Page 69 of Beautifully Ruined

“It’s around midnight.”

“When a client, especially a powerful one, needs to access their porn, they need to access their porn.”

Her eyes narrow.

But I add a smile to add to the jokiness of my glib response. “They get antsy, and I’d rather they stay inside jerking off then outside killing, right?”

“Cade…”

I don’t want to tell her the truth. It’s not that I don’t trust her, but I don’t want to get her hopes up until I know for sure this intel is solid.

So, I kiss her again and head out.

John D isin a back corner of the dive. It’s a quiet night in Archive…as quiet as it can get, anyway.

I sit down, my drink from the bar in my hand. “What’s the intel?”

He slides over a burner, and I flick through the information in there.

The girl sure looks like the photos of Gianna, thinner, and she’s done up to the nines in one photo, in another dressed like an underaged girl.

In regular circumstances I wouldn’t pay any mind to a girl indulging in Daddy/little girl or good girl play. Plenty do it. Some of the women are older than the Daddies. It’s not about age, but about a different take on sub and Dom, of control.

Like the rape fantasies that Vi harbors. She doesn’t want to be raped. She just likes the fantasy of being controlled, of being dominated, of being forced to come.

But this isn’t mutual in these photos. The girl is a victim. No matter her age, and yeah, the little girl appearance bothers me.

“His name is Thomas Allistair. Owner of The Dungeon.”

My heart skips a beat. “The BDSM club?”

“One and the same.”

I know of it.

They offer girls for anything.

So long as the price is right.

Chapter Twelve

VIOLET

A week later,I’ve come to terms with being caught by Jack.

There have been one too many times I’ve reached for my cell to call only to snatch my hand back.

“What’s wrong?” Cade’s gaze skims me as I fix my shirt, making my heart flutter.

Last night, he chased me through the streets, only to corner me in a bar, where he felt me up where anyone would have seen if they’d paid us the slightest bit of attention.

I came so hard I basically mauled him on the steps up to his floor, and there, three steps from his landing, he made me suck him off.

This morning was slow, languid sex, and I’m still shaking from all of it.

From everything we’ve done when he hasn’t been at work, all the places we’ve fucked and played. And still, at times when it’s quiet or I’m alone, I’ve thought of Jack. The pain and the anger in his eyes.

I just don’t know who the pain was for. Me?