Chapter Fifteen

Chelsea

Jamie dropped us off at Rose Cottage then sped away with the tires spinning. We went around to the back of the house with the light of a half-moon showing us the way.

Dalton was at the door puffing on a smoke. It seemed there was always someone there keeping an eye on the working women.

“Bloody hell, I just heard,” he said, ushering us in. “You okay, Chelsea?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

He shut the door and flicked on the kettle. “Cup of tea, that’s what you need.”

I laughed, a tight sound, and sat at the big table. “A cup of tea fixes everything, right?”

“Yep.” He grinned at me and then glanced at the bank of security screens, scanning them. “How’d you take it?”

“Just milk, thanks.” I’d gone from captive to girlfriend in a heartbeat and I was surprised how at ease I felt around the men who had grabbed me and held me. I turned to Andrew who’d sat close and with his arm around my shoulders.

For so long he’d been off limits. Forbidden.

He the professor.

Me the student.

We weren’t allowed to touch. But now, finally, we were together. As one. There was no denying our feelings or lust for each other, and that was liberating and, in all honesty, a relief.

“Babe.” He stroked his finger down my neck. “I’d have killed him just for touching you.” He paused. “You sure this doesn’t hurt? There’ll be a bruise.”

“I’m fine. It happened so quickly, and I fought him. I wasn’t going to accept my fate. I wouldn’t have let him win.”

“Thank fuck we got there when we did.” He cupped my cheek and brushed his lips over mine.

“Yes, I’m glad about that.” I moved back a fraction. “But I’d done him some damage.”

“I saw his bloody nose, and he had the expression of a guy who’d just been kneed in the groin.”

“Big time.” I slid my hand onto Andrew’s thigh. “Perfect aim.”

He kissed me again, firmer this time, then, “Will you be okay here for a minute? I need to prepare something.”

“Er, yeah, of course.”

Andrew stood and left the room. Dalton placed a cup of strong tea in front of me along with a plate of custard creams.

“Thanks.”

He sat and studied me. “Gutsy move.”

“What? Shooting a killer?”

“Shooting a murderer, yeah, the guys would have done it for you. You didn’t have to take that on.”

“I guess.” I took a sip of tea and reached for a biscuit.

“Andrew doesn’t date, you know. Never seen him with a woman or even talk about one.”

I paused with the biscuit halfway to my mouth. “Okay.” I drew the word out.

“Just sayin’”

“Why?”

“’Cause…you know, after Sadie, I think it scares him to think the same thing might happen again.”

“Sadie…ah, that’s his sister, right?”

“Yeah.” Dalton looked away, his lips tight and his eyes narrowed. “She was.”

“Was? What happened to Sadie?”

“He hasn’t told you?”

I shook my head and bit into my biscuit. “No.”

“She was murdered when she was eighteen. It’s the reason he set up Galahad. Her killer wasn’t found for ten years, and then it was his investigations that finally got him.”

“Go on.”

“But they couldn’t make the charges stick. Some of the evidence was circumstantial, some they said had been tampered with.” Dalton glanced at the screens.

Andrew was going into one of the rooms. It had a red door.

“The guy was released without charge,” Dalton went on. “Two months later, another woman was murdered, he was brought in, but again he was let off.”

“What? I mean, if they knew it was him, why didn’t they…?”

“Bastard was good at covering his tracks. But that was a red rag to a bull for Andrew. I didn’t know him back then, but he went after him, killed him, got rid of the body and all that. The police didn’t care much about a missing person report from a distant family member, they knew the guy was a murdering asshole and that he’d done what he’d been accused of. They knew as well as anyone it was good riddance.”

“And within the confines of the law they couldn’t do a thing.” I shook my head. “Even though they knew what he’d done.”

“Exactly, and they weren’t in a position to take the law into their own hands.”

“So how did Galahad come about from that?” I was beginning to piece it together. “How did Andrew go from being on his own to all of you guys?”

“Mitch was on the missing person case, and when his path crossed Andrew’s he kind of guessed what had happened. Patted him on the back. Said next time he needed help to give him a call.”

“Fuck, really? Mitch being a cop and all that…wow.”

“Some people have a stronger sense of needing justice than others, even in cases that aren’t related to them personally.” Dalton shrugged and set his hand flat over his shirt, where his heart was. “Justice is justice.”

“How did the rest of you meet? How did you all come to trust each other so much? This is serious shit what you do, nothing within the framework of the law going on.” I had so many questions now.

“You’d be right. But that’s a story for Andrew to tell you. I’ve said enough.”

“Why did you tell me any of that at all?”

“Because if you’re sitting at this table in Rose Cottage, Chelsea, you’re special, very special.”

* * * *

Andrew

I studied the pleasure room. The girls used it if they had trusted customers with particular needs—particular kinky needs. But right now, I had a need for it. I wanted to make Chelsea forget all the bad things and know only pleasure—the pleasure I could bring her.

We’d both lusted after each other for so long, and now we’d admitted what we craved, it was time to show her the real me. It was time to give her this piece of myself.

The room smelled of orange-scented cleaning fluid, and the red walls and red lights gave it a scarlet glow. A row of dildos and butt plugs were set on a shelf over what had been a fireplace but now contained a basket full of whips, floggers, and spreaders. To my right was a spanking bench, and beyond that a drawer unit that contained lubes, condoms, gags, and blindfolds.

I reached up and tugged a chain attached to the roof. It had a set of cuffs on it, high up, designed to stretch the torso once it was adjusted.

My cock tingled. This was what I wanted. To have her at my mercy. She may have sat at the back of my lecture theater masturbating and thought that was kinky, but now I’d show her exactly where my twisted, warped mind could go when I was horny for her.

I glanced in the small en suite attached. It also smelled of citrus and had two fluffy white towels folded neatly on the countertop.

“Get ready, little girl,” I said, “to forget everything, including your goddamn name.”

I shut the door and walked along the corridor. There was one customer in the house according to the board in the kitchen, and he was in with Bridget. A regular, going by the star next to his first name. One we could have a modicum of trust in.

The paying blokes didn’t use the back way into Rose Cottage. They had to use the front entrance so we could get a good look at them on our camera. It came in useful for bastards like Brian Dix, meant we had a record.

Brian Dix.

Fuck, my woman was a killer, like me. I hadn’t seen that coming. Though why I was surprised when her passion for honesty and justice had come through in every essay I’d ever read of hers, I didn’t know.

“Hey.” I stood in the door of the kitchen. “Finished your tea?”

“Yes.” She tipped her head and gave me one of the ‘come fuck me’ smiles that had nearly been my undoing so many times.

“This way.” I jerked my head then set my attention on Dalton. “You got this?”

“You going where I think you are?”

“Yes, and I’ve covered the camera, so don’t think about peeking.”

Dalton laughed. “Mate, I like being the one having sex, not watching it. It’s just the way I’m wired.”

Chelsea slinked up to my side, slotting her small hand in mine.

I tugged her from the room.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Somewhere private. Special.”

“Why is it special?”

I led her up the stairs. “You’ve fantasized about me, right.”

She hesitated, then, “Yes.”

“And I have you, but I think we might be on different pages.”

“I don’t understand.”

We reached the top of the stairs, and I stopped and cupped her cheeks, stared into her trusting eyes. “I’m kinky, babe, like really kinky, and I’ll tease you and fuck you until your head is spinning and your body is pulsing in ecstasy.”

“I can handle that.”

“You sure?” I raised my eyebrows. She didn’t know what she didn’t know, but I was about to show her. Big time.

“I’m hardly a virgin, professor.”

A growl caught in my throat. I didn’t appreciate the image of other men fucking her. She was mine. And I intended to keep it that way by making her forget them all.

I clasped her hand and walked along the corridor. Groans and gasps seeped from Bridget’s room.

“Is she…is that…?” Chelsea asked.

“She’s working, yes.” I opened the door. “Come in, we’re shutting the rest of the world out for a while.

She stepped in and then paused.

I flicked the lock then tugged off my black t-shirt, set it on a straight-backed chair with a plush purple seat.

“What is this place?”

“It’s called the pleasure room.”

“Oh?” Her eyes were wide as she looked around. “Sounds fun.”

“And it’s easier to show you than explain how it works.”

“Go on then.” She turned, hands on her waist, hips cocked.

My belly clenched. I just wanted to fuck, get deep into her wetness and stay there until we were both undone with pleasure. “You should strip off your clothes quickly, otherwise they’ll be getting cut off with my knife.” I set my gun and knife in a drawer and closed it.

“You’re such a bad professor.” She giggled.

I wasn’t in a playful mood. My cock ached with need. I stepped up to her, grabbed her sinfully small dress, and yanked it. The sound of tearing material was satisfying, as was her pale flesh when it was revealed in two swift tugs.

“Oh!” She gasped and staggered toward me, naked.

Catching her in my arms, I pulled her close, her warm breasts flattening onto my chest. I plunged my tongue into her mouth, wanting to taste her, all of her, at once.

She trembled, a delicate little shake up her spine that reminded me she was new to me and my needs.

I took a moment to control my breathing and made a decision to keep my cock in my pants until it was time to fuck. I had to have some kind of regulator. I was only human. “Like this.” I raised her hands to the cuffs hanging from the ceiling. “Up, like this.” I fastened her into them.

“Oh…okay.”

The cuffs were a good height, stretching her torso and making her pert tits stick forward, ripe for my mouth.

Anticipation clenched my belly, and my heart rate quickened, lust running hotly through my veins. I ducked and took her right nipple into my mouth, using my hand to cup the underside and feed her flesh deeper.

She moaned and arched for more.

I gave it, suckling greedily as my free hand swept over her sweet curves.

“I’m going to kiss you all over.” I moved to her other breast. Her skin tasted of peaches and cream, and her nipples were pliant points, perfect for flicking with my tongue.

“Andrew…” she gasped.

I knew what she wanted and I dropped lower, so her pussy was right in front of me. “You ready to come?”

“Yes.” A flush had risen on her cheeks.

“How many orgasms do you want?”

“Hundreds…no, thousands!”

“Be careful what you wish for.” I grinned then poked out my tongue and swept it down her pubic hair to her clit.

The chain holding her clinked as she bucked toward me.

I spread her pussy lips, breathed deep, then set my mouth over her clit and drew it into my mouth in one deep suck.

“Oh fuck.” She swelled against my tongue, her flavor spreading.

I was a hungry beast who needed feeding. I speared three fingers into her pussy and fucked her with them. Without mercy I worked her clit, setting myself a challenge of having her coming within a minute of going down on her.

I wasn’t disappointed, and soon she was crying out, pulsing, shaking, and sweating. Her arousal leaked into my palm, and I clasped her ass, holding her closer. Soon I’d fuck her ass, but she didn’t need to know that yet. Chances were, by the time I’d finished, she’d hardly even know what I was doing.

“That good?” I asked, withdrawing and standing. Her arousal was spread on my chin, and I left it there, wanting her all over my body.

“So good.” She was panting. “You going to fuck me now, for my next orgasm?” She grinned.

“No, not yet.” I walked to the stack of drawers, opened the third down, and took out a massage wand. The handle was long and the wide head domed. It gave a wicked vibration that was designed for getting deep knots out of thick muscles—on a delicate clit it was a nuclear explosion, and it was high time Chelsea found that out.