Occupational Hazards Ch. 03

I scowled. At least she understood what she had with him wasn't good.

She leaned her head back and laughed, shaking her head. "And then last week happened. I couldn't believe you were standing right there. In the bathroom hallway of all places! I'd had such a crappy day. A crappy night. I thought at first I had imagined you. But then I saw the way you were looking at me. It was just as I'd always dreamed it would be. And a shred of hope was rekindled. My heart was beating so fast. I thought, 'Finally! It only took twenty-four years for Ben Hoskins to pay attention, but I'll take it.' I was wrong, though." She frowned. "I was back there in high school...and you didn't know who I was. Because you never knew."

I found myself at a loss for words. Her admission weighed down on me, filling me with guilt. Then I felt angry. How was I to know how she had felt all those years ago? Not to be egotistical, but I'm sure she wasn't the only girl I'd overlooked that had eyes for me. Besides, lots of guys didn't know about their secret crushes. I assumed the same was for the girls... Were we all to be blamed for our youthful ignorance?

Yet, her words also left me in awe that someone could or would carry a crush for four years. To hold out hope that long. Here I had thought my obsession for the past six days was slightly irrational. Now, I was both flattered...and a tad bit concerned.

"When I realized that time had not changed anything," she continued, "I squashed that dream again. I hadn't counted on you not giving up. To find myself sitting in your car. The irony..."

My voice finally decided to work, and it revealed my frustration. "Damn it, woman! I didn't know! But ever since Friday... Do you have any idea... Well, shit!"

I grabbed her behind her neck and pulled her forward before she could respond, smashing my mouth against hers. Swallowing her cry. Her whole body stiffened. But as I softened the kiss—teased her mouth with my tongue—I heard her moan, and she started to relax in my grip.

I released her just as quickly, hearing her whimper of surprise as I said, "I'm sorry."

We both retreated to our sides of the car. Breathing hard.

After a moment, she whispered, "Why did you stop?"

I blinked at her. Incredulous. After all she'd been through today? "I'm trying to show restraint."

"Please, don't."

"But you...after he... I can't."

She dipped her chin, but her eyes stayed on mine. "I told him, 'No.' Not you."

I tried to speak but found it difficult. So I lifted my hands to reach for her again. She sat up, her lower lip rolled into her mouth with just the hint of white teeth holding it in place. My pants grew tighter.

"No, not here. Not like this." I wasn't sure if I was saying it more to her or myself. Because the memories—the training—from that time undercover before? They were returning en masse. And it made the adrenaline flow. If I wasn't careful, it would consume me like it had once before. And that's the last thing either of us needed right now. I would not be another Hunter to her. She deserved so much more than that.

Ignoring my belt, I shifted into reverse and zipped backwards out of the alley. Slammed on the brakes and shifted again, lurching us forward in the same direction we had come from. I barely stopped at the sign on the main drag before getting back on track to my place.

She didn't say anything. But when I risked a sideways glance, I saw her turn away. Raise a hand to press it to her face.

I wound through the streets, trying not to think of how soft her lips were. Their warmth. That she tasted like the cola she'd been drinking at the diner. How despite saying all she had, that maybe I had screwed up and she was having second thoughts. I know I was.

###

When we eventually pulled into the parking garage of my building, I was out of the car and around to her side, yanking the door open before I realized it.

Nikki started up at me, wide-eyed and gaping mouth. It was a familiar look on her lately.

I suddenly couldn't focus. My heart was beating so hard in my chest. My thoughts were a jumble. I had to calm down. Get control of myself. I took a deep breath and stepped back.

She closed her mouth and looked around the garage behind me. But she didn't get out.

"Nikki?"

Her head jerked back to face mine. "What?"

"Do you want to stay in there all night?" It was a struggle to not get exasperated.

She unbuckled and slid out, absently closing the door behind her. "You really live here?"

I scrunched up my eyebrows. "Well, no, not down here. My loft is upstairs."

"Are you rich?"

I looked around this time. Wondered why a private, secured parking garage made her think that. My building wasn't the only like this in the city.

Then I considered she was taking in all of the high-end vehicles. Analyzing that the people who could afford those cars lived here. Therefore, since I lived here...

There was no way of telling her the truth: my secret-agent employer paid for it. Not that I couldn't afford a nice place. But these lofts? My annual salary could maybe rent my apartment for six months tops.

I hoped she didn't think I was trying to brag or rub my living situation in her face by bringing her here. It hadn't occurred to me that I was taking her from simplicity to opulence. My intention was purely to get her from danger to safety. I suddenly wondered what she would think or say when I told her that we were going on a trip...probably somewhere expensive. Maybe exotic.

All I ended up saying was, "No, but I have a good job." It was true.

"Oh."

Did I catch a sense of disappointment in her voice? I watched her for a moment. She was still looking around. Her legs appeared to be shaking as she stood beside the car. Was she imagining herself living in a place like this? Owning a car like these? Or was she thinking about what had transpired in the car...like I was?

She jumped at the loud honk when I locked the doors with the keyfob.

I popped the trunk and headed down the lane toward the other side of the garage, all of her worldly possessions in my two hands.

There were rapid footsteps behind me. I felt her hand at my arm, but she must have changed her mind because she didn't hold on. Which was probably a good thing. I would have given into the temptation to push her up against a brick pylon and kissed her senseless, not giving a damn about who saw us on the security cameras.

She took the bag from me at the elevator bay. Maybe she needed to feel useful. Or keep her mind—her arms—occupied on something else.

Whatever her reason, it left me with a free hand. I shifted the box to the arm closest to her as we rode upstairs, trying to breath evenly without much success. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her move. I turned my head by instinct.

She had leaned against the wall, eyes closed. The bag sat at her feet. The plastic straps loosely held in her hands. She looked...exhausted.

In that moment, I knew I couldn't continue what I'd started in the car. Even with her consent. Not tonight. The only thing I would do was make her feel safe. Comfortable. And then I needed to call Davenport.

At my door, I had to shift the weight again to retrieve my keys from my other pocket. My hand shook as I unlocked the deadbolt. As I turned the knob and stepped inside.

Focus, man. Focus.

I deposited the box on the kitchen island and turned to take the bag from her, only to find she'd stopped in the doorway.

"Nikki?"

She just stared at the floor.

I quietly approached and pressed my hand to her cheek. What had happened to the girl in the car who had declared her infatuation with me? Who didn't want me to stop kissing her? Did she think because she'd given me her blessing that I was going to tackle her once she stepped across my threshold?

Honestly, I thought her eagerness to make out was premature. She had to still be in shock from her trauma. I should have been stronger...not given into the compulsion despite her revelation.

When she didn't look at me, I whispered, "Hey, are you okay?"

She still didn't respond.

"I don't bite. I promise." That got me a partial frown. "Um, okay, I will if you want me to."

The corner of her mouth twitched. But her look otherwise remained neutral.

"Come in." I held my hand out to her, and she took it, following me as I backed into the loft. But she stopped as soon as I released her. It was as if a switch had been flipped once we'd arrived at my door, turning her into someone else.

She had done this at her house. I had chalked it up to nerves. Being forced to revisit the scene of the crime. Multiple crimes, if I had to guess. But now?

I watched her for a moment longer, my trained instincts kicking in. An experiment would tell me if I was right. "Do you want to take off my jacket?"

She just stood still.

"Are you cold?"

Nothing.

"Do you want to leave?"

Again, no movement. No sound.

"Nikki, drop the bag."

And just like that, she let go of the handles, letting the bag of clothes fall to the floor with a loud smack. Then all was silent again.

"Take off my jacket. Hand it to me." She shrugged the leather sleeves from her shoulders. Held it out to me. Stood stoic again, her head slightly downcast, once I took it from her.

My worst fears were being proven right before my eyes. She had been trained, just like I had been six years ago. But as a submissive. By Hunter. And though she'd been more relaxed at the club and the diner—in my car—walking into a residence seemed to trigger whatever rules he'd set in place in her mind. At least when she was alone with a male.

During the eighteen weeks I had been undercover, I had been in many new situations. Seen things I'd never imagined. Not to this degree, though. I'd been told rumors of partners who were so dominating that their sub morphed into robot-mode with a certain word or gesture. I'd not believed it. Yet, here we were.

I didn't necessarily want to go down that road again. I won't deny I had enjoyed parts of it. Having the authority to tell someone else to do something and they obeyed without question? Or they got a thrill from punishment if they didn't follow directions? It was mindboggling...and a hell of a rush.

But BDSM wasn't my life. It wasn't who I really was. It had been a job, nothing more.

I hadn't asked to take on the role that I had. Just as I imagined Nikki didn't want to be in the position she was in. At least not to the extent that Hunter had taken it. I would gladly revisit the lifestyle, though, if it would help her. Because I knew one couldn't just walk away cold turkey. Not without serious repercussions.

My fear was if I took on retraining her—and she accepted—would it end up in a catastrophe for either or both of us?

Something someone had told me while I had been training crept into the forefront of my brain. I didn't know if it would work, but I was willing to try anything. If only for the sake of both of our sanities. Because I couldn't imagine either of us would last long with me giving her constant commands in order to make her basically exist around me when we weren't outside a residence of some sort.

"Nikki?" I tipped her chin up. "In this house, there are no rules."

Her mouth opened, I'm assuming to provide acknowledgement of my directive.

I pressed a finger to her lips. "I want you to relax. To feel comfortable here. You can do whatever you like, whenever you like. You do not need to wait for permission. You can speak or not speak. It is completely up to you. But most importantly, you need to understand that I am not Hunter. Anything he has directed you to do or not do no longer matters. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Before I'd finished speaking, the tears were rolling down her face. Her eyes slowly closed as her shoulders sagged. I could practically see the energy draining out of her. Relief that a long-kept secret had finally been found out?

As explained to me, while a submissive relinquishes control to her Dominant partner, she still—to some extent—has to focus on not reverting to her own will. Over time with practice, it becomes easier to yield to him without thinking. He leads, she follows. But she still makes a conscious effort to obey him.

Yet in extreme cases where a desired response has been repeatedly ingrained in the sub—usually with threat of not just punishment but violence for disobedience, or merely withholding something the sub does want in the relationship—she feels she no longer has a will. She automatically reacts the same way when in a similar environment, whether out of fear or a stronger desire for that carrot being dangled before her. Even if the other person beside her isn't her Dom.

That had to be utterly exhausting if the sub knows what she's doing and doesn't know how to stop it. Which appeared to be Nikki's case. For so long, she had been trapped in her own mind and body by Hunter's instructions with no way out. But now, someone was handing her the key.

I closed the distance between us, gingerly wrapping my arms around her back and head. Holding her to me. "Shh. I know. I know, honey. It's going to be okay."

Nikki's fingers clutched at my arms. Her sobs intensified. When her legs gave out, I picked her up and carried her to the couch.

I held her in my lap, rocking her. Trying to soothe her. After a long while, she stopped shaking. Crying. Moving entirely. I thought maybe she'd fallen asleep. But she looked up at me as I brushed her hair back from her damp cheek.

We both stilled then. My heart beat faster when her hand slid behind my neck. Her lips moved ever so slightly. Her head lifting toward mine.

I pulled back. "No. It's too soon. I shouldn't have—"

"You said whatever I want." That lower lip rolled out this time, making her even harder to resist.

A groan escaped despite my best effort to suppress it. "You're right. I did. But you've been through a lot today. You're in shock. You should get some rest."

"I don't think I can sleep."

"You need to try. Um, how about a shower or a bath to relax? I have one of those spa tubs."

Her eyes lit up at that, and she nodded with a slight smile. Then she worried her lower lip again. By now, it was puffy and so, so tempting.

My cock strained in my pants. I scooted out from under her before she could feel it. I heard her footfalls behind me as I headed to the bedroom. Felt her eyes on my back as I got a towel and washcloth from the closet.

It took every ounce of strength in me not to turn to her and take her in my arms again.

###

I pressed my forehead against the bathroom doorframe, listening to the running water. Imagining Nikki stripping. Stepping into the tub and sinking below the jets. Her breasts bobbing just above the surface.

My chest hurt as I turned back to my room. Had I made a mistake bringing her here? Was it too much temptation for the both of us now that we knew how the other felt?

She was still in the bathroom when I'd finished putting clean sheets on the bed. And making up the couch as a bed for myself. Every little effort to lower the temptation helped.

I gathered the stripped sheets and my day-old clothes I'd shed this afternoon. They joined the pile from my suitcase by the washer. Groceries. Laundry. The to-do list was growing longer. But I could check something off the list.

Phone in hand, I stepped out onto the balcony, closing the glass door behind me. There were still a few clouds, but more stars dotted the black blanket above the skyline. My hand shook as I pulled up Director Davenport's private line. It was for emergencies only. I'd only used it once before. Six years ago.

The director skipped any pleasantries when he picked up, his voice a deep rumble, not hiding his annoyance. "Ben, I told you we would call you—"

"Forget that. Just listen to me. Please. It's important."

"Fine, you have two minutes."

"I only need one. Nikki Talmadge came to me for help tonight. Said Michaels raped her this afternoon. She's at my place for now."

There was a long pause from the other end. "My God, Ben. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well..." I wanted to tell him 'I told you so,' but I still needed his help. "I have some intel for you. And I need Julie to get me two tickets somewhere out of the country, the sooner the better. Preferably someplace remote with an indefinite stay."

We spent quite a long time exchanging information, discussing a plan. When he put me on hold, I paced the length of the balcony. Running my hand over my face and through my hair. Relishing the slight breeze that chilled my skin. My whole body was on fire. Maybe I was coming down with something.

Davenport's voice came back on the line. "Julie is finalizing your tickets. You can pick them up at the airport at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow."

"What about Nikki's passport?"

"You've both got clearance. Show your ID at the ticket counter. Just don't let her know about—"

"What mission?"

The director let out a soft chuckle. "You've been doing this long enough to not screw up. It's in your blood."

"How right you are. Though, some days, I can't help but wonder if it's been too long."

"I'll have none of that from you. You're in your prime." He was quiet for a moment, as if he was thinking the same thing that was going through my head. Retirement. Neither of us said the word aloud. When he spoke again, his voice was back to being serious. "Good luck, Ben. Patrick will pick up those keys tomorrow if you leave them in the lobby. We'll get in touch with you when it's safe to return. I know it doesn't mean much now, but I'm sorry about your friend. I'm glad she had someone like you to turn to."

"Thank you, Sir. Me, too." I ended the call and pocketed my phone. Took deep breaths as I leaned on the railing. And tried without success to clear my head.

When I finally gave up and went inside, I staggered back against the wall of windows. Nikki was curled up on the couch, the blanket intended for me pulled up to her chin. Her hair looked silky as it lay across the pillow. I wondered if she'd washed and dried it or just combed it out.

I moved closer and stood over her, noticing how relaxed she looked. I really didn't want to disturb her. But she would be much more comfortable on my bed. Plus, I could close the door. Though it wouldn't stop the temptation regardless of where I slept, it may make her feel safer if she woke during the night and was enclosed in the smaller room.

Before I moved her, though, I set to packing our suitcases. A real one for her. My own items were not hard to pick out. And hers weren't either with her limited selection. Everything would go. However, I thought it appropriate to fold her clothes first. Which was a little difficult as I couldn't stop thinking about her wearing each piece. Especially the lingerie.

I left out something for her to travel in—we definitely would have to go shopping for a bigger wardrobe once we reached our destination—and set both suitcases by the bedroom door. We would only need to freshen up in the morning, pack our toiletries, then we'd get a cab to the airport. Hopefully, that would allow us time to sleep a little later. Or her, at least. I doubted I would get any rest at all tonight.

Nikki was lighter than I expected when I finally gathered her in my arms—blanket and all—and carried her to the other side of the loft. She moaned softly in her sleep and rolled into my body, which made it more difficult to lay her down on my mattress.

Eventually, I let her go. But I sat beside her for a bit. Found myself brushing her hair off her forehead. She looked at peace. Which she desperately needed right now.

After several more minutes, I got up to go lay down in the other room. The bed creaked as I reached the door. The lamp on the nightstand snapped on.

"Ben?"

Deep breath in. Out. I turned and smiled.