Bondage Celebration (18 page)

As James sat down, he caught a whiff of Amanda’s perfume. It was hard to describe. Without meaning to, he leaned closer, inhaling the elusive, but alluring scent.
Damn it.
He didn’t need another reason to be obsessed with her.

“Someone’s threatening Amanda and using the club’s closed circuit video system to do it. Show him the latest picture.” André pulled James’ thoughts back to the business at hand.

His protective instincts went into hyper-drive. He’d been a bodyguard long enough to know he needed to stay detached, yet with Amanda that wasn’t going to be easy. She had the girl-next-door look in spades. Her body had delicious curves that sent his imagination working overtime. But her innocent, pixie face made him feel world-weary. Though they were only a few years apart, he felt like a dirty old man. He would gladly protect her from any threat, but how would he protect her from himself?

Amanda scooted the envelope and the eight-by-ten color photo she’d received that afternoon toward James. The picture had been taken outside the club’s main building in an area that had been set up for fire-play. It was obvious the photo had been tampered with. Amanda’s face had been superimposed over another woman’s body. The picture was artistic in nature—red and orange flames contrasted against the grey smoke and black night. It was clear this frame of the video had been chosen with care.
Why?

As many times as he’d visited the club, he’d never spotted Amanda in a play area. It looked to him like she never ventured beyond her desk in the lobby area. He knew that couldn’t be true. Why would anyone work at a kink club and not at least occasionally enjoy the benefits the facility had to offer?

James took a closer look at the photo. While he wasn’t into fire-play, he understood the scene wasn’t one of violence. However, the words ‘
Roast Bitch’
written across the photo in red marker left little to the imagination. He doubted there would be any evidence to be garnered by the photo or envelope, but he was careful not to touch them anyway. Using the eraser head of a pencil, James removed the picture from the envelope. He noticed it was addressed to ‘
DiscipliNation, Attention: Amanda’
. “Is this the way most mail comes addressed?”

“No, some of the suppliers use my name if we’ve been working on something special, but normally mail is sent in the club’s name only,” Amanda explained.

“You said this was the latest threat, what else has happened?”
And why the hell wasn’t I notified after the first one?
Bringing it up at this point would only muddle the issue, but he did intend to make damn sure he was aware of each development from here on out.

“First, I received an email. It wasn’t such a blatant threat.” She shook her head. “I thought maybe it was a joke or something, so I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Bring it up on the laptop. He needs to see it.” André pointed to his computer lying at the end of the counter.

Amanda pulled it onto her lap and brought up her email. The image showed her face superimposed onto another woman’s body. The woman was tied to post and receiving a whipping. Across the bottom was written ‘
Let’s Party, Bitch’
.

“It was sent by a Master X. Do you know anyone who goes by that name? It sounds a little melodramatic.”

Amanda gave him a tenuous smile then shook her head. André confirmed what James had assumed. “We don’t have any members who use that name.”

“What else has happened?” He knew there was more. Amanda looked like hell. She had dark circles under her eyes and her hands had trembled as she’d logged into the computer. This had been bothering her for a while. James looked at the date on the message. She’d received it over a week ago.

“Last night after we’d closed up, I went out to my car. On the driver’s seat, I found another envelope with a picture inside. On that one he wrote, ‘
Die Slowly, Bitch’.
”

“Two things.” James held up his index finger. “Why are you walking out to your car alone at that time of the night—scratch that—morning? And two”—he held up his middle finger—“why didn’t you tell someone immediately? You can’t tell me you didn’t understand that was a threat.”

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest and with a haughty look, she shrugged. “I planned to tell André after the event tonight. But then I got this.” She pointed toward the picture.

Women…
He would never understand them. “What did you do with the second photo? It’s evidence and we’ll need it.”

“I hid it in the closet at my apartment.”

“Why did you hide it?” He had to ask. It seemed like an odd thing to do unless she had roommates or frequent visitors. Since he was going to be shadowing her for a while, he needed to know what the situation was.

“So I wouldn’t have to look at it.” Her tone suggested he wasn’t very smart if he had to ask such a question.

James felt a smile trying to break free at her logic. “Do you have any idea who is behind this?” He was glad she was at least answering his questions. In her capacity as the club’s receptionist, she’d always been a bit standoffish toward him.

Before Amanda had taken the job, submissives had volunteered to run the desk while the club was open. They were always bubbly and talkative as if they enjoyed the suspension of club protocols while they were working.

Amanda had seemed nervous every time he’d spoke with her, even though until tonight, he had gone to great lengths to speak to her using a soft, friendly voice. He wondered if her Dom kept her on a short leash—so to speak.

“I have no idea who would do this.”

James had had to strain to hear her. Amanda was speaking quietly and looking toward the ground. Was she being dishonest? It was hard to tell. She seemed naturally submissive. Perhaps she was showing respect by refusing to meet his eye.

“Who’s your Dom?” James wanted to have a few minutes in private with the asshole for not being with her while she was obviously upset. He took his role as Dom very seriously. Although he wasn’t in a committed relationship, he cared better for the women he occasionally scened with than her Dom was caring for her.

Her chin rose and her eyes flashed a spark of fire his way. “I don’t have a Dom.”

James raised an eyebrow at her surly attitude. Some in the lifestyle made a clear distinction between Doms and Masters. Now was not the time for that shit. “Okay, who’s your Master?” James had the desire to turn her over his knee and teach her a bit of respect. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his place. One thing was for sure, James had a damn poor opinion of her Master.

“I don’t have a Master.”

Her tone had a bite to it that he didn’t understand. He looked her in the eye, daring her to turn away. “I’m not playing a semantics game with you. Whose collar are you wearing?” James watched her hand move to her throat as if she’d forgotten she was wearing one. She didn’t answer verbally, but her eyes moved to look at André.

James looked between the two in confusion. He’d heard somewhere that Amanda was a distant relative. It seemed highly unlikely they were in a relationship. André had three live-in subs. He couldn’t see Amanda sharing.

“It’s a protection collar. She had a difficult relationship.” André shrugged his shoulders. “It ended badly. Until she’s ready to try again, I offered my protection. By wearing my collar, she could work here without having Doms approach her.”

James shelved that information away. He didn’t want to consider the implications until he was alone. “I’m going to need all the information you have on your ex. Is he or she vindictive enough to pursue you in this manner?” This job had just got a lot more complicated. He was very attracted to Amanda. When he’d thought she was taken, keeping his distance had been nearly impossible. Now knowing she was single, he didn’t have a prayer.

“No,
he
wasn’t like that.” Amanda was staring at her fingers as she twisted them into pretzels.

This time he was fairly certain she was lying. Why? Was she still in love with her ex? He would definitely be doing more digging into this subject. He was pleased she’d made it clear that she liked men. At least that was one thing in his favor.

“Do you have any suggestions on how to handle this?” André sounded frustrated.

“I’m free right now.” James didn’t feel the need to explain he’d been on medical leave since he’d found it necessary to put his body between a fast-moving SUV and his last client. He had no intention of allowing anyone else to guard Amanda, so the point was moot. A few cracked ribs and a concussion weren’t enough to sideline him when she needed his help. “I can manage security for Amanda. As far as handling the possible ramifications with the club, you should bring in Nick. And it might be a good idea to bring in Captain Bradley, as well.”

“Good idea. I’ll give Nick a call.” André looked deep in thought. “Maybe I should talk to him before I bring the police into this.”

“He’s here with his wife.”

André’s expression was almost comical he was so surprised. “Are you sure? Nick and Laura Branson?”

“I drove them here myself.” James struggled to keep his face blank. He found André’s shock rather amusing since the Bransons were part owners of the club.

“Could you find them and ask if they’d mind giving me a moment of their time?” André seemed as if he still had some doubts.

James was reluctant to leave Amanda. He was sure she was safe in André’s company, but he still didn’t like it. James took a moment to find the couple using the video screens. Now that he knew where to look, it wouldn’t take long to return to her. Before he left, James placed his hand over hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be right back.”

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About the Author

Tori lives in the beautiful Sonoran Desert with her loving husband of almost thirty years. She wakes up each morning to the howls of coyotes and the barking of her family dogs wanting to join the fray.

When Tori isn’t writing, she’s either spending time with her two, wonderful adult children, or creating stained glass art.

She likes her love stories scorching hot. She tries to infuse a fire and passion between her characters that rivals the blazing summer sun that Arizona is known for. Tori encourages you to bask in the heat between the covers of a Dominant/submissive, happily-ever-after, bondage romance.

Email:
[email protected]

Tori loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.totallybound.com
.

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