Love Under Two Loners [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12
“Yes!” Donny’s shout of pleasure and the first spurt of jism rewarded her at the same instant. At that moment, Rich pressed against her anus with one firm, lubed finger.
He breached her outer muscle, and her climax spewed out of her, hot and volcanic, each wave more thrilling and more wonderful than the one before. She sucked and swallowed and wallowed and squeezed her inner muscles until Rich’s own grunt of completion echoed off the shower walls.
Chapter 13
Christopher Lyons didn’t like lying to his lovers. Not even about something as seemingly innocuous as the facts about an old friend. And yet, he had told a lie—albeit a lie of omission—several weeks ago when he’d introduced Rory and Daisy to Ramon Estevez.
Yes, Ramon really was an old friend. That much was true. But what he hadn’t told his mates was that the man was also an FBI agent, currently working undercover on a human trafficking case involving another federal agency—Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
As part of Ramon’s cover, and with Christopher’s full compliance, he became a member of the Lyon’s Den.
Christopher Lyons had first met Ramon when they’d both been children, both of them in “the system.” They’d actually lived together in the same group home until Christopher had been moved out for being incorrigible. Ramon had recently admitted that he’d envied Chris his courage to act out at the time. He’d explained that, since his younger sister, Maria, had also been a resident of this same home after the deaths of their parents, he’d been afraid to set a foot wrong. He hadn’t wanted do anything that might cause him to be separated from her.
The second time they’d crossed paths had been just six years ago. It was at a point when Christopher’s various businesses had begun to thrive and he’d been in the process of opening up the Lyon’s Den. He’d literally bumped into Ramon outside of a bank on a busy Houston street during a Friday lunch hour. They’d recognized each other immediately, and Chris had offered to buy lunch.
He remembered that lunch as if it had happened yesterday. He’d asked after Maria and learned that she’d been kidnapped and then murdered fifteen years before. Ramon’s tone had gone flat as he’d related what details had been known at the time. It had been suspected that Maria had been taken and then raped over a period of time before her body had been recovered. The case had never been solved, despite the fact that the police had suspected a particular cartel that specialized in trafficking in girls of Hispanic background.
Maria had been only twelve years old when she’d been taken.
Her death and the circumstances surrounding it was the reason Ramon had become a federal agent. Working with the FBI, he was currently a member of a special investigations team focused on ferreting out child predators. He’d worked hard and had a pretty impressive arrest record, although Chris knew that nothing would ever make up for the loss of his sister.
Since Ramon had been assigned to the Houston office, Chris had been able keep in contact with the man on a regular basis. At that first long ago lunch, he’d told his friend that if there was ever anything he could do to help, he needed only to ask.
Just over a month ago, Ramon had come to collect on that offer.
Chris’s attention snapped back to the present. The Lyon’s Den looked so much different when it was closed, and the house lights were up. The daylight hours were when the cleaning crew got to work and when the dungeon masters went about the necessary tasks of maintaining the equipment and ordering in supplies.
It was also the time of day when Christopher saw to the nuts and bolts of his various businesses, including the club. He was in his office, a room above the club floor and at the opposite end of the main clubroom from his private lounge. Like that seating area, this space also had a two-way mirror, so he knew when Ramon arrived. He watched the man make his way toward the stairs.
By the time Ramon stepped into Chris’s office, he had a cup of the man’s favorite dark-blend coffee ready for him.
“Thank you, Christopher. I didn’t take time for coffee this morning.”
“Your message sounded urgent,” Chris said by way of greeting.
Ramon nodded as he accepted the cup of coffee then settled into the chair across from him. “It is, in a way.” He took a sip of the java and sighed. “First, some good news. I received a call just before I tagged you. All of the members of your club have been cleared by the task force. I can follow that up with telling you after several weeks of my subtly, and maybe not so subtly, asking around, no one here was able to give me a lead as to where I might find what I was looking for. Not only that, in a few cases, some of your members were more than a little incensed that I was looking for a young playmate. Even when I assured them that I’d been joking, I’m not sure they accepted I wasn’t serious.”
Chris chuckled. “They didn’t. A couple of the Doms spoke to me. Of course, I thanked them for the heads-up and promised I would keep an eye on you.”
“I’m glad they did. I really didn’t think the connection I was looking for would be found here. You’re too careful about who you let into your club.”
“But you had to be certain, in order to protect the integrity of your investigation and satisfy the rest of your team. I understood that.”
“Exactly.”
Chris took a moment to drink some of his coffee and to consider the man sitting across from him. Ramon possessed one particular quality that made him ideally suited for whatever undercover role he chose to play. He was as natural a chameleon as Chris had ever met.
“Now, I do have what could be a lead. One of the so-called Doms at one of the fetish bars I’ve been cruising overheard some of the questions I was asking. He told me about a special event coming up next weekend—invitation only—where, if a man had enough money, he could buy himself a very personal, very permanent, sex slave.”
“Do you think this event is connected to the human trafficking ring you’re after?”
Ramon had been very open about the perp he hoped to catch—a man who liked to “collect” and then sell Latino girls and young women. Most of his victims had been promised a grand life in the United States and then had been smuggled across the border—only to find themselves ensnared in the sex industry. Most were hooked on drugs early on by their pimps, so even if they did manage to escape, their futures would be hard. If they were lucky, they’d be sent back across the border. If not, they’d end up dead in some back alley somewhere.
Ramon shrugged. “I won’t know unless I can get in. I’m working on procuring an invitation, but my informant warned they’d be checking the balances of pre-paid credit cards at the door.” He shook his head. “The age of modern technology. Apparently, that’s the only currency accepted at these events. I put a request in to my boss. Hopefully the bureaucracy won’t keep me hanging.”
Chris understood the position Ramon was in. Getting an invitation was all well and good, but if he didn’t have the cash to back up his right to attend the auction, he wouldn’t be included.
“Any idea what the financial threshold is for this sale?”
“I don’t have a clue. Previous informants who’ve alluded to these sorts of arrangements have reported that some of the bigger cabals insist on twenty-five thousand, minimum. That does tend to eliminate most law enforcement agencies from sneaking their people in the front door.”
Chris had considered this moment might come. Whether or not the women being offered at this particular sale came through the pipeline from Mexico or not, Ramon’s attendance would be another credential in the undercover game he was playing. The FBI could create a background that even the most promising hacker could not break, but in some realms, it was first-hand reports that held sway. If a man actually attended a couple of auctions, it would be considered a plus in the investigation.
Decision made, Chris opened his desk drawer and withdrew a plastic card. He set it on the desk and slid it over to the man.
“There’s fifty thousand dollars on that card. If your creds don�
��t come in from your boss, use it.”
His friend looked shocked. “I can’t guarantee you’ll get anything back if I end up spending any of this. If my superiors decline—”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m beyond sick of these monsters who use my lifestyle as an excuse to make money and feed their sick cravings. The women at those auctions are no more real submissives than I’m…Grandma Moses. So use that however you need to help you get the job done.”
“I don’t know what to say, except…thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I meant it when I told you I’d do everything within my power to help you nail the bastard who took and then murdered Maria.” He didn’t need to see his reflection to know his face had assumed what Daisy called his pissed-off Dom look. “It just so happens that I have a great deal of money, and I don’t mind using it for this.”
* * * *
As Iris made both herself and Donny a second cup of coffee, her gaze wandered over to her lover, now her boss, as he reviewed the list of deliveries they were expecting for the clinic that day.
Rich had already left for his first day teaching at Claymore, so it was just the two of them now in the kitchen. She’d stayed over again, persuaded by soft, succulent after-loving kisses and the feeling of being cozy between her two lovers. Donny had made breakfast, and Iris had done the dishes, leaving Professor Kendall free to organize his thoughts and his papers before he left for his hour and a half drive to work.
Iris brought her thoughts back to the job at hand. “Before the phone lines open for the day, do you want to designate specific pet days?”
Donny met her gaze. “I never thought of that. I’m glad I have you around because this is the first time I’ve been the sole vet on site, and I sure as hell can’t think of everything.”
“I know some veterinary practices specialize. In more rural areas where there are a lot of ranches and farms, a vet might just see larger animals. Heck, some even specialize in either horses or cattle, but not both. You told me in New York you’d been part of a practice that had handled all animals, livestock as well as pets.”
“That was just before I decided to leave there and come here. Before that, my wife and I had our own clinic. She was a farm girl, and our clinic was in a small rural town, surrounded by farms and even a couple of ranches.”
It was the first time Donny had talked about his wife, even though she knew he was divorced. She tilted her head to one side. “I didn’t realize your wife was also a veterinarian.”
Donny nodded then took a sip of his coffee. “We met in college. At the time, I thought it was a match made in heaven.”
Iris wanted to ask but didn’t know if she should.
Donny solved her dilemma when he reached over and ran his finger down her face. “Go ahead and ask, sweetheart. You have a right to know whatever you want to know.”
“So what happened to your marriage?” She decided to give voice to her worst fear. “Was it working together day after day that soured your relationship?” Please don’t let it be that.
Donny’s eyes widened as if he’d just heard her last thought. “God, no. What happened was that we got a new vet on staff, a woman who also owned a small goat farm.” Iris wondered at that cryptic response, even as the appearance of a blush on his face intrigued her. Donny cleared his throat. “Ellen left me for Sybil.”
It was Iris’s turn to go bug eyed. Then she shook her head as the meaning of his blush registered. “People don’t turn gay, Donny. She likely was gay all along and was either in denial or really didn’t know it.”
“I know, but it’s still kind of embarrassing that I was the last to know my wife preferred playing for the other team.”
“Is that why you left your own practice?”
“Yeah. I was uncomfortable watching them make moon eyes at each other.” He cleared his throat. “So, when I left the practice and the area, I hired on to a clinic that was more urban than rural. Though I was their go-to guy when calls would come in from area farms, mostly I dealt with cats and dogs and hamsters…but I drew the line at lizards.”
“I don’t think there will be too many lizards in Lusty.”
“God, I hope not. Disgusting, scaly creatures.” And he shivered.
They both grinned, and it was a nice moment. Iris’s gaze slid to the clock, and she realized the phone might begin to ring any time.
“Doc Murdock specialized in being a ranch vet, but he would also see smaller animals. Generally, he designated Thursdays and Fridays as pet days, which allowed him to make his ranch rounds Monday to Wednesday.”
“That sounds like a plan, and if it turns out we can get a manageable divide, we’ll do that. For now, start with ranches and farms for next Monday through Thursday, and leave Friday for the pets. After the first few days, we’ll re-visit our thoughts.”
“Yes, sir.”
Donny raised his eyebrow, and Iris laughed. “That ‘yes, sir’ wasn’t the same ‘yes, Sir’ as you heard last night.”
“I know. But it did bring some great recent memories to mind.”
The sound of a large truck turning into the driveway caught both of their attention. Donny headed toward the door. “Looks like our first scheduled delivery has arrived. I’ll get things unloaded and unpacked while you tend the—hopefully—very busy phone.”
Feeling bold, and wanting to knock any lingering thoughts of his marriage-gone-wrong out of his mind, Iris caught him before he opened the door. Going up on her toes, she gave him a kiss. She intended to keep it light, but he took over and took her deep. When he lifted his head, his gaze was hot and steamy.
Using all of her will, she managed step back, but she could do nothing about the sappy look she just knew he could see. “Have fun, boss. And if you need me, I can transfer the incoming calls to my cell phone and join you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Hopefully the phone company will be out tomorrow to install the business line into the clinic. Then we can begin working within sight of each other. All. Day. Long.”
The smoldering look he sent her left her in no doubt that was something he was very much looking forward to.
Chapter 14
Rich exhaled heavily, happy to have the formality of the full assembly behind him. Formal gatherings like that one, where he was the center of attention, had always felt uncomfortable. He liked being in control, both the responsibility of it and the result of it. He didn’t need to stand in the limelight to feel as if his life had value. He knew his own self-worth.
But he also understood there were times when he’d be in situations he’d just as soon miss. The life of the academic could be fraught with social occasions where one’s best plan was to smile and just get through it.
He’d smiled, and now it was time to get to doing what he loved—teaching. He’d awoken with, and dealt with, first-day nerves. Being a Dom didn’t mean he was immune to such moments. It just meant he understood how to handle them a bit better.
Rich waited at the head of the small lecture hall as his students filed in. Because this was a smaller college, there were very few large classes. This sophomore course entitled “Shakespeare and Friends” had registered twenty-five students. His other three classes held slightly more students each. On top of a full day of getting to know his students, he would have his first department meeting at four this afternoon. He had a very full day and could admit to himself he didn’t look forward to meeting his department staff nearly as much as he did the students.
Others might be daunted by going from an assembly to a small reception then right into a full slate. Rich liked nothing more than diving in with both feet.
He’d given some thought as to how he would use the first meeting with each group today. It hadn’t been all that long since the man in whose place he stood had died. In the interim, Dr. Broderick’s classes had been assumed by senior students. Since it was a small faculty, with fewer than five other souls representing his field, the temporary loss of the department head likely hadn�
�t had any impact at all on the functioning of the department.
He flicked a gaze at the clock. It was time to start.
“Good morning, ladies. Thank you for being prompt.” Despite the fact that they’d all probably been at the assembly, and also that he’d written his name on the board, he introduced himself anyway.
“I’m Dr. Richard Kendall, and before any of you ask, yes, it’s true. I am a Yankee.”
That got a titter of laughter from his students. “I was born and raised in upper New York State and relocated here to Texas fairly recently. However, I can claim a whole slew of Texan relatives, including aunts, uncles, and cousins. In fact, two of my grandfathers were Texans.” Rich liked to be as honest as possible. Martin and Nicholas Kendall had been his paternal grandfathers, but there was no need to go into the particulars. He nodded to the students. “On the bright side, it could be worse. I could have a thick Queens or Boston accent, in which case, we might all be in need of a translator.”
He could see the students had begun to relax. It didn’t take long to convey that he wasn’t one of those profs who had a stick up his ass. Mission accomplished. Now it was time to get to work.
“For the remainder of the semester we’ll be following Dr. Broderick’s lesson plan. So whatever reading assignments you were given by your former teacher are still in effect. I have some papers to return to you. I believe you’d submitted essays a few days before his accident?” When the women all nodded, he took a moment to look at their faces. No tears, though their expressions were somber. Good. While Miss Claymore had believed most of the late professor’s students had grieved and moved on, it could never be assumed that one or two weren’t having difficulty coping.
“Dr. Broderick did finish grading each of these essays, and the comments in red are his. I took the time to read your essays and his comments. I have them here for you. When I call your name, please come up and introduce yourself to me and tell me a little about yourself.”