Page 45 of Black Sheep

She swallows and nods.

The kit arrives in minutes. “Lie on the bed.”

When she’s stretched out, I dig out the special cream and smear a large drop on my fingers. I don’t know where the hell B discovered it, but the cream numbs while providing exceptionally fast healing. An extremely useful resource in a BDSM club.

Cleo flinches when the cool cream touches her skin. I struggle not to grit my teeth as I massage the medication gently over her abused skin and watch the tension slowly leave her face.

When I’m sure the numbness is in full effect, I gently probe her ribs. Her breath hitches, but from the swift pebbling of her nipples, I’m certain it’s from something other than pain.

He didn’t break a rib.

I cap the tube, toss it away and rise. The closet that resembles the one from my childhood holds three dresses. I pick the one that’ll be least aggravating to put on and return to the bed.

“Sit up,” I command.

She slowly rises and drops her legs over the side of the bed.

“How do you feel?”

The breath she takes is a little deeper. “Better. Thanks.”

I hold out the dress. “Can you put this on by yourself?” I’m nearing the limits of touch-Cleo-without-exploding.

She takes it and eyes me. “Are we going somewhere?”

I bare my teeth in a sick smile that makes her eyes widen. I cup the erection that hasn’t abated despite the lunacy that permeates the room. My vision blurs for a second. “I’m fucked up enough to still want to fuck you black and blue on top of your black and blue. Putting clothes on that body might help with that problem.”

Her face heats up, and her eyes darken, and fuck if that doesn’t ramp up my temperature even higher. She pulls the black and white striped dress over her body and stands. It glides seductively over her hips to rest just above her knees. I mourn the loss of the sight of her pussy.

She glances toward the closet. “What about…umm…panties?”

I raise an eyebrow. “What about them?”

“Am I going to wear any?”

“No. It’s going to be a long trip. I’m leaving my options open on that score just in case I have an urge to finger you at some point tonight.”

The moment she steps into her heels, I place my hand on the small of her back and steer her toward the door.

“You still haven’t said where we’re going.”

“You know where the fuck we’re going. Where we’ve been headed since you showed up. You’ve pushed hard and bravo, sweetheart, I’ve cracked. So we’re going to Connecticut. To see your…” Every description of who he is to her sticks in my throat. Every reminder of who he is to me burns a path of rage through me. “I was going to leave him to stew for a while longer, but this,” I drift a hand down her side, “has got my attention. So yeah, we’re most definitely going to see Finnan.”

I watch her intently, searching for signs of triumph.

But either she’s mastered the perfect poker face in the last decade or whatever game plan she’s pursuing isn’t realized yet. She chews on her lower lip in the time it takes for us to reach the elevator.

“You should be happy, Cleo,” I whisper in her ear. “Ecstatic.”

“Are you…Is he going to like what you have to say?”

I laugh, deeply and bitterly. In all this, she still only cares about him.

“That depends on whether he’s grown wiser and smarter with age or not. Either way, it’ll be an offer he won’t be in a position to refuse.”

PART TWO

CLEO

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