Page 34 of A Dead Man’s Pulse (Trident Security Omega Team #1)

Chapter Eighteen

Pulling up to the guardhouse at the first gate, she rolled down her window and smiled at the big man who came out to greet her. “Morning, Murray.”

“Good morning, Dakota. You’re up early.”

“Not as early as you, apparently.”

“Don’t let my bright eyes and bushy tail fool you.

I just got here about twenty minutes ago and after only five hours sleep.

Not that I’m complaining, since my girlfriend got home from three weeks visiting family in Ireland yesterday.

” He waggled his eyebrows, and it was clear what the couple had been doing to celebrate.

“Anyway, you here for a meeting or the gym?”

“Gym. I didn’t get much sleep either, so I figured I’d burn off a few calories.”

“Trust me, darling, you don’t need to. And no, I’m not flirting with you—my woman and Cowboy would both kick my ass—just stating a fact. Let me get the gate for you.” He reached inside the shack and hit the button that rolled the iron gate to the left, granting her access.

With a wave at the guard, she drove through and up the quarter mile to the first parking area which was for The Covenant. Instead of pulling up to the inner gate, she slowed when she saw Logan’s SUV with another vehicle parked outside the club.

That’s strange. What’s he doing here so early? There’s no task force meeting.

After a moment’s hesitation, her curiosity got the better of her and she pulled her SUV in next to Logan’s and climbed out. She’d just pop her head in and see if he was free to work out with her—that was all.

Yeah, right. You want to have a reason not to trust him, so you can be the one to break it off first, just like you always do.

Ignoring her inner bitch, she took the stairs to the second-floor entrance two at a time.

Her handprint had been scanned into the compound’s security system, so she had access to the club, gym, and Trident’s main office, instead of having to be buzzed in by someone else.

When the lock clicked, she pulled the door open and stepped into the lobby.

No one was there, but she hadn’t expected to see anyone at this time of the morning.

Striding over to the double wooden doors, she found one slightly ajar and widened the opening so she could step through.

Again, no one was in sight, but Logan’s deep rumbling laughter floated up from the pit. Dakota was about to announce her presence when she heard him moan and say, “God, that feels incredible. Don’t stop.”

A female replied, “Actually, let’s take this into one of the playrooms where there’s a bed, love . . .”

Whatever the woman had said next after “love” was low and muffled, but Dakota had heard enough. Jealous rage coursed through her when Logan said, “Sounds good to me.”

What the fuck?

On silent feet, she quickly made her way to the balcony and looked down.

That son of a bitch!

Logan was taking off his T-shirt, his arm, shoulder, and back muscles rippling fluidly, and following that dark-haired chick, who had shown up at the hospital with Tiny, toward The Covenant’s playrooms. The woman had on skinny, black ankle pants, a fitted black blazer, showing off her curves, and black heels that had to be four inches high.

That two-timing son of a bitch!

Neither of them had said anything about being exclusive, but Dakota had sort of assumed they were.

Well, you know what happens when you assume, you idiot. It makes an ass out of “u” and “me.”

Well, she’d be damned if that happened again.

The couple disappeared down the hall to where they were no doubt going to fuck like rabbits.

No wonder he didn’t want to sleep all night in her bed—he had to rest up for his morning honey.

Well, fuck that. He wasn’t getting back into Dakota’s bed, that was for sure.

Turning on her heel, she stormed out of the club, hopped into her SUV, and didn’t bother acknowledging a confused Murray on her way past the guard shack, speeding toward the highway.

She drove aimlessly, for how long she had no idea, trying hard not to cry—Logan was just like every other bastard out there, and she’d dated plenty of them.

Her vision blurred and she yanked the steering wheel, hitting the brakes.

As the vehicle skidded to a stop on the gravel shoulder, her tears fell.

So why am I crying for him when I’ve never cried over any other man?

“Hey, Cowboy,” Charlotte greeted him as she descended the stairs into the pit.

She was dressed for work, which he hadn’t expected her to be, since she was supposed to whip him again today.

She usually wore something more relaxed then took a shower and changed before heading to her job.

“Roxy can’t make it this morning. She sent me a text—one of her patients was admitted very late last night and she only got a few hours’ sleep.

We’ll work on your technique today and scene tomorrow instead.

I’m not comfortable enough yet without having another Whip Master present.

You’ve done great so far, but it’s still new. Okay?”

“I’m okay with postponing it a day, but I’m not sure about the practice.” Tilting his head to the side, he winced. “Must have pulled a muscle or something because it’s really tight right here.” He’d been massaging the back of his neck for the past few minutes, trying to work out the kinks.

She rounded the back of the chair he was sitting in by the stage and pushed his hand out of the way, then prodded the area. “Yup, you’ve got a nice knot there. Did your sexual aerobics with the pretty cop get out of hand?” she quipped.

Logan laughed, then moaned when she kneaded the sore spot. “God, that feels incredible. Don’t stop.”

“Actually, let’s take this into one of the playrooms where there’s a bed, love.” She patted his shoulder then strode toward one of the hallways where the playrooms were located. “It’ll be better with some massage oil and easier for me to work the muscle if I’m straddling you.”

Having spent a lot of time with the Domme since she’d joined in his therapy, he knew nothing would happen in the bed between them other than her giving him a massage.

They’d become good friends, and while she teased and flirted with him at times, it was all in jest and a way to ease his anxiety about the whip. “Sounds good to me.”

Standing, he followed her, pulling his T-shirt over his head.

He was almost to the hallway when he heard one of the wooden doors upstairs slam against the wall.

Pivoting, he glanced at the stairs, waiting for whoever had walked in to make an appearance.

When no one did, he assumed it was Mitch or one of the other employees—no one else would be there this time of the morning.

“It’ll probably be better if you take a break from practicing the whip today too.

” Charlotte was waiting for him in the doorway of Playroom #3.

Most of the rooms were decorated with different themes, but this one had a basic setup with just a spanking bench, a St. Andrew’s cross, and a round, King-sized bed.

One wall had a variety of implements hanging from hooks while a row of cabinets sat catty-corner to it.

Charlotte strode over to the latter and quickly found a bottle of massage oil before retrieving a towel from a warmer sitting on the countertop.

“All right, Cowboy, lay down and let’s get your vertebrae vertical again. ”

“Do you need to stop anywhere on the way?”

“Nope.”

Logan sighed as the traffic light turned green, and he hit the accelerator. For the third time since he picked Dakota up at the condo, he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.”

Yeah, he wasn’t stupid or na?ve. The woman had a bug up her ass about something, and it was clearly up to him to figure it out because she refused to tell him what was wrong.

Everything had been fine when he’d left her bed around 2:00 a.m.—or at least he thought it had been.

He was racking his brains trying to figure out what he’d done or said to piss her off, but he was coming up blank.

“Look, obviously you’re mad about something.

Tell me, so we’re not walking into Heat with you looking like you want to kill me. ”

“I’m a professional. No one in there will have the slightest idea there’s anything wrong.”

“Except for me. I haven’t a clue what’s wrong.” Silence filled his SUV and he glanced over at her. “Koko—”

“Don’t fucking call me that again.”

What the fuck?

Yanking on the steering wheel, he pulled onto the shoulder of the road and slammed on his brakes with more force than necessary.

Throwing the gearshift into park, he spun on her and intentionally dropped his voice in what he hoped was a convincing Dom tone.

“All right. That’s it. One of the things everyone has been stressing about this lifestyle is communication and honesty. So out with it, subbie.”

She glared at him, her arms crossed over her chest. “Drive, Reese.”

“Wrong answer, sweetheart. Try again before I haul you over here and tan your ass.”

“Try it and you’re a dead man.”

No, he wasn’t. Not anymore. Working at Trident had brought him back to the land of the living, giving him a purpose in life again, but Dakota had given him so much more. “Babe, I’ve been dead—that’s no longer a threat that bothers me.”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion, but before she could question him, he glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw flashing lights. “Fuck. A cop just pulled up. Friend of yours?”

Hopefully, so they wouldn’t have to deal with him for more than a minute. They had to get back on the road to Heat.

Ducking her head, Dakota took a peek in her side mirror and groaned. “Yup.” She rolled down her window as the officer approached her side, his dominant hand resting on his gun.

“Is there a problem—Swift? Hey, what’s up?” He eyed her and then whistled loudly. “Damn, sweetheart, I think you should wear short skirts and low cleavage at work—you’ll have the criminals drooling and frozen in place—easy arrests.”

Beside her, Logan, growled a warning, and she rolled her eyes. “Stop being an ass, Ric. Logan, this is Ric Hernandez, my longtime friend and partner. Ric, this is Logan Reese, my temp partner.”

Yeah, she wasn’t getting away with that “temp partner” shit. Despite her piss-poor attitude this morning, they had something special growing between them, and the last thing he wanted was to be a “temp” anything with her. “Actually, I’m more than that—I’m also her boyfriend.”

He’d almost blurted out that he was her Dom too but didn’t want to out her lifestyle if this idiot didn’t know about it.

It was her turn to growl. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. Case closed until we have this out later.” His stern expression dared her to challenge him again.

He didn’t take his eyes off her as he addressed her pain-in-the-ass friend who had placed his hands on the door frame, leaning on it.

“You need anything, Hernandez, because we’ve got somewhere to be. ”

Grinning as his gaze ping-ponged back and forth between the two, the uniformed cop chuckled.

“About time you’re getting laid on a regular basis, Swift.

Reese, we’ll be having a discussion later to convince me you’re good enough for her, but in the meantime, do me a favor and don’t slam on the brakes like that and make me stop to see if there’s a problem. Swift, I’ll call you later.”

Logan’s opinion of the other man jumped up a few notches. It was clear Hernandez was just looking out for someone he cared about and nothing more.

Dakota’s jaw dropped as she glared at Ric who just laughed, slapped his hand on the door frame, and then headed back to his vehicle.

Putting the SUV in drive, Logan hit the button that dropped his window automatically, then waved as the cop climbed back into his patrol car before pulling back out into traffic.

“I meant what I said, Koko, we’re continuing this discussion later, and if you can’t be open and honest with me, then my hand and your ass are going to get to know each other very, very well. ”