No Time to Lie (Masters and Mercenaries – Reloaded #4) Read Online Lexi Blake

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Masters and Mercenaries - Reloaded Series by Lexi Blake
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
<<<<576775767778798797>154
Advertisement


Maybe that’s who she was right now. Maybe she was Constance Tyne and this op had begun.

He was the target, and she didn’t have to open her heart to him in any way. It was all part of the op. He was the bad guy, and she was going to take him down.

He lowered his mouth to her ear, whispering softly. “Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight? I thought you were lovely with blonde hair. You’re just as lovely now. I think you’ll always be lovely to me. And being alone with you is everything I dream about at night.”

She pulled away and for a second thought seriously about screaming out the word yellow, but that’s not what Constance would do. Constance wouldn’t care. Constance would see his whispered words of devotion as proof that what she was doing was working.

Taylor wanted to scream at him, but that would give him power. And he didn’t have any power she didn’t give him.

“You look good, too, Sir. Where would you like me?” If he wanted control of the scene, she would allow that.

He looked almost disappointed, but he reached for her hand again. “Come on. I saw a small space in the back when I checked this place out yesterday.”

They moved away from the stage, and she could speak a bit louder.

“I thought Sandra had it locked down.” If she hadn’t thought so, she likely would have done the same thing.

Drake’s smirk was arrogant and oh so sexy. “I broke in. She gave me a hearty lecture this morning, but I told her if she didn’t want me to break into her dungeon, she shouldn’t have made me sleep in a sex room with Brad, who is not in any way sexy. And he talks in his sleep about baseball stats. Nothing else. He recites baseball stats all night long.”

When he was being charming, it was hard to remember how much she hated this man. He amused her so much.

He led her over to one of the corner sections. This one was small and a bit on the utilitarian side, but they didn’t need much. There was a St. Andrews Cross and a spanking bench, along with a waist-high table that Drake set his kit on.

Most of the club members were involved in the scenes on the big stage, so they were relatively alone. However, the mood and feel of the place couldn’t be denied. This was a place of decadence, where people could play out their fantasies in a safe way.

Except for her. There was nothing safe about this, about him.

Drake turned away for a moment, opening his kit. “You should find your position.”

Her position? She’d forgotten about that part. Was she ready to drop to her knees in front of him? She’d only done this a couple of times, and absolutely never for a Dom she was probably going to see more than once. She’d barely played. She’d read and studied and watched other people but…

“Taylor, I need you on your knees, knees spread and head down. I’m not a stickler for a certain position, but I would prefer a straight spine.”

Constance wouldn’t hesitate. She would do the job.

Taylor took a deep breath and got to her knees. It wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped it would be. Grace Taggart made that shit look graceful. Like super graceful. She kind of started out that way and then slipped.

Drake was right there, catching her before she fell too far. His arms went around her, and he easily lifted her and got her into the right position. “These floors can be slippery.”

They weren’t. They were hand-scraped hardwoods. Sandra’s sub, Angie, had delighted in describing all the ways they’d refurbished the place so it somewhat resembled its former glory. “It used to be a brothel.”

He stepped back, but his gaze remained on her. “I’ve heard the rumors. Tell me what you liked about the scenes we watched.”

She wasn’t about to tell him how much she’d appreciated the beauty and intimacy of the scenes, how open the participants were and how she wished she had someone she could be so vulnerable with. “Chef Taggart has a nice chest. Honestly, so does his sub. Those two have the beautiful torso thing down.”

“Brat. Spread your knees.” He took a step back, his arms crossing over the best chest in the room—though she wasn’t about to tell him that. “And drop your head down. This is how we’ll start our scenes when we’re in a public space. In a private space they can start any way we like. If we’re alone, I’ll walk up to you, put a hand around the back of your neck, and you’ll know I’m in control. All you have to do to stop that play is to tell me red and I’ll stop.”



<<<<576775767778798797>154

Advertisement