Page 13 of Salacious Devotion

“I didn’t get to see your body, baby.”

She swallows hard, nodding. “I wondered if that was going to work for you. I was afraid you might insist and ruin everything.”

I close my eyes. “Ruin everything… You mean your grand plan to cut me out of your life like I meant nothing?” My anger keeps coming back to the surface. I can’t stop it. There’s a war inside me. A war between the elation of finding out the only woman I ever loved is standing right in front of me, not dead, and knowing that she voluntarily walked away and never looked back. That part hurts.

“That’s not fair, Dane. You meant everything to me. That’s why I left. To keep you safe. To keep everyone I knew safe. What if my face had been plastered all over the news as the lone survivor? I saw him, Dane. I saw that asshole. I helped the FBI figure out who they were looking for. He’s out there somewhere. He knows I saw him. He knows what I looked like. The FBI had to act fast. They had to make a decision. I wasn’t conscious when they decided to tell the world there were no survivors. They hoped when I woke up, I would agree.”

I purse my lips, trying to understand.

Paige slips out of my arms and paces the room. “You don’t understand how fucking difficult it was to turn my back on everyone I knew, everyone I loved. By the time I woke up, you had already been told I was dead. My father was making arrangements for my funeral. The FBI spent hours explaining to me what would happen if the killer knew there had been a survivor.”

I growl in frustration. I get it. I do. I just hate it. I’m fully aware of how “persuasive” the FBI can be with witnesses. They need to keep them alive. I’m sure they told her everyone she knew would be murdered in their sleep, and maybe they were right.

She’s crying again. She’s ripping my heart out.

I go to her and open my arms. “Please, baby. I need to hold you.”

She comes to me.

I wrap her in my arms, not fully able to breathe except when I’m holding her. I don’t know when I’ll be able to stop touching her. When will I be able to sleep again? Not for a long time. I’ll be too scared to close my eyes. Afraid if I open them again, I’ll find out this was all a dream. She’s still dead. I’m still mourning her.

“We’ll stay here tonight. You’ll call in sick in the morning. I’ll do the same. My people can handle things without me. I have my computer here, and whatever we need, Drake and Easton can get it. We’ll both say we have the ugliest stomach flu ever. Been heaving all night. Not sure when we’ll be better. Fever. Shakes. Vomiting. Diarrhea. Whatever it takes.”

She inhales deeply and then nods. “Okay.”

“Do you have a burner phone you use to contact your handler?”

She smirks. “Do you know everything about the US Marshal Service?”

“Yes. I work in security, baby. I know everything about every organization. I have worked with the US Marshal Service before. I’ve helped them coordinate relocations, in fact. That will help. I have contacts. They’ll be less leery about our plan when they find out who I am.”

“You’re so sure of yourself.”

“Yes.” I don’t hesitate. We will figure this out. There are no other options.

She leans against me again, using her full body weight this time. “He’s going to be pissed. We’re not supposed to do anything that remotely looks like our old life. For me, that would include coming to a BDSM club.”

“What made you come here tonight?”

“I was so lonely. It’s been three years since I’ve even had dinner with a man. Three years since I did anything kinky. I did a lot of research and determined this was one of the most elite clubs in the Seattle area. I discovered that the owners were very well-respected. I decided to treat myself to a year’s membership for my birthday. I’d hoped I could find some solace here. I know I wasn’t supposed to join a club, but what were the chances anyone would ever make a connection between me and my former life? And no one would flinch about my identity. People often don’t use their real names in clubs. That wouldn’t be weird. It seemed foolproof. And then you stepped in front of me.”

“Thank fuck. Are you hungry? When have you eaten, baby?”

She shakes her head. “I couldn’t eat if I tried. I’m fine.”

“Is there anything you need tonight that I might not have? Any medicines or toiletries?”

“No. I’m fine.” She looks past me. “I do need one thing from you, Dane.”

“Anything, baby.”

“I need you to spank me. No, I need you to paddle me.” She looks in the other direction toward the armoire. “I bet you have all kinds of implements in that cabinet.”

I stare at her. I’d give anything to dominate my girl like I used to, but is it the best idea tonight? “Baby…”

She pushes away from me and shuffles across the room toward the armoire. She opens it and looks inside. “That’s what I suspected.” She reaches out to stroke a few different floggers before choosing one and lifting it from the hook. She grabs a paddle next.

When she turns around, a wry smile crosses my face. “I don’t think you remember how submission works, Paige.”

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