Page 21 of A Dead Man’s Pulse (Trident Security Omega Team #1)

Logan stood and paced again, mulling over what they’d said.

He had to be crazy to be considering it, but then again, he was crazy if he didn’t do everything he could to save his job.

He knew Ian had said that as long as he followed the rules that had been set forth when he was first hired, his job was safe, but if he ever thought he’d be a liability to either team, he’d hand in his resignation.

There was no way he could live with someone being hurt or killed because he’d flipped out during a mission like he did in the club.

“So, who do you suggest I do this with? You, Jake?”

The other man shook his head. “I’m the last person who should be whipping you for several reasons—the main one being we’ll be working together.

You’re already going to be worried about everything that goes with this—you don’t need to add our professional relationship on top of it.

I also don’t think it’s a good idea for you to scene with any male Whip Master—if anything is going to trigger a flashback to Afghanistan, it’s that.

It was men—bastards that they were—who were doling out the torture.

No. I think it’s best if we set up something with Roxy and Charlotte.

They’re both top-notch Dommes, and Roxy has the added experience of being a physician.

” In addition to meeting Roxy back at the club a little while ago, Logan had met her and her wife, Kayla, at the barbecue to celebrate the fact Ian and Angie were expecting.

Charlotte, aka Mistress China, he’d also met two or three times before at the compound.

The petite Asian-American was a force to be reckoned with if her Domme feathers were ruffled, but otherwise she was very nice.

If he remembered correctly, she was a parole officer.

Inhaling deeply, Logan let it out slowly. “I don’t know. I understand what you’re saying, but I have to admit, it freaks me out. Let me think about it tonight, and I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Trudy picked up her day planner and looked at her schedule. “I have a ten o’clock opening tomorrow. Do you want to come in then and we’ll talk about it some more?”

“Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair, which was in desperate need of a trim. “That’s fine.”

After jotting down something on a piece of paper, she stood and handed it to him. “These are three excellent sites for you to explore. The first two have pages dedicated to desensitization.”

Logan read the names of the websites. BDSM 101 . Fet Lifestyle. Beginner BDSM. Between this and his new assignment, he suddenly had the feeling he’d tumbled down the rabbit hole. The only problem was he wasn’t sure how to get out of it.

Taking a deep breath, Dakota shut the locker where she’d stored her things in the ladies’ lounge of The Covenant.

It’d been a long time since she’d been nervous about walking out onto a play floor—in fact, she hadn’t been nervous at all with Davis.

But then again, she hadn’t been attracted to the man.

Logan Reese, however, was someone altogether different.

The longer she’d sat next to her new partner in Sawyer’s office that afternoon, the more she’d become aware of him.

She’d felt his gaze every time it landed on her, and it had taken everything in her not to glance over to see if it was as hot as it had seemed.

She’d even replayed in her mind how he’d skillfully disarmed those punks earlier, despite the fact she’d been annoyed at his alpha interference at the time.

His body was honed to perfection and the way his muscles had moved with such fluidity hadn’t been hard to miss.

Dakota had intended to get out of Sawyer’s office as quickly as possible, to get her hormones back under control, but Reese had grabbed her elbow, and she’d almost sank to her knees as jolts of electricity at his touch scorched her skin.

To top it all off, he’d then sweetly reintroduced himself, in a deep, sexy timber she’d felt between her legs.

She’d seen the relief—and something else she couldn’t name—in his eyes when she’d followed his lead, starting their brief relationship over.

How the hell was she going to survive the rest of this detail without falling victim to his looks, charm, and natural Alpha tendencies?

Stepping over to a full-length mirror, she studied her reflection.

Finding submissive fet-wear that also let her carry a weapon or two had been challenging.

The snug, leather pencil skirt she was wearing completely hid the small caliber pistol strapped to her inner thigh, while a thin, stiletto blade was concealed inside her black and red corset, between her breasts.

Her feet were bare, but with her training, she could still use them to do some damage with or without shoes.

At the top of the steps leading into the lounge from the second floor, the door opened, and footsteps resounded in the stairwell.

Moments later, an attractive, curvy woman, with skin the color of mocha, strode in and nearly jumped five feet when she saw Dakota.

Throwing her hand to her ample chest, she flashed a relieved smile.

“Oh, my God! You scared the bejeezus out of me. I didn’t expect anyone to be in here. ”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Dakota Smith,” she said, giving the last name she’d been instructed to use for this assignment.

While it was almost cliché, it was close enough to her real name to avoid confusion.

“We have a class starting in a few minutes in the pit.” Since she had no idea who the woman was, she wasn’t going to announce the class was to train the new cops and agents going undercover in the clubs.

“Oh, Master Mitch didn’t say anything about that yesterday.

” She held out her hand for Dakota to shake.

“Hi, I’m Sasha Lewis. I’m a sub and work in the club’s boutique.

We just got in a new shipment of inventory on Saturday, and since we’re closed today, I have to go through everything and get it all up on the display racks and shelves.

I can’t wait to see some of the new fet-wear that came in.

By the way, I love that corset . . . it looks fantastic on you. ”

“Thanks.” Sasha had a bubbly personality that was infectious, and Dakota liked her immediately, even though it was a little weird to be dressed in fet-wear while the other woman was in a comfortable pair of jeans and T-shirt.

“It’s nice to meet you. I don’t mean to sound rude, but I have to get out to my Dom.

Don’t want to earn a punishment before the class even starts. ”

“Go. Run.” The sub waved her hand toward the door leading out to the pit. “It was nice meeting you too. If you want a peek at the new inventory, knock on the boutique door before you leave. Have fun.”

Pulling the door open, Dakota rushed out and ran right into a brick wall that let out a muffled “ oomph .” Hands grasped her shoulders and steadied her when she would have ended up on her ass.

Her gaze had been downcast and roamed upward, taking in a pair of snug, black jeans covering an impressive bulge, a black, leather belt, and a black T-shirt that hugged its owner in all the right places.

Before her eyes made it to the man’s face, she’d known who it was, and she cursed her body’s reaction to her new partner once again.

“Hey, are you okay?” Logan’s concerned voice sent a shiver through her spine. “I came to get you because Marco’s just about to get started.”

His hands still cupped her shoulders as her gaze met his, and she didn’t miss the heat flaring in his eyes. Goose bumps popped up all over her skin, and she took a step back, out of his reach. “Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks. Just talking to one of the club’s submissives in the locker room.”

Sticking his hands in his back pockets, he eyed her down to her toes and back up again. “You look nice. Really nice.”

“Um. Thanks.” Feeling herself grow wet at his appraisal, she stepped around him and walked toward where the other UC teams were gathered in the middle of the pit.

Glancing to her left, she saw him fall into step next to her.

“You . . . um . . . didn’t get your leathers?

” Not that he didn’t look extremely sexy in his current attire.

“No. I . . . uh . . . didn’t have time. Something came up that I had to take care of first. I’m going to head to the shop tomorrow, if you want to come with me. You know, make sure I pick out the right stuff. Aside from camos and jeans, I’m not a fashionista.”

Dakota chuckled and relaxed a little. “I think you’re the first guy I’ve ever heard use that word.”

“What can I say? My younger sister is a full-fledged fashionista. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know what the hell one was.”

“All right, let’s get started. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.

” Marco DeAngelis was standing on the center stage of the pit in front of a large St. Andrew’s cross.

With his dark hair and good looks, Dakota was starting to think “being a hunk” was a requirement to be hired by the private security company.

Kneeling on a large, red pillow next to him was a gorgeous blonde, dressed in a pink satin camisole and shorts.

In perfect present position, her head was downcast while her hands rested palms up on her thighs with her knees shoulder width apart.

Dakota had met the retired SEAL at several task force meetings and knew he was married, so that had to be his wife.

His next words confirmed it as he stroked the blonde’s hair, the expression of pure love on his face hard to miss.

“My beautiful wife, Harper, has volunteered . . . sort of . . . to help me demonstrate a few things this afternoon, while our daughter is visiting her Aunt Jenn for a few hours. For those of you whom I haven’t met, yet, I’m Marco DeAngelis.

I’m a retired Navy SEAL and have been in the lifestyle for about fifteen or sixteen years now.

I’d like to go around the room and have you quickly introduce yourselves, so I can put names to faces, please.

Tell me if you’re a newbie or how long you’ve been practicing. ”

While the self-introductions went around the room, no one mentioned they worked in law enforcement. While everyone in the pit knew their true purpose there, and the club was technically closed, there were a few employees doing things upstairs, including Sasha.

A few moments later, the Doms were sitting in chairs facing the stage, while their submissives were on pillows at their feet as DeAngelis began telling the inexperienced people there the basics of the lifestyle, stressing that everything was safe, sane, and consensual.

Since this was all stuff Dakota had known for years, she took the opportunity to study Logan.

While he was listening to the lecture, every so often his gaze drifted to the corner of the stage where a portable rack, holding various toys and instruments used in BDSM, had been set up.

Each time he did, his face paled a little—she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been watching him so closely—and he seemed distracted, which wasn’t a good thing for a Dom to be on a play floor.

Something was bothering him, and Dakota wished she knew what it was, but as long as it didn’t interfere with the two of them being undercover together, then that was all that mattered.

If she learned anything too personal about him, she was afraid her attraction to him would grow even more.

The two hours went by faster than she realized.

As expected, aside from proper presentation, an intro to the different types of play that were and weren’t allowed in most of the clubs, and all the other basics, there had been no full-scene demonstrations—those would start tomorrow DeAngelis told them.

Before releasing them for the rest of the day, apparently a Shibari class was scheduled in the club that evening, he instructed each couple to talk about what they’d learned tonight and to check out three BDSM websites, then let him know if there were any questions before they started the class back up at 8:00 a.m.

When the class broke up, Logan stood and held out his hand to her. Hoping she wouldn’t have the same reaction she’d had earlier to his touch, Dakota placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her up. And, damn it , the tingling started all over again.

Once she was on her feet again, she snatched her hand back. If he’d noticed anything was wrong, Logan didn’t show it. “So, how does grabbing some dinner sound . . . you know, to get comfortable with each other? I have some questions that I’d rather ask you than Polo.”

Polo? Huh? Oh, that’s right . . . DeAngelis’ Navy nickname .

“Um . . .” Dakota took a deep breath and glanced around.

It looked like the rest of the faux couples were talking about doing the same thing Logan had just suggested.

Well, if you and he are going to be believable undercover, then you better start getting used to him.

“Sure. Let me get changed, and I’ll meet you upstairs.

” She almost burst out laughing when he raised an eyebrow at her.

Damn, the man picked things up quickly. “I mean, is it all right with you, Sir , if I go get changed and meet you upstairs?”

He chuckled. “That’s fine, little subbie.”

Turning away, Dakota started for the ladies’ lounge along with the other women.

The whole way there, she felt Logan’s eyes on her and resisted the urge to glance back at him.

She hoped like hell they caught the Kink Killer soon because, if not, she didn’t doubt she was going to wind up in her partner’s bed for the first time in her career.