Page 14 of Their Ruthless Sadist

“No, I didn’t. She did. I merely engaged the lock. She was the one who shut the door.”

Brax rolled his eyes, then pivoted toward the elevator.

“You think Zeke’s here?” I didn’t want to voice the question, but I had to get it out there. That damn Sadist was all I could think about these days.

“Not if we’re lucky,” Brax said, his voice pitched low.

I knew Brax was looking forward to seeing Zeke every bit as much as I was. Perhaps more. Okay, maybe not more. Ever since that damn scene at Dichotomy, when Zeke had whipped me right into subspace, my dick had been perpetually hard. No matter how often I came—by my own hand or Brax’s phenomenal ass or mouth—it didn’t seem to help. I wanted what Zeke Lautner could give me. Us.

Since the day I met Brax, I had never questioned what I found so appealing about another submissive. He was one of the greatest men I’d ever met. Wicked smart, eerily attentive, ridiculously attractive, and damn good in the sack. Those were all qualities that appealed to me. However, he was a masochist like me. He wanted someone to give him pain, not to offer it.

Insert Zeke Lautner. Big, brooding, and brutal. All the things I longed for in a Sadist. Brax and I agreed that Zeke was the only man who could give us what we needed. While I was content with the status of my relationship with Brax—I loved the man, for fuck’s sake—we both knew we needed more than what we could give each other.

See, we were both masochists, and while we longed for pain and humiliation, neither of us was equipped to dish it out. We took care of each other and we sated those basic biological functions, but there was still that underlying need, the ache to be manhandled, beaten, fucked within an inch of our lives.

Therefore, we went to Dichotomy as often as possible. It was our attempt to find a Dom with a heavy hand, one who might strip us of our control by beating us down in an effort to build us back up.

I’d been to plenty of clubs in my day, including those that were glammed up on the outside but filled to capacity with men and women who were mere caricatures of the roles they attempted to play. Fortunately, I’d found Dichotomy in Dallas and had since managed to at least find one or two Doms who could give me a little of what I so desperately needed. However, no one had ever delivered it the way Zeke had.

Believe it or not, the truly sadistic Doms weren’t easy to find. While safe, sane, and consensual was the unspoken rule in the kink world, in my experience, most Doms were so caught up in it they couldn’t be effective. Always asking if I was okay, wanting to know my color, fearful they were going to make one wrong move and cause more pain than I could handle when, in reality, they rarely even registered on the low end of my pain threshold.

And that was the main reason I’d developed some sort of strange fascination with Zeke Lautner. I’d never met a man like him before. He didn’t ask questions like, “Color, sub?” or “Do you want it harder?” or “Are you ready to come?”

Nope. Zeke didn’t ask questions because he didn’t give a shit what my color was or if I needed to be hit harder or even if I wanted to come. Whenever I was in his presence, there was no question as to who was in charge. And I wasn’t sure how, but he seemed to know what I needed. I’d experienced his personal brand of Sadism only once, but it was an experience I would never forget.

“Tell me you’re really not hoping he’s here,” I taunted Brax when the elevator doors closed, sealing us into the small box. I fucking hated confined spaces. I imagined the higher we went, the thinner the air got, my chest squeezing for fear I wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“I’m really not.”

“Liar.”

A smile pulled at Brax’s mouth. I knew it. He was lying.

When the elevator stopped on the thirty-third floor, I waited for Brax to exit before I stumbled out, hoping no one noticed my misstep.

“Well, well, well,” Dale Cooper said as he pushed to his feet. “Look what the cat dragged in.” He moved around the reception desk and grinned. “Glad you made it all right. Long drive?”

“That’s an understatement,” Brax said, shaking Dale’s hand. He nodded toward me. “Not that he’d know. He slept the entire trip.”

I shook Dale’s hand. “Only because his singin’ makes me wanna stab out my own eardrums.”

“Fuck off,” Brax said on a laugh, that sexy grin of his heating my blood. The man had a way of derailing me from all good intentions.

Brax turned back to Dale. “We’re here to get the apartment key. Ben said he’d have it.”

“Ben took Addison to lunch.”

Well, fuck. I’d been looking forward to a shower.

Dale smirked. “However, I heard a rumor that Zeke has your keys.”

My back straightened, and my cock made certain my brain was aware he was there.

“Hold up a sec.” Dale marched back around his desk and grabbed the telephone receiver. He punched a couple of buttons. “Mr. Lautner, I’ve got Brax and Case here. They stopped by to get the keys to their apartment.”

While I couldn’t make out what was being said, I did hear the distinct rumble of Zeke’s rough baritone. I noticed the way Dale’s eyes flared slightly before he quickly masked it.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll let them know.”