of the table.

“Prudish? Come on.” Joelle inhaled and hid behind her drink. Yet, she couldn’t help admiring the table full of very professionally dressed men. They no doubt shopped at Joseph A Banks, the fashionable, high dollar men’s clothing store, for all of their attire. Of course they drove a Lexus, one they were hiked to the hilt with by overextending their credit. They probably drank Corona Light, sipped on bourbon when in certain social situations, and they smoked the occasional cigar with their boss. In other words, they were boring. Useless in her mind. She needed a real man, one who didn’t mind getting dirty, filthy. Swallowing hard, a bead of perspiration slithered down the side of her face. Filthy. My, oh my, she would give anything for a hard fuck. Images of the dream floated into her mind. This was getting out of hand. She had to maintain focus. The promotion was everything she’d wanted. Kind of. She rolled her eyes. Second guessing wasn’t in her best interest.

“You don’t believe me?” Miranda asked as she kicked out her leg, sipped on her drink, and eyeballed the tall blond hunk closest to her.

Joelle loved the flirtatious girl, the one who could eat four men for breakfast without breaking a sweat. “I’ll have you know I’ve been known to throw down several times in my life.”

Lime green liquid spewed out Miranda’s mouth as she choked. She slapped a hand over her mouth and doubled over with laughter.

“What?” Joelle slid her cocktail napkin in Miranda’s direction. A nervous tick appeared in the corner of her mouth. Why were the men so curious about what they were talking about? Because they want to tease you, lick you, and force you to suck their cocks. They’re ready to push you down, shove their dicks into your holes like the whore you are. Why in the world was she thinking this way? She wiggled in her seat as the wafting and very telling scent of her intense desire floated up from her groin. Dear God. Now she was sweating.

Miranda fumbled to set down her glass, then wiped the liquid from her mouth and arm. “Throw down? Do you have any clue what you’re talking about at all? And, by the way, I doubt you’ve done anything to drag your ass out of the comfort zone.”

“I’ve done plenty!” Joelle scoffed.

“Okay, then answer these questions. Do you own a vibrator?”

“Several.” Take that.

“Have you used one of them any time in the last decade?” Miranda grinned as she leaned over the table.

When Joelle hesitated the look in Miranda’s eyes changed. She groaned and gulped the entire rest of her drink. You’re going to die old and very much alone.

“I thought so. You’re going home tonight and pull that puppy out of its hiding place. Make certain you have plenty of fresh batteries.”

“There are other things, wicked things I’ve done in my life.”

“Other things? Like going to a kink club? Like having a man dominate you, own you?” Miranda leaned in her direction.

The words weren’t said in jest. Joelle was shivering, but her body’s reaction had nothing to do with the wafting breeze in the club. She was tingling because she wanted nothing more than a bad boy to control her. “Well, some. Maybe.”

“Maybe. Jesus Christ, girl. You really need to get laid. Go over to that table and select one or three. They’ll show you a good time, fuck every hole and in the morning you’ll awaken with a smile on your face.”

“I can’t do that!” Joelle darted another look. The men were salivating. Could she?

“That’s what I thought. You’re fifty going on one hundred.”

“I’m…” How could she even defend herself? She hadn’t had a boyfriend in too many years, preferring to dive into her career versus deal with the emotions of a relationship. What had she achieved? A corner office, a sixty plus hour work week and nothing but time alone at home. Great. She was a pathetic failure.

“In need. That’s what you are. So go find a guy, fuck him silly and enjoy a single night.” Miranda finished her drink and checked her watch.

“Hot date?”

“Exactly. You should try it sometime. Might just rock your world.”

Joelle wrinkled her nose. “I thought this was girl’s night.”

“I didn’t expect Todd to call. He’s been hot and bothered all day. I decided he’s worth playing with.”

“At least someone is having fun.” Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to help the situation. Maybe after this case she’d consider dating.

“At least try a dating service.” Miranda’s eyes twinkled.

“Not on your life. I don’t want to seem desperate.” But you are. “Can I ask you a question before you go?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything. I have two sips left of my drink,” Miranda said as she grinned.

Joelle held her breath as she tried to formulate the question. “Have you ever wanted to have a man really dominate you, take full control? Have you ever wished that you could find a man who saw through your basic bullshit to the woman inside, deflowering every concept of a relationship? Turning to the darker side? Have you ever wanted to be punished for infractions on a regular basis?” She knew the answer by the look of shock on her best friend’s face.

Miranda sat back in the stool and crossed her legs. She remained unblinking for a full minute. “You’re serious?”

“I am.”

“Okay. My honest answer is not really. I’ve enjoyed some spanking in the bedroom, but I don’t think that’s what you’re talking about.”

Joelle shook her head. “BDSM. Domination and submission.”

“Uh huh. Well, it’s a fascinating lifestyle. You’ve thought about this?”

“For years.”

“Then go for it. There’s nothing wrong with veering off course, even for a taste.” Miranda leaned forward and placed her hand over Joelle’s. “Honey, find what you want. You’ve never been happy. In all the years I’ve known you, not a single guy has been worth their salt, according to you. There has to be a reason.”

“You’re right, but I have no idea where to begin.” Joelle took another gulp. This might be a three martini evening.

Miranda smiled. “Find your soul mate. Take a chance. That’s my advice.”

“I want to. I really do.”

Grabbing her purse, Miranda rose to her feet. “Good, then think about that statement, sunshine. You will know when the right guy comes into the picture and it might be when you least expect it to happen.”

“Good advice as always.”

“I’m always good. Sunday, how about brunch?”

“Sure. Sounds wonderful.” Joelle certainly had nothing else on her calendar, at least not right now.

“Excellent.” Miranda gave her a look. “I adore you, girl, but you have to get your head out of your ass.”

“Thanks ever so much.”

“Just looking out for you, kiddo.”

Joelle groaned and watched Miranda’s exit. Every red-blooded male in the room was undressing the leggy chocolate-skinned girl, hungering in a way Joelle herself longed for. What the hell was wrong with her? She fiddled with her glass, running her finger around the rim before dipping the tip just inside. She hadn’t realized she was sucking on her finger until three men saddled up close to her at the bar. They were envisioning a hungry cougar no doubt. Not a chance, boys.

After a few minutes, she grabbed her purse and keys. She had paperwork to finish in preparation of the upcoming trial. Her weekend would be spent honing her prosecution of one very bad man. Bad men. Mmm…

She laughed as she walked past a table of men, hearing their very blatant words.

“Hey baby, wanna date?”

“The things I could do to you.”

“You’re one hot mama.”

Yeah, she still was, even at her age. So what? She was still going home very much alone.

Joelle settled into her BMW, rubbing her hand across the console before revving the engine. The money she made afforded her everything she wanted—except for a man. Maybe she should buy one on the internet. The thought was unsettling but intriguing. Wow. She really did need to get laid. Miranda’s words settled into the back of her mind. Taking a chance wasn’t her style.

After turning to the Octane station on the satellite radio, she pushed aside her nefarious thoughts, concentrating on the case ahead of her. There were too many loose ends. The man everyone considered a monster had one too many alibis, but the public was demanding a conviction. How she was going to manage when all the evidence was circumstantial would be a miracle. She’d read one newspaper article on her previous win. Now called the ‘Come Back Kid’, she loathed the way she was depicted and made a promise to herself that she was staying away from all forms of the press until this case was over. She imagined there would be a spectacle at some point.

Joelle hummed along with Hail to the King, her favorite from Avenged Sevenfold, and pulled behind a minivan at the traffic light.

Baby on board.

The decal was enough to give her the creeps. Did she want children? She was far too old to conceive now. In truth, her clock had never ticked, but having a family of sorts was something she’d been craving her entire life. When the light turned green, she stepped on the gas and noticed the detour sign. “Great.” The city streets were a pain in the ass already.

She maneuvered her car, following the long string of vehicles down a series of streets. The businesses turned seedier, the dilapidated brownstones reminding her how riddled Baltimore was with crime. She was the protector. As a prosecutor, her record was stellar. Cleaning up the streets had been a goal since the beginning of her career. Yes indeed, she was damn good at what she did. With her promotion, she could certainly make a huge difference.

Stuck behind the van, she grew impatient as the line of cars moved forward, barely going five miles an hour. At this rate she’d get home sometime around eight. As if the time mattered. Sulking, her mind drifted, her desire for a hot man, a wild night and complete domination allowing her to go to her very dark place. Whipping and being tied, used like the good little whore she always wanted to be. Wouldn’t her mama be proud?

She licked her lips as her nipples hardened, pushing against her recently purchased lace bra, one she’d spent way too much money on at Victoria’s Secret. As if any man was going to see her matching crimson undies. She might as well be wearing rags.

She slapped her hand against the steering wheel and a roaring sound caught her attention. Looking to her right, the man on the Harley gave her an instant series of tremors. Dressed in dark black jeans and a leather jacket, his massive frame was the reflection of a badass biker. Visions of being taken over the Harley, fucked doggy style after a severe whipping left her mouth dry. The line of traffic moved forward just enough she was able to see his profile as he removed his helmet, shaking out his shoulder length blond hair.

“Fuck me.” Instantly she was turned on and she couldn’t even see his face. She was jittery, her left leg shaking, and she almost ran into the family van. Wouldn’t that bode well? Giggling, her imagination ran wild as he climbed off his bike, securing his helmet and taking a long stride onto the sidewalk. Where was he going?

Biting her lip, Joelle craned her neck until she could see that there was a bar on the corner. The sign for the establishment was blinking, several of the neon lights flickering, but she could just make out the name. “Biker’s Haven, huh?” Catchy to a point. She looked in her rearview mirror then up ahead at the traffic jam. You’re nuts. What are you thinking? “I’m thinking I need to live a little.” The words said out loud made her feel like a bad girl. She made a quick decision, grabbing the single parking space two car lengths above mystery man’s bike. After parking, she sat in her car, fiddling with her top. “What are you doing?” Taking a chance.

A chance? Okay. This she could do. She could walk into a bar, order a glass of wine and just see what the guy was like. The thought was ridiculous, insane in fact. Laughing, she cut the engine and took a deep breath. She’d never been afraid of anything in her life. Why this? Because this is very much out of your comfort zone. The thought was true enough, the realization worse. “No pain no gain, right?”

Just before he went inside he turned.

“Dear God.” Joelle froze, her heart racing. The man was drop dead gorgeous. Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.

He simply looked at his bike, as if to determine if it was secure, then tossed the door open.

Gulping, Joelle eased out of her car, smoothing down her skirt. She whisked her hand through her long, blond hair and took a few tentative steps forward. When she found herself in front of the entrance to the bar, she held her head high and placed her hand on the doorknob. Going inside seemed to be one of the most difficult things she’d done.

But she managed.

The bar wasn’t crowded, but the patrons inside were enjoying the loud sounds of blaring televisions, various sports playing from the multiple sets. She scanned the perimeter. Counting five women inside, she groaned. Without a doubt, she certainly wasn’t dressed the part. No pain no gain. No pain no gain. Swallowing hard, she found herself at the bar without realizing she’d taken any steps.

“What will you have, honey?”

She heard the gruff voice, knew she was being asked a question, but she couldn’t help but continue her search for biker man. “Um. Red wine.”

The bartender chuckled. “I’ll see what we have.”

Joelle couldn’t find Biker Man and she shifted closer to the bar, very aware she was being checked out by several men. A rough and tumble time in bed, huh? Yeah maybe. A full two minutes passed and she grew more and more nervous.

“Here you go, little lady.”

“Thanks.” She accepted the wine and held the glass in front of her face. Thoughts raced through her mind. She should leave now. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t her normal behavior or the kind of people she hung around with. This was…

“To find a lady, a true beauty, inside a biker bar is fascinating.”

His voice alone sent shivers skating down her spine and directly into her pussy. She sucked in her breath, feeling the heat of his breath against the side of her neck. “I have many sides.”

“We all do. Exploring the darkness dwelling within us is perhaps the most incredible journey we’ll ever take. That is, if one is willing to let go.”

“Letting go is something I crave.” Joelle shuddered as he moved closer. Why was she admitting her darkest desire to a stranger?

“Then you’ve come to the right place. You’ve found the right man. Tell me what you hunger for.”

When his fingers brushed against her cheek, she gripped the edge of the bar. You can do this. You can. You can. Garnering the last of her courage she turned around.

“Hello beautiful,” he breathed.

Shocking blue eyes, the kind she could melt into, were twinkling, even in the dim lighting. The husky voice, sensuous yet gruff as if consuming one too many cigarettes, suited him. Sporting what had to be a three-day shadow, his shaggy hair was as unkempt as the wrinkled shirt he wore under his leather jacket. For about a million reasons she was shocked she was as attracted to him as she was. Her pussy ached, her nipples hard enough the lacey bra was now confining. He stood well over her six foot plus frame in heels. His body muscular in all the right places, her mind reeled with endless and very wicked possibilities. She couldn’t help thinking about him naked, hovering over her as he fucked her hard.

“Such a pretty lady having such lurid thoughts. I think I just might need a taste of you.”

“Lurid thoughts? I think you’re a bit presumptive,” Joelle spewed as she gave him a venomous look. Was her look that telling or was this about another asshole thinking all women wanted to fuck?

“Well, then perhaps you’re thinking about feeding me to the alligators.”

“More like it,” she huffed.

“I love a woman with sass. Tell me, what’s your name, sunshine?”

Damn he oozed sex appeal. “Joelle.”

“Joelle?”

“Just Joelle.”

“Well, Just Joelle, happy to meet you.” He winked as he looked her up and down.

The moment she took his outstretched hand, her legs quaked. Whew. She was as turned on as she’d ever been. Thank God, the lights were dim or he’d no doubt see the flush creeping up on her face. “Do you have a name or should I just call you asshole?”

“Ouch! Feisty too. You can call me Craze.”

“Craze?” Joelle laughed. “Perfect for you.”

“Watch this one, Craze. I can tell she’s a ballbuster,” the bartender huffed.

So, he was known here. Interesting. “I’m just a girl trying to have a glass of wine in peace, with zero leeches.”

“I doubt that, sunshine, given you followed me into the bar.” Craze’s eyes twinkled as he crowded her space.

What a pompous son of a bitch. She sidestepped his advance and wrapped her hand around her glass of wine. She took a sip and looked away, as if he didn’t matter. All the while her body, the little voice inside her head, and every muscle and cell was screaming how attracted she was in the sluttiest manner.

“Yep, just another lady hot to trot for a biker.”

“I followed you? Not a chance, buster.” She heard the teasing tone in his voice and longed to kick him right between the legs.

Craze chuckled and took a swig of his beer. “Doesn’t seem like the kind of place a lady would frequent. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen you in here before. Hey, Chuck. Have you ever seen this delicious creature in your fine establishment before?”

As the bartender hovered over the bar, she wanted nothing more than to rip out Craze’s eyes.

“There ain’t no ladies in this bar, only women longing to get drunk and laid. I can only imagine which one she’s hankering for,” Chuck said as he grinned.

Before she had a chance to toss the wine in the man’s face, Craze grabbed her wrist. “Tsk, tsk. Not the behavior of a lady.”

“You know what, Craze?” Joelle asked coyly, as she stood on her toes, meeting him eye to eye. “You don’t know me. You have no idea what I’m made of. None.”

“Well, a line drawn in the sand. I love a challenge. Shame you underestimate me.” Craze took a step back. His gaze was slow as he roamed the length of her. When his eyes returned to her face he rubbed his jaw. “Why don’t we play a game?”

“A game?” She wasn’t certain she liked where this was going, but she didn’t try and shut him down.

Craze rubbed his jaw and leaned forward. “You’re a very conservative woman at work, powerful in your own right. You go about every day playing the part, hiding behind the mask you’ve woven so tightly around you that you’re suffocating. No one knows the real you. You pine away for something dark, a kink most would run away from. But not you. You hunger for a man to take control, showing you the darker side of passion, one that will leave you breathless with need.” After taking another sip of his beer, he locked eyes with her. “Am I close?”

She swallowed hard as beads of sweat trickled down the back of her neck. How in the hell could this arrogant jerk read her so easily? “As I said, you don’t know me at all.” Her strangled words gave her away.

“Really? I think you know I’m right and I can tell you’re ready to let go, experience life in a manner you can only dream about. My guess is you’re too proud to pleasure yourself. You have toys, but I’ll bet you haven’t used them in years. Am I getting warmer, sunshine?”

Sniffing, she gave him an eat-shit-and-die look. “Nice try. Do you use that line on every girl you meet, the ones you’ll never be able to get into bed?” The sound of Chuck’s garbled laugh only fueled her. “I like this game. Let’s see. You live alone because your past relationships left you empty. Besides, few women can tolerate your behavior after they get to know you. You can’t find a woman who tolerates your bullshit so you prey on those you think you can use your fake bravado on. I’m not one of those weak women. In fact, I’m unlike any other woman you’ve met.”

“She’s good,” Chuck said as he tapped the bar.

Craze exhaled, a whistle pushing past his lips. “Fascinating.”

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Joelle smiled, mentally high fiving herself, yet her lust remained, burning to the very core of her being. She took a sip of wine, then a gulp, her nerves on edge. Sparring was tasty.

A full minute passed.

“Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy your wine, very much alone, but I have one last question to ask you.” Craze kept his voice low.

Against her better judgment, she played along. There was something very familiar about him. Where and why? The craziest thing of all was that she was enjoying the cat and mouse game, perhaps too much. “Yes?”

He leaned forward until their lips were almost touching. When he spoke, his words were nothing but a dark and dangerous whisper. “Tell me. Are you hot and wet, your silk blouse sticking to your skin, desire sizzling your blood? Is your thong soaked from your sweet juice, your pussy clenching from anticipation of a man taking you, controlling you? Owning you? Do you dream at night about being taken over a man’s knee, punished like the bad little girl you are?”

Joelle opened her mouth to retort, yet she could only breathe out. They both remained still and for a few seconds she could swear he was going to kiss her.

Craze issued a low-slung growl and lowered his head to the left, allowing his lips to touch her earlobe. “You smell divine.” When he eased back he gave her a heated look.

Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Her knees were knocking, her breath stolen. Keep your cool. She eased back and gave him a harsh glare. “What makes you so certain?” She darted her eyes back and forth. Daring a man she didn’t know was impetuous, insane. The look on his face screamed of ownership, complete domination. “Well?”

“Careful, sunshine, your desire is showing by your hardened nipples.” He cupped both sides of her face as he dropped his head. “Because I already know you.” Capturing her mouth, he tipped her head as he slid his tongue past her lips.

She pressed her hands against his chest, clenching his shirt. Everything about the moment of passion left her breathless, desire racing through her to the point her panties were wet from a burning hunger, her nipples aching. She didn’t fight him as the kiss continued, their tongues entwining, his hands gripping her tightly.

Craze moved his mouth down to her chin, peppering kisses as he wrapped one hand around her shirt. Tugging, he exposed her neck.

Closing her eyes, she panted as he breathed across her skin. She was flushed, her heart racing.

Using a single finger, he slipped the tip into her blouse, fingering the top of her bra and sucking on her neck.

This was more than she could take. She wanted this man, craved everything about him. She relaxed, could feel herself letting go. Suddenly, she was left standing alone. She opened her eyes. He stood a foot away watching her, studying her face.

“We shall meet again, sweet Joelle, and next time, I’ll know you’re ready to submit.”

She shivered to her toes, every vision, every longing rushing through her mind and body. Craze was sexy, exciting and dangerous. Everything she’d ever wanted. She held her tongue, determined to leave with some sense of dignity.

He said nothing, merely took a step back and turned.

When he moved off into the crowd, completely ignoring her, Joelle was floored. No man walked away from her. Huffing, she slammed back the rest of her wine, glared at Chuck and pushed the glass in his direction. “I’ll take another.”

“Of course.” Chuck maintained a shit-eating grin.

Yes, they would meet again. She wasn’t finished with the jerk-off. Not by a long shot. Oh my God.

* * *

By the time Craze pulled the Harley into his usual parking space, his cell phone was ringing. He tugged off his helmet and remained on the bike. Grumbling, he yanked the iPhone from his pocket, glaring at the unrecognizable number. “This had better be good.”

“I think you’re going to want to talk to me,” the male voice held a tenacious lilt.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out who was on the end of the line. The tone was too baritone to be the reporter. “Who is this?”

“Someone who has uncovered all your ugly secrets.” The words lingered in the air.

Laughing, he eased off the Harley, securing the helmet as he shook his head. “Buddy, I don’t know who you are, but stand in line. Will ya? I have weekly threats from creeps who think they have some detailed bullshit on me. Guess what? I’m an open book. Let me help you with this.” He started walking toward his building. “I’m a card-carrying democrat who loathes the current administration. I drink far too much bourbon, smoke cigars, sleep with beautiful women and have on occasion fucked two at a time. I indulge on the finest meats and cognac and yes, when I was in college I smoked pot. The Law Review pretty much knows the same thing so if you want to come at me with something, make certain you have a flaming torch. Got it?”

Craze didn’t wait for a retort. He snorted and ended the call, shoving his phone in his back pocket. He was in no mood for child’s play. What he wanted right now was the sexy blond on a silver platter. If he played his cards right, maybe she’d succumb to her own cravings. He pushed the main door open with a hard thud and stormed inside.

No one was going to threaten him. No one.

He dropped his keys and went for the liquor cabinet. After pouring a drink, he walked to the front window, peering out at the world. He kept the lights off, preferring the darkness. While the long drive had cleared his head, he remained on edge, questioning his entire life. He swirled the liquid as he thought about Joelle. He’d never taken a woman as he had in the bar. The move was akin to a teenager or one of the people he’d defended during his tenure as an attorney. By all rights she should be terrified of him.

Chuckling, he took a sip of his drink. She wasn’t a wallflower nor was she afraid of him. She certainly did have a burning desire. Joelle reminded him of Anastasia, only more fragile in certain ways. The woman was sexy and unassuming. She had no idea the hold she had over men. How was he going to be able to see her again? Kissing and fondling her in a seedy corner bar didn’t seem to be the best method of obtaining her phone number.

He rubbed his tired eyes as his thoughts returned to the call. There would be more of them. Of that he was certain. Even his relationship with Anastasia would be a red flag to anyone if found. They’d been discrete during their times together, as infrequent as they were. However, if anyone searched long and hard, a connection could be made.

Perhaps he should warn her. No, she was a big girl with influential friends. She could handle herself if necessary.

Exhaustion getting the better of him, he walked into the bedroom, setting his drink on the dresser. Sleep should come much easier tonight. After undressing, he closed the blinds and was ready to turn off the light when his phone rang again. Snarling, he jerked the phone into his hands and answered without looking.

“Jerk-off. I told you. I’m not playing your ridiculous games. Get a damn life.” Craze was furious this go around.

“I guess this means what I’m about to tell you isn’t a surprise.”

“Mark?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost eleven. What’s wrong?”

“I assumed you knew,” Mark said, his tone clipped.

“Talk to me.”

Mark cleared his throat. “Did you look at your emails tonight?”

“No. I was actually busy for a change.” Craze took long strides into his office, hitting the space bar on his laptop. “Cut to the chase. What am I going to find?”

“Let’s just say I think that reporter wasn’t jerking your chain.”

Exhaling, he clicked on his email and waited. “I had a call from a man.”

“What man? Trent Michaels?”

“No,” Craze said as he gave the slow computer his middle finger. “Another guy, deeper voice.”

“What did he say?”

He could tell Mark was antsy as hell. “Just that he uncovered all my dirty little secrets.”

“Well, he wasn’t lying to you. I think we need to do some damage control before this gets out in the public.”

Craze narrowed his eyes and scrolled through twenty-five emails. Finally, one caught his eye. He hesitated before opening since it was from an unknown sender. When he did, he slammed his fist on top of his desk. “Mother fucking son of a bitch. I’m going to kill that slimy bastard.”

Chapter 4

Joelle eyed her third cup of coffee and her stomach lurched. If she had another blast of cold nasty roasted bean, she was going to vomit. Let alone her skin was crawling from heightened adrenaline. She’d been at the office since just before seven. While she’d made a dent in her six-inch pile of old files, she had a long way to go. Why hadn’t her firm taken the time and money to scan everything into the computer?

Grousing, she sat back in the seat and closed her eyes. Two full days had passed since she’d gone to Biker’s Haven. The sad truth was that she wanted to go back, but not for the décor. Craze. Even his name floated across her tongue. She glanced at her closed door and smiled before sliding the tips of her fingers across her lips. His kiss had been enigmatic, delicious. The man was fire and brimstone, the kind of guy she’d been craving her entire life.

She also knew absolutely nothing about him. For all she knew, he could be a serial killer, a man she might prosecute in the upcoming months. No. Even though he had a dangerous swagger, an almost monstrous demeanor, his eyes held his soul. He was haunted, even hiding details about his life and desire from himself. The thought intriguing, she slid her fingers inside her starched shirt, fingering her nipple just the way Craze had.

Tingling, she shifted in her seat until she could open her legs. Wearing only a thong without pantyhose, the wafting scent of her desire was unmistakable. She was wet. A single touch to her lace panties confirmed her condition. “Whew.” What was she going to do and how in the hell was she going to find him?

Tap. Tap.

She jerked up, yanking her hand out of her shirt and adjusting her skirt. The window on the side of her door could have given away her naughty deed. Seeing nothing, she slid her chair closer to her desk and brushed her hand through her now damp hair. “Come in.”

The door opened slowly and Miranda popped her head inside. “You’ve ignored my requests for lunch for two solid days so…” She smiled as she eased inside, her hands full of bags. “I brought Chinese food. I thought we could have lunch here.”

Joelle took a quick look at her watch. One o’ clock? How in the hell had six hours gone by? The scent of her favorite food made her mouth water and her stomach grumble. “You’re a brat.”

“A brat who knows you gotta eat. Am I allowed?” Miranda asked as she pushed the door closed with flair.

“Get your ass over here. I’m starving.”

“Good. All work and no food make for an emaciated woman.”

“Right. That will never happen.” Joelle grinned as she rose from her chair. “Bring it on.”

Miranda sashayed forward, every move exaggerated.

Joelle watched her buddy as she unpacked the goodies. “Spill it.”

“What? Can’t a girl bring her best friend treats?”

“You have a story to tell. Did you and Todd have a fling?”

Easing down into the chair, Miranda exhaled and fiddled with the cartons.

“I will come around this desk and kick your ass. Tell me!”

“Well, if you must know. We had wild sex for almost six hours the night I left you and three times a day since.”

Joelle groaned. “Don’t rub it in, you beast.”

“Hey,” Miranda said as she shrugged. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

“True enough.” Joelle grabbed a carton, opening and sniffing. “You are so good to me.”

“Dig in and never forget it either.” Miranda tossed her chop sticks. “I was in the area.”

“You’re a lying dog. You wanted to rub your good fortune in. Fess up.” Joelle gave her an evil look.

Miranda opened a carton and ate a few bites. “I brought iced tea, too.”

“Okay, what do you need to tell me.”

“Why do you say that?”

Joelle leaned forward, wrinkling her nose. “Because I’ve known you for over ten years. I know all your sexy desires, fears and when you have something on your mind. We’re already set for brunch and out of the blue you had to come here.”

“Fine. You do know me.” She took another bite before looking Joelle in the eyes. “I’m worried.”

“About?”

“About what you told me the other night.”

“Are you talking about my desire for a particular type of man?” Joelle shot another look to the door. The last thing she needed were ears listening in.

“Yeah. I’m not certain you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Joelle took a gulp of tea, pondering the comment. “Maybe I don’t, but you were the one who told me to go for it.”

“With caution. Extreme caution.”

“I did. I mean I am.”

Miranda opened her eyes wide. “Wait a minute. You met someone. Didn’t you?”

“I might have.”

She dropped the box and leaned over Joelle’s desk. “Where? How? Who is he? What does he do? How far did you go?”

“Hold on here. Slow down,” Joelle said as she chuckled.

“Seriously. Who is this guy?”

“Craze.”

“Craze?” Miranda furrowed her brow. “Is that his name?”

“Well, I’m certain it’s a nickname, but yes. Sexy. Huh?”

“Sounds, well crazy to me. Who goes by that name? A serial killer?”

Her previous thoughts drifted into her mind. “I don’t think so. There’s something very familiar about him, like I’ve met him before.”

“Have you?” Miranda asked as she leaned further in.

“Eat. That’s why you’re here. I don’t know. I can’t place him, but he’s pretty dynamic.”

“How did you meet?

“A biker bar,” Joelle admitted.

Coughing, Miranda grabbed her tea and took a gulp. “Are you serious?”

“I followed him in. He was riding on his Harley and stopped at this bar so I decided to follow him inside.”

“You’re insane. Jesus. You’re a prosecuting attorney for Christ’s sake. What are you doing following some stranger dude who rides a bike into a sleazy bar?’

“It wasn’t sleazy, well maybe a little, but it was early enough I wasn’t nervous. Besides, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself,” Joelle huffed, her thoughts drifting back to the kiss.

“You’re blushing. Did something happen?”

“Something?”

“Shit!” Miranda exclaimed then slapped her hand over her mouth. Darting a look over her shoulder, she lowered her voice. “What happened?”

“A kiss. Some fondling in the bar. The usual.” Joelle laughed and winked.

Miranda sat back, a stunned look on her face. “When I said go for it, I didn’t mean forgetting everything you’ve learned from practicing law. That’s insane.”

“You know? Maybe, but I’ve never felt so alive in my life. Our connection is electric enough to light up all of Baltimore. He’s powerful, dominating and knew exactly what I want as a woman. He saw right through my conservative persona into the woman strangled inside. I wanted to go with him on his bike, spend the night with him. I would have done so, but he stopped us before we went too far.”

Miranda opened her mouth twice before speaking. “Wow. Points for him for stopping the insanity. This is serious here. I’ve never seen you like this before. Ever. Why him?”

“I’ve never been like this before and honestly, I don’t know. The draw, the extreme attraction is amazing. I want more, much more.” Joelle laughed and wiped a bead of perspiration from her upper lip. “He’s powerful.”

Miranda chewed on her food and looked away.

“Say something. Anything.”

“What am I supposed to say?” Miranda asked.

“You know me. You’ve known how unhappy and unsatisfied I’ve been for years. Years. Jesus. I want that connection. I want incredible sex. I need to feel safe and secure, treasured in a way only a dominating man can. What’s so wrong with what I want?”

“Nothing’s wrong honey. I just want you to be careful.”

Joelle pushed the food away and folded her hands. “I’m a big girl. I’ve been around the block dozens of times. I want to explore, see where this goes.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know his last name, his phone number, where he lives or what he does. That’s what.” Joelle groaned. She was an idiot.

Miranda tilted her head and tapped her finger across her mouth. “But you do know where he drinks. Right?”

“Yeah. So? There are thousands of bars in the city.”

“Most men frequent certain establishments that they feel comfortable in, to relax and drink, unfettered by the rest of the world. This Craze person will go back there. Harley and all.” Miranda winked.

“So you’re condoning my involvement.” Joelle grinned.

Raising a single eyebrow, Miranda exhaled. “You’re stubborn. You’re going to do what you want to do anyway. There’s nothing I can say to stop you and yes, I’ve encouraged you to yank your sorry ass out of your comfort zone. You’re doing that. My only suggestion is that you use that prosecutor head of yours and find out as much as you can about him. Every man has a story, some more secretive than others.”

“Sounds ominous.”

“Meant to. Now eat.”

* * *

Joelle stared in the mirror, studying her reflection. “You are out of your mind.” Maybe she was, but she hadn’t been this excited in years. She gave a nod of approval and grabbed her keys. If Craze wasn’t at the bar, she’d have one drink, find out what she could about him and leave. No harm. No foul.

She managed to find her way, but drove up and down the street twice before finding the courage to park. She sat in her car for a solid ten minutes, staring at the flashing sign as if the damn thing was going to give her a sign. “Get out. Now.” She rolled her eyes and exited the vehicle. One drink and information. That was her goal. Well, one of her goals.

When she walked inside, she received the same looks as she had before. There were only three women in the joint and she suspected they were regulars. She took a glance around the perimeter, her anticipation creating a lump in her throat. Craze wasn’t there. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She shook her head and walked toward the bar, grateful at least the same bartender was tending. She eased onto a stool and tried not to pay any attention to the men who were suddenly way too close.

“The lady returns,” the bartender said as he moved in front of her. “Red wine?”

“Chuck. That’s your name?” she asked quietly.

“You remember. I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you.” Chuck held out his hand.

She shook and gave him a half smile. “Joelle.”

“Well, Joelle. How about a nice merlot on the house? I had a feeling you might be back so I purchased a few bottles just in case.”

“That would be lovely.” Great. Now the bartender had figured her out.

Chuck tapped the bar and turned to fill her drink order.

Joelle exhaled and took another look. He was definitely not in the bar. Why had she come here? She must be nuts. She grumbled and fidgeted with her keys in her pocket. One drink.

“I assume you’re looking for Craze?” Chuck asked as he slid the wine in front of her.

“That obvious?”

He laughed. “You two seemed to hit it off the other night. I assumed you’d come in here together at some point.”

“No. I didn’t find out anything else about him. Except he’s a good kisser.” She gasped when she heard her admittance.

Chuck folded his arms on top of the bar. “Hey, what goes on here stays here. Keep that in mind. He hasn’t been here since the other day, but I expect to see him at some point.”

“A regular, huh?” She ran her finger around the base of the glass.

“A friend of mine.”

Joelle lifted her head. “A friend. Interesting.”

“Craze is a good guy, a bit tortured on the inside, but all in all, a man you can trust.”

“Sounds like he coached you.”

Laughing, he pointed his finger at her. “You’re an intelligent woman. He might have mentioned that if I saw you again to let you know he’s not a serial killer.”

The words gave her a smile. She shook her head, lifted her glass and took a sip. “Very nice merlot and I’m glad to hear. I think he’s an interesting man.”

“Seriously. He’s a great man. He’s just never found the right girl.”

“Have you known him for long?”

“Almost all my life. He and I grew up together.”

Joelle opened her eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yep. The slums. We were trouble with a capital ‘T’. I was surprised at the career path he chose. Me? Owning this bar isn’t so bad.” Chuck grabbed a towel and began to wipe down glasses.

“So, I can trust him?”

“He saved my life on more than one occasion. He’d give you the shirt off his back, as long as you don’t cross him,” Chuck said as he laughed. “Seriously, you bet you can trust him.”

“Huh.” Joelle eased back, tension slipping away. Maybe she could take that chance after all.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you.” She half smiled as she thought about the other day. Craze was handsome, articulate and determined to get what he wanted. Few men wore an air of confidence that they could pull off. He was such a man. If he’d grown out of nothing, then perhaps everything he achieved or acquired was extremely precious. Including women.

Sighing, she twirled her glass and envisioned all the nasty yet delicious things they could do together. Sex. Domination. Discipline. He’d peeled away her outer layer. Even she had to wonder what was hidden underneath. She held the glass into the dim lighting and wondered if she’d ever see him again.

After a few sips, she checked her watch. She had an early day ahead of her. What was she doing sitting in a bar waiting for a boy like a teenager? She heard the door open and swallowed before casually looking over her shoulder, anticipation bursting through every cell. The haggard man entering was certainly no Craze and never would be.

Joelle laughed and motioned for Chuck as she tugged a twenty out of her wallet.

“Would you like another?” Chuck grinned.

“I better get home.”

“This one’s on the house, pretty lady. I’m quite honored to have such a beautiful woman in my establishment. Come back any time.”

“Why thank you, kind sir. I might just take you up on that.” She patted her hand on the bar and slid off the barstool. Suddenly the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She blinked twice and noticed Chuck’s smug smile. “He’s here.”

Chuck nodded and grabbed a bottle of wine, pouring her a full glass. “Another one as requested.” Winking, he moved toward the end of the bar.

Don’t look. Don’t you dare look in his direction. Her mouth dry, she eased back onto the stool and looked everywhere but to her left, but she sensed his presence. His scent was the same as before, an exotic blend of earthy spices and testosterone, the perfect specimen of a man. Inhaling, she resisted moaning. Had he noticed her? Should she care?

While she half expected him to walk over, reacquaint himself, the other and more knowledgeable half knew better. He’d laid down his rules. She’d have to come to him. Debating something of this nature was mind boggling. After all the wretched dates and unsuccessful relationships, she had doubts she was even desirable any longer.

“What are you drinking tonight, Craze?” Chuck asked, perhaps a bit louder than necessary.

“Bourbon. Beer chaser.” The rich tone was sultry, husky and laced with intensity.

She risked a quick look. Craze appeared much the same as he had before, tight blue jeans, boots, unkempt and sexy. Wine. She needed more wine to boost her courage. When her hand touched the glass, she knew instantly the crystal was going to tip over. A groan slipped past her lips as she fought to keep the inevitable from happening. While successful, she heard Craze chuckle.

Great. He was making fun of her. She brushed her hand through her hair, refusing to acknowledge the man. Damn her little voice for egging her on. Entanglement she really didn’t need. So, he was a good guy. So what?

“Make sure what the lady is having is on my tab, Chuck,” Craze stated as if every command was followed without question.

“Not necessary, Chuck. I pay my own way,” Joelle countered.

“I pretty much do what the boss says,” Chuck said as he inched closer, his expression one of amusement.

She gave him a heated look. “Chuck, if you ever want me to come back into your fine establishment, you’ll do as I say.”

Craze chuckled again. “Better do as she says.”

Chuck held up his hands and backed away, winking as he held a smirk.

Counting to five, she snapped her head in Craze’s direction. No matter that he was a sexy beast, the game they were playing pulled out the inner bitch. This was the kind of behavior she was used to. Little boys playing sandbox games. “Yes, he better.” She took a gulp of wine. If Craze wanted her, he was going to have to play his hand.

She rose to her feet and headed for the bathroom. Space. Cold water. Maybe she could come to her senses. As she walked by, she could feel his eyes, could tell what he was thinking. She’d come to his bar on her terms, just as he’d anticipated. However, the ball was in his court.

* * *

Craze narrowed his eyes as the voluptuous blond passed by. For some reason, he was more turned on than he’d been in years. Granted, few women pushed his buttons on purpose. Joelle was one ballsy chick. Why had she followed him into a biker bar in the first place? He’d seen the look, albeit briefly, on her face when he’d parked the bike. A second look confirmed the woman was intrigued. She had guts going into a hardcore joint.

Now she was back. While he’d issued the words, tempting her to take a chance, he hadn’t anticipated she’d have the guts. Yet, here she was.

“She likes you,” Chuck said in passing.

He raised an eyebrow and eyed his friend. The man knew more about him than perhaps anyone. “How so?”

“You’ve either lost your touch, my friend, or you’re getting old.”

Craze lifted his hand, giving him a three-finger salute. “Very funny. I don’t see you with a hot date.”

“You don’t know what goes on after hours.” Chuck grinned.

“True enough.” He took a sip of his bourbon and looked toward the hallway.

“There’s nothing wrong with taking a chance, my friend.”

“Yeah? She doesn’t know what I need.” Craze had never said truer words.

“Maybe neither do you.”

Craze turned and stared into Chuck’s eyes. The man was right. He was no longer certain of anything. What he did know is that the feisty woman was intriguing and he wanted more.

The flaxen haired beauty was more like a wild mare, one who needed training. One who needed to be yanked over his lap, skirt up and panties down, and her ass tanned. He rubbed the stubble on his chin, vile thoughts swirling around in his mind. She was all but begging for attention, her needs evident by her body’s reaction to him alone. Then again, his cock ached like a son of a bitch, so who was he kidding?

There was something about this woman in particular, an electric connection. His needs were rocket high and red hot. They were strangers, knowing nothing about each other, but he wanted to taste her, take her hard. No, he wanted nothing more than to own her.

After leaving Anastasia’s condo, he’d shoved that part of his life in a box. He had a difficult decision to make and needed to focus, concentrate on doing the best thing, the right thing for the city and for himself. He’d grown weary of nights alone and he was no further ahead in his decision whether to run for office. One afternoon off had turned into a few days. Avoiding his office, the press and the constant phone calls would have to end soon, but not tonight.

He shook his head and polished off his beer, sliding the bottle all the way down the bar toward Chuck. What he was thinking was not only out of the ordinary but if seen, could garner him a nasty story in the news. He realized he didn’t care. The connection to this woman was extraordinary.

“You’re dead on, my man.” Giving his old buddy a quick grin, he moved toward the darkened hallway leading to the bathrooms. He waited in the shadows, his desire increasing with each passing second. When Joelle exited, he moved quickly, pushing her against the wall and placing both palms on either side of her head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she huffed, her eyes wide as saucers.

“Exactly what you need, what you’ve been craving and what you deserve.” Lowering his head, he captured her mouth, crushing his lips against hers. The kiss was forceful and he pushed his tongue past her lips into the back of her throat, exploring the hot recesses. The taste of her was amazing, and the way her breasts pressed against his chest brought out his animal instinct.

A strangled moan floated past the kiss as she beat at his chest with her fists, her body undulating.

Craze broke the moment of passion and snarled before wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, intertwining his fingers in her long locks. “Don’t fight me, sunshine. You know you want this and I’m going to taste all of you tonight.”

“How dare you!” Joelle exclaimed, but her voice was decidedly low.

“How dare I? You want nothing more than for me to drag you out of here. Don’t deny the electricity between us. You came here for a reason.”

Joelle managed to slap him.

Hissing, he snagged her hand, wrenching her wrist, before yanking her forward, tugging down her hair until her back arched. The kiss becoming more barbaric, he cupped her ass with his other hand, squeezing as he rubbed his groin back and forth.

While she continued to fight, her actions grew slower, her sounds of discord switching to moans. She wiggled, trying to kick out, both hands slapping at his forearms.

Craze continued the kiss until she stopped moving then bit her lower lip as he growled.

Panting, Joelle dug her nails into his arms. “No… no, no.”

As he released her tender skin he cupped her jaw, the grip firm. He held her in place and took a step back. In their struggle buttons had loosened, exposing her lace bra. Using the pad of a single finger, he brushed down from her neck to her chin, tracing zigzags as he moved to the swell of her breasts.

Her breath sounds were ragged, her eyes blinking rapidly. “You can’t.”

“Yes, I can and will. You want nothing less. Imagine what I will do to your sweet, voluptuous body,” Craze whispered as he eased his finger to the thin lace edge of her bra. “Think about when I fill your mouth with my cock.” His breath skipped along her cheek.

“Um…”

“Fill your pussy.” Dipping his head, he licked across her breastbone.

Shuddering, she bent her knees a few inches as she licked her lips, her eyes closing.

“Fuck your tight ass.” Using his teeth, he peeled away the lace covering, exposing her nipple. “I’m going to take everything I want.” His movements forceful, he took her rosy bud into his mouth, sucking as he swirled his tongue.

“Oh God.”

The feel of her, the way she responded told him how much she wanted to let go, to have a powerful man dominate her. He couldn’t resist touching all of her. “Are your panties wet?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.

“Good girl. Do you hunger for more?” Using the flat of his hand, Craze rubbed down her chest to the front of her skirt. Gathering the hem in his fingers, he curled the fabric. “Spread your legs.”

“Yes, I do. I just…” Her eyes were glassy.

“Do you hunger to have a throbbing cock buried in your snatch?” He slid his hand under her skirt, rubbing the inside of her thigh. Her skin was soft, the scent of her intoxicating.

A slight moan pushed past her pursed lips. “God yes.”

He fingered the thin elastic before slipping his fingers past the slight hindrance. The moment he found her clit he began swirling the tip of his finger, her entire body began to tremble. “You’re wet. You’re in need.”

“Mmm…”

“I’m just the man you’ve been looking for.” His hunger off the charts, he jerked her panties aside, shoving two fingers inside her pussy.

“Oh, oh, oh… Yes!” Joelle rose onto her tiptoes as she dragged her tongue across the seam of her mouth.

“You’re going to obey me. You want nothing more than to be controlled. You’ve been searching your entire life.”

“No!” Joelle looked down.

Craze lowered his head. “Look at me. Tell me the truth. Do you want a man to dominate you, punish you when necessary?” The words seemed to echo in the dense hallway. He was cognizant they were being watched, several men remaining in the shadows, but close enough to hear every word, catch the sexy show. Was he losing his mind? No, his gut told him this was exactly what she wanted.

“Yes. I… yes…”

“Tell me you are,” he demanded. He was crazed with need, his arms and legs tense. Clenching his jaw, he was having difficulty focusing, his mind filled with sadistic desires. Whip her raw. Use her. She’s the one, the only one.

Joelle’s eyelids fluttered as a bead of perspiration trickled down from her forehead.

“Tell me!” Craze thrust all four fingers inside, flexing them open.

“Yes, sir! I long to obey someone.” Her voice was tentative, even.

“Will you obey me?” The question hung in the air. You’re fucking out of your mind. He heard the sound of his heart beating rapidly. He continued thrusting inside her sweet pussy and was rewarded with her muscles tightening around the invasion. “Will you?”

Her lower lip quivered but she panted.

“Say the words.”

“Yes, I will obey you.”

“Good girl. Then tell me what you want.” He craved fucking her right here, in the middle of the hallway, no matter who was watching.

She hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth.

“Tell me.”

Whimpering, she arched her back until her head touched the wall. “Use me. Take me.”

The words were sweet. Perfect. Craze heard a noise and looked over his shoulder. The four men gawking were in awe. “You’re going to enjoy it, Joelle.” Seconds later he reared back, rubbing his slickened fingers back and forth across her lips. “Suck your juice. Let the men see what a special slut you truly are.”

Her lower lip quivered as she opened her mouth, darting a quick glance to the strangers who’d crept closer.

He refused to wait, driving his fingers deep inside. “Should I fuck you right here? Should I strip you bare and savor the way they hunger for your body?”

She closed her eyes, sucking as she mewed.

“Whew,” one of the men breathed.

“Should I turn you over my knee, whip you then fuck your tight ass right here?” The thought was enticing and flashes of the very vision rushed into the back of Craze’s mind. The sound of his own voice was different, dangerous. He’d never been this way before.

Shuddering, she clamped her hand around his wrist and sucked on his fingers as her chest heaved up and down.

He watched in fascination as she licked his fingers clean and wanted nothing more than to fuck her, take her right here. Every nerve in his body stood on end and for a few seconds he considered the option. “Should I humiliate you here in front of everyone? Have you clean my cock after I’ve fucked your sweet pussy?” Now he was having difficulty seeing at all. The dark edges of his very sanity swirled around him. He’d never acted on his lecherous needs, only living vicariously through fantasies swilling late into the night.

Her body swaying, she continued moaning, the husky whimpers floating into the tight space.

He slipped his hand inside her bra, clenching and kneading her breast until she moaned in pain as well as delight “You belong to me. No other man will ever have you.” The words directed at the other two men, he ceremoniously dismissed them with a harsh glare. “Do you understand?”

“Yes. I… Yes, sir.”

“Are you willing to take a chance, find exactly what you need?” He was no monster.

Joelle half smiled, her eyes opening wide, then she brushed the tips of her fingers across his cheek. “Yes, sir. I’m more than ready.”

Joy unlike anything he’d ever known rushed into his system. Taking a long stride back, he held out his arm, offering his hand. “Good, then you’re coming with me. You belong to me.”

Hesitating only briefly, Joelle took his hand, the expression on her face one of defiance.

Craze pulled her behind him, taking purposeful steps toward the entrance. While he had no freaking clue what he was doing, he had to have her. He glanced at Chuck, who raised his eyebrows. Yeah, even this was very out of character for his usually raucous behavior.

When they were outside he tossed her a helmet. One thing he knew. He was not taking no for an answer.

Chapter 5

You belong to me.

The words reverberated in Joelle’s mind. Visions of being taken hard, fucked like the wayward woman she knew she was, created a series of images, every one of them dirtier than the one before. The man had ripped the mask off, exposing the vulnerable girl inside. She was wet, her pussy clenching, and the taste of her sweet juice lingered on her tongue. She’d noticed the men and thought for certain Craze was going to strip her naked, whip and fuck her. For some crazy notion, she wished he had. You’re nuts. What happened to you?

Every move possessive, he pulled her outside of the bar then stopped on the sidewalk. Cupping both sides of her face, he shook his head. “You do something to me, sunshine. Tonight, is one you’ll never forget.” He kissed her passionately, his tongue entwining with hers.

She was lost in the heated moment, every nerve standing on end. Exposed, she’d taken a chance.

Grunting, he pushed her back and nodded toward the bike. “Let’s go.”

She could only think of the way he’d touched her, violated her inner core. Sweating, she had no idea if she could go through with this.

Craze seemed to sense her discord. He gave her a look—a single look.

And all she wanted to do was obey.

“Shit.” Joelle was shaking all over, adrenaline sweeping through her system. She had to be out of her mind. Going with a stranger, on the back of a motorcycle to an undisclosed location, was without a doubt the single most reckless thing she’d ever done in her life. There was no way she should be doing this. She was a rational woman. This was certifiable behavior.

However, she realized she had no desire to stop.

When she struggled with the helmet, Craze took both of her shaking hands into his, bringing both to his mouth. He licked all the way down her middle finger, back up her index, then sucking on both. “I’m going to love dominating you.”

Dominating. She clenched her eyes shut as her pussy muscles quivered. Damn it. The wafting scent of her juice was evident. There was no way to hide the fact she was wet, in need.

Chuckling, he tightened the strap on the helmet. “This is exactly what you need, everything you’ve longed for your entire life.”

The words rang true and for a few seconds she was lost to the dark visions she swam in during the middle of every night.

“The ride will be hard, but the roar of the engine will be enticing. Then the magic will begin.” He straddled the bike, slapping his hands on the handles.

Magic. He knew her, could read her dirty little mind and all the masochistic desires that were never satisfied, her thirst never quenched. Excitement surged through her as he revved his bike. The look of him on the massive steel cycle was amazing.

“Climb on,” Craze commanded as he fastened his helmet.

Every action tentative, she hiked up her skirt and threw her leg over the seat. The slope of the leather pressed her groin and thighs against him, the skirt so short her damp panties slid against his jeans. As she wiggled, getting comfortable, the friction almost threw her into a climax. Instantly, the warmth of his body sent tingles trickling down her spine.

“Put your arms around me.”

“What?”

“Do it. Wrap your arms around me and hold tight,” he growled, kicked up the stand, and seemed to be waiting. “I won’t ask again. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled. Holy fuck. He was dead serious. Breathe. Just breathe.

Craze huffed. “Better.”

Gulping air, she eased both arms around him. The smell of him, exotic yet manly, made her groan. She could feel his muscles through the leather. He was all male. He was pure sin. He was…

“Hold on tight, sunshine. Gonna be a bumpy ride.”

He could quite possibly be her downfall.

Craze shifted and careened through the streets, bypassing cars. He maneuvered away from the congestion within minutes, guiding the bike onto the interstate.

Terror reared its ugly head. For several minutes she kept her eyes closed, her mouth pursed as wind whipped through her thin clothing. Goose bumps popped along every bare inch of skin. The anticipation mixing with fear made her nauseous, yet there was a part of her thrilled beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She held on tightly and as soon as she became used to the feel of the bike, the rumbling engine positioned strategically between her legs was mind blowing.

Joelle rested her head on his shoulder, sheltering from the wind. Fear eased down, enabling her to place her sweaty palm on his thigh. She heard his deep chuckle as her hand moved dangerously close to his bulging crotch.

He kicked down the speed, slowing then coming to a stop.

She finally opened her eyes. They were heading for one of the older sections of the city. While the area was slowly being turned into a trendy location, there were enough abandoned and condemned buildings her body could be dumped and never found. Her hackles raised, she fought back nerves. Hell no. Even murderous screams would go unheeded. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You’re crazy. Get away. You have to get away. Sucking in her breath, the woman inside, the disturbed whore, burst past the surface. Chuck wouldn’t lie to her. Craze was safe.

The bike humming, he slowed down as he rolled through the streets, making one turn after another. Finally stopping, he cut the engine. Tugging off his helmet, he shook out his hair and sighed. “Nothing like an invigorating bike ride.”

Her nerves on edge, she looked down the street. While there were a few cars a couple of blocks away, she saw no sign of human life. She jerked off the helmet. A quick glance up to the building and she knew she’d made a mistake. Red flags were swinging in the breeze. “I’m not certain this is such a good idea.”

“What’s wrong, sunshine? Did you lose your nerve?” Craze kicked down the stand and slid off the bike. “You can trust me. I won’t bite.” He circled around her once, twice. “Only enough so you know who owns you.”

Joelle shivered. “Own. You don’t know me.”

“You know I do. I know everything I need to set you free.”

He didn’t tether her nor did he force her to follow—yet she did. Every part of her wanted nothing more than to find out what mysteries he seemed to be harboring, ones including aspects of her very soul. This wasn’t love, or even about sex. This was about his total domination.

Leading them up four flights of stairs, Craze used a card to unlock the massive door. He said nothing as he led them inside.

She heard the click of the lock, realizing there was no way to leave. Fingering her neck, she controlled her breathing as she dared to scan the perimeter. The room was oversized, a warehouse reconfigured. Everything was stark, opulent. For some reason she was surprised. The art alone on the walls indicated the man had money, could afford the finer things in life. “You live here?”

“I own this place. This is where I come to comfort my beast.” His growl low-slung, he turned to gaze at her, his expression imploring. “You came here because you need.”

“Need?”

“To break free of the interwoven bondage stifling your soul, as well as to let go of all control.” He stopped and gave her a hard look. “You long to have a man in control. You can’t sleep well. You remain agitated. Relationships are non-existent.”

His voice had changed, the words almost garbled given the sensuous husk. While she trembled, her defenses still on guard, she could no longer hide behind the woman she was, the one who’d cried desperately to break free from her chains. “What do you want?”

His words were simple, his look serene. “All of you.”

Joelle remained quiet, fiddling with the lapel on her jacket.

“Remove your clothes.”

“What?” Somehow the request caught her off guard.

“There is no way you can be confused as to my direction. I said undress.”

A nervous tick appeared in her right arm. She clenched her fist, trying desperately to still the electrified nerves in her body, let alone calm the terrified thoughts racing through her mind. “I…”

“I said,” he commanded, the gruff sound echoing in the expansive room. “Undress. Do not question me again. Is that understood?”

“Yes. Yes, sir.” A cold draft wafted over her and suddenly she was unable to focus. Her fingers fumbled, trying to unbutton her blouse. She looked down and swallowed then up at his face. His eyes were dark, his expression cold. He was serious and this was exactly everything she’d ever desired.

“You will learn.” Taking two long strides, he closed the distance and with one hand he snagged her blouse. “Do you need help?” He tugged her blouse until one button popped off.

She could see into his soul, could tell he was more connected to her than he had been to anyone before. “No, sir.” Her fingers stiff, she fumbled as she unbuttoned her shirt, but managed to do so. Whimpering, her body sagged.

He slipped his hand around to the back of her neck, pulling her to her tiptoes. “When I give you orders, you will follow them without question. Is that understood?”

Quivering, she could only nod.

Exhaling, he dug his fingers into her skin as he glared at her, his eyes full of lust and darkness.

“I… Yes, sir.” Joelle had seen the haunted expression before, the one fearful of the man inside. His beautiful blue eyes seemed ice cold, as if there was no soul inside, but she knew better. This man was fueled by her, their connection.

He sniffed and released, pushing her back. “You will learn. I will teach you.”

Joelle thought to take a step back, but she didn’t. She should stop the madness, but she refused. This man caught her attention, knew her needs. This man had been able to see past the tightly woven veil. This man could possibly free her soul. This man would own her. The thought startling, a haze settled around her eyes. She was panting, her entire body wet with desire as well as apprehension.

Craze gave her a once over then held his head high. “We begin again. I assure you, if you disobey, the consequences will be much worse.”

Nodding, she shifted her shoulders, gravity taking the tattered shirt to the floor. She fumbled with the button and zipper of her skirt, her nerves and muscles twitching. Tugging the body hugging material, she finally managed to yank the sweaty piece past her hips. When she kicked it away, Craze inhaled deeply.

“Turn around.”

She held her arms in front of her chest and turned in a tight circle. Stiff, she almost tumbled to the floor.

“Slowly. Relax.”

The sensual husk in his voice was beguiling, drawing her in. A nervous laugh escaped her lips and she lowered her arms, fighting the urge to cover herself and what was left of her privacy. Let go. Let go… Her behavior was unnatural. No one had ever frazzled her. Not a single person; no defense attorney, judge or ruthless criminal had pushed her buttons. Why this man? Why did she long to please him? Take a chance. She repeated the move, this time concentrating on her breathing.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Take off your bra. Do a sexy dance for me.”

She studied him as he walked toward a massive leather chair, removing and tossing his jacket. Swallowing hard, she began to dance, twisting her body in a jerking rotation before he detected her hesitation.

“Show me the woman inside.”

“I don’t know her.” Joelle hated to admit.

“You will. I assure you, you will.”

A soft laugh pushing past her lips, she began again. Her moves seemed stilted at first then she closed her eyes, pretending she was in her own living room. She hummed, although she had no idea what or if the tune was real.

“Very nice.” His voice was more of a purr.

A slight smile remained on her face. She undulated and within a few seconds was more comfortable. As she swayed her hips she looked over her shoulder, catching his eye. The expression on his face was carnal. He’s going to take you, fuck you. Use you.

Craze grunted and crossed his legs, holding his open fingers together and in front of his face, the pyramid formation beguiling. “Keep dancing.”

Joelle did as she was told and with every step, every twist of her limbs, she inched closer.

“Excellent. Show me what you so hunger for. Show me the woman who hides inside. Show me the vivacious whore, one needing discipline as well as domination.”

Whore. On any other day, the word would have incensed her. Today she was turned on, her pussy quivering. Yes, she was a dirty little slut, one who needed to please, was honored to serve. The tone of his voice, a sensual mask of the seemingly haunted man, was intoxicating.

He sat up in his seat. “Show me my slut.” Fingering his belt, he raised a single eyebrow.

A cold chill swept over her.

Craze unfastened the buckle. “You heard me.”

Excitement surged, enough so she was forced to pant. This was terrifying. This was wild. This was unexpected.

Shaking his head, he sat forward and removed his belt, fingering the leather strap.

He was going to whip her. Blinking, she bit down on her lower lip. You’re such a bad girl. You need a harsh spanking and…

Crack!

When the belt hit the floor, she cringed. “I…” No, no. This was something she’d craved. Okay. Okay! She continued dancing, every move exaggerated, seductive. Purring sounds floated from her mouth as she covered her breasts with her hands, cupping and squeezing. Opening her legs wide, she bounced up and down, crouching low until her ass nearly dragged the floor. Her strong leg muscles kept her upright and with her tall stilettos, she could easily tell the effect she was having on the mystery man.

His groin was thick, his breathing ragged. “Pinch your nipples for me. Hard. Do it!”

Her obedience immediate, she plucked her nipples until they were rigid, then pinched, twisting until she yelped. The pain was instant. “Oh…”

“Use more force.” His face held a warm flush.

Mesmerized, she did as she was told.

“Very nice. You’re a natural born slut. Now come here. Come to me.”

Craze rested his head on his hands, his eyes never leaving her as she closed the distance. She moved in front of his legs, just out of reach. Taking a whiff, she moaned. His scent was scintillating.

He looked into her face as he breathed out then very slowly eased his gaze downward, picking up and fiddling with the belt. “Women need to be disciplined. You’re very disobedient, but of course you already knew that.”

The action was provocative, so intimate, and every inch of her body was covered in goose bumps.

Very gingerly he rubbed his hands up the sides of Joelle’s thighs, his fingers kneading her skin. “Open your legs.”

Joelle shivered from his touch and slid her left foot out. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. She could hear the echo of her heart beat in her ears. She wanted to reach out and touch him, run her fingers through his hair, but she knew better. He was in charge. Only he could give permission.

“You smell divine.” He tipped his head and scooted closer, pressing his lips against her stomach. He dragged the edge of the belt down her arm, inching the well-worn leather between her legs.

“Oh God!” The touch was electric, shooting current directly into her cunt.

Craze licked around her bellybutton as he brushed the tip of his finger back and forth across the top of her panties. “Are u wet for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you hungry for me?”

“God, yes!” Hearing the exasperated tone in her voice, she gasped when he dragged his index finger down the center of her thong to her pussy lips, just peeking out the thinning fabric.

“Very wet.” A dark chuckle floated between them. He slipped his finger between her legs, drawing a line back and forth, every stroke deliberate.

Crack! Slap!

Joelle jumped as the strap hit the floor. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She didn’t know this man. You can’t do this…

“You will obey me.”

Her entire body on fire, she dropped her head and was forced to grip his shoulders. She gazed down, her eyes watering, her long hair draping over his collar bone. The moment he touched her bare skin, beads of perspiration rolled down the back of her neck. “Yes. I…” She heard the slight growl just seconds before his mouth pressed against her mound, sucking her wet panties.

He wiggled his finger past the thin elastic, swirling the tip around her clit.

The belt never left her skin, a subtle reminder. She remembered the times her father had whipped her, taking her into his office. The punishments were rare, but brutal and very effective. “Mmm…”

“Hot and wet.”

“Oh!” A man’s touch had never affected her this way before. The second she closed her eyes she sensed the pressure of her panties being ripped from her body.

Whoosh!

“You certainly don’t need these.” Craze took both hands, parting her pussy lips.

She looked down, watching as the torn material floated to the floor. Run. This is crazy. You don’t want him.

But she did.

Looking up, there was no compassion, no remorse in his expression. He tugged her by the neck, easing her to the floor. “Now you’re my submissive. Suck me.”

Her knees hit the cold hardwood floor and she groaned. Everything about this was insane. Fucking nuts. Every aspect of this man was exactly what she wanted.

His grip remained. “Take out my cock and suck me.” He pulled her head into his lap.

This was no longer playtime. He was teaching her to submit. Her face pressed firmly against his throbbing groin, she held out her arms as she controlled her breathing. She touched the insides of his thighs and heard his sounds of desire.

“Your touch is incredible.”

She purred and squeezed his thigh muscles as she breathed in his scent.

Crack!

The single smack on her lower back gave her tingles. She moaned and clung to his legs.

“I told you, hesitation only brings pain.”

Crack! Pop!

The two additional slaps were harder, a reminder. She swallowed and nodded, giving him her acquiescence.

Craze pulled her head backwards and leaned down, his eyes flashing. “Suck me or I’ll have to punish you.”

“Yes, sir.” Whimpering, she found his button and zipper. The slight sound as she released his cock sent another series of shivers skating down her back. She hadn’t sucked a man in years and as she wrapped her hand around his shaft she fought back tears, several slipping past her eyelashes. Gulping, the sound was anguished.

“Open your slutty mouth.”

Was he really saying these things to her? She opened her mouth.

He shifted forward, the move shoving half of his cock inside.

Instantly she gagged. The tears flowed. She slapped her hand on his leg as she wrapped her other hand around the base of his dick.

“Relax, Joelle and breathe. I’m not going to hurt you. Enjoy.”

Every part of her entire being knew she should get to know the man, learn if she truly wanted to do this, to submit.

But she couldn’t. She was far too hungry.

“That’s it, take my cock. Suck me.” Craze widened his legs and intertwined her hair around his long fingers, pushing her face down.

Strangled by the girth, she gagged, the sounds floating into the room. Her eyes watered as the tears fell easily. Why was she so scared? Was she terrified of failing him or herself? Perhaps both.

“Stop.” He dropped the belt.

She looked up. In his eyes, there was only admiration as well as desire. She eased his cock out of her mouth and rubbed the tip back and forth across her lips. “Did I displease you?”

Craze lifted her chin and lowered down, brushing his lips across hers. “I doubt you’ll ever displease me. Tonight, is more about pleasure, but there will be some pain. You need to relax.” He gathered several of her tears on his finger and nodded before sliding his finger into his mouth.

The intimate move was touching, a moment allowing her to truly see the man behind the mask. While he wanted her full submission, he was learning how to be gentle with her. She would also be his teacher. She licked around her lips as she heard his ragged breathing. When she leaned back, his eyes were once again dark, his need taking him to a place of absolute control.

“Put your hands down. You’re going to learn to obey me or every punishment will be much worse. Do you understand?” Craze asked as he rubbed his thumb across her mouth.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now place your hands behind your back.”

She would lose all control. Obeying, she slid her arms down her body. Excitement tore through her, invigorating every cell. Her emotions were raw, conflicting. How could she want this?

“That’s it.” Craze brushed the tip of his cock around her lips then tapped her cheek. “Open your mouth.”

Oh God. Oh God! She winced and looked up at him as she opened her mouth, accepting.

Craze held her neck as he slid his dick inside. “Suck me. Learn to trust me.”

She kept her eyes on his as she relaxed. His cock throbbed in her mouth, the taste of his pre-cum scintillating. Breathe. You have to breathe. She swirled her tongue around his shaft as he moaned and after a few seconds, she used her strong jaw muscles to clamp down.

“Amazing. Yes.” Beads of sweat trickled down the sides of his face. He licked his lips and took both hands, wrapping them around her hair, tugging her head down as he opened his legs wider. “Now you will learn how to suck a man.”

Her heart raced as he fucked her mouth. Echoes of his grunting noises reverberated in her ears, the sound mixing with her moans. When she finally relaxed, he thrust faster.

“That’s it. Take every inch of me.” Craze moved her head, wiggling as he shoved his shaft in so the tip of his cock pushed against the top of her throat. He exhaled and held her down. “Deep throat. Very nice.” He sighed and tossed his head back. “Such a good whore.”

The action continued until saliva bubbled past her lips. Joelle was lost in the moment, willing her mind to another place, but there was a moment she knew.

She was ready to belong to him. Her nipples were rock hard, her pussy wet and hot.

“God damn your mouth is hot. I could fill your stomach with my cum.” His entire body was shaking. “Better yet. I could cover your face, your tits with my cum.”

The words were unsettling yet so enticing.

Craze exhaled, a moan escaping his lips. He removed his cock and drew zigzags on her cheek. “Sweet Joelle. You’d look exquisite covered in cum. Open wide.”

As he continued pumping, she gave up control, letting go as tears continued to slide down her face. Come on me. Come on me. Use me. This was so wrong, but every part of her wanted this. No, this was everything she’d longed for.

Shaking, he tossed his head back and forth as he rubbed one hand roughly through her hair. He jerked back her head until his cock slipped from her mouth.

Strings of saliva trickled down her chin as she coughed. Her eyes watered and she gulped air. Her arm flew around involuntarily, but she forced it back behind her, trying to obey.

“So fucking beautiful.”

Seeing the cold look in his eyes surprised her. She licked the saliva off of her mouth and scooted closer. “Are you okay?” She was as surprised at the question as he was.

Jerking his head to the side, he grunted, his eyes flashing as he slapped his cock against her face. “With you sucking my cock? Absolutely.”

The words sounded hollow, stilted. Joelle opened her mouth, anticipating another round. When he pushed her back, the force enough to toss her to the floor, she slapped her hand across her mouth. He seemed shaken to her, unsure, then he rose to his feet, towering over her.

“I want nothing more than to come in your mouth, spew my seed down your throat, but I crave more. I have to have all of you.” He leaned over, gripping both sides of her face. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips across hers. “All of you.”

She heard his soft growl, the tone guttural. Cupping his wrists, she eased her tongue past his lips and for a few seconds the kiss was full of passion, gentle romance.

Seconds later he broke the sweet intimacy and hissed, flipping his arms so he grabbed her wrists. He jerked her to a standing position. “Yes, I will take all of you.”

Suddenly his expression was completely different, his face wrenched. She stuttered, but there were no words she could say, nothing that would make any sense. His grip became so tight, his nails digging into her skin, and he held her in the same position as he roamed her body with his eyes.

“You will never want another man, never taste another cock. You’ll never know the touch of any other than mine. I will be your breath, your light, your sex, and the one who fulfills your very soul.”

The words were evocative, the understanding clear. How she longed to comfort his tortured soul.

Craze slowly lowered his head, nipping her neck. “Mine.” He laughed softly as he eased back. Seconds later he pulled her backward, shifting her over the couch.

She moaned and shoved her hands on the cushions, pushing up. The window in front of her drew her attention, a subtle reflection of the sordid action, the sinful tryst. His chiseled body moving behind, she arched her back. The sheen in the window highlighted their lascivious affair. For seconds he stood simply gazing at her. She had difficulty breathing, was unable to think clearly. When he touched her shoulders, the tips of his fingers lightly moving up and down her upper arm, she shivered. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am. I’m the only man who understands you,” he whispered and bent down, pressing his lips against her cheek.

His touch was so light, gentle, and her emotions were an odd dichotomy. How could she crave the light and dark in the same manner? How could she want the soft touch of his hands and the harsh strike from his belt?

“Every hole is all mine. You’re going to learn that tonight.”

“Yes.”

“Every breath you take belongs to me,” he whispered as he tugged her hips backward.

Slap!

His bare hand hit her ass.

“Yes, sir.”

Whap! Pop!

“You will obey every command, fulfill every desire.”

She nodded as he spanked her again, slapping his hand back and forth on both ass cheeks. “Yes, sir. Every command.”

Crack!

“You will come to me any and every time I call you. You’re nothing but my whore. Clear?”

The tone of his voice was gripping, the words enthralling. She was lost in the words, the meanings, every nerve ending on fire. “God, yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

The moment he shoved his cock deep inside her cunt, she tossed her head back and whimpered, her nails digging into the back of the couch.

Taken.

She wanted nothing more.

Chapter 6

I’m a bad man…

“Mr. Mitchell. Do you have the preliminary report?”

Craze stood gazing out the window, dark and lurid thoughts remaining. He had no idea how he’d lost control. Taking the woman, fucking her and using her, for God’s sake, was insane. She was a stranger, a beautiful creature who didn’t deserve to be… He rubbed his chin. He’d essentially coerced Joelle into becoming his submissive, if only for a night. His beast had surfaced. Had he forced her? The thought was an ugly swirl, creating bile.

“Hello? Earth to the fabulous Mr. Mitchell,” Mark asked, his words exaggerated.

The joking tone snagged him away from his anxious thoughts. “What?”

“Whew. Rough night?”

“It is Saturday. I don’t have to be in full work mode.”

“Right. Saturday, what’s that mean? My boss is a slave driver.” The tone was teasing.

He turned and eyed the only man he could call on to work the weekend without question and laughed. “Sorry, Mark. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Whatever it is, I hope she’s a leggy blond,” Mark said as he walked inside.

Leggy blond. Joelle was much more. “You trying to fix me up, partner?”

“Someone needs to. I haven’t heard about a chick in your life for over ten months.”

Craze resisted lifting his middle finger. “Just thinking about the case.” He was thinking about everything else but the case. They hadn’t uttered a word, either good or bad, as he drove her back to her car. In fact, they hadn’t even been able to look at each other. He wanted to say he had no idea why the Neanderthal behavior had surfaced, but he knew. The darkness within him had been creeping into his life in confusing ways.

Every dream, every moment alone had given him increased needs. Own. He’d actually told her he owned her. What the hell the woman must be thinking. He’d ripped her blouse, shredded her panties. He was sweating, his cock damn hard just thinking about the need. He’d do every bit of it all over again. What did that make him?

“Right. Sure. I’ll buy the bullshit. Not. I know you too well, remember?” Mark laughed and dropped a folder on his desk. “However, we do have a lot of work ahead of us.”

“We merely have to supervise, keep track.”

“Oh, come on. You know better. This case alone could put you on the fast track.” Mark folded his arms. “I assume that’s what you still want. At least you’ve been barking about your aspirations for months. I assumed you want political gain. I’m assuming that you’ve reached your decision on whether to run?”

Political gain. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to hunt down Joelle, take her back to the studio and beat her bloody. The thought was chilling. “Assume? Political gain is a savvy expression for winning at all costs. That’s why we’re here today. Remember?”

“How could I forget? You dragged me here out of my beauty sleep to work on a gorgeous day.”

“Beauty sleep? That would take months to matter,” Craze chided. His nerves were on edge and while he should condemn his behavior, try and find Joelle and apologize, he wouldn’t, because both he and Joelle were cut from the same cloth. She’d enjoyed the session as much as he had. However, he would find her somehow. She was in his blood, fueling his intense needs.

“Such a fucking comedian.” Mark shook his head. “And the campaign?”

Craze thought about the call he’d received from the mysterious stranger. The unknown man wanted to get under his skin, influencing Craze not to run. He exhaled and gave Mark a hard look. “I’m close to deciding.”

“Close. Right. That’s a savvy word for ‘when I decide’.” Mark rolled his eyes.

“You know me too well, dear man.”

“Fine, I’ll let it go. What do you think about our dear Mr. Martin?”

“What do I think?” Craze fingered the folder. Mark was correct. The outcome of this case could help advance his career or tank it in a heartbeat.

“From what I can tell, this is going to be a ballbuster.”

Craze nodded. “Then we have to be ready. We have two weeks until the start of the trial. Let’s roll up our sleeves and get to work.”

“Good deal. I have a golf game this afternoon so I’d like to be done by one?” Mark grinned.

“You have a woman or two to fuck. Who are you kidding?” Craze grinned.

He burst into laughter. “You’re right. I’ll grab some coffee and we can get started.”

“Grab me a cup too.”

Mark headed for the door then stopped. “Then there’s the other black widow hanging in the room.”

“Not an elephant?” Craze knew exactly what he was talking about.

“You shouldn’t kid about this. Michael Trent is ready to release the photos.”

He exhaled and fisted his hand. “That’s none of his damn business.”

“Yeah, but the Governor’s wife, for God’s sake?”

“I don’t need condemnation from you!” Craze exclaimed then softened. “Estranged wife. They’ve been separated for two years.”

“But they’re still married. That’s all the press is going to concentrate on. Jesus, my friend. I’ve worked with you for years. You’re slipping.”

While he was angry, he knew better than to take his rage out on Mark. After all, he was right. He’d been stupid thinking no one would find out. The last thing he wanted was to have Anastasia hurt. She was an innocent victim in all of this. How had the asshole obtained the photos? He’d examined them closely and knew they’d been taken by a long-range lens and while the clarity wasn’t perfect, the damning photos were enough to potentially ruin his career. “Yeah, I know.”

“What are you going to do?” Mark asked as he moved closer.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, my guess is you better soon. I doubt Mr. Trent is going to hold onto this very long.”

“He’ll wait until the right moment.”

Mark sighed. “The day you announce.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“I don’t want to see you discredited by all of this. We have to prepare a statement.”

“No damn statement. I’m not going to tolerate blackmail. You know that’s not me,” Craze insisted.

“Then you’re a fool. You have to get in front of this. Take away his steam.”

“But the truth is the truth. I was having an inappropriate relationship with a married woman of stature.” Saying the words made him cringe.

Shaking his head, Mark rubbed his eyes. “Think this through. We can prepare something that won’t drag you both through the mud. I’m pretty good at being your campaign manager, you know.”

“Is that what you are?” Craze couldn’t help but smile.

“You bet. Someone has to keep you from going to the dark side.”

“I suppose you’ll be wanting a raise?”

“You know me too well.” Mark winked.

“Get the coffee. We need to get to work.”

“Yes, oh master slave driver.”

When Mark walked out of the room, he turned back toward the window, palming the glass. He refused to think about the pictures. Eventually he’d have to call Anastasia, but not today. His thoughts drifted back to Joelle. He hadn’t even asked for her number. How could he? They weren’t dating. They weren’t a couple. They’d fucked. He’d whipped her until her ass was red. He’d seen the bruises, the crisscrossing welts. He’d seen and heard her tears; those of confusion, pain, as well as need.

“Shit.” Craze fisted his mouth and studied the street below, every nerve standing on end. Whatever had possessed him, allowing his ridiculous behavior, wasn’t shocking, merely telling. He’d found the one.

Vile thoughts rushed through the back of his mind, those of tying her down, clamping her nipples, her cunt lips. He fingered his belt, the very belt he’d used the night before, remembering the way she moaned. Visions of disciplining her, flogging her entire body raw filtered into his very soul. He closed his eyes and groaned. His body tingled. His heart raced. What the hell was he doing?

Fucking her. Using her. Owning her. Making Joelle your whore…

The words repeated over and over again in his mind, making his cock ache. He wanted nothing more. This wasn’t the response or needs of a sane man. He had to be out of his freaking mind. He had to be sick. All his life he’d known something was missing. Every relationship had been flawed. Not once had he fallen in love, although he’d pretended often enough. This woman, this wild and vivacious stranger had captured his very soul. The beautiful blond with the wicked smile, voluptuous body and intense need to submit had driven the dark man from hibernation.

* * *

“Fuck!”

“There is no chance of keeping Mr. Martin out of prison. None. I knew that.” Mark laughed. “But I don’t think you need to get that upset about it. The guy’s a murderer. He deserves to fry in hell for slicing and dicing beautiful women.”

“Remember innocent until proven guilty?” Craze gave him a look.

“Unless the dude has some air tight alibies, there’s nothing that will help him.”

Craze had been kept abreast of the arrest, the horrors surrounding the slaughters. There was no way to prevent becoming jaded. He prayed to God the asshole would be put away for a hell of a long time. Something he wasn’t able to admit. “If the case is solid, no.”

“Then why are we here?”

“Because the entire situation is going to turn into a media circus. Because we have to uphold the law, make certain no corners are cut. Because this could make or break my profession.”

“There’s the tiger I know and love,” Mark chortled. “I think we need to start from square one. I have everything on Mr. Martin’s accusers as well as his supposed alibies. I will also find out every bit of information on the prosecuting attorney.”

“Meaning?”

“So you know what you’re up against.”

“This isn’t a war.” Craze grabbed his cup of coffee, taking a sip. Now cold, the bitter brew didn’t settle well. He was antsy, his insane needs remaining at the very surface. He had to take her again soon or he’d go mad.

“I beg to differ my friend. This is very much a war. We just have to figure out which side we’re on.”

The thought was chilling. The innuendoes were something he couldn’t push aside for long. “Fine. Give me the details. Find out everything you can.” As he sat down in his chair, his lurid thoughts lingered. He was going to find her. Period.

* * *

Joelle rolled over in bed, hearing the special ring for the third time. Groaning, she shifted and slapped her hand on her nightstand, finally grabbing her phone after the third try. “Hello, Miranda. And no, I didn’t forget brunch.”

“I tried to call you yesterday because I knew you’d manage to get lost in your own mind. I mean your case,” Miranda huffed.

“I was busy. You’re right. I was working on my case. Remember, I have a job to do?” She’d spent hours on Saturday, sequestered over her computer files, trying to put all of the pieces of the puzzle together, making little headway. The sad truth was she hadn’t been able to concentrate. Craze. Every thought shifted to the man, the night, and her aching ass. “Since when do I forget things?”

“Right. Since forever. Did you have a date last night, perhaps with this crazy, I mean with Craze?” Miranda asked as she purred.

“No. I was working.” She wasn’t ready to tell her bestie anything. First, she needed to wrap her mind around the entire experience.

“Well, you have a date with me. You don’t show up, I know where you live.”

Miranda’s laugh was jovial but for some reason Joelle cringed. “Fine. I’m getting ready right now.”

“Good. We have champagne to drink. A celebration is in order.”

“You want to tell me why we’re celebrating?” Joelle asked as she winced seeing the bright sun.

“Nope. You have to make our date. Then I might tell you. Might being the operative word.”

Joelle chuckled. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Good. Wear something festive.”

Hanging up the phone, she threw back her sheets. She was wet, flushed and her pussy ached. His cock was… “Whew.” Rubbing her tired eyes, she placed her feet onto the floor and sat up. For a few seconds, she could swear his very scent was lingering, covering her skin. She was quivering all over. She’d remained in a highly sensitive state ever since he’d brought her back to her car, wearing his tee-shirt. Her shirt had been a part of the sordid event.

Why hadn’t she gotten his number? Because you had a one-night stand. Yeah, a very delicious one-night stand with an absolute stranger. With no condom. With no forethought.

Yep. She was certifiable, but she wanted more.

She slapped her hand on top of her bed and rose to her feet. Unable to resist, she rubbed her ass. The burn remained. When she walked into the bathroom, her eyes were drawn to the royal blue shirt she’d gingerly placed over her hamper. She reached out, snagging the soft cotton. Sniffing, even though his shirt was clean, his intense scent remained. Another shiver trickled down her back.

As she carefully folded the shirt, she eyed her reflection and couldn’t help but smile. She looked positively radiant.

The shower felt wonderful. Every inch of her skin tingled. She rubbed her ass and smiled, able to feel her marks on the pads of her fingers. Leaning against the cool tile, she closed her eyes, envisioning the amazing night. Even in the stream of hot water she shivered, her nipples standing at full attention. She smiled, thinking about the belt, his rough hands, and the night of intense passion. Then again, passion wasn’t the right word. He’d fucked every hole, delighting in shoving his cock in her asshole more than once.

Exhaling, she rubbed her hand down from her neck, pinching her right nipple. She looked down. His bite mark remained, a yellowish glow illuminating her flushed skin. No man had ever taken her so savagely.

As the water streamed over her shoulders and down her back, she shifted her hand down to her pussy. Her cunt lips were sensitive even to her touch. She envisioned his face as she swirled her finger around her clit then remembered his intense words.

You aren’t allowed to come unless I tell you.

The man was all powerful, very controlling. She repeated the move. Orgasming was something she hadn’t experienced in months. Until Friday night. Even with the sex so rough, she’d come several times. The thought left her panting, hungry. She groaned and removed her hand, sliding under the showerhead. She was already obeying him, a stranger. She laughed until she doubled over coughing.

Joelle stood in front of her closet, glaring at her clothes. Wear something festive. She hadn’t worn anything but basic blue and gray in so long, she wasn’t entirely certain she remembered what she owned that could be considered festive. She filtered through her boring day clothes, snagging a red dress she wore only for special occasions. Hmmm.

When she pulled out the rather slinky piece, she grinned. This was perfect. She tossed the dress onto the bed and walked toward her dresser. She had to find the perfect panties, matching bra. Spectacular underwear was the one treat she allowed herself as far as clothing. No one needed to know she was a minx in disguise.

Red. Of course. Today she would wear the dress of a harlot. The thought stimulating, she slipped into her attire and stood staring at her reflection. The dress hugged every curve, accentuated her full breasts and hips. “Ugh.” Wide hips. She hated her body yet Craze loved every inch, biting and nipping her flesh as if he wanted to consume it.

Lowering her head, she thought about his demeanor, the interesting location he’d taken her. There was no doubt in her mind Craze had many sides. All of them she wanted to know, longed to serve. “Whoa.” Another quick look at her reflection and she was surprised how bright her eyes seemed. Serve. The word alone was illicit, dazzling. She started to turn away. “You want him. No matter the reason, you do.”

Thirty minutes later she walked inside the bustling restaurant. The bistro was a hot spot for folks who wanted a delicious breakfast, as well as a fashionable cocktail or three. Scanning the crowded space, she finally located Miranda sitting at a table near the corner, a floor to ceiling window enabling a true vision of the streetscape.

Joelle smoothed down her dress and walked forward, cognizant of the admiring looks being shot her way. She wasn’t flashy, at least in her vanilla life. Her profession required anonymity, conservative methods. Shit. She loathed wearing the mask Craze had so aptly figured out. She held her head high, was careful not to fall on her face, and made her way to the table.

Miranda squinted as she approached, her jaw dropping. A smile broke out on her face. “Holy hell, woman. You look hot? Have a date after our little brunch?”

“No. You said wear something festive. Remember?” Joelle mused as she slid onto the seat. The heated gazes from men surrounding them remained. She felt vindicated, alive. Noticing the champagne bottle with two tall crystal stems, she leaned over the table. “You better fess up quick or else.”

Miranda grabbed the bottle, pouring a full glass for Joelle and topping her own. “Fess up, huh? Only if you tell me the truth why you’re wearing a sexy dress and ‘fuck me’ pumps.”

Joelle sighed and wrapped her hand around the glass. “There’s no particular reason. I just wanted to break out of my shell.”

“This change has nothing to do with Craze?”

“Not even remotely.”

“Uh-huh. You can’t lie to me, remember?” Winking, Miranda lifted her glass. “Well, since you’re going to be elusive, I guess I get to start the party.”

“Okay. What?”

“I’m getting married.”

Narrowing her eyes, Joelle tried to figure out if her best friend was serious. “Todd? I didn’t even know you were dating him exclusively. I thought you were just fucking three or four men of the hour.”

“That was then. This is now. I’m serious and no, not Todd.”

“Okay. Who is the lucky guy?” Had her bestie even mentioned one in particular? As they clinked glasses and she took a sip, her mind wandered to Craze. What was he doing? Was he thinking about her?

“Josh Stone.”

The name sounded familiar. Joelle racked her memory. “You mean the local musician?”

“None other!”

“Now you have to tell me the story.”

Miranda took a gulp and sat back in her seat, her eyes twinkling. “I met him three weeks ago at a club. We talked in between sets. He asked me back to his place that night and we’ve been hot and heavy ever since. Well, I did have the last interlude with Todd and that taught me a lesson. I’m ready to settle down.”

“And you’re getting married after three weeks?” This wasn’t Miranda’s normal behavior.

Holding up her left hand, she showed off the large diamond on her finger. “Gave this to me just yesterday.”

“Wait a minute here. You’re serious? You thought I was ridiculous for simply considering dating Craze.”

“Of course I am and Josh isn’t a guy I followed into a bar,” Miranda huffed. “He’s amazing and everything I’ve ever wanted. Love at first sight times ten. Whew is all I can say.”

She studied her best friend, the girl’s flushed face and quivering lower lip, and realized she’d had the same reaction to Craze. Unfortunately, what they’d shared had zero to do with love at first sight. Lust maybe. Ownership definitely. Not romance or marriage. The thought was…

“Aren’t you happy for me?”

Joelle fingered her glass and leaned closer. “Girl, I love you and want you happy always.”

“But?”

“But, knowing a guy for really about three weeks before agreeing to marry him might just be a bit presumptive. Don’t you think? You did sleep with Todd.”

Miranda looked out the window and waited a few seconds. “Todd was fun, but I’m almost fifty. I’ve never felt this way about a man before. I’ve dated white guys, black guys and every color in between. They’ve been truckers and corporate executives and never have I giggled and swooned. Not once. This man, this amazing and very sexy singer just does it for me.”

Joelle had no idea what to say, but her inner voice was reminding her of the similarities with Craze.

“Don’t you believe in true love?”

“I don’t really know.”

“You need to let go of your defenses. Haven’t you ever just had a hot moment with a guy when you knew it could lead to something amazing for the rest of your life?”

Hesitating, she gazed out the window into the bright sun, heat rising on her face.

“Wait a minute. Hold on here. I was right. You’ve seen Craze.”

“What?”

Miranda snickered. “The dress, the heels and the blush on your face tell me you met with him again. Did you?”

Joelle hesitated. How in the hell could she tell Miranda about what occurred?

“You better tell me all the details!”

“Okay. I… I might have.”

“Oh, holy crap! This is much better than my news. Tell me everything. Leave no details out or I’ll beat your ass.”

Joelle wiggled in her seat.

“Oh boy, this must be a good story. Talk.” Miranda’s expression was mischievous.

“Well I did go back to the bar.” Not just any guy. Craze is a man who wants to own me. Joelle lifted her glass, licking the rim.

“And?” Miranda leaned forward.

“And I’m not sure what to think. He was just as enigmatic.”

“You’re not sure of what? That you like him? That you want to see him again?”

She groaned. “I just don’t know if he’s good for me.”

“Why in the hell isn’t he good for you? Tell me about him. You obviously continued your connection so I hope you were smart enough to ask questions, perhaps check his bank account.”

Joelle shrugged, hating to admit she hadn’t even thought about asking him any questions. “I still don’t know much really. He’s a hot guy, owns a Harley. He has a studio downtown.”

“What’s his name?” Miranda implored.

“Craze.”

Choking, Miranda took a gulp of her champagne. “No silly. His real name. I’m sure you asked given the professional and careful woman you are.”

“We didn’t get around to talking about our lives.”

“Okay. Did you get his telephone number? We can always glean some information.”

Joelle thought about what little he’d told her. “No.”

“Wow. You really did go outside of your comfort zone.” Miranda narrowed her eyes. “You really don’t know his real name or contact information?”

“No. I didn’t tell him mine either.”

“Hmmm. What does he do?”

Joelle laughed. “I have no idea.”

“Okay. I can tell by the sweat rolling down the side of your face you fucked him,” Miranda said, her voice rising.

Wiping the bead away furiously, she looked around the room. “Do you want to announce this to the entire place?”

“Kinda big if my bestie fucked someone.”

Groaning, Joelle gave her a harsh look. Of course, the entire situation was ridiculous to normal people. “I was stupid. Irresponsible.”

“You were, but you seem happy. Isn’t it wonderful?”

The truth was more than just wonderful. “I just don’t know what I was doing. He forced me to go with him and I allowed him to fuck me.” She moaned and dropped her head.

“Forced you?” Miranda leaned forward.

“Yeah. Well...” Joelle shifted. “I wanted to go, but everything happened so fast. I met him again. We clicked and suddenly I was on the back of his Harley.”

“Okay, I know what I said to you about being careful. However, sometimes something so unexpected occurs, so very much out of the ordinary and it can be the best experience that happens to us. I know. Josh is that way. I never expected to meet someone so much like me. We have everything in common and damn girl, he’s hot in bed.”

Joelle inhaled, remembering his cologne, and her entire body quivered. “Craze is very dominating.”

“Exactly what you need,” Miranda breathed.

“What? I’m very aggressive with what I do. I take no shit. I refuse to take the back seat. I need a man who understands who I am.”

“You need a man to take control of you. I’ve always known this about you. I can tell by your face you like this guy. Are you seeing him again?”

Was she so damn transparent? “I don’t know anything about him. I doubt I can get in touch with him again.”

“You seriously didn’t exchange numbers?”

“No. Just didn’t come up.”

Miranda laughed and shook her head. “You’re hooked on a guy who so obviously gives you everything you’ve been craving and you have no idea how to get in touch with him?”

“Ridiculous. Right?” Joelle gazed out the window, studying the shoppers milling about. She had to see him again. Without a doubt, she needed to find out if the connection was truly as electric as she remembered. “God.”

“But you know where he lives?”

“I do but…” Suddenly, she saw him. Craze. He was leaving a store across the street. She shifted forward, her pussy clenching. A moan escaped her lips before she could suppress.

Miranda followed her gaze. “Is that Craze?”

“I think so,” Joelle managed.

“I can tell from here why you’re so attracted. Wish I could see his face better, but his body is kick ass. Go talk to him. Whew baby he’s hot.”

“What, now?” Joelle shot her a look.

“No time like the present.”

She thought about the concept, took a sip, then a gulp. “I can’t. What we shared wasn’t right.”

“In what country?”

How could she tell her best friend she’d been forced into sex and whippings? Was she forced? Shuddering, she knew better. She’d wanted every minute of what happened. “I just can’t. I don’t know.”

Miranda sat back in her seat, swilling her champagne. “You know, I realize people might think I’m crazy, but when I met Josh something clicked. I think every once in a while in our lives we have to let go, believe the inner girl inside. We have to take a chance, a leap of faith. We’re not getting any younger and I, for one, don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. If Craze embroiled those dark needs I know you have, then you have to take a chance.”

“What if I’m wrong?”

“Then you tried. Tell me this. What do you have to lose?”

The question was one Joelle had been asking herself for two days.

* * *

Joelle pulled up to the red light, remembering everything Miranda had said. Taking a chance on anything hadn’t been in her for years. The single night had been so extraordinary, so utterly breathtaking, yet she remained on edge. Still, she needed the change. She had plodded through life knowing what was going to happen the next day, the next week and generally the next year. She tapped her head on the steering wheel and berated her dull behavior.

Beep!

Jerking up, she snarled and hit the gas. She had work to do. So why are you in a hot, red dress? Shaking off her little voice, she moved to the next intersection and realized where she was. If she turned right she’d go back home, but if she turned left… Time ticked away slowly.

Do it. Do it. Do it.

She turned left and every nerve in her body was on fire. As she drove the city streets, praying she’d remember how to get to his place, she hummed to the music. Nothing was going to soothe her nerves. Nothing.

As she cruised through the downtown area, taking turn after turn, she hissed. Her eyes had been closed half the time. While she recognized some of the buildings, she wasn’t entirely certain where the hell she was going. After coming to a one-way street, one that lead to a dead end, she pulled over and tried to rationalize what she was doing. Go home. You have work to do. Yes, she did. The case was looming and she had to be on her A-game.

She pulled out, determined to do just that when she noticed a building. Yes, she’d seen this one moments before Craze had pulled to a stop. Regaining her resolve, she eased out and turned around, taking a left at the light. Minutes later she could see the aging building up ahead. His condo. He’s there. He’s… Swallowing hard, she rolled to the parking spot about a half block from the engaging brownstone. Even from where she was idling, she could see his bike.

Dear God, she was wet, hot as she’d ever been. This was crazy, insane in fact, but she couldn’t help herself. Parking the car and turning off the engine, she sat with her keys in her hand for a full five minutes. Then she climbed out of the car. The walk to the building seemed to take forever, but the moment she was at the outer door, the one leading to nirvana, she smiled. The woman inside wanted this. The woman inside craved a firm hand.

She climbed the stairs, trying to figure out what to say, how to greet him. Hello, sir. Your slut is here. Hello, Master, I’m here to please you. She snorted and continued her trek until she was standing in front of the massive door. Music floated from his condo, jazz music. The blues singer was melodic, the guitar haunting. She bit her lip and listened for a full minute. The song was captivating. Little girl lost. Except she was no longer a girl. The woman standing in a provocative red dress had an agenda.

Her actions tentative, she knocked lightly. Seconds later, when she heard no movement, she turned to leave. No. You will not do this. Garnering a deeper level of courage, she knocked again, this time much louder. Seconds later she heard thumping footsteps and almost turned and fled.

The door opened and as Craze peered down at her, the look of surprise quickly turned into one of intense hunger. “My slut. Why are you here?”

“I… I don’t know really.”

“Let me think,” he breathed, the tone of his voice husky. “You’re here because you know I’m your Master. You need what only I can provide.” He opened the door wider, allowing her access.

She hesitated for a full minute, contemplating his words. “Yes. You’re right.” There was nothing self-assured about her tone or the inflection surrounding her simple sentence. She was utterly terrified.

“Come in. I’ve had thoughts about you. Desires.” He held out his hand.

“I’ve been thinking as well.” The touch was gentle but electric.

Craze nodded. He brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them softly. “Fascinating. Let’s talk.”

The intensity of his gaze, his heated breath and his welcoming smile eased away some of the tension.

He stepped backward, pulling them both inside.

“What have you been thinking?” Joelle dropped her purse by the door, her gaze captured by a large canvas, various painting implements on a side table. She held her head high, knowing she was being scrutinized.

“How much I enjoyed our evening together. How much I wanted to see you again.” A smile crept onto her face. She darted a look around the room, the smile widening. “You’re an artist.”

He laughed as he closed the door. “Thank you for the compliment. I dabble only. Painting drives away my demons. I find when I stand in front of the canvas, the medium blank, so raw, I find solace.”

The statement was telling. “We all have demons, some difficult to admit.” Her words seemed to catch him off guard. For a split second, she could see his mask, one hidden behind the mystique of pain.

“Yes, we do. Some refuse to take a back seat.”

Joelle laughed nervously. “As if our very psyche knows what we need.”

“Yes.” He turned and studied her. “Wine? I was just getting ready to have some merlot. I believe your favorite.”

“I’d love some.” Her lower lip quivered. The man was good.

“Excellent. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Joelle tingled and watched him walk away, his boots thudding against the floor. He was dressed in all black, tight jeans and a faded tee shirt. There was nothing expensive or overtly dominating about his attire. Craze was ruffled, as if in the middle of a project. The painting was amazing. The man an enigma.

He was perhaps the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. Of course he held secrets, those he wasn’t ready to tell her. She had her own. Two strangers so connected. How amazing. She walked toward the oversized canvas, several areas marked by fresh paint, marveling at his talent. The vibrant piece was of a woman, her inner agony reflected on her twisted face, yet her eyes spoke of something else. Bliss. She was tethered to a bed, her arms and legs shackled. Slickened with sweat, she held a look of wonder. She was on all fours, naked, her long blond hair streaming behind her. On the bed beside her was a ruthless looking whip.

She moved closer and was able to see details others might never understand. Her ass was crimson, a slight bruising covering her lower back, thighs and ass. Around her neck was a silver collar, solid in design, a lock dangling from the front. Everything about the scene was reminiscent of the time they’d spent together. Even the face of the woman seemed like her own. She leaned in, her eyes flitting back and forth from the woman’s face and eyes to the curvature of her breasts, the mole nearly hidden just under the right. “What… I…”

Moaning, Joelle took a step back, pressing the back of her hand over her mouth. He’d painted her. The entire setting was one of fantasy, but she knew there was nothing he wanted more.

“A thing of beauty,” he half whispered as he moved behind her, offering her a glass of wine.

She managed to grasp the glass and nodded. “You are much more talented than you believe.”

“Women are the most beautiful creatures on the face of the earth. Capturing their individual essence is something I’ve always dreamt of doing. I observe while they merely go about their day. I don’t think women understand how truly telling their body language can be.”

His heated breath cascading across the back of her neck gave her goose bumps. She thought about her habits. She did everything just so. Organization was her friend as well as her enemy. “You’ve done an amazing job. Her emotions are raw, pain mixing with a level of pleasure that she’s never known. She’s tentative yet excited.”

“Fascinating and very true. Can you tell by her face how much she longs for more?” Craze ran the tips of his fingers down the length of her spine.

“Yes,” she whispered, her pussy quivering. “You’ve given her a window to her soul.”

“Can you tell how much she longs to beg her Master?”

“Yes, I wonder what she’s thinking.”

“You worry she’s being forced?” he asked as he moved around her, his look penetrating. “You worry she’s being abused?”

“No.” The word was said easily. “She knows what she wants, what she has to have. She’s yearned for a release her entire life. She’s finally at a point she accepts the woman inside. There is no question in her mind, only a quiet reverence of the man she calls Master.”

“Exactly. She’s found a place where she can be herself.” His eyes flashed, the combination hunger and intrigue.

An echo of his words reverberated in her mind, her eyesight becoming a vacuum. The beauty of the piece was incredible. “She’s found a place she can call home.”

He inhaled and kissed the top of her head. “I’ve done my job as an artist. Now I hope to delve into my commitment as a Dom.”

Joelle tingled as she took a sip of wine, closing her eyes and listening to the music. The words reverberated into the back of her mind. A place she could be herself. How long had she been searching?

“Why are you here, sunshine? Why did you find me?” Craze remained where he was.

The sensuous tone in his voice was toxic, yet gave her courage. “I wanted to see you.”

“Want?”

“I needed to find you.”

“Interesting. A woman of your stature desiring domination.” He slipped in front of her. “Open your eyes.”

She did so immediately, swallowing hard in an effort to tamp down a moan. “Yes. Yes, sir?”

“Are you here to submit to me?”

The question hovered. Her eyes were unable to focus, her breathing rapid. “Yes.”

“Do you truly understand what you hunger for, what kind of submission I’m talking about?” Craze touched her face, brushing his fingers across to her chin, cupping as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across the seam of her mouth.

She opened her mouth, darting her tongue to taste his sweet flesh. His smile was her reward. “I do. I don’t know why.”

“You do know why. You’ve always known why.”

Every inch of her skin was alive, on fire.

“Do you realize you’ve become my submissive, longing to please me?”

Shivering, she nodded, her mask peeling away. Suddenly euphoric, the words tumbled out. “I’m nothing but your slut. I want you to fuck me, use me.”

A full minute ticked by.

Craze took a sip of his drink. He moved away, studying the picture from the side. “She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. I had to paint her. I wanted to capture the look of innocence as well as the wanton submissive hiding just beneath the surface.”

“She is and you can see her desire mixed with raw emotions. She remained conflicted but her inner psyche is finally taking over.”

“The moment I saw your face on the dirty street corner, I knew I had to paint you.”

“Why?” Joelle already knew the answer.

“Why? I captured the essence of the woman inside, the one who was free to give me all of her. I had to honor that woman, the very one I want nothing more than to own.”

The words were startling. She turned to face him and everything in this moment seemed right, as if she belonged. “I do want you. I want to belong to you and no one else.” As he took a sip of his drink, she looked back at the picture. How had he captured every aspect of her very being?

* * *

Craze wasn’t surprised Joelle had found him. What little he knew about her gave him the impression she would return. Their connection was too intense. Formidable. He was unable to take his eyes off her, the stunning woman standing in a fiery red dress. Then again, he hadn’t been able to take his mind off of her, even masturbating several times to the thought of whipping her. Shackling her. Enslaving her. He sucked in his breath and the wafting scent of her feminine needs as well as her exotic perfume had already driven him to the dark side. Take her. Fuck her. Whip her. He shivered. The thought kept his cock rock hard. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Joelle blushed, but a willful moment remained.

He adored the way she hid behind her glass, embarrassed as well as uncertain of what she was doing, yet the ballsy woman would be a powerful draw. He loved her intelligence and wit, as well as her vulnerability. “You wore the dress for me.”

Joelle darted a look. “Yes, I did.”

“Let me see all of you. Turn around.”

She did so without hesitation, spinning slowly.

Her actions were beguiling and his dick pushed hard against his pants. Breathing in her sweet scent, his lust grew exponentially. “Amazing.” He took a gulp of his wine, savoring the flavor, as he thought about everything he longed to do to her, with her. His kink was heightened. His dark side had bridged the surface and there was no way he could ever return to the vanilla world in its entirety. She’d opened his personal Pandora’s Box. He was no longer a man, merely a Dom ready to begin her training. “Do you like what you see?”

“The artist or the man?” The lilt in her voice suggested playfulness.

Craze swallowed, visions and intense needs sweeping through every cell. “They are very much the same.”

“A man who hides behind his own mask, terrified the world is going to see a tortured yet brilliant soul. The moment you open the window to the man inside, you’re never going back. Are you?” Joelle locked eyes.

The electricity increased. She’d seen right through his worthless persona. He lifted one eyebrow along with his glass. “I suppose I’m more transparent than I believed.”

“We are two of a kind.”

“That we are. I’m asking if you like or appreciate both the man as well as the world he created.”

Joelle lifted her own glass. “Very much so.”

“Very good to hear because I’m going to show you more of the man. Follow me.” He didn’t wait, knowing without a doubt she’d follow. No other woman had been here. No other woman had been allowed to see the real man, the one he’d hidden from everyone his entire life. As he walked down the long hallway his thoughts remained unsettling. Letting his beast out wasn’t something he’d ever believed could happen, or should happen for that matter. Few could understand the dichotomy of his two distinct personalities.

Joelle remained quiet as she followed. Her breathing was shallow.

He opened the set of double doors and the moment he pushed both to the side, he heard her slight gasp. A tingle of raw excitement surged through him.

“These are yours?” she asked as she walked inside.

Glancing around the room, Craze had never really looked at the number of paintings he’d finished over the years. Painting was his respite, his ability to break free from the tentacles tying him to a life he sometimes loathed. He’d never brought one to his other home. He couldn’t afford to have clients or friends garner a glimpse of the man inside. “Yes.” He realized he was nervous as she studied his art, the true window to his soul. When she turned to face him, her eyes shining, he was vindicated.

“They’re amazing, absolutely incredible. This is what you do for a living?” A smile curled across her lips, she walked through the various canvases, her look full of astonishment.

Craze chuckled. “No. Quite frankly, I don’t think they’re good enough except for over my fireplace mantel.”

“You’re wrong.” Her smile broadened as she glanced at him. “They’re remarkable, so rich in detail. They depict strangled emotions, a deep-seated yearning for something we all have, but so terrified and conflicted we refuse to reach out. Only the finest artists are able to convey such emotional renderings.” She lifted her arm, her finger hovering over the face of a woman shackled to a cross.

“I don’t think the majority of people would appreciate, especially those who see me as a judgmental man myself,” Craze whispered. Her words were stilling to him.

“Judgmental. An interesting word and you’re wrong. The paintings are a very telling statement as to the intimate, yet locked away, aspect we all endure.”

Endure. The word was intriguing and very much the way he grasped life. He endured his position of leadership, going through every day as required. “Painting frees me.”

She nodded, sipped her wine and looked away. “Are they… are they women you’ve been with?”

Craze moved behind her, placing his hand on her hip. “No other woman has ever been here, nor has any lover or girlfriend known the man inside.”

“You say the words as if a submissive is very different, as if the dark and light side of you will never co-exist.”

The very thought had entered his mind over the last two days. Could he enjoy a romantic and very vanilla relationship with someone he longed to shackle and enslave? The answer was daunting. “I’ve never attempted. In truth, I’ve never found anyone I wanted to share this side of my world with. Until now.”

Joelle shuddered. “Why me?”

“Because there’s a spark about you, a marveling ability to allow me to be myself.”

She shot him a look. “That’s only part of the reason.”

How was she able to see past his bullshit? The question he knew the answer to instinctively. “Because you’re the woman I want to own. I’ve already told you that.”

“What does ownership mean to you?” She continued to sip her wine, her eyes darting back and forth. When he didn’t answer right away, she moved to another picture.

He could see the sheen of perspiration covering her face. Excitement bristled in every cell, heightening his intense desires, yet he kept his distance. “Everything. I want to own every part of a woman. Her heart. Her body. Her will. Her very soul.”

She closed her eyes, swaying back and forth to the music.

He wanted this moment to last, was terrified to scare her away, but he couldn’t hold back any longer. After taking a gulp of his wine, he set his glass down and advanced. He took her hand, leading her away from the picture and to another, gently taking the crystal from her hand. He kept his eyes on her as he eased it to the table. Gingerly he brushed the hair back from her face, wrapping his hand around her golden locks. “What do you see?”

She breathed in and out, her chest heaving. When she spoke, her voice was husky. “Ecstasy.”

Craze glanced at the piece. The gothic rendering had taken him months to finish. Everything about the painting was stark, light and dark fusing into a world of gray. The woman was outside, tied to a tree, her arms and legs splayed. Wolves remained in the shadows, waiting for a feast. A man stood behind her, dressed in black, his face masked. In his hand, he held a bullwhip. Red, the only color appearing on the piece, was from the bloody marks crisscrossing nearly every inch of her naked body. “Power.”

“Freedom,” she whispered.

“And so, it begins.”

Joelle slumped against his chest, her hand flitting over her mouth.

Pulling her back by her hair, he turned her around, forcing her back into a deep arc. “The things I will show you will remain in your mind forever.” There was no asking if she wanted this. There was no need.

She nodded once and placed her fingers against his chest.

“Yes. You know exactly what I mean.” Taking both of her hands, he eased backwards out of the room. As he walked to the playroom, one he’d known in his heart he would never share on a permanent basis, his adrenaline skyrocketed. This was exactly where he needed to be and the woman he simply had to dominate. He flipped on the light and the warm glow highlighted the various pieces, apparatuses he’d acquired over the last few years.

“The paintings,” Joelle whispered.

“Yes, my inspiration.”

“These are…”

“Implements of pain as well as pleasure. I’ve taken a great deal of time researching my craft. Now, you need to understand the rules.” Craze kept his voice even.

“Rules?” Her expression was one of defiance.

He slid his hand around her neck, tugging her until she was forced to look at him. “There are always rules. You’ve already learned what happens if you break them.”

“Yes, sir.” Her hand trembled in front of her, but she remained rebellious, her body wriggling in his grasp.

A moment of raw excitement swept through his system. He exhaled, allowing his hot breath to cascade across her face and neck. Reaching inside her dress, he squeezed her breast roughly, pulling on her nipple. He kept his grip on her neck, digging his nails into her skin. Control. Keep control.

“Oh!” She panted, her eyes opening wide. While there was fear given her stance, her body shifted forward.

“You want more, don’t you, sunshine? You need more?” He chuckled darkly and tugged the dress down past her shoulders. “Discipline. Obedience. These are two words you’re going to come to crave.”

Joelle mewed as the dress was stripped from her body. “Please sir. I can do it. I can… I…” Her words trailed off as she fiddled with the front clasp of her bra, lowering her head as she peeled off the satin covering.

He drank her in, every inch of her delicious frame, her creamy skin. His paintings paled in comparison to the woman standing in front of him. There was no possibility he could adequately emulate her beauty. She was hesitant because of her displeasure with herself. No man had truly appreciated the utter perfection. He would do his best to change the ugly reflection of herself. “Leave on your stilettos. They accentuate your long legs, the exquisite line of your calf muscles.”

“Yes, sir.” When she was naked she walked closer, lifting her head high. She held an air of forced confidence.

“You are breathtaking. Show me that you know.”

Her face pensive, she eased her hands by her side, but her hands remained clenched.

Craze exhaled, longing to beat the last man who’d inflicted pain. He closed the distance. “Hear me. You are sensuous, beautiful and very intelligent. You are also passionate and your desire is perhaps one of the most enticing aspects about you.”

Giving him a half smile, Joelle looked away.

“No. Hear my words.” He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lowered his head, kissing her lips in a soft yet still demanding way.

Quivering, she moaned and when he released her, she looked taller, her expression laced with a touch of arrogance.

“Excellent, my sweet submissive. Eyes lowered. Stay where you are.” Craze had no total understanding of what he was doing, nor had he realized the magnitude of his actions. This was a defining moment. He’d never be able to enjoy vanilla sex again.

She did as she was told, her body more relaxed than before.

As he walked around her in a full circle, he studied every inch of her body, gleaning what he knew to be her vulnerable locations. His breathing remained ragged. He was seeing a virgin canvas, her skin unblemished by tattoos or piercings. Her nipples were rosy, her breasts full. He adored her thin waist and her rounded hips, her long legs and toes painted crimson red, the color a vibrant contrast to her conservative life. He didn’t need to know what she did to realize she hid herself behind crisp suits and starched shirts.

She bit her lower lip as her body swayed.

While she kept her stance, Craze could tell she longed to reach out. Exhaling, he rubbed his hand up and down every inch of her body, paying special attention to her shoulders, the area under her full breasts. He cupped both, caressing as he brushed the tips of his thumbs across her nipples until they were hard, the rose intensifying in color.

A single moan escaped her mouth.

Craze rubbed his palms down the length of her back, kneading the skin just above her ass. “Bend over and open your ass cheeks for me.”

She sniffed as she narrowed her eyes, her breath skipping.

“The belt awaits any infraction.”

“Yes, sir.” The words were said with a hint of arrogance, but she acquiesced, bending over, her slender hands parting her ass cheeks.

“Legs wider.”

A tense breath escaped her lips as she obeyed the command.

Craze was so turned on, his cock aching to the point he was having difficulty seeing clearly. He placed two fingers into his mouth, sucking on the long digits. He kept his fingers in his mouth, sucking as he used a single finger of his other hand, trailing a line down her spine. The touch was kinetic, the effect simultaneous. They were both wet with need.

Shuddering, she nearly tumbled over, one hand touching the floor. After moving back into position, she resumed her stance, pulling until her rosy hole was exposed.

He removed his fingers and glared at the wetness in the dim lighting. “Did you enjoy me fucking you in the ass?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, because that’s where whores should be fucked. You’re going to wear a plug from now on when you’re not with me. Do you understand?”

Joelle flipped her head, trying desperately to look at him. “Yes. I mean…”

Crack!

He knew the single hard snap was enough. “You will. I need your asshole large and ready for use any time I desire, whether cock or fist.” His left leg was twitching, creating friction in his groin as he slid his wet fingers down the crack of her ass. When he reached her asshole, he showed no mercy, shoving both in as deep as possible.

“Oh God!” Joelle’s body jerked, but to her credit she kept her cheeks open.

“Tight. Hot. Just the way I prefer my sweet submissive.” The dirty words were something he’d never said to another. With Joelle, they were exactly what he wanted to say, what she needed to hear. He flexed his fingers open, thrusting them harder and faster into her sweet hole. His heart racing, he grabbed her around the neck, keeping her steady as the actions grew more frenetic.

Beads of perspiration dribbled down from the back of her neck onto her face. She continued moaning as she was finger fucked and a tight smile remained on her serene face.

The moment continued, a simple act to ease her fears, to ignite his passions.

“We’re going to exchange phone numbers and any time I text, you’ll do exactly what I tell you, no matter where you are. No matter what you’re doing,” Craze whispered.

“Oh God, yes.”

“Good girl.” Removing his fingers, he guided her toward one of his most prized possessions. The ‘X’ cross was sterling in composition and gleamed in the amber light. “One day you’ll beg me to be attached, to take the whip. One day, you’ll understand the woman you can be.” He wanted nothing more than to shackle her arms and legs, drag out the quirt, a piece he’d purchased only two months before. The whip was the perfect round of punishment, a leather reminder of a submissive’s place.

“Yes. Yes, I want and I…” Joelle shook her head, a nervous laugh slipping past her lips.

“Soon my sub, soon.”

Her look remained one of defiance. “What if I can’t?”

“You already are.”

The words hung in the air.

Craze continued the tour, describing exactly what every apparatus would do. With every passing minute he could tell how excited she’d become. The delicious scent of her feminine wiles wafted between them. When he stopped them in front of the spanking horse, he wrapped his fingers around hers, squeezing. “This one will be something you learn well, my dear.” Placing her hand on the smooth wooden surface, he nuzzled into her neck, licking the base of her earlobe. His whisper was subtle. “For bad little girls.”

“Oh, Craze. I mean, sir, I am undisciplined.” Her laughter held a lilt, her body stance tilting forward. She wanted to learn more.

He bent her over temporarily, holding her in position as he rubbed her ass. Her pussy lips were peeking out, swollen with need. In his mind, he could envision caning them until they were red, raw and swollen, then fucking her ruthlessly. Exhaling, he tried to maintain control as he drove all four fingers inside of her pussy. Instantly her muscles clamped onto the tight invasion, drawing him in deeper.

“Yes, oh yes, sir.”

“Such a good girl, one in need I can see.” His eyes were stinging from sweat trickling down his forehead. He was on edge, his blood pressure skyrocketing. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to shove away the increasing abhorrent thoughts, and continued pumping. The sound of her pussy lips sucking on his fingers solicited powerful, evocative sensations.

She met every hard thrust as she arched her back, her face pinched with desire.

He blinked, trying to focus as his thoughts turned sadistic, his need to hurt her enveloping his system. Backing away, he removed his fingers as he dragged her off the bench and over to face him. He swiped his fingers across the seam of her lips, pushing them just inside. “Suck your sweet juice. Lick my fingers clean.”

Purring, Joelle slid both of her open hands up the length of his arm, gently taking his fingers into her mouth. She moaned as she sucked, her tongue wiggling back and forth.

Fuck her. Use her. She belongs to you. The words whispered into the back of his mind were ones he’d dreamt of saying for as long as he could remember. He narrowed his eyes and dragged his fingers down between her breasts. This was a defining moment. “Make certain they’re clean.” He pinched one nipple then the other, twisting until she whimpered. “I can’t wait until you’re clamped.”

“Mmm.”

After a few seconds, he grunted and stepped away, reaching down and taking her into his arms.

She seemed surprised. Her actions tentative, she wrapped her arm around his neck.

He walked into the makeshift bedroom, one only used after long nights of painting. Every move deliberate, he peered down at her, his expression controlling. Laying her down in the middle, he leaned over, whispering, “Kneel, arms down, palms facing up.”

“Yes, sir.” Joelle rose into position. Her lower lip remained quivering, her eyes never leaving his face.

There was no doubt she longed to touch him. He gazed down at her for a full minute before he touched the side of her face, grazing his thumb across her lips. He very much wanted to be the man she needed. “My beauty.”

“Your whore.”

“You are my whore, nothing but.” The words were exactly what he wanted to hear. He undressed slowly, a heated need furrowing into his system. When he was naked he closed the distance, his cock throbbing in anguish. Just thinking about whipping her, tying her down made him hard. Seeing her voluptuous body, her swollen nipples, he was in absolute agony.

“May I suck you, sir?”

Craze was ready to answer when the light of the afternoon sun sent a shimmer across her face, illuminating her porcelain skin. Exhaling, he leaned over the bed, pushing her down and scooting her up further onto the bed. Gripping her legs, he wrapped both up and over his shoulders, impaling her with the entire length of his cock. Whore. She’s just a whore. He groaned. Not today.

“God!” She kneaded his arms as he used his upper body strength to rise onto his hands.

Lowering his head, he brushed his lips across hers. “Beautiful, but willful.”

“Yes, I know,” Joelle whispered as she cupped his chest.

“And you’re all mine.”

Chapter 7

“Ms. Parker. I have the information you requested.”

You’re just a whore. You’re a slut. You belong to him, to the one man who knows you, hungers for you.

“I’m sorry?”

“The information?”

Joelle looked up from her computer screen, the same one she’d been staring at for the past hour or more. “Oh, yes. Thanks, Betsy. You can just leave them on my desk.” Why was she so antsy? As she wiggled in her chair she was reminded clearly. The thick butt plug she was required to wear was one reason. The other was that today was Thursday and other than a few texts checking if she was following the rules, she’d heard nothing from Craze. Maybe he was no longer interested. Why hadn’t he called? She kept the hiss she longed to erupt buried inside. They weren’t dating. They were fucking and little else. The something else continued to terrify and tempt her.

“Can do.” Betsy placed the stack of folders on her desk and started to turn around then stopped.

“Is there something else?”

“Just that you seem very preoccupied lately. Are you worried about the case?”

“The case?” She should be. Mr. Walter Martin’s alibis were rock solid. There was no way he could have sliced and diced three women and be in another city at the same time. What was she missing?

Betsy nodded. “I’ve never seen you so, well, nervous I guess.”

Joelle rubbed her tired eyes and sat back in her seat. “I’m just not sleeping well. I admit I’ll be glad when this is over.”

“He’s guilty you know.”

She smiled. Her assistant was tenacious, doing everything she could to get ahead in the firm. The woman stayed late, went to every criminology class she could register for, and generally sucked up to the powers that be. She’d also followed along with this case in particular, helping Joelle locate witnesses and other evidence. Too bad the evidence wasn’t adding up. She had a week to pull everything together. “You’re so certain?”

“I am,” Betsy said defiantly.

“All right. I’ll bite. Talk to me.”

She sat down in the chair slowly, a wry grin on her face. “Do you remember when you talked with the family of the first victim, Rena Showalter?”

“Vividly. They had no desire to talk with me.”

“Did you ever wonder why?”

Joelle narrowed her eyes. She could tell by the very intriguing look on Betsy’s face the girl was hiding something. “Of course. Go on.”

“Well it took me a little while to figure out, but I managed to sift through lots of bullshit, finding out Rena’s daddy has direct connections to Mr. Martin.”

“Connections?” They’d checked and rechecked everything, trying to make any connection. Mr. Martin was, on paper, an upstanding citizen.

“Yep,” Betsy cooed, her head bobbing up and down. “You see, about twenty years ago they were in business together and from what I’ve been able to determine, a bit shady if you know what I mean.”

As Joelle thought about the information, she realized the one thing Mr. Martin couldn’t have was any dirty laundry hanging over him, especially since he had aspirations of running for Congress, some said the White House. “This is documented?”

Betsy grinned and pulled the bottom folder from the pile. “You bet and I’m not there yet, but I think the families of the other victims have the same association.”

“Holy shit. If you’re right, then this is nothing more than a blood bath to keep the families quiet. You’re freaking brilliant!”

Beaming, Betsy smoothed down her skirt. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

Joelle rose from her chair. Instantly the thick plug made her cringe. “Girl, if this pans out, I’m not going to just be happy. I’ll make sure you get that promotion you’ve been pining away for.”

“Really?” she squealed.

“You bet. We have a hell of a lot of work to do and not much time.” She grabbed the file. “I think I need to pay another visit to the Showalter family. Keep digging.”

“Can do!”

Joelle grabbed her purse and keys, her phone last and headed out the door. “Shit.”

“Did you forget something?”

“Just a quick phone call I have to make.” Why did her voice sound so sheepish? Because you’re a whore, a submissive who has duties. Suddenly, the room was stifling.

“No problem. I’ll see what I can find. When you get back I’ll be ready to strategize.” Betsy moved toward the door then turned her head, giving a ruthless grin. “By the way, Gregory Brentwood left you another message.”

“Ignore him. I’ll talk to him when we get into court.” Finding out she was up against the asshole once again hadn’t made her day.

“He was insistent, almost threatening. Kind of an arrogant jerk. Isn’t he? But he certainly thinks you’re going to fall at his feet.”

Joelle laughed. “Never. He could be the last man on earth and I’d kick him in the nuts.”

“Good girl. I just adore working with you.”

Threatening? Gregory certainly thought highly of himself. Just another reason she was going to win the case. Hell, yes. Exhaling, she waited until Betsy walked out of the room then unlocked her iPhone. She flipped to her text page.

I’m leaving for an appointment, sir.

The rules to text Craze when she arrived and when she left was a daunting practice, but she hadn’t failed as of yet. For some reason, she had a feeling he’d know if she failed.

She waited for a full two minutes, as if he’d answer then shoved her phone into her purse. There was a hell of a lot of work to accomplish in a short period of time, but she was determined to take the asshole down.

* * *

Craze’s phone buzzed. He looked down at the glowing screen and smiled. She seemed to enjoy following his very simple rules. He fingered the screen, moving to her text and a shiver trickled down his spine. He was immediately hard, longing to have her right here, in the middle of his office. Sadly, she could never know the real man. Ever.

I’m leaving for an appointment, sir.

He lifted his finger, ready to answer her when his door was pushed open. “Don’t you knock?” Giving Mark an angry glare, he set his phone down. His lovely submissive was going to have to wait.

“Someone has been sniffing around in Mr. Martin’s past,” Mark said as he slumped into the seat in front of Craze’s desk.

“You find that surprising, why?”

“You don’t understand. I mean really delving into the past, all the nooks and crannies, perhaps finding secrets like the ones we all have buried deep within our lives.”

He shook his head. Of course, he knew the reason why Mark was partially directing his comment toward him—Trent’s threat remained lurking in the shadows. He’d received two calls from the mystery man and Craze knew the clock was ticking on both his decision and the threat to expose his tryst with Anastasia. He’d decided he was going to call her tonight, warn her of possible impending doom. He had no other choice.

There was also a second reason. The guy was his buddy, having shared many years together outside of work, but the kink he kept away from his vanilla world entirely. Still, with the admittance of his dark affair with Anastasia, Mark had begun to ask more questions. Was he seeing someone else? Was he frequenting BDSM clubs? At least he could answer half correctly. No one would ever know about his needs, his hunger to humiliate, own, and require various sexual needs from a woman. “Who and what did they find out?”

“Someone from the prosecutor’s office and honestly, I don’t know what they found yet, but I’m trying to sneak my way into learning.”

“Great. So you know bupkis then?”

“Oh, come on. You and I both know Mr. Martin has a past life. That’s been all over the news in the recent months,” Mark chortled.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make him a killer any more than the fact you used to streak in college. Now does it?”

Mark flushed. “You’re a bastard at times.”

Craze grinned. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.” He sat back, thinking about what he’d long suspected about the solid businessman with his sights set on being the next President of the United States. The rumors about Mr. Martin running for Congress could place him in a difficult position. If Craze announced his candidacy before the trial, he would have pressure to recuse himself from the case. If he waited until after and if the man was found guilty, peers and enemies would say he’d high-jacked the case to eliminate his competition. He was in a no-win situation. Very interesting.

“Very much so. I know you have an idea about this guy. What are you thinking? Maybe I can run interference and try and find out the same information.”

“I’m thinking organized crime, but a long time ago. Mr. Martin’s records have been gone through with a fine toothcomb. He’s clean.”

“He’s squeaky clean and you know what that means.” Mark’s eyes flashed.

“He’s guilty as hell. The question is, why risk everything to kill those women?”

“Maybe he hired someone to do the wretched deed.”

Craze nodded. “My guess is that he did. He wouldn’t get his hands dirty, but why now? There has to be a reason.”

“That’s why you have a crack investigator on your team.”

“Who would that be?”

Mark rose to his feet. “Son of a bitch, bastard is more like the word for you.”

“I don’t think there is such a thing. Might want to check,” Craze snarked as he grinned. The information was damn interesting. If he could get the asshole off the street, clean up a litany of organized crime without being accused of duplicity, he might have a clean slate come election day. Yep, his stepping stones to power and fame just might be in his sights. Still, there were too many lose ends.

Mark pointed at his watch. “I don’t have to remind you how high the stakes are.”

“No, you don’t. Those stakes are also pointed and ready to kill. Just a few more days and I’ll make my decision.” Craze was exhausted from the bantering.

“I’m worried since we have heard jack shit from Trent.”

“I called the Times. He’s away on assignment.” He wasn’t certain whether to believe the information.

“That terrifies me even more,” Mark growled. “I’ll stop pestering you. Drinks later?”

He thought about Joelle. He needed to see her tonight. His cravings had increased to the point he was ready to lose control. “Not tonight. I have a few things to do that don’t involve being pestered.”

“Uh-huh. You’re such a ball buster. That leggy blond, eh?”

“Very funny.” Craze pulled his phone closer. “Incidentally, who are the attorneys on the case?”

“Um, Gregory Brentwood and Martha Parker.”

“Mr. Brentwood is an arrogant ass. The case should be interesting. Martha. Never heard of her, but I can admit that I hope she is damn good at her job. Brentwood could be taken down a peg or two.” What he knew about the prosecuting attorney’s office was that they hired crack attorneys, snapping them up from Harvard and Yale before anyone else had an opportunity. The battle would be fascinating.

“I’ll find out what I can since I’m in investigative mode.”

“You just do that.” Craze laughed as Mark walked out, and grabbed his phone. He had enough time tonight to play. He’d make time.

Be at my place tonight at seven. Wear purple. No bra. No panties and don’t be late or your ass will pay.

Hitting send he shivered. He needed her more than ever.

* * *

Joelle heard her phone blip just as she reached the Showalter’s house. She resisted looking and cut the engine. Someone was home judging by the light in the front room. This wasn’t going to be easy. The family had all but thrown her out the last time.

Easing out of the car, she shut the door and looked around at the neighborhood. The area was decidedly middle class, but well kept. The murdered girl had been in her early twenties, home from college for barely a week when she was killed after leaving a club, her body ceremoniously dumped next to a construction dumpster. The killer had wanted her body to be found.

She shuddered thinking about the gruesome photographs as she walked to the door. After knocking several times, she stood back and waited.

Mrs. Showalter opened the door. “Yes?” When she recognized Joelle, she shook her head. “I can’t talk to you. You need to leave.”

“Can’t or won’t because you’ve been threatened?” When the aging woman’s eyes opened wide, she knew she’d hit the mark. “I can help you. I can protect you if only you’ll allow me.”

“No one can help my family, not even God.”

“Please. Think of your daughter,” Joelle insisted. She kept her look peaceful, even comforting. “Mrs. Showalter, you know this is the right thing to do.”

Mrs. Showalter hesitated a few seconds before opening the door. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Just trust me. I’m here to help take down your daughter’s murderer.”

* * *

What Joelle had learned in two hours was astounding and certainly enough to solidify her case against Mr. Martin. Granted, the pieces would be tough to put together, but she was now confident a week was enough to build the rest of an airtight case.

She was giddy when she sat back down in her car. She thought about the next steps then remembered her text. Yanking out her phone she read the words and fingered the screen before looking at her watch. It was nearly six. “Shit.”

She started the engine and dialed Betsy, getting her voice mail. “Betsy, you’re definitely on the right track. I can’t come back to the office but we’ll get together first thing in the morning. Make certain you keep this on the down-low. If anyone finds out what we’re attempting to do, I have no doubt everything you’ve found will be eliminated.” There was just enough time to race back to her house, find something purple and drive to Craze’s studio. Did she even own anything purple?

Groaning, she headed home, eyeballing her closet in her mind. Nothing. She didn’t own purple. Who owned purple?

As she drove she tried to figure out if there was any store close enough she could dash in and find something. The moment she noticed a Ross in a strip mall she jerked into the parking lot, stopping the car quickly. By the time she made it into the store, she was panting, her heart racing. Why did this man have such a tremendous effect?

You want him. You crave him. You need to submit to him.

She growled and headed for the women’s department. Five minutes later and three purple dresses in her hand, she took long strides toward the cash register. Patience wasn’t her virtue and the cashier seemed to have zero care. When her turn came, she slapped the dresses on the counter, yanking out her wallet. “Hurry. Please.”

“Hot date?” the kid asked, a sly look on his face. He didn’t pick up the pace.

“You have no idea.” By the time the kid had finished, Joelle was fit to be tied. She grabbed the bag and raced out into the parking lot. There was no doubt she broke at least two laws on her way to her house, but she refused to disobey her sir. Master? No, she wasn’t ready to use such a magnanimous word yet.

Within minutes she was dressed. She caught a glance of her reflection and gasped. Where had the professional woman gone? In her place was a garish hooker, one prepared for a night of sleazy sex, complete domination.

Joelle turned off the bathroom light and walked into her kitchen, eyeing the open bottle of wine on the counter. “Half a glass.” For courage? Perhaps. To check her sanity? No doubt. Her feet seemed heavy as she pulled a glass from the cabinet, pouring more than half.

Why are you doing this? Why? You don’t know anything about him. You have no idea if he’s a serial killer or a madman disguising as a sexy, yet disturbed painter.

No, she didn’t, but her instinct was usually spot on. His paintings were such an incredible reflection. Unfortunately, they truly depicted a man close to the edge. She took several gulps and held the glass to her head. The dress wasn’t something she’d ever wear for any reason. Here she was, going to spend an evening with a stranger while she should be working.

She grabbed her purse, almost tossing the contents, and was prepared to text that she couldn’t come. When she read the words again, she moaned. She wanted him. Her body craved him. Her soul had to have what he was offering. Her decision made, she polished off the wine and walked toward the door. Tonight, she was going to find out who he was.

* * *

Craze stood by the window, a stiff scotch in his hand. He checked his watch and knew Joelle would be arriving any minute. Tonight wasn’t about sex, but about discipline. He also wanted to get to know the woman, inside and out. Learning about every vulnerability would help shape her training. He realized he was going to have to let his guard down enough so she trusted him in order to fully submit. The thought was appetizing.

He took a sip and studied the waning early evening light. What he’d had to come to grips with over the last few days was that he wanted her in his life, not just as a sexual partner. Yes, he had to own her, wanted no man to ever touch her again, but he also craved her vivacious and very intelligent wit. He needed deep conversations, hungered to delve into her mind, one as dark as his.

In order to take their relationship to another level, they both had to open up. Relationship. The word usually terrified him. Every other woman, with the exception of Anastasia, had ended what they’d shared abruptly. While there had been various reasons, he knew the moment he’d allowed them inside, a glimpse of his very soul, they’d been horrified. Joelle was different. She required seeing the ugliness encapsulating him. She needed to have all of him, which would allow her to let go.

As he thought about the only woman who’d allowed him to delve into the darkness, he groaned. Anastasia had a right to know. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number, half hoping he’d reach her answering machine. When she answered, he closed his eyes. “Hi.”

Anastasia hesitated. “Craze? Is everything alright?”

“The truth is I am calling to warn you.”

“Warn. That sounds much more ominous than normal, darling. Do tell.”

Craze rubbed his jaw and opened his eyes to glare out at the city. “There is a reporter threatening to expose us.”

“Us? I didn’t realize there was an ‘us’,” she chortled.

“The kink. He has pictures.”

She exhaled then purred into the phone. “Perhaps there are things you should know about me.”

He listened to her as she spun a tale of power. She was indeed the formidable woman he’d come to know and care about. When he finished the conversation, he was no longer afraid of what Michael Trent could do. Tonight, he could forget the other man, as well as his concerns. Tonight, he was merely a Dom. Darkness crept into his mind, a tasty and burning desire fueled by the very thought of a vibrant blonde.

Sighing, he tapped his fingers against the window. How much he was going to tell Joelle about his real life he wasn’t certain. He took another sip before checking his watch. The time was five after seven. A hint of disappointment, bridging anger rushed into his system. How dare she be late? Strict discipline was needed. He rubbed his temples, soothing his beast. He was unraveling to the point he wasn’t certain he’d maintain needed control.

Seconds later he heard her light knock. He waited for a full minute before walking to the door.

“You’re late.”

Joelle swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. Traffic.”

“I don’t care. You’ll soon learn being tardy will bring you severe punishment.” Craze pulled her inside and against him. “Obedience I demand.”

“Yes, sir.”

He yanked back his frustration. She would learn the rules soon enough. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you, sir.” Joelle half smiled.

“But that doesn’t excuse your late arrival.”

She bit her lip. “I know. I was running late, working and I lost track of time. No excuse. Time just rushed by today.”

Craze exhaled as he studied her. The once powerful vixen seemed demure tonight, resigned to the fact she was going to be punished. After closing and locking the door, he turned to face her, remaining quiet for a full minute. “We all have requirements in our lives, duties. Right now, your duty is to serve me. Understood?”

“I want nothing more, sir.”

“I want to get to know you, enjoy dinner.”

Her look was one of relief.

“Let’s get your punishment over with so we can enjoy the rest of our evening.”

“Sir, I…” Joelle fidgeted, dropping her purse.

“Once I punish you the incident is over. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The look of heated anticipation was exhilarating. “Remove your dress. I assume you followed my directions?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good girl.” Craze walked toward the couch, picking up the quirt. He turned and showed her what he held in his hand. “This is used to control horses. This will be used to whip your ass and legs. Are you wearing your plug?”

“Yes. I do try to obey you,” she whispered as she walked further into the room. Her eyes flashed, showing her willful side.

“Then I suggest you undress or I’ll add ten more to the twenty you’re going to receive.” He’d calculated what he thought she could handle. The session would stretch her trust as well as her desire.

Shivering, Joelle closed her eyes and slowly removed her dress.

There was something so incredible about her naked luscious curves, her hourglass figure. He could tell she remained embarrassed about her body, as if no man had ever taken the time to expound on her beauty. She was such an assertive woman by day and a girl who needed a strong man by night. “Come. Lean over the back of the chair.”

She nodded and kept her eyes lowered as she moved past him, leaning over the soft leather.

“Show me your plug.”

Dropping her head, she used both hands to open her ass cheeks.

The bright red rubber end was exposed easily. Craze smiled, his heart racing. She belongs to you. Dear God, his head was spinning. “Good girl.” He fingered the leather before walking behind her. He rubbed her back, his fingers working delicately until her breathing slowed. “This will hurt, but you’re going to maintain your position. Am I clear?”

“Very, sir.”

“All women need a firm hand, you included. When you relinquish control, you regain what you lost a long time ago.” In his element, he heard the crisp sound of his voice, the stern and very commanding tone. She required no less.

Crack!

“Oh!” Biting back a scream, she dug her nails into the top of the chair as she reared up.

“Position.”

Pop! Whap!

“Fuck… I…” Joelle moaned, her entire body shaking. “I just…”

He peppered four more strikes, catching the top of her thighs. He’d practiced, knew his strength and had developed a technique. This wasn’t by any means a harsh punishment. Salivating, he retreated for a moment, the need to issue harsh strikes catching him off guard. She wasn’t used to this and she required time, trust. Careful. Be careful.

Crack! Crack! Slap!

With each snap of his wrist, he watched her reaction, stopping after a few to soothe the woman he cared about. The thought riveting, he wiped sweat from his forehead and continued.

Joelle whined, pushing back from the chair. “I’m sorry, sir. I…” Breathless, she stumbled forward, throwing herself over the top.

In the dim lighting, he was able to see tears slipping past her lashes. The man inside slammed against the sadist, and for a few seconds he was blinded, unsure of what to do. Use her. Fuck her. Use her. Beat her. He clenched his fist, gritting his teeth. Sweat rolled down his back. “A few more. You’re doing well.”

Crack!

Barely two minutes later he was done. Done. He wanted to issue more. God help me.

“Oh.” Joelle whimpered softly.

Standing back, Craze eyed the quirt, panting as he squeezed the handle.

She slumped down, her whimpers subdued.

Craze carefully placed the implement on the coffee table and gathered her into his arms. “You did so well.” Holding her forehead, he eased her head back against his chest. “Very well, indeed.” His heart was beating as fast as hers and he kissed the side of her face, licking away several tears.

She clung to him, sucking in her breath as she continued to shake.

Craze smoothed down her hair and hummed, the timbre husky as desire remained high. She succumbed to his touch as he cradled her, nuzzling against his chest.

Joelle fingered his shirt, drawing aimless stick figures as she stopped crying.

He waited until her breathing was even before he spoke. “Come and sit down with me. I’ll pour you a glass of wine. It’s all over now. No more tonight.”

Sniffing, she nodded as she was led to the couch. She sat down gingerly, folding her legs under her. She winced, giving him a weak smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome.” A euphoric high swept through every inch of him and as he walked toward the open bottle, he took a moment to control his breathing. His reaction was unexpected. This was unlike the other nights. This was pure punishment, total control.

And she wanted more.

Craze poured a glass, reflecting on how they met, and prayed their connection was more than just physical. Everything about this was reckless. “I think you’ll like the wine.”

“I’m sure I will, sir.” She accepted, giving him a waning smile, and took a sip. “Mmm.”

“Excellent. This is one of the wines I fell in love with the last time I went to my favorite vineyard.”

“You’re a wine lover?”

“Very much so,” he laughed as he sat down. “I enjoy all things beautiful, full of flavor.” Taking her hand, he kissed her fingers one at a time, savoring the way she relaxed, her shoulders less tense.

“A complex man, my sir.”

“As you are a woman.” Craze adored the way she called him ‘sir’. The word was much more natural, easily whispered from her lips.

She exhaled and shook her head. “You’re right. I think everyone has various sides.”

“Ones we’re terrified to show.”

“So true. You’re a painter by hobby. What do you do as a profession, sir?”

He sighed and continued fingering her hand. “Let’s just say I keep the peace.”

“Interesting. So do I, in a way.” Her laugh was genuine, yet her eyes darted back and forth across his face.

“Hmmm. I’d say you were a cop, but the suit I met you in suggests otherwise.” He knew Joelle was searching for more, digging. This was her true nature.

“And I’d say you were a construction worker, but your hands are those of an artist, my sir.”

Craze lifted his glass. “Nicely done. You sound like an attorney.” He noticed the flash in her eyes and wanted to get to know every inch of the lovely lady.

“Why do you say that, sir?”

“Because you have a way about you, observant while keeping a distance.”

Joelle laughed. “I could say that about you as well, sir.”

“You are a very good observer.” He gave her a look.

Shrugging, she remained silent.

“So, we’re at an impasse.”

“For now. I do want to tell you about me, just not yet. Can we leave this as a fantasy for a little while, sir?”

He leaned over until he was barely an inch from her face. “For now. Owning a woman means I need to get to know her, all of her, inside and out. I need to hear about your deepest fears as well as your longings.”

“Why? I mean, why, sir?”

“Why?”

“Why the need?” Joelle asked, her lower lip quivering.

“Because this is the man inside, a part of who I am.”

“One no others are allowed to see, sir?”

Nodding, he sat back and grabbed his drink. He wasn’t surprised she’d been able to see through his mask and he certainly hadn’t left clues, merely opened his padlocked door a crack. “You’re right. I scare them away. For some reason women can’t understand a man being in charge, his desire to command not only the boardroom but his entire life.”

“Equality of the sexes.” The way she said the words was much more pointed.

Craze nodded. “Exactly. We all fear what we’re unaccustomed to. Few of us can take a leap of faith after our twenties. We’re set in our ways, worried about what others will think, no matter how we hunger.” A few seconds passed and he studied her face, her mind processing every syllable, every word, and was more intrigued than ever.

“Then why me, sir?”

“Why you?”

“Why did you take a chance on a woman you don’t know when you’ve been very good at hiding your entire life?”

Inhaling her sweet scent, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face as he thought about his answer. “Because you’ve known me all your life.”

Joelle furrowed her brow, a frown on her face. She looked down for a few seconds and when she lifted her head she nodded once. “As you’ve known me. Ownership. You’re serious, sir?”

“Yes. Complete submission.” The single shiver told him many aspects about the lovely woman including she wanted him to push. Cupping her chin, he squeezed, her single moan telling. “Total domination of you without any question. You will be mine.”

Chapter 8

You will be mine. Shivering, the words lingered in the back of Joelle’s mind and had been since the night he’d issued them. He’d stated the words before, but this time they held more of a desperate need, a true telling of his requirement. She stood in front of her bathroom mirror, glaring at her reflection. “Craze.” Just saying his name out loud was intense enough. Her body reacted to every thought, every memory, keeping her hot and wet, her mind befuddled. Today she simply couldn’t afford to be anything but spot on. She’d worked too hard on the case. The illustrious Mr. Martin was going to be convicted of murder. Period.

Her thoughts drifted to Craze once again, the last conversation they’d had. She’d wondered more than once what he did for a living. She’d deduced he was a professional, an engineer or accountant. No, he had far too much flair and imagination to be an accountant. What if he was also an attorney? Gripping the counter, she exhaled slowly, her instinct kicking in. His face. She had seen him before, maybe. But where? “Oh, no fucking way.” She had zero time to contemplate the possibilities.

Why the hell hadn’t she required him to give her his real name? The same reason you didn’t give him yours. “Ugh.” A quick glance at her phone and she couldn’t help but wonder where he was, what he was doing. They’d kept in contact, but she purposely had pushed him off, giving her work schedule as an excuse. Granted, she’d told him everywhere she’d gone. His texts had been short and to the point

Are you wearing your plug?

Are you being a good girl?

Fuck your ass tonight with a large dildo, going very deep.

No playing with my pussy.

The words always gave her a thrill, a deep tingling in her pussy. A good girl? She was anything but, and longing to have another session with him. Her ass had healed from the last spanking and she craved another, one much harder. A bead of perspiration trickled down the side of her face. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes, remembering the way he’d touched her, the way his firm grip gave her such a freeing feeling. The last time he’d fucked her, a surprise in the shower, he’d been rougher than before, bending her over and thrusting his cock into her asshole.

The pain had been blinding and incredible. Joelle wiped the salty drip away and leaned over panting. She could still hear her moans as he pumped his dick in and out, unrelenting, his balls slapping against her bruised ass. She gripped the sides of the counter, jutting her hips out as she imagined him lifting her skirt, slapping her ass over and over again.

You belong to me.

You’re mine.

No other man will touch you.

The words remained as a reminder. Lifting her head, she unbuttoned her blouse, exposing the top of her right breast. The bite mark remained. He’d drawn blood, sucking the wound as well as her nipple as he thrust his cock into her pussy. Shivering, she had no idea why she was so attracted to the intense and very mysterious stranger, but their electricity was increasing.

Joelle exhaled and fingered the mark before pushed the top of her bra past her nipple. Another bite remained around her rosy bud, another placed on her left. Along with the belt marks that had faded, he’d certainly marked his territory.

After the trial there was no holding back. She was going to call him, beg him to fuck her. The realization was startling. After a few more seconds she buttoned her blouse and rose to her full height. Today, she was an attorney.

Exhaling, she counted to ten and fell into the role. She had everything she needed to win this case, absolutely everything. Now, she just needed to put all the pieces together.

She gave herself a reflective nod and glanced at her attire. The suit was just an off shade of red, enough so the piece wasn’t glaring, but certainly powerful. Everyone in the courtroom was going to know she was taking command. There was enough bad press already, so today was all about being as cool as a cucumber.

“You can do this.” Winking, she pointed her index finger. “You will do this. Your entire team is counting on you.” She took a step back, smoothing down her skirt, giving herself a final nod of approval before heading out of the bathroom. A cold shiver trickled down her spine. Her instinct terrified her. What if he was a second defense attorney? She’d been told there was a team. Jesus Christ. What if? If this were the case, she’d deal with the ugliness then. There was nothing she could do now. She was going to have a tough enough time working against the diligent but vile Mr. Brentwood.

She gripped the sink, not surprised she heard her cell phone once again. Gregory had called her twice more, the last call almost disgusting in nature.

“If you don’t return my calls, I’m going to crucify you in court, but there are some things you need to know. I’ve followed you. I know what you’re up to. You will burn.”

The nasty words remained furrowed in Joelle’s mind. What in the hell did Gregory think he knew? She grabbed the phone, ready to give the asshole a defining moment in his career. Seeing Miranda’s number pop up, she frowned. Her bestie knew exactly what was on the line today. Interruptions she loathed. “Miranda. Are you okay?”

“I know you’re headed into court, but there’s something you need to know.”

“What? About the case?” Joelle asked as she studied her lipstick.

“Not exactly. Craze. The name kept rolling around in my mind,” Miranda said, her words rushed.

“And?”

Miranda huffed. “I’ve figured out who he is and you’re not going to believe it.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later Joelle stood outside the courtroom. She remained nervous as well as curious to see if her instincts were right and if Miranda was out of her mind. This wasn’t what she’d expected to hear but the information fit the man, confirming her suspicions. She’d concocted her own puzzle, adding Gregory’s supposed scandalous information into the mix. Still, she was fumbling to put the damning bits into a box to deal with later, but could she? That was the problem. If the truth had been uncovered, she had a tough decision to make. Tough? This might be career defining. Right now, she wanted to crush Gregory like a bug.

There was a chance she’d have to recuse herself from the case, allow another attorney to prosecute. Then again, how and what would she tell her boss? She’d insisted she didn’t need any help, abhorred showing up with a full team. Weakness. That’s what she thought several people showed. “Shit.” She glanced at her watch. Stalling wasn’t in her nature. Time to go in and face whatever would come.

Sucking in her breath she opened the door and walked inside. The courtroom was packed. Thank God, reporters weren’t allowed. On the drive over she’d received two calls from Betsy, warning her of her heightened notoriety. The Press continued to use the phrase ‘Come Back Kid’. When this was over, she was going to draft a nasty rebuttal.

She made a beeline for her seat, judiciously easing her files on top of the table. No need to appear ruffled. After scanning the courtroom, and seeing no one she recognized, she breathed a sigh of relief.

You can do this.

She placed her phone on the table, fingering the screen. Just then a text popped in.

Are you hungering for me? Are your panties wet, longing for a hard whipping?

Dear God, not now. Her thoughts drifted and for some reason she could feel the slip of material from her panties in the crack of her ass. She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and sat down, as nervous as she’d ever been. Nonchalantly she scanned every inch of the courtroom again. No Craze.

A few seconds later she breathed out, more determined than ever. If Craze was texting her, then the information from Miranda was most likely dead wrong. She would crush the opposition. This case was a slam-dunk. The churning red flag of worry remained. Stop. You can do this. She plastered on a coy smile as Gregory entered the space.

“Are you ready for my team to eat you alive?” Gregory stood in front of her, his look condescending.

“You know? I realize you want me to stoop to your level, but I don’t need to. You’re a little boy with a small dick and you’re trying to prove yourself. Too bad I don’t give a shit.”

The words hung in the air. If anyone heard them or not, she quite frankly didn’t give a shit. The man was a useless slug. Team. If Gregory’s team member was Craze, she would know she’d been played. Her little voice continued nagging, creating serious doubt. Recusing herself was perhaps the least of her worries. She drifted to their almost open conversation. Craze had been digging, even mentioned he thought she was an attorney. Fuck me. She hated being used.

He leaned over, crowding her personal space. “Trust me, sunshine. You’re going to need my help once the truth is out in the open. Then, you’re going to come crawling to me on your knees.”

Before she had a chance to slap him in the face or even better, kick him in the nuts, she saw Gregory’s acknowledgment of the second attorney. Unable to see his face, she closed her eyes and prayed. Shit. She was flushed and enraged. Not the best way to start a courtroom proceeding. Her hands were shaking as adrenaline kicked in. No, she hadn’t been simply a man’s toy. No fucking way.

She knew his name, had heard about his shark reputation. Ryland Simpson sounded very much like Craze. Dear God, please no.

“Ms. Parker.”

The sound, his sound was in a vacuum, the voice low and husky. Just like Craze’s. No. No. This can’t be happening. Everything was echoing, her pulse racing. Gulping, she turned around—and breathed a sigh of relief. The man standing in front of her was definitely not Craze. Shorter by almost a foot, his voice certainly didn’t match his stature. “Mr. Simpson?”

“Indeed. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t let my rather tenacious partner frighten you. This case will be handled fair and square.” Ryland’s eyes were cold, calculating.

And I’ve heard nothing about you. “You as well. I look forward to working with you.” They shook hands and she muffled a sigh as he walked in front to his desk. Thank you. Thank you. A smile crested her face. The team effort would be interesting. The two men no doubt had something clandestine up their sleeve. Still, neither had anything to do with the man in her life. Now she could get down to business.

* * *

Craze stood in front of the mirror in his office, studying his face. He was clean-shaven. Far too clean shaven in his mind. He longed to be on the bike with Joelle, finding the perfect location for an outdoor beating. He could see her tied to a tree, her lovely body glowing in the sunlight. His cock stiffened as he thought about whipping her, starting with her feet and legs, her stomach and breasts. He exhaled and gave himself a harsh look. “You’re a sick man.” At this point he didn’t care. He needed her as much as she needed him.

Right now, he had a job to do, one he hadn’t been looking forward to. This was perhaps the most defining moment of his career working with the law. He was confident in his decision regarding running. He knew what he was required to do, even if it meant facing his past as well as his indiscretions. He would remain neutral then see where the chips fell. First the battle in the courtroom, then the war.

Groaning, he adjusted his tie, folding down the collar of his pressed white shirt. Grabbing his coat, he thought about the day ahead. This was going to push him to the limits. He had zero tolerance for men like Martin. None. He only prayed to some God the prosecutor had a solid case. Selecting a qualified jury could potentially take days.

As he slipped into the jacket, he heard a knock on the door. “Come.”

“Looking spiffy, my man. You could almost pass.”

“Funny Mark. Is everything set?”

“Yeah. I know I shouldn’t make a judgment call, but I have to tell you, the prosecutor has done an excellent job of putting everything together. The woman had the balls to convince the Showalter family to turn on the ass. From what I’ve heard the stories are going to put Mr. Martin away for a long time.”

“Sounds like a woman I need to employ,” he breathed.

“Or fuck,” Mark chided.

Craze snarled. “You know my tight constraints about mixing business with pleasure.”

“Uh-huh, they keep your dick in need of stroking.” He winked then shook his head. “Rough crowd.”

“Everything else ready?” He chuckled thinking about a woman besting a man like Walter Martin.

“The pool of jurors isn’t entirely what I’d call prime, but I’m certain a solid group will be selected.”

“Martha?” He adjusted his cuffs and buttoned his jacket. Gray wasn’t his color.

“Huh?” Mark asked absently.

Craze shot him a look. “The name of the prosecutor.”

“Oh. Joelle? Yes, she’s really gone all out on this. I honestly don’t have any idea how the defense is going to counter the evidence she’s gathered,” Mark mused. “The guy is guilty as sin. Unfortunately, there are two snakes on the defense team so the day should be full of firecrackers.”

His blood chilled. “I’m sorry, Joelle?”

“Joelle Parker. Remember? I told you about the bitchin’ prosecutor? Not bad on the eyes either. Tall leggy blond.” Mark grinned. “Hey, kinda your type too. Might want to think about stepping outside of your comfort zone, bursting past those strangling rules. Or is dating a sexy attorney really off the docket? Far cry better than dating a Governor’s wife. Sorry, boss. I’ll shut my mouth.”

As Mark laughed, Craze glared at Mark in the mirror, ignoring his comment about Anastasia. His blood was chilled, his heart thumping against his chest. “You said her name was Martha. Martha Parker.” He could hear the over pronunciation in his stilted voice.

“Yes, but she goes by Joelle. What’s the big deal?” Mark narrowed his eyes. “Hold on. Do you know her?”

“No. I was just curious about the name change.” He fiddled with his tie again in an effort to regain his composure. There was no way this was the same girl. None. What if this is? What if this is the woman you sodomized, fucked, used and whipped? The thought left him sweating, beads trickling down the back of his neck.

“Hmmm. Well, you have five minutes.”

Craze swallowed hard. “I know. I’ll be there. I just want to go over my notes.”

“I think you’re in lust with thoughts about the leggy blond, the one with green eyes, a perfect hourglass figure. Mmm. I could go for a sinful tryst right about now.”

“Mark! Let me have a few minutes.”

Mark exhaled as he raised a single eyebrow, tapping his heels together. “Certainly, sir.”

When the door closed he clenched his fists. His Joelle, the woman he couldn’t get out of his mind, had refused to see him over the last few days, saying work had interfered. What if… He pushed the thought aside. He had a job to do and whether or not she was the attorney shouldn’t matter in the least.

He snagged his judicial robe, tossing on the ugly piece, and grabbed his files. After a quick look at his watch he walked out the door and toward the courtroom, hesitating before he made his entrance. Craze closed his eyes when he turned the handle.

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Randolph Mitchell.”

Craze heard the rustle of the crowd as he advanced, refusing to look at the attorneys seated in front of the bench. Only after he settled in did he open his eyes. Oh fuck. His entire career flashed in front of his eyes. Thoughts about their last time together, the way he’d flogged her until she cried, remained burning in the back of his mind. While he registered the lovely woman, one dressed for the kill, in his mind, he couldn’t remember anything else but the time they’d shared together. Her naked body. Her willingness to accept his dark side. The way her face was illuminated in the dim lighting of his playroom.

Crack!

The memory made his skin electrified, his cock harden. She was his. She belonged to him. She was his alone and… Get control. This isn’t your Joelle. No, she was wearing her mask today.

Joelle, his Joelle, the woman he’d told he would own was seated in front of him, barely twenty feet away. He could tell by the shocked look on her face how she felt, the mixed emotions, as well as her heated desire. There was no mistaking what she wanted, her need.

Joelle maintained her composure as she stood, placing her fists on top of the wooden table. Her mouth was pinched, yet her eyes flitted back and forth.

For a few seconds, there was no one else in the room.

I will have you. I will fuck you. I will use you.

Craze sucked in his breath and could swear he was able to detect her perfume, the spicy mix that had driven him crazy. As they locked eyes he knew. This was going to be a difficult case, let alone few days. Now, he had two decisions to make. “Be seated.”

* * *

Joelle couldn’t make it out of the courtroom fast enough. Her mind was reeling, her body shaking all over, and there was no way she was going to be able to continue the case. How could she? She was not only fucking the Judge, but also submitting to him in every dark and vile manner. Everyone had to know they were screwing. They just had to know.

She gulped air and struggled through the crowd of reporters, the men and women who’d nearly camped out at the courtroom doors, hungry to gawk at a man falling from grace. At this point she needed solace, time alone. Keeping her head down, she forged her way through the scores of people and down a flight of stairs, finding the women’s bathroom within a few seconds. She looked over her shoulder and exhaled. Not a soul had seen where she went. Thank God, for small miracles.

The door slammed against the section of chipped tile and she grimaced as she stumbled toward the sink. Dropping her briefcase and purse, the hard thud made her jump. As she gripped the edge she let out a breathy groan. “Oh my God. Oh my fucking God.” How had she managed to keep cool under nearly seven hours of scrutiny, even finalizing a jury in one day? She couldn’t remember half of the comments, or the names of anyone. She hadn’t been able to think about anything but his face, his burning eyes, his dominating look and the way he commanded a room.

Her hand shaking, she fumbled for a full minute before she was able to turn on the faucet, splashing water in her face. The cool liquid did little to calm her nerves. Her pussy was wet, her nipples hard and her skin prickling. Playing with fire would result in flaming out. This was the worst situation to be in. She’d have to recuse herself, but what in the hell could she use as an excuse? Feigning an illness might work. Right. As if she could contract malaria overnight.

Joelle concentrated on controlling her breathing, allowing her heart rate to ease back into some sort of normalcy. A full five minutes later she tilted her head, studying her reflection. She could almost pass for a knowledgeable attorney instead of a hungry, wanton submissive. A smile firmly plastered on her face, she smoothed back the loose strands of hair into her tightly woven bun and walked toward the door.

The second she walked outside, Gregory was there, standing in front of her, a leer on his face.

“Too hot to handle today?” Gregory asked. He laughed and placed his hand on the wall, crossing his legs at his feet. The stance was meant to seem casual, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“What the hell do you want?” she snapped, unable to handle any additional bullshit.

“It’s not what I want, sweet Joelle, it’s about what you need to hear.”

She pushed past him, determined to get away from the slimy asshole.

Gregory grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. “You don’t want to have me as your enemy. I’ve already told you that.”

Rearing back, Joelle stopped herself from slapping him only because there were several people in the hallway. She lowered her voice and smiled. “What. Do. You. Want?”

“I’m giving you a friendly warning. You need to stay away from Judge Mitchell.”

“Why the hell is that?”

“Because things are going to become extremely uncomfortable for him.” Gregory winked.

“What in the hell does that mean?” Joelle hissed and jerked her arm out of his hand. “Tell me.”

Gregory looked from left to right before lowering his head. “His aspirations for Congress are going to go away, but he won’t go down without a scandal. I don’t think you want to be in the center of the mess. Do you?”

She shook her head, trying to put the pieces together. “I’m not playing this game. If you have a warning, with real evidence, show me. Otherwise, get the fuck away from me. Clear enough for you?”

“You’re such a bitch. You want evidence? I’ll show you.” He grumbled as he pulled out an envelope, then a picture from inside. “Here. Take a good look.”

Joelle kept her eyes on his for a full minute. She wasn’t going to allow the pig to see her sweat. When she finally looked down, she blinked and bit back a strangled moan. The picture was not completely in focus and certainly could have been doctored, but the man was Craze and the woman recognizable, but from where? “Okay. What is this?”

“Notice the way he’s touching her. Very intimate. Rumor is they practice BDSM together. I’ve been told there are some scathing pictures. Take a good look at her face.” Gregory was far too happy, his smile broadening.

She looked again, pulling the photograph close to her face. “Is that the Governor’s wife?”

“Ding. Ding. Ding. You win the prize.”

“What are you planning on doing with this?” She gripped the photo, determined to rip the damning piece into bits.

“Tsk. Tsk. I’m not planning on doing anything. This was given to me by a wonderful reporter friend of mine. I asked him to dig up any dirt on my competition.”

“What competition? He’s a judge. You’re…” The words trailed off. Joelle thought about everything she knew. “You’re both running for Congress.”

“You’re such an intelligent girl,” Gregory cooed. “Would you like to have drinks and discuss how famous I’m going to be?”

What she realized is that if Mr. Martin wasn’t prosecuted and made good on his promise of running for Congress he would be competition for Gregory, was this something Gregory knew about? If so, why defend him? Her head ached as her mind reeled. “Over my dead body. Now get the hell out of my way.”

“Aren’t you curious as to why I’m warning you to keep out of the mess?”

She sucked in her breath, calming her nerves. “Okay. Why?”

He pulled another photograph from the envelope. “Because my reporter friend also discovered someone else in Judge Mitchell’s life.”

Joelle didn’t budge, scream, moan, or even threaten his life. She maintained her composure as she was forced to look at the very clear picture of her on the back of the Harley. There was also no mistaking the man driving. “No wonder you threatened me. Are you asking me to drop this case?”

Gregory laughed. “Now, why would I do that? I care about you. That’s all. I want you to have a good shot at winning this case.” His eyes twinkled as he slid the picture back into the envelope and shoved it back into his coat pocket.

She blinked as she thought about the words. Yes, Gregory did know Mr. Martin wanted to run for Congress after he was found innocent. The asshole could kill off two opponents with one horrible scheme. He wanted her to win and would sabotage the case if necessary.

And she’d backed right into every damning aspect.

* * *

Craze was angry, frustrated and had no idea what he was going to do with the case. To have the prosecutor as his submissive would look even worse than the rest of the wretched mess he was already in. What in the hell was he supposed to do?

He wrung his hands and tore off his robe. Right now, the only thing he wanted to think about was talking to Joelle. He had to see her, explain. He hadn’t exactly lied and neither had she, but the ramifications could destroy them both. They’d figure out a plan together. They could work through this.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed his things. He remembered what she drove and was determined to find her either in the hallways or before she was able to drive away, quite possibly out of his life. Taking the back stairs, he managed to avoid the various reporters, who would no doubt have continued to grill him about his candidacy. This wasn’t the time or the place.

After racing outside, he peered over the parking lot, panting as he searched for her car. There were too many people milling about, getting ready to leave for the day. He rushed into the foray, moving up and down the aisles. The moment he spotted what he believed to be her BMW, he noticed Joelle heading in the same direction, her head down. He moved quickly toward her, keeping his eyes on her as she zigzagged through the lines of vehicles.

Joelle dropped her briefcase and fumbled with her purse.

“Dear God.” He rounded the last group of cars and stopped just behind her. “Joelle.”

She froze, her shoulders tense. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to talk to you. You must know that.”

“What I know is that this couldn’t be any worse than it is. You’ve derailed this case and quite possibly my career,” Joelle said, her tone clipped.

“Joelle, I had no idea you were an attorney. I guessed, but what are the odds?” Craze knew the words sounded lame.

Shaking her head, Joelle yanked out her keys. “Yeah. What are those odds? I just happen to be prosecuting a case in which one of the people considering running for Congress is on trial. If I win, poof, one of your competition is gone. I’m easy enough to look up. You had to know who was on this case from minute one. Imagine my surprise in finding out. All the hard work. All the hours spent on this case. You used me. I’m such a fucking fool.”

“No!” Craze flanked her side, preventing her from opening the door. “Competition? I knew Mr. Martin was considering running, but honestly, I have no influence on this case. I can’t. Don’t you know that?”

“Why not recuse yourself? Why allow this to go forward and have any cloud there? Why?” Joelle gave him a hateful look. “Why?”

“My entire career I’ve fought for those who are innocent, making certain they have a fair trial. I pride myself in my work ethics. I’ve never backed down because of controversy. I haven’t made the decision to run yet and in truth, given everything that’s going on with this case, I’m not entirely certain Mr. Martin would have a snowball’s chance in hell even if he was found innocent. I’m certain you of all people can see that.”

Her eyes darted back and forth, never blinking. “That may be true, Judge Mitchell, but fairness, honesty and trust are in the eye of the beholder, trust and respect only given to those who hold themselves in the highest esteem. People like that are difficult to find.”

Craze slumped against the car. The underlying meaning was clear. She wanted nothing to do with him. “Joelle, no matter what happens, please know I didn’t use you. I had no idea who you were. I didn’t hear your full name until today.”

She remained silent, her expression one of hatred. “I don’t believe you, but I do have one more question.”

“Anything and I’m telling you the truth.”

“Are you going to recuse yourself or have you decided not to run for Congress?”

Exhaling, he looked away. Anything he told her wasn’t going to matter. “I’m staying on the case and I haven’t decided whether to run as of yet.”

After a few seconds, she smiled and caressed his cheek, her touch light and delicate. When she dropped her hand, her eyes were filled with sadness. “I believed in you, in us. I thought I’d found everything I’d been looking for my entire life. Instead, I found another lying asshole. Good luck with your campaign and I’ll see you in court, because there is no other place on this earth where you’ll ever see me again.”

Chapter 9

“I’m here with Chunky Monkey ice cream, two bottles of wine, a bag of Doritos and chocolate, as requested. Now are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Weary of crying, Joelle had finally reached out to Miranda, determined to soothe her soul once and for all. “Only two bottles of wine?”

“Okay, I have two more in the car. Jesus. You look like shit,” Miranda huffed as she strolled into Joelle’s condo. “You better be ready to talk.”

“Talking is highly overrated,” she stated as she grabbed the ice cream out of her friend’s hand. She walked with purpose into the kitchen, opening the carton along the way. She pointed to the counter before grabbing two spoons out of a drawer. “Wine opener and glasses are there. That’s your job.” She dug into the gooey mix, shoveling a huge spoonful into her mouth.

“Bossy bitch you are. What is going on?” Dropping the other goodies on the counter, she opened the wine and poured two half glasses.

“Pour them to the rim or bring the bottle,” Joelle said as she grabbed the bags and proceeded to walk back into the living room. She plopped on the couch and placed the ice cream and other treats within reaching distance. “Alexa, play eighties music.”

Here’s a station playing eighties music. All eighties.

As the sound of Bon Jovi filtered into the room, Joelle slumped into the cushions, grabbing the glass of wine out of Miranda’s hand before she could sit down.

“If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to tie you to the couch.” Miranda thumped the bottle on the table and curled on the couch.

“Who says anything is wrong? I’m winning the case. Ha. I’ll definitely be winning the case.”

“Let’s take a look at the evidence. Shall we? You asked for ice cream, the only kind you eat when you’re upset. You demanded chocolate, a craving you refuse to cater to and you’re half finished with your glass of wine. Should I throw in you’re listening to the only music that makes you feel good, according to you, Miss Powerful Attorney? Come on. What gives?”

Joelle yanked the wine off the table, refilling her glass as she thought about Craze. Yes, he’d called and texted her several times during the last few days. She hadn’t taken the bait. The man was a pig. Thank God, she had the weekend to try and recover. “Craze.”

“I was right. You’re in love with him.”

“I broke up with him.” Saying the words out loud was horrifying.

“Why?” Miranda reached over, taking her hand.

Joelle wrinkled her nose. “He isn’t who he says he is.”

“I already told you that, but you can work out a relationship with him. He’s not in the same firm. Attorneys can make the best bed partners.” She grinned.

“No, you don’t understand. He’s not a practicing attorney. Craze is none other than Judge Randolph Mitchell, not Ryland Simpson. Judge Mitchell is the judge on this case, the very one I’m working on.”

“Oh my God. Are you certain?” Miranda choked.

Joelle cocked her head and frowned.

“Duh. You’re not kidding?”

“Nope. I was shocked to say the least.”

Miranda opened both her mouth and eyes wide. “Okay. Wait a minute. Wait a fucking minute. Now I know. The judge? The judge who is considering running for Congress and everyone knows he’s going to win if he does?”

“Why does everyone know this about Craze but me?”

“Because you’re so busy keeping your head stuck up your ass, you refuse to even watch the television, let alone read a newspaper!”

Joelle narrowed her eyes. “This has been in the paper?”

“That’s why the name sounded familiar, but I was wrong about the reasons. I followed this trail that led me to Ryland. Ryland has been involved in some very high-profile drug related murder cases so he’s been in the paper right next to the huge question about whether Mitchell is going to run. Wow. Shit. I’m so sorry.” Miranda groaned then leaned over.

“Nothing to be sorry about. You tried to help me.”

“Okay, so he’s the man and I suspect you two are heavily involved. He could recuse himself from this case.” Miranda gulped her wine.

“Refuses.” Joelle made a point to find the back editions of the paper.

“Hmmm. Okay, he has to have a good reason.”

“Oh, he does.” She swirled the wine, took a huge gulp, then proceeded to tell her the story. When she was finished, her best friend had also refilled her wine and was digging into the ice cream.

Miranda held her spoon in the air. “Let me get this straight, there’s some reporter sniffing around about you, Anastasia Wainwright and our sexy judge.”

“Yeah, in layman’s terms.”

“Okay. So, someone wants something.”

“Gregory Brentwood found the perfect way to eliminate his competition.” Joelle yanked open the Doritos and grabbed a handful.

“Why don’t you just expose him? Oh yeah, the picture of you and the illustrious judge. He’s more than a jerk off. I could hire a hitman for you.”

Joelle gave her another look.

Miranda held up her hands. “Fine. No creative ideas.”

“This is serious. I’m backed into a corner. If I win, I’ll always question whether I won for the right reasons or if Gregory threw the case. If I lose, then my promotion might be shot. Gregory might release the photo of me anyway and no doubt Craze will be ruined. All in a day’s work.” Joelle growled and alternately took a sip of wine, a handful of chips and a spoonful of ice cream. The chocolate would come next.

Miranda closed her eyes and rubbed her finger across her mouth. “The single question you have to ask yourself is whether or not you believe Craze cared about you or whether he is a shithead.”

“I honestly am not sure. The picture with Anastasia means he’s seeing someone else.”

“That could have been taken months ago. You don’t know that. Do you?” Miranda snapped.

“No, but—”

“No buts!” Miranda interrupted. “He’s had other women in his life, just like you have men. You said he told you he found the right one as in you. Yes?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if that’s true or not.”

“Bullshit. You know. Your gut and little voice are both telling you the truth. I think you refuse to listen to yourself, preferring to drown your sorrows in awful, yet delicious, ice cream. Hand over that carton, woman.”

Joelle chuckled and slid the ice cream in her direction. Miranda was right. She had to come to terms with what was going on and determine her own truth. She’d seen the hurt look in his eyes, had done nothing but dream about the terrible event. Perhaps Anastasia had helped him find his true self. “Craze used me to influence the case for political gain.”

Miranda wagged her finger. “One problem with your scenario here.”

“What?”

“You found Craze, followed him into a bar. Remember?”

Joelle shrunk back as the words sunk in. She had forgotten all about the fact she’d chased him down. What if he was telling her the truth? “Oh God. What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you other than you found the right man and you almost fucked it up. I have a thought so hear me out.”

“Well, I need to do something.” Had she just slammed the door on the happiest she’d ever been in her life?

“Why don’t you hit Gregory where it really hurts? After all, the guy is blackmailing you and last time I checked, that’s against the law.”

“True. Okay, I’m listening. Tell me more,” Joelle said as she leaned in. No, he could have lured her into the bar. Yeah. That’s what happened. Convincing herself of the ploy was going to take some effort.

Miranda’s eyes twinkled as she relayed her idea. When she was finished, she huffed and grabbed the wine. “A damn good idea if I say so myself. I think that deserves a toast. Don’t you? You’re many things, dear friend, but you’re not a quitter. Fight for what you want.”

The idea was a damn good one. She mulled over the prospect, clinked glasses and picked up her phone. At the very least she was going to fry Gregory’s ass.

“Uh-oh. What are you going to do? I can see that determined look in your eyes.”

Joelle grinned. “You’re right. I’m a tenacious wench. I like your idea. No time like the present.” She found the number easily enough and made the call. “Good evening. Yes, I know it’s Friday night.”

“Good girl!” Miranda squealed.

“This might be unorthodox, but can I meet with you early Monday morning?” This would either mean an end or a beginning. Either way, the truth was going to be told.

* * *

Craze hesitated, remaining on his Harley. He’d stopping trying to call Joelle sometime on Friday. She refused to have anything to do with him. While he couldn’t necessarily blame her, the facts surrounding the situation were completely off-kilter. He wanted her back, would fight to do so, but wasn’t going to force anything. Besides, she had too much of a tenacious attitude to listen to anything he had to say, certainly not after what else she must have heard. No doubt she’d delved into his political aspirations through the various newsletter articles and television interviews. He looked guilty as charged.

Then again, he wasn’t going down without a fight. No one was going to take away his livelihood. He had enough influential friends to find out additional information regarding Michael Trent. This was more than a simple blackmail situation.

He looked up at the unassuming building. Michael was home. Craze had followed him, making certain his information was correct. What he was about to do could get him kicked off the bench, even disbarred. Forget about his run for Congress. He’d be run out of town if this didn’t go well.

However, he was going to try. He slid off the bike and secured his helmet. As he walked to the apartment, he thought about what he was going to say. This wasn’t going to be easy, but a necessity. He stopped just as he reached the front door, debating one last time. No, this was the right and only thing he could do.

After walking inside the unsecured building, he noticed the bank of mailboxes. He found the right apartment with ease and headed to the elevator. Surprise could be his friend. Alone in the elevator, his thoughts drifted to the way Joelle had looked at him the day in the parking lot. Anger was there, but he could see how despondent Joelle was, her sadness overwhelming. She’d believed in him even more than he’d ever believed in himself.

Letting her down had been the worst feeling in his life. When he reached the floor, he exhaled as he eased out into the hall. He was determined to find out who was working with the little jerk, one way or the other.

He took long strides and when he reached the door, he knocked sharply.

“Yeah?” The voice was aggravated.

“I need to speak with you. Now.” Craze kept his voice even.

Footsteps sounded and as the door was flung open, Michael was shocked then he grinned. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Judge?”

Craze pushed his way in. The force slamming the door against the wall. “You and I are going to have a chat.” He turned and glared at Michael, eyeing his cagey expression.

“We are?” Chuckling, Michael closed the door. “And why should I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to rip your throat out before I destroy you. Are we clear?”

“Threatening me. That will be an excellent headline for my story.” Michael walked past him, bumping Craze’s shoulder as he did.

Craze kept his cool. He clenched his fists and turned to face the man. “Who are you working with and how much money did they pay you to find shit out about me?”

“Who am I working with? Why would you think I’m working with anyone?”

“Because you’re not intelligent enough to come up with this idea. I’ve checked you out. You have no references to speak of. What few stories you have border on fluff pieces. Someone tipped you off about Anastasia. You might think this is your fifteen minutes of fame, but I assure you, you’re wrong.”

“Insulting me as well. Let me grab a pen and paper.” Michael shifted, but he kept his smile.

“I’m not kidding here. I will use what I know.”

“What the hell do you think you know?”

Grinning, Craze could see a hint of worry, even fear in the man’s eyes. He moved closer, crowding Michael’s space. “I suggest that you either tell me who you are working with and I’ll be happy to give you an exclusive…”

“Or?” Michael huffed.

“Or, your job will be pulled out from under you.”

Snorting, Michael shook his head. “You don’t scare me. You have nothing on me, but what I have on you will ruin your career.”

Craze tipped his head as he pulled out his phone and dialed the number. “Anastasia. Thank you for taking my call.” He winked at Michael, who was turning red. “Yes, he’s right here. I believe if you have a discussion with him, that might help. Hold on.” He held out the phone. “Anastasia would like to have a discussion with you. You do remember, the Governor’s wife, the one you’re trying to blackmail?”

Sweat trickled down the sides of Michael’s face. He swallowed before taking the phone. “Yes?”

While Craze wasn’t entirely certain what Anastasia was telling Michael, he suspected she was using the fact Michael not only had a record, but had lied about attending college, any college, before taking the job with the Sun, a newspaper conglomerate owned by her husband. He held a smile as they talked.

“Yes, I do understand. I’ll see what I can do.” Michael said every word through clenched teeth, his eyes as large as saucers. He thrust the phone back toward Craze, his body shaking.

“Thank you for your help,” Craze said.

Anastasia laughed. “You and I are kindred spirits. You allowed me to taste a part of the woman I thought I wanted. I enjoyed it but you were right to end our crazy, kinky relationship. I’m ready to be a responsible wife and mother now. Even though I had a special arrangement with my husband, he and I have talked. We’re going to make a go of our marriage again. He said the woman he knew in his twenties was back. I owe that to you, therefore so does he. Whatever you need, we’re both happy to help.”

Craze was happy to hear it. Thank God, he hadn’t fucked up everything in his life. “I think I can handle the situation from here.”

“I have no doubt you can. Enjoy becoming the next Senator. My husband is planning on endorsing you. You deserve the achievement,” Anastasia purred before ending the call.

After slipping the phone into his back pocket, Craze folded his arms. “Pays to have influential friends. I suggest you get some. Perhaps I can help. The offer is still on the table, an exclusive if you give me the information I want.”

Michael shifted from foot to foot. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Trust? There is a fascinating word. You don’t, but my suggestion is that you take a chance. You have nothing to lose at this point. He held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Michael looked away and shook his head. “On one condition.”

“You’re in no position to ask for anything.”

“One.”

“I’ll hear you out.” Craze took a step closer.

“Ruin the bastard.”

The words surprised him. “Okay. Now you’re going to have to tell me why.”

“Because he was blackmailing me into ruining you. He won’t stop. Trust me. The man is a fucking asshole.”

Craze could see by the look in the man’s eyes that he was afraid. “You have a deal. Now tell me everything you know and exactly what happened and I will help you as well as give you the exclusive.” What he heard made him smile. Now, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

* * *

On Monday morning, Craze was clean shaven, had purchased a new suit and tie, power red silk, and was more than prepared to face the day. He whistled as he slipped into his jacket.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Mark said as he dropped a file off on his desk. “You have court in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, I know on both counts. Why not be in a good mood? I’m making the announcement today.”

Mark coughed. “Today? You’ve decided? In the middle of a case?”

“Perfect timing. Trust me on this one. Everything will make sense later today.” Craze had purposely kept Joelle’s identity from him.

“Boss, you’re scaring me. Have you received any more threats?”

Craze shook his head. “One over the weekend. Same deep voice, but now I know disguised. However, that won’t matter in about…” He looked at his watch. “Two hours or so, give or take.”

“Okay, what in the hell is going on?”

Grinning, Craze grabbed his briefcase. “You’re going to have to wait and see. Perhaps you’re going to want to be in a suit today, come by the courthouse around nine-thirty. You may have to wait around for a while, but then again, maybe not.”

Mark opened his mouth then groaned. “I feel a nightmare coming on.”

“Stop worrying. For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Dear God, I hope so. If you’re trying to tell me I need to look for a new job, please just go easy on me.”

Craze walked around the desk and patted Mark on the shoulder. “I’ll never go easy on you but things are going to change. Just trust me. I’ll see you soon.” He started whistling once again as he walked out of his office and down the elevator. Today was a fabulous day for the good guys.

* * *

When he climbed into the car and rolled out of the parking garage, he dialed Joelle’s number. She wouldn’t take the call. Of that he had no doubt, but at some point she would listen to her voice mail. He only hoped before court.

“Joelle. I hope you don’t just erase this message because what I have to say is important. I didn’t lie to you or use you. You came out of the blue, a breath of fresh air. The very second I saw you, I was crazy with desire. I never intended on hurting you. You rocked my very world, reminding me why I need someone like you in my life. No, not just someone. I need you. Period. I crave your touch, adore the way your eyes flash when you look into mine. I hunger to shower you with everything you deserve.” Craze was surprised at some of his words, but they flowed easily for the first time in his life.

“Joelle, I need you. I want you to submit to me, but all I really need is the woman. I’m falling in love with you. You have my heart and my very soul. I hope you hear me, because this is the truth. I’ll be at the courthouse in less than fifteen minutes. We must talk prior to going into court. This has nothing, or everything to do with us as well as this case. I’ll be near the back exit. I hope to see you there.”

He slipped the phone inside his jacket and said a silent prayer. Love. Realizing he’d fallen in love with her was cathartic as well as terrifying. She was the love of his life and he couldn’t see moving forward without her, but she had to come to him on her own terms.

When he parked the car, he realized how incomplete his life had been. Every aspect of his career had kept him away from what he truly wanted. Perhaps he had Anastasia to thank for finding the man inside.

Craze grabbed his briefcase and headed for the back exit. He’d know her answer soon enough. Shaking his head, he clenched his fist and threw open the door. She wasn’t in sight. He stood where he was then walked up on the first landing. A few minutes must have passed and by the time he checked his watch, he realized she wasn’t coming. This was the end. Nodding, he accepted her decision and trudged up the other three flights.

He still had a blackmailer to foil and an announcement to make. Today, he was a man of the law and others would stand in his judgment. Including himself.

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Randolph Mitchell.”

Craze walked into the room and remained standing. He held out his arms, indicating everyone else should sit. He placed his things on the bench and gave Joelle one long look. Her expression was blank, yet her eyes remain haunted. The message hadn’t mattered. He inhaled and faced the courtroom.

“I’ve been a judge for almost four years. I was a defense attorney for twenty prior. I’ve worked my entire career on defending those who otherwise could not defend themselves. I’ve taken pride in setting men and women free when everyone else presumed they were guilty. I’ve taken the high road more times than I care to mention, avoiding the concept of political gain for any reason. During my tenure, I’ve been proud of my decisions, of my career and the law.

Today is not one of those days. I allowed myself to be influenced in ways that I can no longer tolerate. I’ve also allowed fear to guide me but that stops today. Members of the defense team. Will you approach the bench?”

* * *

Shock wasn’t the word Joelle was thinking of. She’d never been in a situation like this before. The entire courtroom was a buzz. She suspected the press would soon be too. What in the world was Craze doing? She looked over at Ryland, who gave her a respectful nod. Perhaps he was in on this.

She sat on the edge of her seat, the uncertainty killing her. A pin could drop and you could hear it. Everyone was craning their necks at this point, trying to overhear anything. People adored gossip.

Craze placed his hand on the microphone and leaned forward.

Joelle knew body language well enough to realize that Gregory was pissed, or at the very least upset. From her angle, she could tell his face was reddening. She sat back in her seat and heard her phone beep. She nonchalantly eased her iPhone from her purse, determined to place it on mute. When she noticed the message, her curiosity got the better of her.

Craze. He’d left another message. She studied the time. He’d called her a little more than thirty minutes before. Perhaps he’d been trying to warn her about what was going to happen today. She slipped the phone to her ear and leaned over.

The words flowed, but she could barely understand them. Tears slipped past her lashes and she kept her head down, trying to keep everyone else from noticing her state.

Joelle, I need you. I want you to submit to me, but all I really need is the woman. I’m falling in love with you. You have my heart and my very soul.

He said he was falling in love with her? She blinked several times as the tears continued to flow. She wiped them away and huffed, confusion warping her thoughts.

“You’re out of your mind!” Gregory exclaimed. “I did no such thing. I’m a man of the law.”

She jerked her head up, searching for Craze’s face. He had to know she’d listened, that she knew he was being serious. Frowning, she could tell the situation was getting out of hand. A man of the law? In a kangaroo court, perhaps.

As a deputy moved closer to the bench, she stood, her hands planted on the desk with enough force they were white.

Craze threw out his hand toward the deputy. “No. I have this.”

“I’m not admitting to anything.” Huffing, Gregory took a step back.

The move allowed Joelle to see Ryland’s smug face. When Ryland motioned to the deputy, she gripped the edge of the desk.

“Officer, will you place Gregory Brentwood under arrest for bribery and blackmail?” Ryland stated as he shook his head.

“You’re fucking out of your mind!” Gregory exclaimed. “I’m going to fight you on this. I will have you thrown off the bench. Just check the paper today and see what you find.”

“Go ahead and try a different vile tactic, Mr. Brentwood. I’m more than ready for yet another fight.” Craze’s eyes were blackened pools.

The paper? What was the man talking about? Joelle wanted nothing more than to rush to him, but he was no longer looking for her. He was no longer the same man. What was going on? Yes, she’d told Ryland about Gregory, but she never suspected he’d have the man arrested. This was a powerful change.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. I have no other option but to issue a mistrial. Thank you for your time. Mr. Martin, you’ll be remanded back to jail until such a time as it’s determined when the next court date will be. Ms. Parker, I’m certain you’re going to want to talk with me later. I’ll be in my chambers in about an hour.” Craze slammed the gavel down on the bench and left the room.

Shock and awe remained for a solid thirty seconds, then all hell broke loose.

Shaking, Joelle struggled to take two steps toward Ryland. Her mouth was dry, her ears ringing. He was talking with Mr. Martin and giving instructions to the officers who had placed handcuffs on the defendant’s wrists. Now, she didn’t have to worry about whether winning was the best option. She would fight this case on another day.

Ryland shoved things into his briefcase. He nodded as she walked closer. “Ms. Parker. Thank you very much for the information. I assure you that Mr. Brentwood will no longer be bothering you. I hadn’t found the time to talk with Judge Mitchell, but I guess I didn’t have to.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You mean you didn’t say anything to Judge Mitchell?”

“No, I was planning on asking for a recess. I don’t know where he got his information, but this certainly makes everything easier.”

“Did Gregory leak something to the press?”

“That I have no idea about, but I wouldn’t put it past him.” Ryland snorted. “The guy has been doing this to other people. He isn’t as smart as he believes. Once I detected the trial, the breadcrumbs became full loaves. Blackmail is a nasty thing. He’s going to be disbarred.”

“Something I’m very happy about,” she stated and glared at Gregory as he was dragged out of court. What if he had already leaked the information? Craze could be ruined.

“Look, I have no idea if I’ll be assigned to the case. As you can imagine, I think my client is going to want to get this on the docket as soon as possible, but given what evidence you’ve already shown in court, I’m going to ask my client to take a plea bargain. Will you consider murder in the first degree with no chance of parole as opposed to the death penalty?”

Joelle shifted back into reality. “We’ll talk. I’ll run this by my team.”

“Good enough. Thank you for everything. What you did by coming forward took guts. I admire that.” Ryland held out his hand.

While she took the compliment, she certainly didn’t feel anything but sadness. Through all of this and for all the wrong reasons, she’d lost the man she loved.

Chapter 10

Joelle tossed her things into her briefcase, but left everything in the courtroom. She was going to have to face the judge at some point in her career, might as well be today. The press would also want a statement. They would no doubt be outside, waiting like vultures. While she had no practiced statement, facing them was an evil necessity, especially today.

She smoothed down her skirt and walked down the stairs to the front of the building. She’d been right. There was a near mob at the front of the courthouse. Groaning, she rubbed her temples and wanted to run far away, to some foreign land. Be a big girl. Get this over with.

Plastering on a smile, she pushed open the doors and walked outside. No one came running in her direction. After a few confused seconds, she knew why. Craze was standing on a platform holding court.

“Judge Mitchell. Can you give us any details regarding this case and why you declared a mistrial?” The female reporter shoved her way in front of everyone.

“I’m not a judge right now. I’m simply Randolph Mitchell. I’m not standing here in front of you as that man. Please call me Randolph, or better yet, call me Craze.” Craze smiled and turned toward the man standing next to him.

Joelle inched closer until she could see the shell shocked looked on the other man’s face. This had to be someone from his office. He was going by Craze? What was he doing? She looked around. The entire group of reporters was waiting like crazed lions, ready for the slaughter.

“Mr. Mitchell. I mean Craze, do you have an announcement for us?” The young male reporter asked, a smile on his face.

“I do, Michael. Thank you for asking. As of today, I’m announcing my intentions to run for the Senate of this great state.” Craze smiled and waited, allowing the news to sink in.

She found herself creeping closer, longing to catch every word. When she was in the front, just off to the side, she pressed her hand over her mouth.

Several reporters had raised their hands; others were shouting out questions.

“Wait just a minute. I’m happy to answer a couple of additional questions, but I have a statement to make,” Craze said as he winked at the man standing off to the side.

She caught every expression, every nuance.

“I’ve been threatened over the years. I’ve come to believe this is simply part of my job, however, I don’t stand by while lies are being told. First of all, I want you to know that I’m not perfect.” Craze placed his hand over his heart. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but I’ve never done anything to abuse the system I’m so thankful for being a part of. To that end, I anticipate some information has been leaked regarding a relationship I had with Anastasia Wainwright.”

Joelle held her breath as members of the audience clamored to get closer. This was going to be a major scoop.

“Yes, Anastasia is the Governor’s wife, but no, we were not having an affair, at least in the traditional sense. She has been a good friend and allowed me to explore what some would consider kinky opportunities. While our relationship has ended, I don’t want her name sullied. She and her husband, Governor Wainwright have been estranged. Only during this time did she and I become involved. Yes, this isn’t right and I shouldn’t have indulged in what are my greatest fantasies, but she and I are adults. We made a decision and thankfully, are both moving on. Before you ask, Governor Wainwright is aware of the connection and is backing my campaign.” Craze took a breath and looked across the group, his eyes settling on Joelle.

She smiled and nodded, her heart racing. In his eyes she saw reserve, concern and something she’d never expected to see. Love.

“No, I didn’t love her in the traditional sense. Love is special, reserved for someone you know you can give your heart and soul to. I finally found that woman, a special and beautiful being who allowed me the greatest gift of all. She gave me her trust, something I broke because of my job. That stops here. I learned so many things from this amazing woman, including how to forgive myself. I can’t erase the past, but I can pledge that I will work for the people because of the people. I will do my best to regain your trust as well as your respect. I want to be a good man.”

Tears streamed down her face. She took another step forward then another. She no longer cared if anyone, including the reporters, figured out who she was and what she and Craze shared. She wanted nothing more than to offer him her complete trust as well as her love.

Craze smiled at her, mouthing words of love then turned back toward the reporters.

She was shocked, but no longer lost. As reporters converged on her, taking her picture and plying her with questions, she realized she’d never been happier. This was her destiny.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Joelle managed to find a way back into the courthouse without being noticed. She paced the hallway, perspiration beading across her upper lip. This was insane. This was terrifying. This was amazing. She was sweating all over. She must look like a wreck. Chuckling, she slid into the bathroom to freshen up. She had a feeling this was going to be an interesting evening.

After blotting her face, she washed her hands and smoothed down her skirt. Then she fiddled with her hair. To her, she was a mess. Still, she smiled. She was ready to face the man, her sir, the very sexy hunk who was going to own her. She strutted toward the door and flung it open. Two hands grabbed her wrists, pushing her back inside.

“Oh!”

“Hello, sunshine.”

“Craze, I mean Judge Mitchell, I…” Flustered, she inhaled his scent and her pussy clenched Today he was all male. The look on his face was carnal, his eyes full of dangerous hunger.

“I have to have you here. Now. I own you. You will obey me.” Lowering his head, he crushed his mouth over hers as he pushed her against the wall. He yanked her arms up over her head, grasping both wrists in one hand.

As her back hit the wall she grunted, every nerve ending on fire. Moaning into the kiss, she closed her eyes as his hand moved down, the tips of his fingers brushing the side of her breast, her waist and thigh. She was tingling all over, the anticipation of his indulgent yearning, his increasing needs a powerful aphrodisiac. You can’t do this. What if you’re caught? What if… This was dangerous. Exciting. Obey. You will obey him. What if anyone caught them? The dirty little secret was now out in the open for all to see.

Craze kicked her legs apart and shoved his hand under her skirt, jerking the edge of her panties aside.

Joelle wiggled as he thrust his fingers into her aching cunt, pumping hard and fast. His nails dug into her skin, his hand keeping her secured, yet she slumped, would have fallen to the floor had he not been holding her. Her nipples scraped against the thin lace of her bra, creating a blissful sting.

Flexing his fingers open, Craze plunged into her pussy with all four fingers as he swirled his thumb around her clit. He broke the kiss but kept his lips brushing against hers, his hot breath cascading across her skin. “There will never be a moment I can’t have you. There will never be a time you won’t pay heed to my domination, my rules. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Yes, sir.” Her lower lip quivered as he licked around her mouth.

“You’re wet. Have you hungered for your Master?”

“God, yes.”

“You need a whipping, a hard fucking like the good whore you are.”

His voice was raspy, guttural and she was unable to focus. “I’m your whore, your slut.”

“Good girl. Open your mouth.”

She obeyed instantly, a breathless pant pushing past her lips.

Removing his fingers, he shoved them into her mouth. “Suck. Clean my fingers.” He narrowed his eyes, studying her as she licked. When he seemed satisfied, he took a step back, scanning the length of her body. He growled as he looked into her eyes. His expression was one of control, absolute domination. Stretching her arms, he dragged the pad of his index finger down from her neck to the swell of her breasts, drawing a circle. “A good bitch.”

“Yes, sir.”

He dragged his finger down her chest, wiggling the tip until the pearl buttons on her blouse loosened. “Beautiful.” Grabbing her breast, he wrenched and twisted as she bit back a cry.

Her eyes watered as she rose up onto her tiptoes, pain rushing down her spine. When he ripped back her bra, exposing her nipple, she whimpered.

Craze released his hold on her wrists and wrapped his hand around her throat. “Quiet. You’re mine to do with what I want. Never forget that.” Growling, he dropped his head, sucking and biting on her hardened bud.

Blinking, Joelle coughed as a rush of excitement entered her system. Her arms slowly fell by her side. She clenched her fists and gulped for air, every nerve standing on end. As the bite intensified, tears slipped past her lashes. This time, they were tears of ecstasy.

He exhaled slowly and eased back, keeping his hold on her neck. Nuzzling closer, he nipped her earlobe as he whispered into her ear. “Now I’m going to fuck you like the slut you are after I whip your ass.” He dragged her toward the sink, turning her around and forcing her to bend at the waist.

The moment he let go of her neck she gasped, a smile crossing her face. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he unfastened his belt, knowing any minute they’d be interrupted, their intimate act a matter of discovery for those who hadn’t already caught the news. She couldn’t fight her desires, refused to fall into her fears.

Crack!

He slapped the belt onto the floor before doubling the end, wasting no time.

“Oh!” Her strangled yelp was met with a harsh look of displeasure.

“Be quiet, my sweet submissive. Do you understand?” Craze squeezed her breast before yanking the clip from her hair.

As her hair fell around her shoulders she arched her back, a mischievous smile cresting across her face. Perspiration trickled down both sides of her face, a drop slithering onto her lips. She licked furiously as he intertwined his fingers in her hair, yanking back her head.

Craze yanked up her skirt, forcing the tight material around her waist. He smiled as he took a single finger from his belted hand, driving the long digit under the top of her thong and jerking his hand.

The sound of the lace panty being ripped away shot adrenaline through her system. She panted as he tossed them to the floor.

“Mine.” Taking a step back he took a swing, slapping her hard across the upper thighs.

The second and third hit her squarely across the ass.

She bit back a scream as pain rocketed into every cell.

Crack! Whap!

Another volley continued, the smacks even and hard, one right after the other.

“My,” he huffed.

Crack! Pop!

“Beautiful slut.”

Slap! Crack! Crack!

Joelle lost count as the whipping continued, her mind reeling as she accepted the pain, craved more and suddenly a blissful feeling was so powerful she clenched her pussy.

“Yes. My gorgeous submissive, a woman who knows me inside and out.”

The sound of the belt being dropped was nothing but an echo. She lolled her head, her eyes only half open, and licked beads of perspiration from the top of her lip. Sweat and tears fell side by side into the chipped porcelain bowel. The realization made her smile. She was vaguely aware he’d grabbed her hips, yanking her backwards. Then she felt his cockhead pushing past her ass cheeks. She stiffened, her fingers gripping the sink, and tossed her head back.

Craze impaled her dark hole with one hard thrust, grunting as his balls slapped against her ass. “Oh yeah.”

She swallowed and slapped the glass with one hand, ecstasy and agony mixing together in such a heightened dichotomy her breath became constricted.

He repeated the move, holding her still as his cock swelled in her asshole. “See what bad girls get when they forget to wear their plug?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll learn to obey. You’ll learn.”

As he pumped hard and fast, his actions savage, his fucking brutal, she smiled. Nothing had ever been this right, this perfect. No man had ever understood her needs until now.

A slow growl slipping from his lips, he cupped her naked breast, twisting, his nails digging in. “Such a perfect little bitch.”

“I’m your bitch.”

“Yes, and don’t you forget that.”

Joelle closed her eyes as he continued fucking her, a quiet resolve settling in. This was exactly what she wanted. Seconds later she heard his strangled huff as he exploded inside, the warmth of his cum filling her ass as well as her soul.

When she managed to open her eyes, they looked at each other through their reflection, knowing this was the true start to a powerful relationship.

* * *

Craze stood at his window, gazing out at the late afternoon sun. They had been required to keep some distance while the retrial was being considered. Thankfully, Mr. Martin had taken the plea bargain. He was now almost free to spend a good portion of his time with Joelle. She’d left a permanent mark on his psyche, leaving him unable to sleep or eat.

“That’s not the look of a man who’s just presided over the case of his career.”

“Not according to the Press, Mark. The case was a bit of a mess.”

“Eh, what do they know?” Mark walked closer to his desk. “Everyone is eating up your decision to run. I’ve had the National networks calling.”

“I’m not ready for that yet.” Craze grinned. Both he and Joelle had been hounded since the press conference.

“Want to grab a beer?”

“Not really. I’m just tired.”

“Uh-huh. I have a feeling you’re thinking about that leggy blond, the one you’ve been pining away for, breaking every rule wide open. I think you’ve found the love of your life.”

Craze grinned and shook his head. “That transparent?”

“Well, if looks do the telling, I’d say the lovely Ms. Parker is pining away for you as well.”

“What?”

“Yep,” Mark said as he winked. “If I had to tell the truth, I think your magical coupling is going to garner you the win.”

He exhaled and lowered his head. “Hell, I don’t know. Perhaps I was presumptuous.”

“No, you’re already up ten points in the polls.” Mark’s grin grew wider.

“The polls? Jesus.”

“The polls were active months ago. You just never paid any attention. You did good the other day. I’m proud of you. Now, go have fun with her. Get your kink on.”

Craze narrowed his eyes. “Proud? I hope Joelle and the constituents continue to think this way. What do you know about my kink?”

“Oh, come on, you mean other than your news drop about Anastasia? I’ve known you for a decade. I know exactly the kinds of depraved thoughts that big brain of yours has. I’ve been around for a few particularly nasty comments about women. Or did you forget? You never married because that’s not your bag. You found a girl who gets you?”

The question was open ended. “We have a connection.”

“Then don’t waste time, buddy. You ain’t getting any younger. I’ll get out of your hair. Say hello to the lovely Miss Green Eyes for me. Oh, make certain you actually say the words ‘I love you’ this time. Okay?”

He chuckled as Mark walked out of the room and checked his watch. She might still be at the office. Perhaps he could have a talk with her, see if she had any longing to see him again. He looked back out the window, thinking about the intensity of their passion, their enraged hunger.

Brushing his finger across his belt, he emitted a string of growling sounds. Damn the woman made his cock ache. He could stop by, say congratulations on her win then see how she reacted.

Grabbing his keys, he locked up his office and walked out into the hallway, punching the elevator button. Impatient, he tapped his fingers on the wall as he waited, closing his eyes and envisioning her naked, tied to his bed.

Fuck her. Use her. Take her. Own her.

The mantra was the same and despite everything he’d tried to do to push away his needs, his dark hungers remained.

As he walked out of his office building and up the two blocks to his car, he noticed two stores, a flower shop and a jewelry store. Raising his eyebrow, a thought came to mind, one he refused to deny. He looked down at his suit and polished shoes, grimacing. Then he’d make another stop.

* * *

“In case you haven’t noticed, there is a celebration going on out here.”

Joelle barely lifted her head. Betsy had been chiding her for a solid thirty minutes to get out of her office and celebrate with the rest of the staff. Yes, they’d worked hard to win the case—all of them. So what if a plea bargain had been reached? The man was going to be behind bars for the rest of his life. The families could rest a bit easier. Absolutely, a celebration was in order given their outstanding Press coverage, but she was in no mood for a party. She wanted time with the man she loved. “I’ll be right there.”

“That’s what you said ten minutes ago.”

“And ten minutes before that. I have to finish up some details and I’ll come out and have a glass of champagne. I promise. Okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Betsy quipped. “Next time I drag you out by your hair.”

“Right.” She gave a stern look before Betsy closed the door and placed her head into her hands. The last few days had taken a toll, not only on her professionally, but her inability to touch Craze, even talking to him had been photographed, studied, parlayed into a story and photographed again. This was something she was going to have to get used to.

She wasn’t into hiding, even though he filled the darkness she’d kept locked away. Groaning, she closed her eyes, remembering every detail of the incredible times together. He’d furrowed into the smallest crevices of her soul. After the press conference, they hadn’t so much as squeezed in a single night together. She was beginning to wonder if his words had been for the cameras only.

The sharp knock on her door pissed her off. “Betsy!”

Betsy tentatively opened the door, peering inside.

“I told you I’d get out there when I could!” Realizing she’d snapped, she immediately softened her face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t going to bother you except you have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Joelle rose to her feet, her legs shaking. “Who?”

“He wouldn’t say, just asked if you were available for a few minutes.”

“This wouldn’t be the judge by any chance?”

“Uh no, I don’t think so.” Betsy frowned. “I think you just need to come out here. I don’t think he’s going to take no for an answer.”

Joelle nodded. “Please don’t tell me I’m being served with some lawsuit.”

“I have no idea, but if they’re using a service with guys who look like this, I think I’ll break the law.” Betsy chuckled as she walked away, leaving the door open a crack.

She exhaled and moved from behind her desk, her thoughts all over the place. A quick look at her very boring grey suit made her grumble. After jerking off the jacket, she tugged the pin from her hair, swinging her hair up and down then fluffing with her fingers. If she was going to be sued, then she might as well look her best.

Rolling her eyes, she walked toward the door, opening it as if she was taking command. The entire staff seemed to be standing in front of her door, drinks in their hands. They were laughing, happy for the win. She weeded through, accepting congratulations as she smiled, and pushed harder. When she finally was able to break through, she glanced around the room. There was no sight of anyone who didn’t belong.

“Betsy. Did he leave?”

“I’m right here.”

The voice, the sensuous tone, made her pussy clench. Joelle turned to her right, a smile curling on the corner of her mouth. “What are you doing here?” Craze. Craze. Craze! She looked down the length of him and almost melted into the floor. Dressed in faded skin-tight blue jeans, a red t-shirt, a leather jacket and biker boots, he was the epitome of a bad boy, her bad boy.

“I had to come and congratulate the best prosecutor in the city.” Craze walked forward, his hands behind his back.

“I was just doing my job.” Suddenly, all conversation in the room stopped. Her face heated, she inched closer, careful not to trip over her own feet. She glanced to her right and Betsy’s face was positively ashen.

“You did yourself proud.” Craze closed the distance.

“Who is that?” A voice from the crowd asked.

“Oh, that’s Judge Mitchell,” Betsy whispered, the sound reverberating. “He’s the one professing his love to our girl of the hour on television.”

Joelle swallowed hard as Craze’s eyes twinkled. “Thank you. You didn’t have to come down here just to say that. I can see you’re busy, on a ride.” Why did her voice sound so submissive?

Craze shook his head. “I didn’t come just to congratulate you.”

His hot breath created a rush of adrenaline and for a few seconds she wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees, press her face against his groin. “Then why?”

He leaned closer. “I came to claim you.”

“Claim?” Joelle managed.

“Yes. You’re coming with me, but not until I give you this.” Holding out a velvet box, he gave her a look of utter domination.

Everyone in the room exhaled.

Joelle glanced down at the box, her hand brushing across her lips. Tentatively she took the gift, rubbing her hand over the soft velvet. She looked down and tried to think of something to say.

“Open it,” Betsy insisted.

Half smiling, she opened the gift. The sterling silver choker had a single dangling ruby. She sucked in her breath as she fingered the piece. A tiny lock was hidden behind the jewel. How wonderfully intuitive the man was. “Are you certain?”

“Are you?” he asked as he took her arm.

Joelle nodded. “Very.”

Gathering her into his arms, he captured her mouth, pressing his tongue inside. As the kiss intensified, he pulled her to her tiptoes.

“My, oh my,” Betsy breathed.

“Hot,” a co-worker said quietly.

When he broke the kiss he took the collar, placing it around her neck. His whisper was direct. “Mine.”

Her breath skipping, Joelle fingered the jewel, the significance something only she knew. “Betsy. I’m going for a ride.”

“With the judge?” Betsy teased.

She turned and winked. “With Craze, the man who owns and loves me.”

The End

Piper Stone

Piper Stone writes in several genres including erotic romance, Domestic Discipline, spanking, Domination and submission and traditional romance. She has a love of the non-traditional, preferring to create worlds that defy the imagination. Wine and sous vide cooking are only second to her love of golden retrievers and you might find all three nestled in the pages of a book or two. She has several releases coming from Blushing Books including Truth or Dare, Dirty Little Secrets – His Hidden Girl and Power Exchange – Becoming.

Don’t miss these exciting titles by Piper Stone and Blushing Books!

Truth Or Dare

Submissive For Hire

His Demands

His Judgment

Power Exchange Series

Becoming - Book One

Rescue Me Series

Maverick -Book One

Anthologies

Hero Undercover

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