Page 19 of Tell Me Your Desires
“You will look at me while you feast on me,” Lady A demanded. “I will see in your eyes if you are truly remorseful and whether you deserve forgiveness or punishment.”
Her sub’s head remained bowed until the blindfold fell away.
“Yes, my Lady.” Detective Baros’ soulful dark eyes shone even in the dim room.
“Jesus!” Anya bolted upright in her bed, startling Derek, who jumped down and scurried away. She laid a hand over her thundering heart. “Fucking shit! Seriously, Anya? You have a fucking wet dream about the detective who wants to slap the cuffs on you?”
Her stomach did a little dip at that. Anya wasn’t impressed that she was turned on by the thought of Detective Baros and handcuffs. Though if she were honest, the detective being the one who was cuffed was far more appealing than the other scenario.
“Nope. You are not going to do this. That woman thinks you’re a murderer. I highly doubt she’s having sexy dreams about you, so stop it.” Anya settled back on her pillow, ignoring the annoying ache below the waist.Nope, she thought again. “Derek!”
“Meow.” Derek’s answer was muffled, which meant he was hiding under the couch.
“I’m sorry I scared you. It’s over now. You can come back.” Nothing. “Come on, kitty boy. I promise there will be no more dreams about the sexy detective.” Anya rolled her eyes at herself. Her reaction to Detective Baros felt disrespectful to Maisie. And just like that, Anya was sad again.
“Derek, come on, kitty boy. Come snuggle with me. I could use a friend right now.”
She felt her bed dip slightly when Derek jumped up. He crawled on Anya’s stomach and began his kneading ritual.
“I keep telling you, it’s not getting any more comfortable. Now, can you lie down and go to sleep, please? And do me a favor? Keep the dreams away. You can do that, right?”
After deciding she was taking a few days off—fuck Frank—Anya fell back into an uneasy sleep. This time her dreams were of Maisie. That kind, eager face, laughing and joking one minute, and the next, she was gone. Even in her dreams, Anya wondered how Maisie’s family would cope.
Chapter Seven
“I don’t care,Frank. You lied to me. Money was more important to you than a human life. Myfriend’slife. I’m taking some time off.”
“Come on, A. I have a business to run here. The ladies count on me to keep them busy. Some of these chicks need this. I’m just looking out for my girls.”
From ladies to chicks to girls. Next, Frank would probably degrade tobitches. His hero complex only served to piss Anya off even more. “You do what you have to do, Frank. So will I. I’m taking a few days.”
“Two,” Frank negotiated.
“Three or more. And if you keep arguing with me, I won’t come back at all,” Anya said firmly before Frank could respond. “Don’t push me, Frank. Let me mourn Maisie.”
She hung up and leaned on the counter. Her call to Frank was for more than just taking time. She wanted to know if Maisie had a family. Someone she could send flowers to or a donation to. Anything to help during this devastating time. But Frank was useless. ‘We don’t take that kind of information here.’
“Guess I’ll have to find the info myself, hmm?” Anya said to Derek as he licked himself. She shook her head. “You’re about as useful as Frank.”
“Meow.”
“Yeah, meow yourself.” Anya picked up her laptop and took it to the couch. She opened it up, poising her fingers on the keyboard. Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall every conversation she had had with Maisie. The most personal they’d got—besides having sex—was discussing what Maisie wanted to do. Why she was there at the club. She never spoke of family or her life outside the club. Hell, Anya hadn’t even known Maisie’s last name until the detectives had told her.
She contemplated calling Frank again. He wouldat leasthave that information. But the thought of hearing his voice again made Anya’s skin crawl.
“Would she be on social media? How many Maisies could there be in this area?” Anya typed in the search bar. To her surprise, there weren’t many, and none of them wereherMaisie. “Shit. Aren’t the kids these days into all this social media stuff?”
“Meow.” Derek nudged his way into Anya’s lap, effectively moving her computer out of his way.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
“Meow.”
Anya sighed and scratched his head. She tried searching the other social sites with the bit of info she had. Nothing popped for her. What if Maisie wasn’t her real name? People were constantly changing things about themselves. Especially in this profession. A new name, new boobs, new fake tan, new veneers to help their smile. Anything to ramp up the intrigue or keep the anonymity. Isn’t that what Anya did with the moniker Lady A?
“I’ll keep an eye on the news. Maybe I’ll learn something new about the young woman who worked with me the past couple of years.”
“Meowww.”
