He asked her to stay the night, and she agreed. He worshipped her body all night long, fucking her on her back, on her side, in the shower. He gave her orgasm after orgasm with his hands and his mouth, his cock and the toys he kept under the bed. He obeyed her every order, indulged her every whim and took pride in how readily her body responded to him.

After they’d worn each other out with kink and sex, Felicia massaged warm oil into every inch of his body. He hadn’t felt this sated in years. Not since Søren.

“You’re a masterful sadist.” Kingsley sighed contentedly.

“Merci beaucoup,” she said, putting on a feigned French accent. Kingsley laughed.

“Did you come out of retirement just to fuck me?”

“To fuck you...and fuck with him by coming out of retirement to work at your club.”

“Him? Oh, him.” Kingsley knew immediately who “him” was—the billionaire whose divorce had landed Mistress Felicia in jail for two months. “Is he the jealous type?”

“Very much so. And he hates the idea of me with anyone else, even if I won’t see him anymore. But you know what they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” She lightly traced the welts she’d left on his chest. “As you can see.”

“The female of the species is always deadlier than the male.”

“Always?” Felicia asked.

Kingsley sat up in bed, a realization hitting him like Felicia’s crop on his back.

“Always,” he repeated. He turned around and kissed her. “I have to go. With your permission, Maîtresse.”

“Tell me where you’re going, and I’ll consider it.”

“Someone’s been threatening me and I know who it is.”

“Are you going to destroy him?”

“Her,” Kingsley said.

Mistress Felicia grinned.

“You’ll come to my house tonight?”

“I’ll come to your house, in your house and on your house if you order me to.”

“Permission granted.”

Kingsley scrambled out of bed and threw his clothes on.

Five minutes later he was walking out his front door.

And twenty minutes after that, he stood at another front door.

He knocked and waited.

Phoebe Dixon opened the door. When she saw him, she tried to slam it in his face. Kingsley stopped the door with his hand.

Kingsley smiled at her, and she took a fearful step back.

“We need to talk.”

24

“I HAVE NOTHING to say to you.” Phoebe glared at him as he pushed into the house and shut the door behind her. “I’ll call the police if I have to.”

“And tell them what exactly?”

“That you broke into my house.”

“Call them. I’ll tell where you hide all your drugs from your husband.”

“You bastard, what do you want?”

“I want to know why you’re threatening me with that tape.”

“What tape? What are you talking about?” she asked, a crack in her voice betraying her guilt.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know it’s you. I don’t need a confession. I only want to know why.”

“I have to tell you why? You don’t know?”

“I wish I could say I did. The last time I saw you I gave you exactly what you wanted.”

“And then you dumped me without a word,” she said. “Not one fucking word.”

“So this is how you punish me? By threatening me and my friends?”

“I didn’t send the tapes. I just... I gave one to someone.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Kingsley sighed heavily.

“Phoebe, I’m a very busy man. We can play the back-and-forth game all day, or we can skip the part where you play dumb and get back to the part where you tell me the truth, so we can both move on with our lives.”

Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest.

“Two can play this game,” he reminded her. “Do I have to send that tape to the reporter I know? The tape of your husband accepting a bribe?”

She lifted her chin but remained silent.

“I can also tell my friend on the police force who you buy your drugs from, and then you’ll have to find a new supplier.”

“I don’t know his name,” she finally said. “He came to see Robert and asked about you. I overheard them talking. Robert kicked him out, but he left his phone number.”

“And you called him?”

“You had your fucking secretary call me to blow me off. Your secretary. You couldn’t pick up the fucking phone and call me yourself?”

“This is your payback because I didn’t call you? I’d hate to see what you’d do if someone really tried to hurt your poor little feelings.”

“I don’t talk to secretaries.”

“You should. They’re some of the best people I know. Now tell me everything about this man who wanted information on me.”

“I told you, I don’t know his name.”

“Who does he work for?”

“I don’t know that, either. All he said was you were annoying his employer.”

“Who does he work for?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to know something.”

She shook her head and raised her hands to her temples.

“He said... I don’t know. Something about a building. Those were his words, ‘All this bullshit over a fucking building.’”