The manipulation was a little blatant. Eve didn’t rise to the bait. She was kind of saving all her irritation for Alex. It was a bit disconcerting to realize that she was just waiting for him to walk through that door. She didn’t want the peace that came from being alone. She wanted the electric feeling she’d had any time she was near him in the last week. “I’ll take a look at the files, though I seriously doubt he’s changed his motivations.”
Although there now seemed to be a serious money component, as evidenced by the clubs. He’d made small changes before, using his followers to bring in their paychecks and running tiny meth labs. He’d spent everything on his terror campaigns. His bombs had been more sophisticated and deadlier than the usual homemade stuff.
What was he trying to do now? Yes. She would like a look at those files.
Kristen looked down, her eyes catching on something. “I would appreciate it. And I would appreciate if I could be considered a member of this team. I get it. Master Alex is too controlling to give over, but I’ve been helpful. I want that acknowledged. At the end of all of this, I want everyone to know that I did good, damn it. There’s dirt all over your knees. It’s probably infectious knowing what goes on in this club.”
Kristen turned and walked out, the door sliding shut behind her.
Eve winced. Her knees were streaked with dirt. Someone was so getting yelled at over housekeeping issues. She walked back and started one of the showers. Even if he hadn’t told her to get cleaned up, she wouldn’t have been able to leave it like it was. She shed her clothes, her brain working on the conversation she’d just had.
Good. It was an odd word. I want everyone to know I did good.
It played in her brain, that one sentence looping over and over. Eve groaned a little as the hot water hit her skin. Alex had been easy on her. She barely could feel where he’d spanked her. She liked it harder and he knew it.
I did good.
Kristen was a writer, a good one at that. She’d been nominated for a Pulitzer. Her grammar should be impeccable. Unless she hadn’t meant it the way Eve had taken it. I did good could be a grammatically incorrect version of I did well.
Or it could mean that she did right, good.
Why was Kristen so concerned with everyone on the team knowing she’d done something righteous? It wasn’t the first time she mentioned it. She’d talked about wearing a white hat for once.
But all of her stories helped people. She was a writer who championed the underdog and exposed corruption. So why did she sound like she was seeking redemption?
The stall opened, but Eve didn’t scream. She’d known he would be here. She’d known it from the minute he’d ordered her here.
And she’d known that he would be done playing games with her. She’d seen it in his eyes.
Five whole days he’d tortured her with intimacy and no sex. That was done now, and she had the feeling it wasn’t going to be a soft and sweet lovemaking session.
Alex stood in the door of the stall, not a stitch of clothes covering his hard body. She glanced over, her eyes taking him in. He glared down at her, his hands on his muscled hips. The big bad Dom was in the house.
He was built like a linebacker, all hard muscle and perfectly sculpted skin. His broad shoulders barely fit in the door of the stall. Those shoulders tapered down to a lean waist and a six-pack that still made her mouth water. His legs were strong, long and thick. And his cock. God, she longed for that damn cock, and she’d had it a thousand times.
So why did it feel new now?
It had to be the whole mission thing. She hadn’t been out in the field with him this way before. It was a rush, and being exposed to danger could bring people together. She had to remember this wasn’t the real world. They weren’t really together.
“You want to explain what you’re doing, Eve?” Alex’s voice was a low, silky threat. It was the voice he used to employ when he really wanted her to think about what she was going to say to him because a wrong word would bring some punishment.
Fortunately for him, she wasn’t afraid of his punishment. His spanking earlier had been more of a tease than anything else. She was still jittery and unfulfilled from those barely there blows and five previous days of sexual denial. “I’m taking a shower because my asshole Master forced me to crawl on a dirty floor.”
His expression changed suddenly. “It wasn’t dirty. I saw them cleaning earlier. They were mopping.”
That was why she’d always trusted him. It took everything she had not to just dissolve into a puddle of goo at his feet. Yes, he was a Dom and yes, he needed control, but the last thing he would ever do was hurt or humiliate his sub. She let a good portion of her irritation go because she was more than his sub right now. She was his partner.