Cherise Sinclair - If only

“Think Sally will show up tomorrow?” Vance asked.

Galen looked over, his bad mood derailed. “If she does, we’ll take her further.”

“If she agrees.” Vance dipped his cookie into his drink before taking a bite. Vodka-laden chocolate with a cream filling. Not bad. “You suppose she’s still rocky from breaking up with that guy?”

“Doubtful. She didn’t seem the type to want to settle down.”

“There is that.” He heard she’d played with most of the Shadowlands Doms. No different from what he and Galen were doing—checking out the submissives. “Maybe he got serious and she dumped him. Would have given a few bucks to watch that fight.”

Galen actually grinned and answered in Maine slang. “Ayuh.”

Definitely yes . God knew they preferred subs who didn’t get attached. The time to settle down hadn’t yet arrived…although sometimes he envied his married friends. Not that much though.

Vance took a drink of his vodka, remembering a pretty blonde from a month ago. Beautiful. Totally into serving his every need. But after two scenes, she’d been ready to get married. Sally wasn’t that type. “Good thought, gagging her. Seems like she uses that mouth on her like a sword and shield.”

“And we rendered her defenseless. She might see it that way too. Might not like how much she surrendered.” Galen rubbed his jaw. “Interesting little submissive. I bet she shores up those defenses now. She might not even want to play with us.”

Vance shook his head. There was chemistry between them and…something else he couldn’t put his finger on. “After the way we left her? Needing to come so bad she was shaking? Fifty bucks says she jumps at the chance to play.” And fuck but he wanted her in his ropes again. Wanted those sweet, vulnerable eyes looking up at him.

“I’ll take that bet.”

I’m the man! Sally did a seated victory boogie that netted her startled glances from the others in the coffee shop. Ignoring them, she grinned at her laptop display. E-mail after e-mail had filled the folder she’d set up for the Harvest Association.

The folder bore the name Scum Suckers in honor of Kim, who’d been an unwilling guest in their establishment. Fucking slave traffickers. You are going to be sorry you targeted me . And Dan would be sorry for keeping such a messy desk. The photos she’d taken included a list of e-mail addresses from suspected members of the Harvest Association. The temptation to screw with them had been too much. So, last week, fueled by a bit too much alcohol, she’d sent e-mails with her special custom-designed computer worm to each address.

As Sally sipped her turtle mocha coffee, the sociable noise of the coffee shop surrounded her. Having others around was comforting, considering she was kind of snooping around the den of a very big bear. She’d be much safer if the bear—aka the Harvest Association—never discovered her tracks, right?

Harvest Association . Sheesh. The Midwesterner in her was offended by the name. Harvest meant crops like corn and beans. Good things. Harvesting shouldn’t refer to humans, let alone enslaving women.

They needed to be put away, but Galen and Vance’s team hadn’t managed to identify the top dipwads. But I can.

And ta-da! E-mails now filled the Scum Sucker folder, showing her sneaky computer virus had gained access to some mail systems. I’m the man! Now every e-mail those men received or sent was blind copied to Sally.

With anticipation making her bounce in her chair, she opened the folder. But the first e-mail held nothing interesting. Or the second. Or the third. Well, spit on a snowball . Just as well that she’d been too busy to check the folder until today. The fourth revealed a man was cheating on his wife. Sally blinked at the suggestive language he’d sent to his girlfriend. Could two bodies truly get into that position?

However, the next e-mail had been sent to one of the Association people they titled an overseer. One step up. Perfect . Slowly Sally worked her way through the Scum Sucker folder, adding new people to gift with her worm. Since the sender was familiar to the receiver, her e-mails would be opened.

Almost at the end, another overseer’s e-mail mentioned several New York “shipments” being ordered. A chill slid down her spine and lodged in her stomach. The shipments were women scheduled to be kidnapped. All too soon, the Harvest Assholeyation would auction them off to rich, sadistic buyers.

Now what? Last week, she’d sent off the worm for oh, so many reasons. Like getting revenge for what the bastards had done to Linda and Kim, and yeah, because she still felt guilty for almost getting Linda killed. And definitely because finding out they’d targeted her for kidnapping had sorely pissed her off. And— okay, admit it —she’d always wanted to be a hero.

She totally hadn’t expected to discover they were planning another auction. How should she deal with this information?

She took a sip of her coffee in an attempt to warm her frozen insides. Knowing how Kim and Linda had suffered, she needed to warn the targets, somehow.

And then maybe the Feds could plant another decoy. Galen and Vance were clever that way. Last year, they’d had Gabi pose as a bratty trainee in hopes of getting kidnapped. Lord, Gabi had been so good she’d fooled everyone.

When Linda joined the Shadowlands, Sally had learned about the horrors of human trafficking. Linda was older than Sally’s usual girlfriends, but too young to be a mother figure…although she was the most motherly person Sally had ever met. Last January in the Shadowlands, Linda had heard the voice of a slaver—one she’d never actually seen.

Sally sipped her coffee, forcing the liquid past her tight throat as she remembered her own stupidity. She’d blithely suggested Linda should join the trainees to help search for the slaver.

Great suggestion. The psychopathic slaver had caught Linda. Sally’s teeth ground together. One minute Linda had been in the Shadowlands, gone the next. Just like with her mother, Sally couldn’t fix it. If Linda had been murdered, her death would’ve been Sally’s fault. Although Linda acted as if Sally had nothing for which to apologize, Sally wouldn’t ever forgive herself.

Galen and Vance hadn’t been there that night. They’d had to deal with some problem in the northeast. But Linda had mentioned that the two men felt responsible as well. What a horrible, horrible feeling. How could they stand making those kinds of decisions?

She stared at her drink, recalling the harsh lines in Galen’s face. He seemed so driven sometimes. At least Vance watched out for him. Funny that they were so close. She smiled slightly. She’d asked the other subs if the guys were gay. They weren’t—they just liked to share a woman.

As Sally remembered the previous weekend, a slow slide of desire vanquished the last of the cold. They sure did a good job of sharing—and dominating—together. She’d never, never felt so totally at a loss, knowing she couldn’t… manipulate was a bit extreme…couldn’t influence the Dom’s decisions. But they hadn’t given an inch.

And the way they’d watched her and touched her. Gentle and edging on cruel.

As her core throbbed at the memories, she squirmed in her seat. Wasn’t it odd how she was just dying for them to play with her again and yet…uncomfortable…at the thought.

But even beyond that, how awkward that the Feebies were in the Shadowlands at all. If they ever found out she’d hacked into the bad guys’ e-mail systems, they wouldn’t be happy.