Just One More Week

le plumeThere’s only 1 week left to Smashwords huge Summer/Winter sale. Which means there’s only on more week to grab “Consensual” for free!

Ah, I love the smell of free books in the morning!

Once the sale is over, we’ll start talking about some giveaways, and — Oh yeah. The cover reveal for “Broken Bonds”!

Meanwhile, its WIP Wednesday! And there was some great WIP’ping going on this week.

Enjoy!

—————————–

*WARNING*
This is intended for mature 18+ audiences only!

*This is unedited and subject to change*

Knots
by Katherine Rhodes

He pushed out of the stall and into the lounge just as the door opened to the room to admit someone. For just a moment he was terrified it might be Cece, but when he looked, he let out a breath of relief. It was just Everett Milhouse. He nodded at him, and Everett nodded back, but Killian walked out, way too pissed that Diane had tampered with this phone. He paged through it, trying to see what else she had done and had a horrifying thought.

What if she had put a tracker or a keylogger on it?

Jesus shit, what if she had?

He leaned against the wall. Oh, God. He’d been good with deleting the messages, but who knew how many times Diane had grabbed the phone and looked at it or played with it. If the tracker had been on there for more than a month, she would exactly where…

Shit, shit. He tried to remain as calm as possible, but moved back to the desk as fast as he could. He closed the desk up and packed everything up, and ran back to Cece’s office. He knocked and put a hand on the knob. He was going to shove in, but that was what had started the whole mess. He knocked again and this time he heard call.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and Cece was seated at her desk. She saw him walking in and instantly went bright red. “Killian–”

“I need to go,” he said, quickly. “Can you lock this stuff up for me?”

“Uh, sure,” she said, walking over to the cabinet. She pulled a key out and opened one of the drawers for him. “Killian, I wanted to–”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.” He dropped the binders and files into the drawer. “I have to get going. This is really critical. Will you be here on Friday afternoon?”

“Yes…” she said, quietly.

“Thank you,” he said, and he was out the door before she could say another word. He was out the door of the library less than five minutes later. He had shut the phone off; he couldn’t take the chance that she had a tracker on it. He got in the car and drove across the city, over the Monongahela, past Mt. Washington, and another ten miles out beyond that.

He pulled down a tree lined drive that disappeared into the woods, and came to a large circular drive. He pulled as close to the main house as he could, and parked the car. He marched up to the door and had to push back all the memories of the first time he had walked up to this door. He knocked: two sharp knocks, pause, one sharp, pause, and three short quick knocks.

It was only a moment before the door swung open and Killian was surprised. Darien himself had answered the door.

“Killian,” he said, all business.

“Darien,” he answered. “We may have a problem. May I come in?”

Darien nodded shortly and stepped out of the door. Killian walked in and closed the door behind himself. Darien motioned him to the den.

“You’re not here until next week,” Darien said. “So this must be serious.”

Killian held up the phone. “I think I’ve been compromised. I think the house might be compromised.”

Darien’s eyes flared and at one time, that would have scared the shit out of Killian; now he faced Darien as an equal. “What do you mean.” There was no question. He demanded explanation.

“I’ll go in order of how this happened,” Killian said. “Starting with Diane texting me a picture of her breasts.”

“And you’ve told her not to do that.”

“Repeatedly, of course,” Killian said. “And then I realized that her name in my phone had changed. She had been in the phone to change her label to Diane-pookie.”

“Ah,” he said. “HIPAA.”

“I don’t know how long it’s been there,” Killian said, “as I desperately try to not communicate with her. She must have swiped the phone at some point in the past few weeks to do that. But it could have been as long ago as six months. She may be swiping it whenever we’re in the same room. I never realized she was doing this. If she installed a tracker or a keylogger…”

“We come to the heart of the matter,” Darien said. “You’re afraid she’s gotten your messages here or tracked you here.”

“Yes,” Killian said. “That’s why this is off.”

Darien walked over to the bar, and tapped his finger on the counter for a moment. Killian watched him carefully. He could read the Dom like the back of his hand now. Darien picked up a decanter and two glasses, pulling a set of whiskey stones out of the freezer. He placed three each in a pair of tumblers and poured the Macallan 25-year over the stone until there was just barely an inch in the glasses and handed one to him.

“Leeann,” he called.

A petite woman scurried over, head bowed, hands clasped behind her back. “Yes, Sir?”

“Fetch Pamela, vite vite,” he said.

She said nothing and scurried off. Darien took a sip of his drink and looked at him. “You need to rid yourself of that woman, Killian. She is a demon.”

“She is who my mother wants me to marry,” Killian said.

“And since when the fuck have you ever listened to that rotting whore?” Darien demanded.

Killian wilted. “Never.”

“Listen to me, Doctor Gregorson,” Darien said, swirling the golden liquid in his glass. “You father is dead. Your sister nearly beat you into a coma because you were throwing away your life. You came back here to regain a sense of balance and control. You have that now. Again. And you’re going to let a money grubbing twatwaffle like Diane take that all away from you?”

“Her father is the head of surgery,” he said.

Darien put his glass down and stepped up to his face, putting a hand on either cheek, framing him. “That is pathetic and lame. You are far, far more man than stooping down to the level of those money driven, good for nothing shits. Especially that thing who wants to call you son.”

Darien pulled him in and kissed him hard. Killian gave into it immediately, relishing the different feel of a man’s lips, a man’s tongue against his. He wrapped his hand around Darien’s neck and pulled him in close, tasting him and feasting on his lips.

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