The judge covered her hand with his own making her press harder. Gina tsked. “Not yet, Judge. I won’t play at all if you don’t obey.”

He stared at her as if deciding how serious she was, and then reluctantly released her hand. Gina stepped back and leaned on the dresser. “Get naked. I want to watch.”

“If I do, what do I get in return?”

Her eyes narrowed, her voice hardened. “No questions, no demands. I’m in charge. Want to play or not?” The words were like the flick of a whip.

There was a long silence before the judge shoved his shirt to the ground, and then quickly toed off his shoes before stripping off the remainder of his clothes. Standing before her na**d and erect, he smiled.

Gina walked toward him, stopping a mere inch from touching him. She looked him up and down, and then circled him. When she was behind him she smacked his backside. Hard.

He started to turn. “Hey.”

She pressed her fingers in his back. “My rules,” she warned. When he turned again she smacked him even harder. He didn’t turn this time. “Lie on the bed.”

When he was flat on his back Gina opened a dresser drawer and pulled out three scarves. His eyes widened but he didn’t say anything. Standing above him she let one of the scarves lightly trail around his erection. He jerked slightly, his eyes closing.

She picked up one of his hands and he reached for her with the other. She pointed at his hand. “Stop, or else.” He did. Seconds later both of his hands were tied. She straddled him, intentionally teasing him as she blindfolded him.

Leaning down, pressing her chest against his, her bottom against his erection, she whispered in his ear. “How’s it feel being helpless, Judge?”

He moaned. “Like I’m going to go crazy if you don’t touch me soon.”

Laughing softly, Gina moved off him. “Come back,” he said urgently.

“Soon,” she said as she moved towards the door. She pulled it open and smiled at Marco.

His brow inched up. “It is done?”

One side of her mouth inched up. “Of course.”

“Excellent.” Gina stepped back to allow him to enter. Once in the room he walked to the judge and tightened the knots on his wrists.

“Who’s there?” the judge said abruptly. “Gina?”

“Gina is here,” Marco said and watched the judge stiffen.

Even with the blindfold, his features showed fear. Though Marco had never met the judge, his French accent was an easy giveaway of his relationship to Arel.

“What in the hell?” the judge blurted out. He started to tug on the restraints.

“Calm down,” Gina told him. “It’s just a little game.”

The judge didn’t listen, bucking with panic.

“Enough!” Marco blurted and yanked a gun from his waistband. He pressed it to the judge’s temple and cocked it. “Be still or I will shoot.”

The judge froze.

“You are going to have a good time, Judge,” Marco assured him with absolute truth in his words. “You and Gina are going to play. I like to watch, it’s really quite simple. As long as you do as you are told, it will be painless.” He paused and let the words sink in. “Understood?”

Slowly the judge nodded.

“Good,” Marco said and set the gun on the end table. “Get a glass of water, and come here, Gina.”

Gina did as he instructed and then sashayed over to Marco, setting the glass on the table and pressing her body against his. “Can I warm up on you, baby?” she asked as her hand explored the ripples of muscle she loved along his shoulders.

“Non,” he said. “I’ll watch.” He pressed a strip of sweetness to her lips and she swallowed it. He gave her another. “More. Tonight is special.”

Marco handed her four strips. “Give them to him.”

She sashayed over to him and ripped off the blindfold. She wanted to see the panic in his eyes.

“Forget it,” The judge bit out through clenched teeth. “I’m not taking that.”

Marco picked up the gun and held it to his head again. “The drugs will make you feel good. The gun, I assure you, will not.”

The judge took the drugs.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Luke reached the stairs, his coat concealing a variety of weapons and the journal. He might have to get rid of most of them, but he was banking on keeping at least one. He headed through the entry gates and then down the stairs to the train terminal where there were nothing but concrete beams and benches.

Footsteps sounded behind him and he turned to find Hendrix coming down the stairs with a gun in his hand and with three other men following him. “Move to the concrete pole and put your hands on it.”

“You’re Dragonfly,” Luke said. “I should have known.”

“Should have, would have, could have,” he said. “But you didn’t and I can shoot you and get away with it, so I suggest you move.”

Luke pressed his hands to the concrete wall, and two men came to stand on either side of him. One searched him and handed off his four guns and two knives, before grabbing the journal.

The men backed away and Luke turned to watch Hendrix set the journal on fire and then throw it onto the tracks. “That was easy,” he said brushing his hands together. “I thought you Walker brothers were good?” He shrugged. “Guess not.”

“Was it the money that turned you, or were you always like this?” Luke asked.