Free Beck & Call by Emma Holly Page B

betrayed the cracks it did last night.
    Last night, something magical had happened. Despite the dom’s clear experience, the girl he’d been whipping nearly unraveled him. He’d been so hard the back rows could have counted up his inches.
    Damien sincerely hoped Mr. R hadn’t fucked the girl when he took her home.
    He shifted in his chair, now uncomfortably hard himself. He wanted to see it; wanted to watch every millimeter of that raging organ slide into her. The girl was incredibly responsive. Damien knew she’d enjoy it.
    He remembered the silken feel of her palm as he gave her his business card. Her big brown eyes had seemed so startled when they snapped up to his. She was an innocent with just enough spirit to make things interesting. He sensed she’d been tempted to accept his offer. Mr. R was possessive—as indeed he ought to be. The girl was a treasure, and Mr. R wouldn’t give up control of her for a job. Damien’s best hope was that the dom would realize she wanted to explore the exotic world he’d introduced her to with Damien’s hand joining his on the steering wheel.
    Unless Mr. R were an idiot—which he didn’t seem to be—he’d do a quite a lot to keep his young friend happy.
    Suddenly, Damien had to know her name. He grabbed his phone, doubly glad now that he’d sent Ms. DeWinter home. Though it wasn’t generally known, Damien owned Audition. Not Diogenes, which annoyed him; the sister clubs really should have been guided by the same person. This morning, thankfully, owning one club was better than none at all.
    He had to wait a few rings. The individual who picked up was sleepy but alert enough to recognize his voice.
    “Sir,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
    “I need our background check on the guest known as Mr. R. Please forward the encrypted file to my secure email.”
    Damien heard computer keys clicking. “Anything else?”
    No file would yet exist on the girl. She’d only attended once that he knew. “That’s all,” he said. “Sorry to wake you.”
    The girl was Mr. R’s work colleague. Damien knew how to do a search. Finding her name—and most everything else about her—would be a piece of cake.
    ~
    The buzzing of a wasp pulled Mia from the depths of a pleasant dream. In it, Captain America had escorted her to her high school prom where, despite her hopeless unpopularity, she’d been voted in as queen. Classmates watched with envy as she and her handsome tuxedoed date gyrated on the dance floor.
    The band’s sexy lead guitarist looked a hell of a lot like Jake.
    You can hold your own , he was singing raspily.
    “Mmph,” she said, reluctantly pushing up from her tangled sheets. The buzzing noise that had woken her grew louder, as if someone nearby were using a weed whacker. She twisted toward her bedside window and nearly choked on a gasp of shock.
    A helicopter style drone was hovering outside her third floor ledge. It was shiny black, about the size of a fire escape barbecue, and had four bright blue insect legs. The silver WorldWide logo stood out on its dark surface. Beneath its belly, a parcel hung.
    Mia tried to get her brain to make sense of what she was seeing. Was it even legal for a drone to be flying here?
    As if the thing could tell she was looking at it, a small red light flashed three times at her.
    Okay, maybe that’s how it asked if it could come in. Glad she didn’t sleep in the nude and not sure what else to do, Mia hauled the window open and backed up to make room for it. The drone bobbled slightly but buzzed through the opening without hitting anything. More sensors blinked as it dropped its package gently onto her mattress.
    Then it zipped out the same way it had come in. Mia watched it disappear above the roofs with her jaw hanging.
    The box sitting on her bed assured her she hadn’t been dreaming.
    FOR MIA BECK , its plain paper wrapping said. PLEASE OPEN IMMEDIATELY.
    In spite of her jangled pulse, she laughed. It must be a present from