Blood and Bondage (8 page)

“Wait here. I’ll be back,” he shouted to Adam,
who leaned casually against the bar, eyeing a pretty brunette.

Then Oliver leapt up the stairs to the third
level of the nightclub and pushed his way through the hordes of half-drunk
partygoers until he stood staring at the back of the male vampire’s skull.

Oliver tapped the guy on the shoulder. “Pardon
me. Do you mind if I cut in?”

The bloodsucker barely acknowledged his presence.
“Get lost,” he answered, with a slight tilt of his head. However, Oliver
wouldn’t be denied. He slid out the stake he kept hidden inside his coat
pocket. Then he shoved his opponent back so he could look him square in the
face as he placed the pointed edge of the weapon to his heart. The man’s
eyebrows shot up in surprise once he saw the tip set against the lapel of his
stark white shirt.

The bastard stepped closer, his red orbs growing
darker until they’d been transformed into a dark, glossy haze. Fangs extended,
he sneered into Oliver’s ear; the threat came through loud and clear. Then, a
splotch of blood spread across his chest. But before Oliver could press the
stake all the way through, Anaïs stepped between them and knocked the weapon to
the floor.

“Both of you calm down,” she said as she stared
back and forth from one man to the other. Then, she turned to the vampire she’d
been dancing with earlier. “You’ll have to excuse me. It appears that my dance
card’s full for the rest of the night.”

The sly smirk that developed at the corners of
Oliver’s mouth proved priceless, better than if he’d rubbed salt in the
vampire’s bloody wound. His rival stuck his proverbial tail between his legs
and disappeared into the crowd.

Oliver snatched up Anaïs’s hand, and swept her
into his strong embrace. He grabbed her ass and thrust her against his steel
frame, rubbing his partial erection over the bundle of nerves that surrounded
her clit. Their bodies glued together, they grooved to the tempo of the fast-paced
techno beats. Hip to hip, the sexual tension between them sparked into a raging,
lust-laden inferno.

Oliver grasped both of his partner’s hands. He
thrust them behind her back, exerting his dominance and giving her very little
room to move. It seemed she could hardly breathe, let alone find a way to
escape. With Anaïs at his mercy, Oliver swooped in, his face mere inches from
hers.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Anaïs Moreau.” His
husky voice whispered in her ear. It was laced with hostility and unfulfilled desire.
Then he lowered his head and kissed her, slow and sensually while a hand
explored every facet of Anaïs’s magnificent flesh through her clothes. Soon, he
heard a soft moan slip past her lips and felt her tremble in his arms.

Oliver couldn’t hesitate; the time to act had
come. As he continued to distract her with his mouth, he reached one hand into
the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a zip tie. It was a simple, yet effective
tool he often employed when the need to apprehend a suspect presented itself.
As he locked the plastic apparatus into place, Anaïs’s body stiffened. The arch
of her spine lengthened, while the serene expression on her face became
replaced with an indignant scowl. Lifting her chin, she turned her nose to the
wind and refused to meet her lover’s simmering gaze.

“So this is what it’s come to? For God’s sake,
I’m a vampire, not a rabid animal. Must you tie me up like this?”

“Somebody’s gotta save you from yourself,”
Oliver smiled into the side of her cheek, half amused at her snooty show of
defiance. Maybe she thought it’d piss him off, but it only served to make him
hard and hornier than imaginable. “Besides, have you ever tried playing the
role of a submissive? You never know, you might enjoy letting someone else take
the lead for once.”

It had been a while since Oliver had been with a
lover, so he’d had lots of time to prepare. When it came to women, he’d often
come across as shy and reserved. Yet with Anaïs, the opposite seemed to be the
case. Maybe because she was a bloodthirsty vampire, he couldn’t be sure. Either
way, the commander in him had planned her seduction down to every last detail,
as if it were a covert mission. The only task that remained? Its flawless
execution.

Oliver picked his lover up and tossed her over
his broad shoulder, motioning to Adam below to meet them by the main entrance
on the second floor. Oliver carried Anaïs, his hand settled along the curve of
his plump derrière. Vampires and humans turned to stare as she kicked and
squirmed, trying like the devil to spring herself loose. In fact, he was
surprised she hadn’t sunk her fangs into one of the thick veins on his neck.

“Oliver. Put. Me. Down,” Anaïs screamed at the
top of her lungs. Still, very few people could hear her over the loud music in
the club.

The vampire’s flailing protests had an unfortunate
effect, at least for her. It caused the skirt she wore to rise significantly
and expose her nakedness. Oliver felt her soft, supple rear press into his palm.

Dear Lord, she not wearing anything underneath
the leather skirt.

Once inside the elevator, he shifted her in his
arms, and then glanced up. He couldn’t resist a peek. He eyed the vibrant
colors of a purple and gold wildflower tattoo that shimmered on her bare flesh.
It was surrounded by a web of intricately-woven vines that slid down the crevice
of her ass and pointed straight toward the sweet nectar hidden between her
thighs.

Sexy.

The elevator doors parted and Oliver jostled his
way through the crowd to get to the exit. Outside, Adam was waiting by the car,
the back door on the passenger side propped open.

“Get in. And fasten your seatbelt,” Oliver said
as he set Anaïs down on her feet. Then, he slid in next to her and tapped twice
on the headrest in front of him to let Adam know it was time to go.

The tires of the Range Rover squealed as it
quickly accelerated away from the curb. “Hey, boss. While you were upstairs
dealing with the girl, I got a call from Ronan. He was able to run the plates
on the blue sedan,” he said as he peered out the side mirrors as if looking for
that same pesky vehicle. “We’ve also got some intel from our European division
on Gaucher. It’s not much, but the report’s waiting for you on your desk.”

Oliver nodded, keeping his attention fixed on
Anaïs. She had her arms folded across the front. Her heaving breasts and the
sexy pout of her lips called to him from the adjacent seat.

Stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat, the
temptress shouted to Oliver from inside her head. Of course, he knew she wanted
him to hear every word. He smiled, and then reached out to tease a loose
tendril of her red hair.

My how the tables have been turned, Oliver
thought to himself. Too bad she couldn’t hear what he’d said.

Chapter Nine

Total Submission

During the forty-five minute car ride from the
nightclub to BPA headquarters, Anaïs let her temper stew. She’d wasted time
kicking and screaming like a spoiled rotten child until she’d nearly turned
blue in the face. However, in the end, she realized it hadn’t done much good. Oliver
remained as stubborn and strong willed as ever.

“Get out of the car,” he said; the curt, authoritarian
sound of his voice left no room for negotiation.

 
Anaïs bit
her tongue, making every attempt to quell her anger and keep her trap wired shut.
Then she climbed dutifully out of the back seat. She hadn’t been able to see
much of the terrain due to the Range Rover’s dark, tinted windows. But once in
the open air, the captivating surroundings left her in awe and served as a
momentary reprieve from her inner rage. The light from the moon’s rays
illuminated the classic Victorian-style home where Oliver and most of his team
worked and lived. It was a stunning sight. The hundred year old residence
looked pristine, kept in its original nineteenth century condition by what
appeared to be a skilled craftsman familiar with every facet of the painstaking
restoration process.

The wood siding on the house had been
meticulously shaped into semi-circles, then hand-painted with a pale shade of
grey. There was a large wrap-around porch and pearly white plantation shutters perfect
for keeping cool during the warm summer months. The picturesque estate was
lined by rows of cherry blossom trees and rolling green hills that reminded
Anaïs of the French countryside. Without a doubt, the person responsible for
the upkeep of the property possessed impeccable taste and spent countless hours
making sure it was well-maintained.

“Adam, get her upstairs into the guest room next
to mine. And make sure she stays restrained.” Oliver strode into the house. He
shoved open a door tucked underneath the stairwell, and locked himself inside.

 
As soon
as Anaïs had been escorted into the room and properly restrained, she kicked
off her high-heeled boots and flopped on the large four-poster bed in the
middle of the room. It seemed like hours before Oliver even bothered to check
on her. She’d been waiting a long time and wanted to get up and walk a bit.
Unfortunately, the handcuff that tethered one hand to the headboard didn’t
allow for much freedom of movement. Her only consolation was the view afforded
by the large picture window a few feet from the bed.

The curtains were drawn and Anaïs could see the
billowy clouds move past the window, revealing a sky filled with bright, bountiful
stars. The night was peaceful and quiet, the only sound the hoot of an owl perched
in a tree nearby.

Lost in the scenic tranquility, she didn’t
notice that Oliver had entered the room. He stood in the doorway, watching. The
intensity of his stare burned through Anaïs, making her skin sizzle. The energy
between them was electric, as always. Finally alone with the man she’d been
fantasizing about for days, she could feel the waves of desire rolling in, a
high tide of covetous need crashing over them both.

“Hey there. You doing okay?” Oliver asked,
breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Anaïs turned her gaze toward
the window once again. “This place. It’s beautiful.”

“I think so too.” Oliver walked to the edge of
the bed, his steps slow and deliberate. “It’s a labor of love. But my father
was a carpenter and he taught me a lot of the tricks of the trade.”

“You did all this?” Anaïs asked, a smile lit up the
corners of her mouth. Oliver nodded his head, then looked away as if bashful. “Wow!
I’m impressed.” The BPA’s counsel general was full of surprises and she yeaned
to uncover more.

Oliver scooted closer, the top of his hand
grazing the bare skin on the underside of her thigh. With the other hand, he
rubbed the muscles on the back of his neck. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about
you. Tell me how you met Gaucher.”

Anaïs rolled her eyes, annoyed at the seamless
way he’d been able to divert the conversation. In fact, talking was the last
thing on her mind. With the heat of his body next to her, she felt compelled to
reach out and twiddle her fingers in the dark, curly hairs that peeked out from
his half-buttoned shirt. The poor guy had been hard at work all night, scouring
over documents pertinent to the investigation. He hadn’t even had time to
change into more comfortable clothes.

“Let’s make a deal. First, we’ll play. Then,
I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Oliver snatched up the hand that dawdled on his
chest. His firm grip dug into the tender skin of her wrist. He leaned in, and the
scent of musk and masculinity wafted past her nose. Underneath it, the
irresistible lure of his blood called to her. Anaïs could hear the trickle of
liquid swish through his veins. More than anything, she wanted to suckle his
neck and savor its flavor. But Oliver held tight, letting her know that he
planned to set the pace. At least, for tonight.

“I’ll take you up on that offer. But only on one
condition,” Oliver said, his attention focused on the swell of her breasts.
They rose and fell with each inhale and exhale of her breath.

“What’s that?”

“I’m in charge. You’ll do exactly as I say.” The
rumble of his voice as he uttered the sultry demand reverberated through her,
sending shivers down her spine. “Now stand up and remove your clothes. I want
to see you. All of you.”

Unable to speak, Anaïs did what her lover asked.
Due to the handcuff on her right wrist, she couldn’t pull her clothing over her
head. She unzipped her leather skirt and lowered it past her thighs. Then, she
slid the matching halter top down until the slinky black material fell to the
floor. The wind from the open window whipped around the room, and made both of
her nipples stiffen into tight, aching peaks.

For a brief moment, Oliver stared, his blue eyes
memorizing the shape and contour of her subtle curves. He paid particular
attention to her small, round breasts.

“Turn around,” he said, making circles in the
air with his index finger until she obliged. Then from the corner of her eye,
she watched him open the top drawer of the night stand by the bed, and pull out
an object. It had a wooden handle that connected to nine long strips of thick braided
leather. At the end of each one, a red silk rose was woven into the hide.