Baring Mia
By: Kallista DaneHe must have seen the flash of pure rage in her eyes because he hurried on. “Alejandro was quite talkative, you know. Word got around, and Harmon was intrigued. Your boyfriend bragged to his business acquaintances about the relationship you two had. He said he was a serious Dom and described you as the perfect sub. I’m told that’s what Harmon is looking for, now that he’s discovered the thrill of BDSM.”
Mia flushed with embarrassment. Apparently not only had Alejandro destroyed her career, but he’d also betrayed her personally, laying out her darkest desires for the whole world to know. She’d always been aroused by the idea of being submissive, but until Alejandro came along she’d never had the nerve to admit those fantasies to anyone. She had no idea he bragged about her shameful secret to all his friends. Now even the FBI knew she was a closet spanko who got off on the idea of being dominated.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Agent Patterson. Alejandro is a thief and a liar. I’m surprised you’d believe anything he said.”
“Please, call me David.” Patterson’s eyes were warm, his voice soft. “I’m not here to judge you, Mia. Frankly, I’ve always had a great deal of interest in exploring that kind of relationship too.” He stared boldly at her, and she could almost see the wild images pouring through his head. But he went right back to business.
“According to my sources, BDSM has become Harmon’s newest obsession, He’s looking for someone with your special needs and desires. Being in a, shall we say, intimate setting with him would give you unlimited access to his private quarters, his personal computer, even his conversations with others.”
“So you want me to whore for the FBI?” Her voice was cold. She hoped he wouldn’t guess how much she was shaking inside.
“Let’s put it this way. I wouldn’t want you ever to do anything you didn’t want to do. You’d simply be going to work in Harmon’s company, doing for him essentially the same things you’ve done here. But if you get involved in a personal relationship with Harmon while you work there, one where you’re free to choose how far you want to take it, and that relationship puts you in a position to find out some things that would keep you out of prison and maybe put him there instead…well, would that be such a bad thing?”
Mia stared down at her hands, clenched into fists. She wanted to scream, to hit somebody, to smash things. She had an MBA, a resume full of accomplishments and honors. Now, suddenly, she was being treated like a slut. All because of a poor choice in her personal life. She could take her chances in the legal system, facing the possibility of years in prison for something she didn’t do, or sell her body to guarantee her freedom.
She took a deep breath. Always practical, she had to admit the choice was simple. She’d do whatever it took, whatever she had to do, to clear her name – and try to forgive herself for it later.
“I want it in writing. Your agreement that neither the FBI nor anyone else will attempt to prosecute me for any involvement in fraud or embezzlement at International Technology Consultants. Not now or at any time in the future, whether I’m able to find information that Harmon is guilty of a crime or not.”
“Done.”
They talked for nearly two hours, ironing out the details, making plans for how and when she’d contact him for the regular reports he wanted.
“I need to hear from you on a weekly basis at the very least,” he explained. “And you need to know we’ll be keeping an eye on you for your own safety. I’m not going to leave you out there alone, Mia. I have no reason to believe Harmon is dangerous, or I’d never suggest this. But we’re talking millions of dollars. That kind of money can make a man snap, do things he thought he’d never do.”
Or a woman, she thought, staring at her reflection in the mirror later that night. How did that old joke go? Will you fuck me for a dollar? How about for millions? Well, we’ve established what I am. At least my price is respectable.
Mia went into the kitchen, poured herself a drink, and carried it out to the balcony. Sinking into the same chair for a second night, she tossed back a shot of bourbon then gave way in the darkness to the tears she’d kept at bay throughout the long day.
