Unchained Read online

  “What? Can’t unwrap your gift ‘cause your husband tied your hands?” He chuckled. “Such a hardship.”

  She was trying to see what was laying on her naked skin, lifting her head and straining against the ropes.

  “Would you like me to open it for you?”

  “Yes, please,” she answered in a husky whimper.

  Leaving the package on her belly, he ripped open the tissue and whistled appreciatively. “Sweet,” he growled. “I know it’s your surprise and your gift, but baby,” he assured her with a quick twist of her closest nipple, “I’m going to enjoy using these on you.”

  She gasped at his words.

  Having teased her enough, he lifted two shiny gold objects up for her to see. He was enormously pleased with this new equipment, and if he played it right, she would be too.

  “Fourteen karat gold, handmade nipple clamps.”

  Her first reaction was a gasp and then she started to quiver.

  He felt like a salesman as he explained the pleasure-torture devices. “Each clamp is adjustable for just the right amount of bite. The ends are covered with a silicone bead, so even if it feels painful, no damage will be done.”

  Waving the pretty metal objects, he continued. “They’re hung with three strands of Swarovski crystals and capped with a small emerald. Chose emerald,” he told her with a wicked leer, “to honor my Irish wife.”

  She was watching him intently. Her once smoky jade eyes were now twinkling with shards of golden excitement.

  “Shall we give them a whirl?”

  She nodded jerkily and bit her lip. He laughed at her obvious excitement.

  “Now, now, baby. You know the drill. Use your words, wife. I need to hear your pleasure and understand your fears, or we stop here.”

  His sexy as fuck wife licked her lips and spoke with a husky, turned-on murmur. “Yes, Alex,” she said. “Whatever pleases you.”

  Putting the devices on each nipple was a delight all by itself. Plucking each puckered nub until it stood at attention, he leaned over and sucked hard until the nipple throbbed and she cried out.

  Tightening the clamps until she grimaced, he stood back to admire the picture she made when both were attached. He could tell it was a challenge for her by the heavy breaths he took and by how much squirming she did.

  Now, it was time to quiet her mind. But first, a little treat for him. Reaching between her legs, Alex ran two fingers along her sex, found her slippery wet, and thrust one finger sure and deep. Aggressively fingering her until she was shaking head to toe, Alex enjoyed his dominance and led her to a precipice he knew she was eager to go over.

  But not yet. Not quite yet.

  When her pussy started clutching, he withdrew his hand and made a production out of licking the sexy wetness off his fingers.

  Then he reached for the flogger and proceeded to take her, soft and gently at first, to another plane. With each thud of the leather against her body, Alex’s cock twitched with pleasure. Every time she groaned or whimpered, he’d rub his hand over the massive erection straining his sweats.

  Her breasts and the gorgeous gold clips heaved and swayed as she twisted and shook in the restraints. When he used the flogger on her tits, he was astonished at the creamy flood leaking profusely from her pussy.

  He knew she was flying high when she stopped struggling and lay quietly whimpering as he flogged her with increasing abandon.

  Dropping the flogger, he swiftly pulled one of the clips off. She cried out and writhed in pain. Diving onto the engorged nipple, he sucked feverishly until need replaced the pain. Repeating the same procedure on the other side, Alex was well pleased when, in the end, she was shaking uncontrollably. Her need was so great he could smell it.

  Sliding the sweats off, he crawled onto the bed, quickly untied her ankles, pushed her legs open wide, and licked her until she was crying, panting, and begging.

  Taking a pillow, he shoved it beneath her ass, left her hands tied, and pushed her knees up and open. His aim was sure and perfect as he lined his cock up to her swollen entrance and thrust deep.

  Keeping his hands in the bend of her knees, he forced her open and kept her body at the perfect angle for a thundering fuck. He knew damn well he wasn’t going to last long. Not with her sweet body creaming so beautifully all over his cock.

  “Scream for me, woman. Don’t be quiet when I’m making love to you. Let me hear your pleasure.”

  “Oh god, Alex,” she cried out. “I can’t, I can’t,” she moaned.

  “You can, and you will.” He grunted as his cock hammered deep again and again. “Come on, baby. Give me what I want.”

  “Alex,” she cried again and again. And then she went stone-cold ape-shit wild. Her pelvis lifted over and over; her pussy seized his cock and squeezed. A hot, slick flood washed his cock with come as she orgasmed so hard she went limp and he saw stars.

  Quickly following her over the ledge, Alex jerked and bucked as his cock spurted endless streams into her magnificent pussy.

  When it was over, he pulled out and quickly untied her hands. The second she was free, Meghan curled into him and clung as waves of aftershocks exploded in her body.

  Covering them with blankets, he held on to her tight and soothed her quaking body in the aftermath of some spectacular lovemaking.

  He smiled. It was their first night home. They fell asleep not long after.

  Tori was sitting in the living room, a glass of wine in her hand after getting Daniel settled for the night, when she heard Draegyn’s car come to a stop in the driveway.

  This is it, she decided calmly. No more of whatever the hell this was. Time for them to get serious and have a meaningful talk.

  He seemed surprised to find her up and obviously waiting for him when he quietly crept into the house.

  “Oh, hello,” he muttered.

  She took a deep breath and scolded the irrational response in her mind when she wanted to jump up and smack him.

  “Hello,” she replied.

  “Didn’t expect you to be up.”

  “Didn’t expect a lot of things, I imagine,” she answered silkily. Sipping her wine, she eyed him up and tried not to scream. Of course, he’d be in a fucking suit and tie.

  Oy.

  “Alex and Meghan are home,” she informed him matter-of-factly.

  She watched as concern and consternation appeared on his face. Ah, so he had known but forgot it was today. What a dick.

  “Yeah. Well, I had a previously scheduled appointment in Flagstaff that couldn’t be rescheduled. I’ll catch up with him tomorrow.”

  All right, she thought. This was ridiculous. Enough was goddamn enough.

  “Who’s Carol?”

  Startled by her directness, he looked stunned and muttered, “What?”

  “Don’t do me that way, Draegyn.” She shook her head.

  “Where did you hear the name?”

  “Does it matter?” she asked. He looked at her, and she gave the same back. “Don’t make it worse by pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  She was surprised when he pulled a chair alongside her and sat down. He loosened his tie, tore open some buttons on his shirt, and sat back. “I’ve known Carol for years. We worked together at one point.”

  “Worked together? How? Betty says there’s not a single Carol in the Justice database.”

  “Aw, Jesus. Really? You went to Betty? Shit, Victoria. This isn’t anyone else’s business.”

  He was so totally mistaken if he thought for a single second that she was going to let him deflect anything her way. She accepted her part in whatever led to them not communicating, but she sure as hell wasn’t taking any shit from him.

  “Well, I don’t know, Draegyn. Running around trying to figure out if your husband is cheating on you sort of implies thinking outside the box.”

  “Cheating?” he barked. “Who said anything about cheating?”

  Her ire was starting to rise. “Oh, jeez. Let me think
,” she bit out sarcastically. “Having the name Carol thrown in my face suggests many things. Cheating is at the top of the list.”

  Affronted—and she wanted to scream at him for playing it that way—he did one of his snotty, down-the-nose smirks and answered petulantly, “I am not a cheater.”

  Tori took a healthy gulp of her wine, sat forward, and put the half-empty glass on the table. Then she swiveled to face him. “Then explain please why the fuck you’ve been hanging around Flagstaff with Carol.”

  “I don’t like what you’re accusing me of,” he said with real anger.

  “Oh, yeah? Seriously? Well, I don’t like being kept in the dark. I don’t like feeling like you’re halfway out the door. I don’t like wondering what the hell is going on in your mind. And I especially don’t like this hot and cold routine you’re pulling. I know I’ve been hard to live with, Draegyn, but I never pulled away. That one’s on you.”

  Sounding exasperated at her line of attack, he snarled at her. “Victoria. For heaven’s sake. I didn’t pull away. If anything, I did what any husband would do when his wife is recovering from a difficult birth. Your needs come first.”

  “And my needs include double-wrapping condoms when we have sex? Do you have any idea how that made me feel? What am I supposed to think when you make love to me like a polite stranger, insist on bulletproof protection, and get late-night phone messages from someone named Carol?” She didn’t mean to, but she was screeching at the end.

  “You said you didn’t want another baby.”

  “Shit,” she yelled. “I said that because I’m a fucking hormonal mess. Didn’t you hear any of what I said about the doctor Lacey found? Am I that unimportant that you can’t even listen?”

  “Victoria,” he pleaded.

  “Oh, fuck,” she ground out. “Just stop, Draegyn. Please. I’ve had enough for today. Who is Carol? Why is this person a factor in my life? I deserve to know the truth.”

  A good five minutes of tense, uncomfortable silence followed. Then he said something that blew her entire world apart, and it was the very last thing she ever expected to hear.

  “It’s Doctor Stan Carol. He’s a urologist. Think urologist to the stars, if you want. That’s how we met. I was doing security for a big-time actor, and Carol was part of the guy’s entourage.”

  Huh? What the hell did a urologist do? Wasn’t that a … oh, my god. She lifted stunned eyes to his face.

  “I arranged a consult with him to talk about having a vasectomy.”

  She shot out of her chair and freaked the fuck out. “A vasectomy? Are you insane? Draegyn! My god. Daniel,” she choked out, suddenly horrified at the idea that her husband wasn’t all that down with fatherhood.

  “Did you do it,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Did you go behind my back and have a vasectomy?”

  “That’s where I was today, but I …”

  She felt sick to her stomach. Gurgling started roiling in her belly.

  “Shut up!” She started screaming to block out the horror unfolding in her head. “You son-of-a-bitch.”

  “But honey,” he muttered forlornly. “You said you didn’t want any more babies. I just wanted to protect you from another horrible pregnancy.”

  Thinking him cheating on her was the worst sort of betrayal imaginable, Tori wasn’t in any way prepared to deal with an even more horrible form of marital treachery. He’d chosen for her without any sort of discussion and gone behind her back. Who fucking did that shit?

  Draegyn St. John. That was who.

  “Get out,” she said after calming down. “I don’t care where you go, but you’re not sleeping in my bed ever again.”

  And then she walked away, her head held high, and stomped up the stairs to what had until two minutes ago been their bedroom. Once inside, she slammed the door with such force, she swore the whole house shook. The tears came not long after.

  HE SHOT UP in bed so fast his head spun when the low emergency beep on his phone got loud enough to rouse him from a dead sleep. Fumbling about on the nightstand until he found his phone, Alex struggled to clear his brain and focus on the alert.

  “Fuck,” he muttered when he saw what it was. Shaking Meghan awake, he told her in quick, static sentences, “Get up. I need you. Something’s happened. We need to go to Lacey. Quick.”

  “Is it Cam?” she asked in a worried whisper.

  “I don’t know. Hurry, would you? We have to get moving.”

  Minutes later, they were up, dressed, and driving at high speed in the dead of night, each of them white knuckling the ride down to the cabin.

  Halfway there, he told her to call Lacey. Wake her up and have her meet them at the front door. She followed his instructions with a scared and shaking voice. A frightened Lacey met them at the door.

  “Is Cameron all right?”

  “Turn on CNN,” was all he said.

  The three of them scurried into the kitchen where Meghan immediately put some water on to boil and then gathered with them in front of the small TV Lacey kept on a counter.

  They watched in silent horror as the breaking news report unfolded. A massive explosion in a suburb of Paris had ominous overtones. Half a city block was destroyed, and a fire was raging out of control.

  Alex feared that sort of thing the most. That one day, Justice would be involved in a terrorist incident. It was no coincidence that Cam was somewhere around Paris at a time when something bad happened.

  Frantically working his phone, as the girls remained glued to the TV, he was afraid of what he might find out. For the longest time, there was nothing. Just silence—the sort of silence that didn’t feel right.

  Right before dawn, the first casualty report came in. Four dead. A dozen, if not more, injured. Whatever inner strength Lacey had evaporated at that moment.

  “No, no, no!” she cried. That was when he saw she was clutching her stomach.

  A very bad feeling crept up his neck and detonated in his head. This couldn’t be happening.

  All hell quickly broke loose. “I’m pregnant, Alex,” she cried as sobs tore through her. “Oh, my god. I’m pregnant!”

  He held her while she sobbed out a story he could see from the expression on Meghan’s face was tearing her apart.

  Learning that Cam and Lacey suffered quietly through a miscarriage earlier that spring made him feel awful. Why hadn’t anyone said anything? Because of the wedding. Because the people he cared about the most tried to shield him and Meghan from heartbreak so as not to spoil their special day.

  Did Cam know she was pregnant?

  No, she’d wailed miserably. She just did a test two weeks ago, and it was positive. Every test since then came up the same, confirming that she was indeed pregnant.

  He didn’t know what to say. Or do.

  Finally, Meghan took control. Coolly telling Lacey she had to calm down for her sake and for the baby’s too, she rubbed the distraught woman’s back as Lacey lay with her head in his wife’s lap.

  The news didn’t get better as the sun came up. When the death toll rose, and he wasn’t getting any answers from his deep list of contacts, he didn’t know where else to turn or what to do, so he went to his phone list, found Drae’s number, and pressed call.

  When he answered sounding like someone just ran over his dog, Alex ignored his instinct to play nice and started barking like a madman.

  “Get up, you motherfucker. Something bad’s happened. I need you.”

  “Where are you,” he asked.

  “At Cam’s. Get your ass down here. And hurry.”

  “Yes, sir,” Drae answered smartly. “Be there in ten.” And then the phone went dead.

  Alex stood over Meghan and Lacey, his heart breaking for Cameron’s beloved Ponytail. His wife looked up at him, her normally vibrant green eyes shadowed with distress and fear. What was he supposed to say to her?

  As he watched, all the color slowly drained from her face. She turned away from him, and he saw her bite a lip and swallow har
d. She was imagining what was happening to the Camerons, happening to them.

  No. He wasn’t having it. Not any of this. Cam being hurt or dead wasn’t possible. They were too close. Too bonded. Surely, he’d know if some terrible fate had befallen his friend and brother.

  Drae came bursting in with a wild man look in his eyes. He’d heard the breaking news alert—that much he was sure of simply by the hard-ass expression on his face. The guy was in analytical mode. Maybe Drae could make some sense of this.

  Without more than a hard glance at the women, he started asking questions. It was his way, and Alex was never so happy to witness the man’s calm shrewdness.

  “Are we sure it’s Paris?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “Figured it out last night. Was waiting on a detection ping but this came up first.”

  Drae nodded and stood there, hands on his hips, eyes darting around the room.

  “What’s that guy’s name at State? The one who hooked you up after that thing with the ambassador fell apart last year.”

  Damn, he was good. Reaching for his phone, he murmured, “Right, right. Stan. Stan Morley. Do you think he’s close enough to the committee? It’s a long shot, man.”

  “Long, short, or back channel. We’ll take any shot we can. Does he have an angle? What can Justice do for him?”

  Hmph. Alex knew damn well what the cost of calling in a favor would be. If this worked, he’d effectively be setting up a hostage swap. Information about Cam in exchange for Alex’s handling of the CIA boys’ dirty little mess. He bristled, not liking how it always came round again and again.

  Balls.

  “Go check the search program running on Cam’s computer. Give me the coordinates of the last three pings. Then reach out to your pals in the service. Isn’t there some classified mystical handshake those muscle guys in protective services do? Find out who the handler is. Let’s come at it from both sides and meet in the middle.”

  “You got it, Major.”

  Drae’s keen mind was firing on all cylinders, but he looked like warmed up horse piles. Alex assumed he and Tori’d had a rough night. Should he say something? Let his friend know he was aware of the couple’s difficulties? Hard decision to make. Saying nothing might be the easier way but Alex didn’t play that part in all of this.