3
Ansel
“Hello, Diana,” I greeted as I strolled into her office like I owned it.
“Ansel, what…what are you doing here?” Her question fell breathlessly past her parted, glossy lips. Her shock at seeing me unannounced left her with an awe-face for a few seconds.
Diana Edwards was my FBI contact and sub. She jumped from her chair and dashed around her desk. I stood in place as she approached and assumed the position on her knees like I’d taught her to. Her palms faced up, and her head hung low as she fought not to glance up at me.
“Permission to look at you, Sir? Can I speak freely?”
“Yes, you may, Diana,” I answered, my tone dry and monotone.
Ensuring she’d know I was all about business, I didn’t address her by her pet name. She glanced up at me through long lashes.
“Is everything okay?” she questioned in a rushed whisper. Her wide gaze ran the expanse of my body and lowered with a quick drop. “You usually don’t show up like this.” A naughty smile twisted her lips. “Did you come to play?” The sound of lust dripping from her lips wasn’t missed. Diana usually got my juices flowing, but I had no reaction this time.
I promise, my dick didn’t even move. Usually, he was ready for anything, but my dick continued to lay there with an arm tuck behind his head sucking his teeth as he stared at his nails. Man,fuck Diana! Regina, motherfucker. You know I want Regina.
I shook away my dick-thoughts long enough to answer Diana’s question.
“No, Diana. As much as I’d like to play, I didn’t come here for that.”
A deep frown followed her loud huff before she fell back on her heels making a black red-bottomed heel fall from her left foot. She stared at me like she wanted to punch me in the teeth, giving me a serious stink-face. My outstretched hand reached down to help her off the floor.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Ansel. My fucking pussy is drenched,” she murmured. “You’re sure you don’t want to play?” she queried again, glancing at the side of my head. I bent and picked up her shoe before handing it to her.
Leaning against her desk, she replaced the shoe before she dusted her skirt off. She stood staring, her irritated glint on full display. The quiet between us allowed the sound of Journey to register, playing low in the background asking,“Who’s crying now?”
“If you don’t want to play, there’s only one other reason you’re here,” she stated the obvious. Her frustration was evident in her edgy tone. Diana liked to embrace her inner freak as often as she could. She delved both ways. She played dominatrix to men who craved punishment, as well as she played the role of my submissive.
She stepped around her desk and fell back into her black and silver high-back leather chair. The city danced with life behind her tenth-floor view as she prepared to give me what I’d come for.
“If I played with you with the amount of anxiety I’m experiencing right now, I would hurt you.”
Her ears perked at those words. I should have known better than to say words that triggered her. Her face lit up with lust, knowing that I’d be more brutal than normal. I ignored her interested gaze.
“Do you have anything, Diana?”
My stiff tone and rigid posture highlighted my frame of mind and her gaze dropped. She twisted her lip as she adjusted her laptop and started typing. The muffled voices of her co-workers crept into her office from an unseen crack.
“Have a seat. I have a real live fucking monster for you,” she instructed, never removing her eyes from the monitor.
Diana was a busty brunette with an even, olive skin tone, nice body, and a pretty face. Being a pretty female in a male-dominated job gave her an advantage as most of the men fell all over themselves to help her. Diana had them fooled. She took advantage of their weaknesses and was now bossing men around that had once supervised her. She also didn’t hesitate to use nontraditional methods to bring justice to the world. I’d met her in the way I’d met most of my high-powered contacts—at an exclusive, members only, BDSM club.
My leg bounced as my body pulsed with a biting intensity I couldn’t get rid of while I sat and waited. It had been a while since my nerves or whatever it was that controlled anxiety had started to grate like metal scraping metal.
After a big kill like the Dominquez family, my anxiety should have remained on low for months. It didn’t. I didn’t drink like an alcoholic or take drugs like an addict when I needed to relax or decrease my stress levels. I sought other means of controlling my anxiety.
A lot of it had to do with me forcing myself not to touch Regina. Damn that woman. Never had I faced such temptation. After the temporary loss of Aaron, I’d calmed down considerably, but there was only so much calm I could muster before I was ready to explode.
“Ansel,” Diana called, capturing my attention. She handed me a yellow Post-it note with black writing scribbled on it.
When I reached for it, she drew it back and eyed me sternly.
“Need I remind you, if you get caught, this had nothing to do with me or the bureau?”
“I know, Diana. How many times have we done this?”
She shrugged. “I know, but I have a pretty nice ass to cover.” Her smile widened. “One that can be bent over this desk in a heartbeat if you change your mind about wanting to play.”
“As tempting as that offer is, I need to do this,” I stated as I snatched the Post-it from her manicured fingers.
I stood. “I’ll call you when it’s done.”
“Ansel, wait!” she called to my back because I was already heading towards her closed door. “You’re going to do it now?”
“Yep,” I answered without glancing back.