Page 18 of Vengeance of Childhood Proportions

As I was lowering my mouth to the straw, a deep voice said, “I’d rethink drinking that if I were you, Little Owl.” My back stiffened as I straightened on the stool. I felt heat immediately surround me as two arms placed themselves on the bar on either side of me. Jason would beat me black and blue if he knew I’d dropped my guard enough to let someone walk up behind me unnoticed. Shivers flowed through my entire being when I felt his lips on the shell of my ear. “I won’t fuck you if that straw touches your lips.”

Chapter Eight

Mal

She smelled of crisp soap,something woodsy with a hint of citrus. It surprised me, because I was used to the strong floral perfumes most women go for. But I didn’t hate it. In fact, it was refreshing. The way her skin visibly shivered at my nearness turned me on more than that entire experience in the bathroom had. I was so fucking hard for this woman, which shouldn’t be possible. I’djustemptied my balls into the mouth of stranger. At my age, I should have needed a blue pill to get it up again so fast.

Yet here I was, ready to pound nails at the sight of that fucking owl mask.

In the lighting of the bar, I got a better look at her profile. The black feathered mask was simple, but elegant. Individual feathers stood upright above her eyes with diagonal ones accentuating her cheek bones under them. The bridge of her nose was covered by four vertical feathers. A black maxilla beak was bending over her nose tip and covering part of her philtrum.

From my angle, I still couldn’t see the color of her eyes. I desperately wanted to change that.

To her credit, she didn’t cower. I was a big guy. At six-four, there was a lot of me. It wasn’t like we’d spoken much at our last encounter where I could confidently say she would remembermy voice. I knew I was being forward, caging her in as I was. I was not the sort to sit back or beat around the bush. I saw something I wanted and I took it—within reason, of course.

And this little owl? Fuck, I wanted her.

I could see how my nearness affected her. From where I stood, I saw through the green mesh covering her top half and down her front to the cleavage outlined by her bra. The rapid rise and fall of her breasts and the way her nipples tightened up was visible. That minuscule piece of lace might cover her, but it provided no padding to keep her nipples from showing.

She turned her head slightly to the right. I backed off enough where she could move and I could finally see her eyes. They were a cool blue. While the shading paired with the color her hair was today, I had a feeling both were as fake as her name.

Head tipped, eyes on mine, she lowered her head down, put the straw into the corner of her mouth, and took a sip of her Dirty Shirley drink.

Chapter Nine

Holly

I barely tastedthe sweet and tangy flavor of my drink. My entire body was focused on the special agent crowded around me.

After we’d watched the agent and his partner outside my high school the day Christopher’s body had been discovered, Jason had gotten a dossier on him.

Special Agent Shawn “Mal” Mallory was thirty-seven. He’d graduated from the University of Juneau with a Bachelor of Criminal Justice in 2007. He joined the FBI, living in Quantico, Virginia, from 2008 to 2011, when he finally received his requested transfer back home to Alaska. He’d been working out of the field office in Juneau since, but traveled all around the state for various cases. He’d often had to visit the other FBI headquarters in Fairbanks.

His current department was Violent Crimes, though he’d worked in the White Collar and Organized Crime divisions over the years.

What I found most impressive was his need to solve a case because he’d gotten the right criminal over solving the case to close it. He’d filed more than one report over the years to complain about a fellow agent jumping to conclusions orharassing a suspect without substantial proof. That took a lot of balls, in my opinion.

The morning after my attack, Jason had found me barricaded inside the drama department’s pillory. I’d been bloody, cold, and in such a state of shock that I didn’t fully remember being taken out of my bondage. I recalled the ambulance ride. Atelihai Valley was small but we had a hospital that was shared with other towns inside the peninsula.

Parker Shah and Cordelia Young were the two responding EMTs who brought me to the hospital. Dr. Peter Sorgin and Roberta Quinn were the emergency room doctor and nurse team who admitted me.

Principal Hagley and Sheriff Renfrew had seen me before my own parents had. They persuaded all four of the medical staff members to pretend my injuries were not so horrid, to lose my rape kit, and/or forget my existence. All for a fucking high school hockey tournament.

One look at Agent Mallory’s dossier and I’d known in a heartbeat that he never would have stood by and allowed my attack to go unpunished. But I also knew that that punishment would be within the limits of the law.

As I stared into the agent’s dark green eyes, I understood why he had a reputation at work for being a hard-ass. There was a natural confidence in him that I’d trained years to get. It was obvious why Jason had taken one look at him outside my old high school and knew from a distance that this man was a Dominant. Itoozedoff of him like a cologne of pure sex appeal.

I was a sexual submissive. I’d learned that about myself years ago when I’d first talked to Jason about wanting to try to have sex again. The first time I’d come to the club I’d been so enamored with the pole dancer on stage that I’d barely registered the submissives on their knees or the Dominants standing over them. It had taken a few times of me visiting afterI’d turned twenty-one to fully register the significance of where I was and what Jason was trying to show me.

I knew immediately that being a Domme was not for me. It wasn’t because I wasn’t strong enough or didn’t have the spine. Being Dominant was about so much more than giving orders or showing strength. Jason was showing me the courage it took tokneel. The option tolet goand give myself over to someone else so entirely that I gave them the honor of my body in exchange for pleasure. A true power exchange.

When I’d explored my sexuality, though, I still needed Jason’s presence. While I’d never been up in the private rooms before, I had had a few trysts with Doms in dark corners or been flogged against the wall. Jason made it clear to any Doms that approached me that I was not to be bound or taken from behind.

And yet, I’d allowed this special agent before me now to bend me over the dance pole and fuck me from behind with only a simple sentence spoken between us. The fact that I’d orgasmed with him still baffled me. Jason had called me out a few times for faking an orgasm just to end the experience with a Dom instead of using my safe word.

Submissive though I was, I was not a brat. I knew plenty of subs who were. I saw them being defiant because they and their Dom got off on the punishment that would follow. Punishments were not my forte. I took pain because I could but I did not get off on it.

So then why had I taken a drink when the moisture growing between my legs told me how much I wanted this man to fuck me again?

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