Page 22 of Donovan Blake: Passion

Wedged into the left side of the frame was a tiny camera. The moment Alexi strode into the room and stared at the empty frame, Donovan had mumbled, “I knew he was behind this.”

“Your plan worked so well,” Phoebe exclaimed as they watched the scene play out on Donovan’s laptop. “It’s brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. But I still think you should have had the portrait delivered so you could catch him red-handed.”

“Catching him with one piece isn’t enough. Look how he walked away with no consequences from the debacle in Southampton. Besides, I knew the shock of seeing nothing but framed glass would throw him into a rage, and now we have a recording of him saying… you have three days to bring me that portrait from Hawthorne Hall. He’s literally ordering those guys to commit a crime and threatening them with death if they don’t. And there was another thing. When I was talking to Peter I knew it would be a battle to get him to agree. He didn’t want it to leave Hawthorne Hall.”

“Ooh…” Phoebe murmured. “I’m sure, especially after he’d thought it had been stolen.”

“Exactly, and if Alexi had removed it from the frame there’s no telling where it might have ended up. It may have been lost to Peter forever. Before that frame is moved I’m hoping the camera will pick up some useful information, like, who his buyers are, or where he keeps his stolen property.”

“You mean we have to sit out here all night?’

“Lord no, I just need to find a place to hide this,” he declared, lifting a small black box from his briefcase. “But at this time of night it’s not so easy. We should probably just leave the car parked here overnight and catch a cab to the hotel around the corner. We could walk there, but I think it would be too far to lug the suitcases.”

“The hotel will have shops.”

“But they won’t be open now,” he replied, shooting her a look.

“Oh, right. Why don’t we just grab a few things and throw them in my overnight bag. If we need anything else we can pick it up in the morning.”

“Are you sure you’re not worried about walking down the street at this hour?”

“Did you forget how we first crossed paths?”

“Ah, yes, in a dark street during a raging storm in the middle of the night while I was being attacked by two thugs, all because you love an adrenalin rush.”

“Exactly. I have a passion for it,” she murmured, leaning across the console and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Like I have a passion for you. Let’s do it.”

* * *

By the time Donovan and Phoebe reached the hotel they were exhausted. The dramatic events of the day, the long drive and late night hour, had caught up with them. Peeling off their clothes, they slid between the sheets and fell asleep. But when they woke up the following morning with their limbs entwined and their naked bodies pressed against each other, their crackling chemistry ignited.

“What did you say about passion last night?” he grunted, kneading her breasts from behind as he sucked on her neck.

“That I have it for you,” she panted. “I swear I want you so much.”

Abruptly pushing her onto her stomach, he grabbed her hips, jerked them up, and landed a flurry of hot smacks on her upturned backside.

“Why are you spanking me? What have I done?”

“I don’t need a reason, I just love doing it. And you love it too.”

“Oh, my God, I do…and I want you.”

He’d left condoms on the nightstand, and reaching past her body he snatched one up, tore open the packet and hastily sheathed his stiffened cock.

“How much?” he teased, placing himself at her glistening entrance.

“Please, Donovan?” she begged, staring at him over her shoulder.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he shot back, slapping her again. “How much.”

“Very much, desperately.”

“Desperately works,” he muttered, slowly thrusting into her channel. “I wish we were in my dungeon right now. I’d shackle you to the spanking bench.”

“I would love that…”

“Yeah, I know,” he grunted, “but since your hands are free, put one against your pussy and rub your clit, but don’t you dare come.”

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