Michaels, Skye - Mikaela's Debut [The Black Dahlia Hotel 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Read online

  Mikaela was looking nervous and upset when she walked into Dunross’s office. “I watched it again while I was waiting on the terrace, but I just don’t remember this at all.”

  “Sit down, Mikaela. I’ll have Sari bring you in a cup of coffee, and we’ll just take another look.” Dane walked to the door and asked for the coffee and then sat down behind his desk. “Mikaela, Dillon thinks it looks like this video was shot some time ago. Take another look at it and see if anything in the background looks familiar.” He turned his laptop around so she could see the bigger image on the screen.

  When she had watched the whole thing from beginning to end again twice, she just shook her head. “I don’t know. It looks like a mess, stuff all over the floor. I’m sure I don’t know that guy. He isn’t an old boyfriend or anything.”

  Jamie spoke up. “I have a friend in New York in pharmaceuticals. His company has a big security division—top notch and cutting edge because of threats from industrial espionage. They might be of some help in tracking down who uploaded the video if you don’t mind me involving him. We also have an excellent security team aboard the Dolphin if they are needed.”

  Dillon looked at Mikaela. She nodded. “Okay, call in the troops. Do whatever you think is best.”

  “I’ll call Morgan Court at Court Industries and talk to him about it.”

  “I’d like to keep this quiet if possible. Mikaela doesn’t need the embarrassment, and I wouldn’t like to give my congressional opponents any rope to hang me with. Baby, why don’t you go back to the suite and rest? I’ll be up shortly.”

  Chapter Two

  In the Cavanaugh suite at The Black Dahlia Hotel, Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida, Wednesday noon, December 23, 2015

  Dillon was concerned. He’d just come back from Dane Dunross’s office and his conference with Jack Brown and Jamie Devereau. He had found Mikaela curled up in a fetal position on the bed. Her face was very expressive, and right now she looked scared and upset. He lay down beside her on the bed. “Baby, I’m going to order lunch from room service in a little while, but why don’t you come over here to your Master for a minute.”

  She rolled over into his arms and put her arms around his neck. “Oh, Dillon. I’m scared. What if this isn’t a hoax and they post another video? The press could pick up on it, and we’d have a horrible mess.”

  “Mikaela, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, Jamie Devereau’s friend in New York will look into who posted the original video on YouTube. I don’t know how they’ll go about it, but this guy owns a pharmaceutical company and has a huge security department.”

  “But the campaign, your family…This could be terrible. I don’t want to cost you the election, baby. Maybe we should cool it, and you should distance yourself from me for a while.”

  “Are you looking for a spanking right now? Don’t talk like that. If push comes to shove, I’ll withdraw from the campaign. A congressional seat would be nice, but I’m mostly running because of the family pressure. You know my dad thinks he’s the next Joe Kennedy. I personally don’t care that much. You are more important to me than any seat in Congress. I have my practice in Greenwich. We won’t starve.”

  “I don’t want to be the cause of a rift in your family, Dillon. I miss my own parents so much. I couldn’t stand it if you were estranged from yours because of me.” He gave her butt a smart smack. He knew that for some reason that always calmed her down.

  “As I said, we’ll see what happens. Now, relax and just let me hold you.” It was so like Mikaela to put him first when he knew she was worried and scared. This was his woman, and no one was going to come between them—not his family, not a blackmailer. She was the most important person in his life.

  They had met at Le Club Eastside–Manhattan three years ago. Both had been between relationships and had agreed to do a scene together. The relationship just took off from there. She was sassy for a sub when she was on her game—certainly no pushover. He had to work for her submission, and he loved it. He didn’t want a doormat as his sub or as his wife. She had really been thrown for a loop when her parents were killed. He guessed that unexpected deaths like that were harder to deal with than if someone was sick for a while and you had time to get used to the idea.

  After she had rested in his arms for a while, he turned her so that he could kiss her forehead, then her lips, and then his mouth coasted down her neck to her breasts. He began to work on the buttons of her white cotton shirt. Before long he had her stripped out of her clothes and naked. He quickly dropped his shirt and shorts on the floor and rejoined her on the bed. “We’re going to forget about all of that for a while. I’m going to love you, baby.”

  “I forget everything when you love me, Dillon.”

  He continued to kiss down the center of her body over her gently rounded belly until his mouth was nestled between her thighs. He flicked her clit with his tongue, and she bucked. He had never known a woman more responsive than Mikaela. He lowered his mouth to her pussy and began to suck and tease her with his tongue. She pushed her pussy into his face, and he plunged his tongue into her center. “Dill, don’t tease me. I need you now.”

  “No topping from the bottom, subbie.” He dipped two fingers into her wet channel and slowly withdrew them, plunging again and again as she strained upward toward his hand. She sighed. “Does that feel good, baby?”

  “You know it does. I want to touch you, Dillon.”

  “You will. Just let me take care of you right now.” Dillon wove a magical spell of arousal around her. He continued to play with Mikaela’s drenched pussy, bringing her close to climax but always changing rhythm at the last moment to prolong the pleasure.

  He grasped her wrists in one of his big hands and held them over her head while he positioned himself for a strong and steady entry. She always loved the illusion of being bound. Her pussy clenched around him as he began to stroke slow and easy. He knew what she wanted, but he intended to enjoy this for as long as he could before he took her hard and fast.

  When he felt that she could take the sensual torture no longer, he drove his cock to the hilt into her waiting pussy and began the fierce rocking motion—smooth and deep—that would bring them both to completion. When Mikaela screamed out her orgasm, Dillon followed her over with a groan of satisfaction. Gathering her in close, he held her while her pounding heart calmed. Mikaela ran her hands over his broad, muscular chest, and sighed with contentment. “Dillon, it’s always so good for us.” She snuggled closer, twining her long legs with his. He hoped she would forget the problem that hovered over them—at least for a while.

  * * * *

  No matter what he said, Mikaela would not allow her problems to ruin his chances in the election. He was too important to her. Leaving him would kill her, but she would do what was best for him. They had been dating before her parents had been killed, and her parents had adored him. She didn’t know if she would have made it through their loss without him. He had been her rock. It was typical of Dillon to say that they wouldn’t starve. He always ignored the fact that she was ridiculously rich, although a good part of her fortune was tied up in trusts. She didn’t need to work, but she enjoyed her job as the chairwoman of a charitable foundation in Greenwich. That was the other thing that had kept her going after the accident. As an only child, she didn’t have any other family—except for her cousin, Maggie. They had drifted apart since their college years, and she hadn’t seen Maggie except at the funeral over a year ago. She didn’t know what it was, but something had come between them. She didn’t understand it, but she just let it go. Mikaela had never shared her interest in the BDSM lifestyle with Maggie, so that couldn’t be it. She had been wrapped up in Dillon for three years now, and he was her life.

  Mikaela cuddled up against Dillon’s chest and closed her eyes. “I love you, baby.”

  “Me, too, Mikki. You’re everything to me. You know that, don’t you, baby?”

  “Yes, I know that.”


  * * * *

  Maggie Sexton looked at the “Sent” folder on her phone. Well, she had done it. This idea had been percolating in her mind since her aunt and uncle died in the plane crash and she’d realized that now all that money was in Mikaela’s hands. She had remembered the video she and Jim had taken that New Year’s Eve and that Mikaela hadn’t remembered a thing the next morning. This was her opportunity, and she wasn’t going to miss it. Then she found out that Dillon Cavanaugh was running for a seat in Congress, and she knew this was the perfect time to launch her scheme. Mikaela was going to share whether she liked it or not.

  * * * *

  In the conference room at The Black Dahlia Hotel, Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida, Wednesday early afternoon, December 23, 2015

  Jamie Devereau didn’t like the looks of this situation. Certainly it was a big problem for his friends, Dillon and Mikaela, but it could also bleed over to the hotel. He picked up his iPhone and dialed Morgan Court’s cell phone. “Court? Devereau here. Can I ask you for a big favor?” Jamie never beat around the bush.

  “Anything, buddy. What’s up?”

  Jamie explained about the mysterious text. “These are good people. Mikaela doesn’t remember the occasion or the guy. He isn’t an old friend or boyfriend. That makes me think date rape drugs.”

  “Yeah. An ugly situation. Let me get my cyber people on it. Forward me the text.”

  “How’s business? And how is Harper?” Morgan Court was a reclusive multimillionaire businessman and member of Le Club Eastside–Manhattan, where he had met the Domme-turned-sub and sexy attorney Harper Cameron.

  “Harper is great. She’s pregnant and a little grouchy, what with the morning sickness and all. Business is good. We have another new diabetes drug about to go into testing. We think it’s going to be even bigger than Maxprotem. How’s Anne? Any little ones on the horizon for you?”

  “You know my views on that. I’m leaving the populating of the planet to my big brother, Justin. He and Kelly will keep the Devereau name viable.”

  “I know what you mean. I wasn’t in a hurry, but Harper thought she had a ticking clock. But once she said, ‘We’re having a baby,’ I lost my mind. It’s the greatest feeling in the world. Anyway, I’ll have my people see what they can find out about that text.”

  “Thanks, Morgan. My best to Harper and the bun in the oven.”

  Chapter Three

  In the dungeon at The Black Dahlia Hotel, Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida, Wednesday evening, December 23, 2015

  The costume party to celebrate the opening of the new Black Dahlia dungeon was in full swing. Guests were dressed in everything from formal wear and club wear to role-playing costumes from the hotel’s costume department. Waiters circulated with constantly refilled trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Jack and Kaylin had decided that instead of bachelor and bachelorette parties they would have a fancy dress party for their collaring ceremony the night before the wedding. It would also serve to celebrate the opening of the new dungeon. The official opening of the hotel was scheduled for after their Christmas Eve wedding.

  Jack leaned down and whispered in Kaylin’s ear. “Hey, baby. You look fantastic.” She was wearing a formfitting, long, red vintage lace dress, and her thick, dark hair was swept up on top of her head.

  “No. That would be you. You know how I get when I see you in a tux and those black alligator cowboy boots. That is definitely taking unfair advantage.” Her bright blue eyes sparkled with laughter and lust. God, he loved this woman.

  “You’ll get your chance to admire your Master after our collaring ceremony when we open the dungeon for scenes.”

  “I can’t wait, baby. I think we should circulate.” He took her arm and steered her toward Dillon and Mikaela.

  “How are you guys doing? I know Jamie called Morgan Court and he’s got his people looking into that text.”

  Dillon smiled down on Mikaela and hugged her tight to his side. “We’re okay. Mikki’s a little spooked, but we’ll get through it.”

  “Jack told me what happened, Mikaela,” Kaylin said. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. If you want to make a formal report or file a complaint while we’re away you can contact Chloe at BSO.”

  “I’m wracking my brain to try to remember when that video could have been taken. I have absolutely no memory of that place or any of it. I think that’s the scariest part—that and the possibility that something I did could be used to damage Dillon’s campaign.”

  “I told you, Mikaela. Do not worry about that. We’ll figure it out—with a little help from our friends, as the song goes. I don’t want you to worry about the campaign.”

  “Well, according to Jamie, Morgan Court’s organization is top notch, and if anyone can get a handle on it, he can.” Jack smiled. “He told Jamie he and Harper are pregnant.”

  Kaylin turned to Jack. “Oh, do you know him? Is he one of your Harvard posse, too?”

  “We’ve met several times through Jamie. No, I think he’s an MIT guy, but I don’t hold that against him.”

  “Very funny. Everyone can’t go to Harvard.”

  “So sad, but so true.” Kaylin punched him in the arm.

  “Just wait, subbie. Your time on the St. Andrew’s cross is coming.” She giggled and he pulled her into his arms for a kiss. “I love it when you giggle.”

  “I don’t giggle. I’m a tough homicide cop.”

  “Right.”

  * * * *

  Mikaela smiled. Jack and Kaylin were just so right together. Happiness dripped off the both of them. She would have said the same for Dillon and herself a day ago. Now, with this blackmail threat hanging over her head, she wasn’t feeling at all optimistic. She enjoyed Dillon’s parents in small doses, and she knew they liked her. But how would his dad feel if she was damaging Dillon’s election chances? Joe Cavanaugh was ambitious in the extreme for his kids. Dillon wasn’t exaggerating when he said Joe saw himself as the next Joe Kennedy. Regardless of what Dillon said, that would put a lot of stress on their relationship.

  “Stop. Now. I don’t like the thoughts that are going through your head.”

  “You can’t possibly know what thoughts are going through my head.”

  “Mikaela, your head might as well be made of glass. I can see every thought on your face. It will be okay. No matter what happens, it will be okay.”

  “Dillon, I can’t help worrying—more for you than myself.”

  “I know, baby. That is one of the many reasons I love you. But I want you to try and relax and let’s enjoy our vacation. We’ll see what the Court people come up with. Jamie said they are going to want to do a phone interview with you tomorrow to get some background information.”

  “I’ll be happy to talk to them. I’ll do anything to move this investigation along. I can’t imagine who could have done this, or why.”

  “Obviously, it’s someone who wants a piece of your fortune and possibly to hurt you. Sometimes extreme wealth is a blessing and sometimes it’s a curse. Just look at my father. If he had to worry about making a living, he wouldn’t have so much time to interfere in Devin’s and my life. I’d like to see Devin run for president. Then Dad would be so busy with that he might get off my back.”

  “Ah, one can only dream.” But it was true. Joe Cavanaugh needed another hobby. She really didn’t know how Mary Cavanaugh put up with him.

  * * * *

  Dillon and Mikaela joined the other guests gathered around the flower-bedecked arbor in the center of the dungeon. Kaylin’s bridal attendants, Chloe Carlton, Gabriella Dellaveccia, and Nicollette Sommers, and their Doms were there as well as Jamie Devereau and his wife, Anne Sutton. The spotlights on the intimidating pieces of BDSM equipment had been turned out and the corners of the room were dark. Only the arbor was lit. Kaylin waited for Jack in the center of the arbor. She was barefoot and kneeling in the slave position. She had sheepskin-lined leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles that had be
en embroidered with heavy gold thread in an intricate floral design. They were obviously custom-made for this ceremony. Dillon saw Mikaela smile a real smile for the first time that night. She turned to him. “I don’t know how she got into that position in that long, tight dress. She’s going to need help getting up.”

  “I’m sure Jack won’t leave her stranded down there.”

  “They are great together. I hope they will always be this happy.”

  “Life has a way of interfering, but it does go on. People just have to hang on until the wheel turns their way again. That’s what we’re going to do, baby. We are going to hang on. Everything will be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  Jack Dalton Brown walked up to the arbor and stepped inside. He knelt down in front of Kaylin and softly whispered some words that the gathered group could not hear and she responded with what was apparently a “Yes, Master.” Dillon could see the small, glistening tears track down her face before she turned her shining eyes up to Jack and smiled. Then she bowed her head, and he clasped a soft leather collar encrusted with sparkling crystals and amethyst jewels around her neck. It was attached to a similarly decorated leash.

  Jack stood, put his hand down to Kaylin, and helped her to stand beside him. Dillon glanced at his watch. It was midnight. Jack turned to the crowd. “The Black Dahlia Hotel dungeon is now open for scenes.” All at once the spots over each of the stations came on and the equipment was bathed in bright light. The crowd burst into spontaneous applause. Jack led Kaylin by her jeweled leash to the center St. Andrew’s cross, helped her out of the tight dress until she was standing in only a beautiful red lace bra and matching red lace thong. He fastened her to the cross, and the guests began to migrate to the other now well-lit pieces of equipment. Jack had told him that the adjustable hydraulic steps on the St. Andrew’s crosses had originally been designed by Jamie Devereau for use on the Golden Dolphin. The steps could be adjusted for comfort no matter how tall the Dom or how short the sub. Clearly, Jack wished he’d known about that innovation when he’d been designing the dungeon at The Black Iris Club, his private club in the penthouse of the JDB Building.