Page 40 of The Keeper

“I did,” he agreed. “But we’re agreed about Acosta? If so, I think Brock or one of the other guys is better to go with me.”

The two men up front groaned again, and Fitz said, “This is where I hang up because that beautiful redhead sitting at your side is about to show you her claws. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, but for the record, I’m on Miley’s side. Acosta isn’t going to see a woman, especially a beautiful one dressed to the nines, as much of a threat. Miley’s cell phone has a GPS tracker. She also has one in the heels of her shoes, in some pieces of jewelry, and in her guns.”

Damon whistled. “Just your female operatives?”

“Hell, no. They’re less inclined to get themselves in trouble. It’s those of us with cocks and balls that tend to act without a solid plan and get in over our heads. We’ll have a full assault team standing by. Trust her Damon. I didn’t just assign her to your case because I thought you’d be good for each other.”

“I knew it,” snarled Miley. “I knew it.”

“Try to keep her from plotting my death, Damon. Right now, she’d have JJ’s blessing.”

Miley started to chuckle. JJ routinely wanted to kill Fitzwallace and usually settled instead on doing something that would normally really piss him off.

They arrived back at the Folly Beach safe house and once Liam and Dusty had secured the premises, Miley and Damon went inside.

“We’ll keep watch until the rest of the lads get here,” said Liam in his Irish accent.

Liam was another transplant from the London office, having served in MI5 or MI6—Miley could never remember which—and been made the scapegoat for an op that had gone horribly wrong. Fitz had literally been waiting for him when he left whichever organization’s headquarters and offered him a job on the spot.

“Thanks, Liam. I’m really sorry about Jimmy. I know you two came over together.”

“He was a good kid, but he signed up to take his chances just like the rest of us. Who’d have thought someone would make a booby trap like that. Talk about horrific. Francesca Acosta was one sick bitch. I hope she rots in Hell for all eternity.”

“I have no doubt about that,” said Damon, putting his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “All of you have my condolences…”

“He’s not going to do the whole guilt thing, is he?” scoffed Liam. “Because if he is, I’ll be happy to punch him for you.”

“If he needs punching, I can do it myself, thank you very much,” said Miley.

“Yeah, but Doms tend to react badly to their subs doing that sort of thing. By the way, that’s a gorgeous collar. I think you may be giving JJ a run for most spoiled sub.”

Miley smiled and touched the exquisite collar almost reverently. “I don’t ever want to know how much it cost, but just between you, me, and the fencepost, I’d be honored to wear a strand of yarn if it was Damon who gave it to me.”

Liam laughed. “Oh, you are so gone on him.” He looked at Damon. “You’d best do right by her or the rest of us will be looking for your head on a platter, and she isn’t Cerberus’ only female sniper.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Damon, shaking his hand. “I’m beginning to think all you big, badass Doms at Cerberus, Baker Street, and Club Southside are just a wee bit afraid of the female operatives.”

“If you’re only figuring that out now,” laughed Liam, “you ain’t been paying attention.”

Damon took Miley by the hand and led her back to the bedroom, propelling her toward the bed. “Get naked, get on the bed, and spread your legs for me.”

He’d been expecting some resistance but received none. She stripped out of her clothes and moved up onto the bed, scooching up so her back was against the pillows that were stacked against the iron headboard.

“I get the distinct feeling someone familiar with the lifestyle decorated this place. This bed has all kinds of things to which you could bind somebody.”

She shook her head. “No binding until the op is over.” She moved into a better position before spreading her legs wide and showing him the glistening evidence of her arousal at the entrance to her pussy. “Is this what you wanted, Sir?”

He wondered if she had any idea what the way she said ‘Sir’ did to him? The way his dick bounced every time she did, combined with the merriment dancing in her eyes told him she did. Her long, shapely legs were bent at the knee and spread wantonly in invitation and need. He meant to see to both.

Damon removed his clothes and loved the way her eyes focused on his hard cock jutting up towards his navel. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked gently. “Would this be the rigid part of my body that you liked?”

“Yes, Sir. Absolutely, Sir.”

He crawled onto the bed and maneuvered himself until he was between her legs. He inhaled deeply, relishing the scent of her arousal and anticipating the sweet wild honey he would find between her legs.

Miley’s body was trembling—not from fear or cold but from primal need. She was in desperate need of his attention, and he meant to give it to her. Stretching out and lifting her legs over his shoulders on either side of his head, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and lowered his mouth to her sex, tasting her like a Michelin critic would the dessert at the finest restaurant.

She was rich and sweet like the most rarefied honey, and he thought he would never get enough of her. Running his tongue around her clit, he gave her enough attention so that her clit became swollen before he dragged his tongue down through her labia and circled the entrance to her core. He rolled his tongue and speared her with it, fucking as deep as he could while he held her still. Miley thrashed under his skillful attention but couldn’t get away. There would come a time when he would tie her to their bed and torture her with pleasure for hours.

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