Read Under His Command (For His Pleasure, Book 17) for Free Online

and thumping bass line. As she passed by the closed doors, the sounds of people behind them were louder and more alarming.
    She heard muffled commands coming from masculine voices.
    And then came sounds of slapping, as if people were coming to blows—literally fighting with one another. Moans soon followed. And then there were more cracking, whipping sounds. More commands.
    Kennedy stopped and stilled herself, trying to hear what was going on. She crept next to one door and put her ear right to it.
    As she strained to listen, someone called out to her.
    “That’s really not acceptable behavior here, Miss Saunders.”
    Kennedy jumped away from the door and found herself just a few feet away from Easton Rather, who was wearing a similar if not identical outfit to what he’d worn earlier in the day. Only now, his shirt’s top few buttons were undone and his hair was mussed.
    “Mr. Rather,” she said, sounding as if he’d just walked in on her rifling through his wallet. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend anyone.”
    Easton strode a couple of steps toward her. She shrank back a little bit, afraid of him now that she was in his presence again. Somehow, she’d both expected and feared this moment from the beginning of her quest to locate him.
    “What are you confused about?” he demanded, as another loud crack sounded from behind the nearest door. This time, it was followed by the obvious response of a girl’s voice, moaning, something between pleasure and pain.
    Kennedy shot a frightened glance at the door and then looked back at Easton, who was smirking at her. “I don’t know where I am,” she said, gesturing around her. “I don’t know what this place is.”
    “Yes you do,” he replied. “The woman who figured out how to find me here, knows exactly where she is.”
    Kennedy tried to steady her nerves, but Easton’s intent gaze was making her falter. Her came another step closer. Now he was close enough that she could see the sheen of sweat on his skin beneath his unbuttoned shirt. She could see herself dimly reflected in his eyes. He was studying her, the way she might study a particularly interesting math textbook.
    She took in the sounds and sights of this place, the secretive nature of it, and the kind of man that Easton seemed to be. “I guess,” she said, “that I’m in some kind of brothel.”
    Easton’s interested smirk turned into a wide grin. “Come on now. You can do better than that.”
    “It’s an S&M dungeon.”
    He crossed his arms. “Now you’re getting closer. But you’re not there yet, Kennedy. Do you want to know what it really is?”
    She nodded hesitantly. “Yes.”
    “Are you sure?”
    She felt her breathing almost come to a standstill, as Easton stepped towards her once, then twice, until his face was just inches from hers.
    She could smell him now—his cologne, and the scent of his expensive clothing, his hair product, and the muskiness of his skin. He was a man, and not one of those bookish academics she was used to talking to at MIT. Nor was he just some rich boy with his playthings.
    Easton Rather, she knew, was a “serious man.” That was how her father had described someone who could handle himself in all aspects of life. A man of both intelligence and strength shouldn’t be afraid to walk into a seedy bar or a boardroom, a courthouse or a back alley.
    Easton struck her as just such a guy, even though he was only a few years older than her.
    And now he was close enough to kiss her, and suddenly she realized that she wanted him to kiss her more than she wanted anything else, including the job. She would have given up the job to spend the night with him—as terrified as she was of the prospect.
    At that moment she would’ve given up everything for a night with him.
    But Easton wasn’t moving in to kiss her, though she could feel his breath on her skin, her cheek, then her collarbone and as he looked her up and down.
    “Why did you follow me here?”