“And you’re alone in this apartment. Stay naked and think of me. If someone comes to the door you can have a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt to put on but no panties and no bra. Is that understood?”
She bit her bottom lip at the thought of walking around in her birthday suit. It seemed weird. “Is this that BDSM stuff?”
A single eye opened, but it was enough to send a little thrill through her. “Yes. This is that BDSM stuff, love. Obey me or we’ll talk about your punishment.”
The way he said the word “punishment” made it sound like it wouldn’t be such a horrible thing. Still. “All right. But can we talk about the bra?” Her boobs were really too big to leave swinging.
His eyes shut again. “I don’t know. Can we talk about anal plugs?”
So no bra then. “I’m good.”
“Thought you would be.” He sighed and turned, giving her a view of the most amazing backside she’d ever seen.
Ass. It was a gorgeous ass. Her boyfriend had a really great butt.
She quietly pulled her workout pants and a T-shirt out of her dresser and made her way to the shower.
Thomas Molina stared at the report in front of him. No pictures yet, just a bunch of numbers and places and dates that made up the seemingly dull life of one Lee Aaron Donnelly. His Texas driver’s license photo was so grainy Thomas could barely make it out.
According to everything Malcolm had dug up in the last eighteen hours, Lee Donnelly was nothing. He had a paltry eight thousand dollars in his checking account and twenty in savings. He owned a small company that specialized in customizing kitchens, but he’d left it in the hands of his partner back in the States while he roamed around England.
He was a nobody.
And he was the man who had fucked Avery Charles the night before.
He’d listened in, his cock getting hard even as his stomach rolled. Avery had been quite the whore. He was rather sad that he hadn’t wired the flat for video, then he would have been able to watch her slut it up.
“I also got the article to Brandon Charles’s parents.” Malcolm sat across from him, one eyebrow cocked in obvious curiosity. “Any reason why they care about Doctors Without Borders recruiting newbie surgeons?”
Oh, they would care. They would care quite a bit, and hopefully it would prod them to contact Avery and give her a little hell. She needed to remember who she bloody well was and what she’d done.
He needed her world crumbling so she would remember who she could count on. And when her new boyfriend disappeared, she wouldn’t have anyone to turn to except her friend.
“That is none of your concern.” Malcolm didn’t need to know the whys and wherefores. He only needed to do his job. “Were you able to follow him last night?”
It had been a bit odd. Loverboy Lee had put Avery in bed and then walked around the flat for a few minutes before walking out. At first he’d smiled, absolutely sure that Avery had just gotten what she deserved. She’d fucked some random asshole, and he’d taken what he wanted and walked on her.
He’d actually gone to sleep with visions of a weepy Avery regretting the whole night.
But the bastard had been gone for hours only to come back and get into bed with her again. And fuck her again.
He hadn’t sounded like a man who intended to leave. He’d sounded like a pervert who had found a good thing and was going to dig in. He’d fucked her and ordered her to walk around without any clothes. Again, this was where video would have been more desirable.
Malcolm frowned. “No. There was a crowd outside a pub next to her flat. I lost him. I waited and picked him back up. It appeared he’d gone to some sort of store. You know, the kind with brown paper bags. He also had a bunch of flowers. No idea why it took him bloody hours. Guess he had to find one that was open.”
Molina could just guess what was in that brown paper bag. Sex toys. Donnelly had mentioned a club, and they had talked about BDSM. Donnelly had given her some fucking hearts and Dom-shaped flowers spiel about taking care of her and how sex was meant for two. Pussy. Donnelly was only playing at being a Dom, and he didn’t understand the meaning of sex at all.
Sex was a way for the female to justify her existence. Sex was a way for the male to control and conquer.
She would finally understand what sex meant when he got Avery under him.
“Do you want me to take him out?” Malcolm asked.
“Eventually, but I don’t want Avery around when you do it. And get me some pictures of this bastard that aren’t so grainy I can’t see them. Have you run a trace on Lachlan Bates?” It was time to get down to the real business. He met with Eli Nelson in a couple of days. He wanted to know whether he should kill the motherfucker.