Doms Of The FBI: Re-Paired Part 19

"Confining." She sounded breathless. "I feel so helpless, but I know you'll take care of me."

Tying a sub with her body spread exposed them. Bindings like this sometimes triggered claustrophobic sensations. It forced her to touch herself, to acknowledge the truth of her position.

He feathered another few kisses over her eyelids, cheeks, and lips. "Always, Kitty Kat. I'll always take care of you, no matter what."

Taking three steps back, he put some distance between them. This wasn't intended to make her feel lonely, though her s.h.i.+ver and the way she dropped her gaze indicated that she thought so.

"Look at me."

He waited until she complied before he continued with his plan. First he went for his tie, loosening it slowly. He pulled it away and let it fall to the floor. She watched, the line of her gaze following it down briefly before snapping back to his face. He waited, and she didn't disappoint. Realization dawned in her expression. While the outward evidence of her vulnerability didn't disappear, it lessened, morphing to desire as she figured out that he was stripping for her.

Next he removed his belt and tossed it aside. Her lips parted as she inhaled a shaky breath. He loved how much he affected her, and he treasured the fact that she didn't hide it.

By the time he'd opened his s.h.i.+rt, she was regarding him with a hungry expression, and the faint scent of her arousal tickled his senses. His muscles were hard and long, cording his arms and legs and defining his abs. He worked out regularly, punis.h.i.+ng bouts of exercise that happened mostly in the training gym at work, and so he knew how good he looked.

When he was fully naked, he stood motionless before her and gave her a visual feast. He drew out the moments, savoring the desperate heat radiating from her very being. Then he turned away, smiling at her whimper of protest, and settled himself on the center of her bed.

"Come here, Kitty Kat."

She scurried over, climbing onto the mattress with a graceful agility difficult to achieve without the use of arms to aid in balance. He was impressed.

"Straddle me."

This order was followed to the letter. His c.o.c.k was up for the job, but it wouldn't be easy for her to do it alone. He dipped the tip into her juices and slid it around, teasing a pleading cry from the back of her throat.

At last he gave her what she wanted. She sank down on him eagerly, moving her hips to find the right rhythm and still keep her balance. Keith luxuriated in the silken heat of her tight sheath, but when she increased her pace, he slowed her with an authoritative hand on her hip.

"Slow, Kitty Kat. There's no hurry. We've got all night." Though if she kept clenching around him as she'd developed a habit of doing, he wasn't going to last nearly as long as he wanted. She was gifted at delivering just the right amount of pain to ratchet up the intensity of his o.r.g.a.s.m. "Relax. No squeezing."

She opened her mouth to protest. He hadn't made a secret of how much he loved when she exerted extra pressure.

Pressing one finger to her lips, he said, "I hope you aren't thinking of arguing with me."

That effectively squelched anything she might have said. With that concern out of the way, she could concentrate on her own pleasure. Soon tiny moans and squeaks poured from her, and he felt small flutters as her v.a.g.i.n.al walls contracted around him.

He tightened his hands on her hips and forced her to stop.

"Master?"

Her question nearly undid him, not because she questioned his actions, but because she only called him by that name when she felt the comfort and safety of her submission.

"Lift up and turn around. You're going to ride reverse-cowboy-style."

She'd been close to climaxing, but it wasn't going to be enough to take her to the level she needed tonight. A huge helping of o.r.g.a.s.m denial would do far more to help her deal with the complex coil of emotions knocking around inside her.

This time, she wasn't so graceful. He helped her turn around and get into position, taking advantage of the opportunity to run his hands all over her body. She arched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s into his palms. He kneaded the small mounds and pinched her nipples until she threw her head back and murmured, "Yes."

Then he positioned his c.o.c.k at her entrance and grasped her hips as she sank down once again. With her arms bound, it would be even more difficult for her to balance this way. She would have to concentrate harder, another thing that would help deny her the chance to climax. "Slow, Kitty Kat. I want to savor the way you feel around me."

At first her movements were sporadic and lacked rhythm. After about a minute, she found a pace that worked. The whole time, he kept his hands on her hips to help her stay upright, and he talked to her, speaking reverent words of praise and encouragement.

When something wet fell on his thigh, he immediately recognized it as a tear. Moving with the utmost care, he s.h.i.+fted under her until he sat up with his legs tucked underneath his a.s.s. He pulled her back until she rested against his chest. This position forced his c.o.c.k to press hard against her abdomen. The small bit of sharp pain nearly finished him. Through sheer strength of will, he refrained from ejaculating.

He wrapped his arms over hers, fortifying the self-hug he'd forced on her. Another tear landed on his arm, but he made no move to wipe them away or quiet her.

"Am I hurting you?" He didn't think he was, but he had to make sure.

She shook her head.

"Talk to me, then. Tell me what's wrong."

She shook her head again. "Nothing's wrong. Everything is right. It's just that when I'm not with you, like this, after you've checked all the doors and windows, this feeling goes away. I hate looking over my shoulder all the time. I hate the way my heart races for a few seconds when I'm in court and I get the feeling somebody's watching me. I never used to notice the other people in the courtroom, the ones waiting for their cases to be called. Now I can't stop."

He'd known she was trying to put a positive spin on her circ.u.mstances. Denial was going to eat her alive if he let her go on much longer without letting it out. Another tear splattered on his wrist.

"I've always gone out of my way to be nice to people, even if that just meant asking about their day. But now I find myself looking at everyone and wondering if they're the one who broke into my bedroom and stole my underwear. I feel bad about not being so friendly. I feel guilty for suspecting my friends. And I feel so completely helpless. I hate it."

She really broke down now. He held her in his arms as she sobbed. Inside her, his c.o.c.k softened a little. The sight of her tears only turned him on when they were shed from pleasurable pain or s.e.xual frustration. This cut him to the quick. He'd driven her here because she needed to deal with these emotions, but that didn't mean he liked it. He turned her in his arms and untied the rope. Then he scooted back until he could lie against the pillows and hold her as she cried.

Kat clung to him, and for the first time in his life, he felt peace instead of revulsion when a woman looked to him for emotional support, and he understood what it truly meant to be a Dom.

When her tears subsided, he wet a cloth and wiped her face. Then he kissed her, telling her without words all the tender things he felt for her but couldn't give voice to just yet. There would be time enough for that later.

She kissed him back, and he slipped into her silky warmth and made love to the woman he'd dreamed about for so long.

Chapter Eleven.

Catching sight of Aaron through the open door of the file room as she searched for the right drawers, Katrina cringed at his appearance. He looked as if he hadn't slept at all the night before. From her vantage point, she could make out the dark circles under his eyes and the wrinkles in his clothes. If she wasn't mistaken, he was wearing the same suit from yesterday. It didn't look like cleaning out his mother's bas.e.m.e.nt had gone well.

Her night hadn't started out much better, even though she usually loved when a family member dropped by to visit, but Keith's dominance had made a difference. He'd forced her to break down and face her fears. Things hadn't improved. It still sucked to have a stalker, but now she knew that he was there for her in all the ways she needed to be supported.

She finished putting away the files Aaron had been so thoughtful about bringing to her and rose to her feet. "Hey, you. Feeling okay?"

He exhaled loudly and flopped down on the chair at his desk. "I'm okay. I lost track of time and worked all night. No coffee for you today. Sorry."

"That's okay. I don't expect you to bring me coffee." She really didn't. Though she liked a strong cup or two in the morning, she rarely drank it during the day. Still, she appreciated his thoughtfulness. "I have to run out in a few minutes. I should be back in time for lunch. Did you want to meet? My treat."

A bit of life sparkled through his eyes, and he managed a smile that seemed to cost him a great deal of effort. "I think I'm going to clear my schedule this afternoon and go home. Now that I'm sitting down, last night is starting to catch up to me."

While she could offer to take on some of his duties, it would mean using up the part of her day she'd set aside to investigate the situation with Keith's sister. Choosing presented no contest. Keith was her priority.

Aaron ran a hand through his hair, further beating down the tracks that were already there. "Hey, I think I accidentally gave you some of my files yesterday. Do you have those handy?"

She shook her head. "I wondered about that. None of them were mine. I just finished refiling them. You'd better be careful, Aaron. You had some files that shouldn't leave the office. I know you have a lot going on, but that kind of mistake can ruin a career."

He pressed his lips into a thin line and peered at her strangely. Then he dropped his gaze to focus on his computer screen. "Thanks for the advice."

s.n.a.t.c.hes of her conversation with Jordan came back to her. He'd mentioned evidence logs, but they had to sign out files as well. She had a brief sense of uneasiness, and then she shook away that feeling. A bad night spent cleaning out his mother's bas.e.m.e.nt didn't change who he was. Having a stalker was definitely fraying her sensibilities.

Her first deposition of the day was scheduled to begin in a few minutes. She gathered her paperwork and patted him on the shoulder. "Get some rest. I'll bring the coffee tomorrow."

Looking up, he gave her a curious frown, but then he shook his head, and the expression disappeared. "Sure. I'll be here."

Katrina had a half hour of free time after scarfing her lunch. She used that time to search the DOJ database for Savannah Shaw. It didn't take long to find out that Keith's sister had been convicted of three counts of vehicular manslaughter. That, coupled with charges of possession, theft, vandalism, and the more serious DUI charges, had netted her the maximum. She'd be lucky to see daylight in twenty years.

Other than a notation about an upcoming appearance in family court, Katrina couldn't find specifics on the kids. It made sense. Records concerning minors were sealed, and that wasn't limited to criminal charges. She would need to make a trip to Child and Family Services to find the right caseworker, though that guaranteed nothing.

She tapped her fingernail on her desk three times before she made the decision. The Women's Huron Valley Correctional Facility was in Ypsilanti. It was out of her way, so she rearranged her schedule, informed Dustin of her whereabouts, and headed west.

The prison didn't look like much from the outside, but Katrina figured that was the point. It wasn't supposed to be a desirable place to visit. Because visits were only allowed on Sundays, Katrina walked an ethical line and used her credentials to get an audience.

Fifteen minutes later, Savannah Shaw plopped down in a chair on the opposite side of the table. A guard handcuffed her to a bar welded to the top. Katrina looked over Keith's sister.

Dark blonde roots were slowly replacing the dull platinum dye job with something that looked far better. In addition to hair color, she shared Keith's emerald-green eyes and general face structure. Savannah Shaw was the feminine version of her brother. The woman was about the same height as Katrina, but that was the only similarity. Savannah had generous curves that made her orange jumpsuit tight across the hips and b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She blinked at Katrina twice, a scowl forming almost instantly. "Who're you?"

Katrina extended her hand. "I'm Katrina Legato, a friend of your brother."

In one contemptuous gesture, Savannah looked at and dismissed the proffered hand. "You're a lawyer."

Lowering her hand to the table, Katrina nodded. "I am. But that's not why I'm here. Your mother visited me yesterday. She's concerned about your children."

Savannah rolled her eyes. "I told her to leave them be. What's she doing now?"

"Nothing." Katrina wondered how Savannah felt about not being able to raise her kids, or the fact that her mother had no plans to step up and take care of them. "She wanted me to tell Keith they were in the system and that they might be adopted soon. I wanted to meet you, to have the whole story before I said anything to Keith."

A tinge of bitterness twitched across Savannah's face. "So why do you care? Don't tell me Keith sent you, cuz I know that'd be a lie. I bet he don't even know you're here."

Katrina regarded her solemnly. "You'd win that bet. Your mother tried talking to him, but he wouldn't listen. He doesn't want anything to do with you guys."

Her husky chuckle turned into a coughing fit. "Sounds right. He was an a.s.shole from day one. I had to share a room with him and my sister. f.u.c.ker cried all the time. Probably still a whiny brat." She sat forward, folding her hands on the table. Her nails were chewed to the quick, and her hands were lined and worn years before their time. "So what's your story? You think if you agree to play Mommy to my b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, he'll stay with you? I got news for you, darlin'. You're just another one of his pretty wh.o.r.es. He's gonna make you do all sorts of degrading and humiliating things. Then he's gonna toss you aside with the rest of his b.i.t.c.hes. That boy is f.u.c.ked in the head."

Hearing his sister talk about him that way rankled, but Katrina wasn't here to defend Keith's kinky side. She brushed away Savannah's poisonous words with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Do you have custody of the children, or does the state?"

Savannah studied her with an intensity that would have disarmed her if she hadn't already been on the receiving end of that kind of stare. She knew better than to flinch. Several long minutes of silence pa.s.sed. Finally, Savannah sat back in her chair and looking as casual as she could with her hands cuffed in front of her.

"Court date is a week from next Thursday. I'm going to voluntarily give them over. I'm doing a minimum of twenty years. I asked my mom to take them, but my b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a father don't want them. He's always hated kids. Don't know why he had any." She picked at the edge of the table, and there was a fragile helplessness in the firm set of her mouth.

Katrina felt a little sorry for her. "How old are they?"

Savannah's expression softened. Her entire demeanor changed, and cracks of vulnerability showed for the first time. "Angelina is three, and Corey is eleven months. They're good kids. They should have a good home. Lord knows I never did anything much for them." She shook her head, a wealth of regret in the action. "About ten years ago? No. Maybe eight or nine, whenever Keith got sober, he came around and told us that if we didn't all stop drinking, he wouldn't have no more to do with us. I been sober for three months now. It sucks, but I guess I woulda done it sooner if I'd known I'd lose my kids."

It took Katrina a minute to digest all that. She'd known Keith for eleven years, and she'd never once seen him take a drink. True, he'd been in the military then, and she'd only seen him when he was home on leave, but he'd never seemed intoxicated.

She couldn't go into any of that now. Though she wasn't sure what her next steps should be, she regarded Savannah steadily. "I'm not making any promises." Keith hated his sister, and he wasn't big on kids. He tolerated her nephews pretty well, but like her, he was relieved to leave them with their parents.

Savannah let loose that husky chuckle again. "You lawyer types never do. Look, don't ask Keith to take them. He don't owe me. But you seem like a decent person. Can't you just make sure they end up with a good family? That's all I want."

Katrina could do that for the sake of two innocent kids. "I'll do what I can. Thank you for meeting with me."

As she drove back to Detroit, she wrestled with the paths unfolding before her. If she told Keith about the situation, he would get mad at her for sticking her nose into his business. That was a given. She didn't think he would want to punish her for it, and for that she was a little regretful. She'd rather face a spanking than his displeasure.

Was this something he really wanted to know about? His mother had tried to talk to him, and she was obviously trying to manipulate Katrina. Katrina didn't know how much Keith's mother had been able to say before Keith cut her off. He wouldn't do anything for his sister's sake. This was the woman who had made his childhood a living h.e.l.l. He had been clear that he wanted nothing to do with those people.

Even so, she would follow through on her promise and ensure those kids ended up in a good home. Now that she had their names, it would be easier to track down their caseworker.

And she needed more time to think about the other thing his sister had revealed. Why hadn't anyone ever told her that Keith was an alcoholic? Surely Malcolm knew. Did her parents? Though she could understand why Mal would keep this to himself, why had Keith never said a word? Was he ashamed, or did he want to forget he'd ever been ruled by addiction?

She couldn't ask him about it without revealing how she'd come by the information. She simply didn't possess the guile to mislead him like that, and moreover, she didn't want to.

By the time she finished, most of her afternoon was gone, and she'd convinced herself to take the weekend to think about what she'd learned. She headed for home. It was his secret to tell her. She didn't know how long she could wait, though. His lack of confidence in her stung more than any whip.

__________.

Sat.u.r.day afternoon, she spurned Keith's efforts to drive her to Darcy's house. Not only was it out of his way, having him do so would strand her there unnecessarily. If this operation went like most of them, she might not see Keith for a few days. While he intended to see her tomorrow, criminals weren't always that obliging. They committed their crimes and revealed evidence on their timetables, not the FBI's.

Darcy greeted her at the door, wearing a sky-blue sundress, a rosy glow, and a huge smile. "I have some great news."

Katrina entered the house and set her overnight bag in the living room. "Don't tell me Malcolm put security cameras all over the place here too."

Darcy glanced around the large, open foyer. Then she went outside and surveyed the obvious places-anything with a view of the front door or driveway. "Doesn't look like it. I guess what happens here stays here." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "No, this is better news. I'm over Chinese food. I've moved on to key lime pie and barbecued anything. I still have to chase it with antacid, but it's worth it. Malcolm slow-roasted an entire brisket. And your mom sent over key lime pie ice cream. It has chunks of lime-soaked piecrust in it."

With a laugh, Katrina followed Darcy to the kitchen. "She's just happy to have more grandkids on the way. I don't remember her doting on us that much. It was always, 'Clean your room,' and 'Take it outside.' She never tells my nephews to be quiet. I think she was born to be a grandmother."

The moment she entered the kitchen, the smell of barbecued meat hit her hard, reminding her that Keith had kept her busy well past lunchtime. Her mouth watered.

Darcy pulled a roasting pan from her double oven. "Some people are. My parents greeted the news by putting their house up for sale and buying a condo in Florida. They like Malcolm, mostly because he cleared my name and they don't know he's a Dom."

"You're not going to tell them?" This surprised Katrina. Darcy's first fiance had been her Dom, and that information was common knowledge.

Darcy shrugged. "They never understood my relations.h.i.+p with Scott. I figure this is a fresh start, so I'm going to just not ever mention it. That way they'll always like Malcolm, and I won't have to beat my head against the wall trying to explain why their daughter needs to be whipped and spanked."

The smell stole Katrina's attention. She heard what Darcy said, and she understood why Darcy wouldn't want to deal with that mess again, but she could only think about the food. Her brother was a decent cook.

"Not to change the subject, but do we have to wait for Layla and Amy before we eat that?"

Darcy laughed. "Nope. Baby is hungry, so that means dinner is served." She set it on the counter and handed Katrina a plate. "I say we dive in and forget manners."

The meat was so succulent it fell off the bone. Katrina stabbed chunks with her fork to load up her plate.