Beg Me Read Online Free

kink—because
that’s
where they feel vulnerable.”
    “But she did die in the alley, Teresa. The cops and their forensics people know that much.”
    “Yeah,” I said softly, nodding. “Yeah, I know. I think sex got her in with whoever this was, but it might not be sex that was behind her murder. Can’t be sure yet. I mean, how could she offend these guys? What
are
their limits? Could be something else entirely that set them off.”
    His eyes flashed me a warning. “You’re not suggesting she was a druggie? No way!”
    “No, I’m not suggesting that. That’s what they want everyone to think.”
    “So you’re sure it’s a ‘they’ too?”
    “Don’t look so surprised,” I told him. “Listen, I think this drug-deal-alley business was a panic scenario, but it’s still a conspiracy that was behind her death. To dig up this Hispanic guy who died with her took research. And I don’t think one fellow alone could coerce Anna into an alley and then set up that dealer—all while making sure she didn’t bolt! I can’t be sure of the psychology, but if I have to make a guess, I think they’re pretty smug with themselves right now. When the police found the kinky stuff, they thought it was irrelevant. Police see drugs, they think drugs. So Anna’s killers think they’re in the clear. They want to taunt you. If they brag among themselves, it’s a closed circle—no fun in that. They want someone else to know they got away with it.”
    “They’re wrong,” he said, his voice flat and dead.
    I watched him pull out another drawer, and when his hand slapped down on the blotter there was a plastic
click
under his palm.
    “Here. Corporate credit card in your name. There’s a hefty limit on it, plenty for your expenses, but don’t go crazy, okay? I’ve already made a transfer into your account for payment. It should show up by the time you’re back in the UK.”
    He showed me the deposit slip, and I tried to keep my eyes from popping. Yeah, I’d be comfortable on this for a while. It almost made me feel guilty, since I felt honor-bound to investigate Anna’s death as her friend. But I had been cleaned out lately and wouldn’t have been able to afford even a cheap flight to New York.
    “Is there anything else you need to do the job?” he asked.
    I pointed to his computer. “You got broadband on that thing?”
    “Of course.”
    “Let me on it,” I said. “You may want to get a cup of tea. You won’t like the sites I have to look at.”
    He said I was right and that he was going for a walk.

    It didn’t take long to find all kinds of links related to black BDSM. I couldn’t even be sure that Lee’s information was good and that this organization was made up mostly of black people with maybe a few token white or Asian girls in the mix. He said it was exclusive, and if you want to stay exclusive, you don’t keep a website. Just like the ultra-chic club that doesn’t have a sign out front, everything word of mouth.
    I Googled away because I needed to start research somewhere, and I also had to reassure my client that I would get cracking.
    I wasn’t terribly surprised at the number of black BDSM sites. Master Hines, Master Tain’s, Master Vincent’s, pansexual conferences, Ebony Doms and Panthers’ Leather, Master Dred who’d create BDSM furniture for you, Sistas who ruled and plenty of chocolate that thundered. Sites for just looking at pics of sisters tied up, like Black Girls Bound and Ebony Bondage. Then there was Dark Connections, which had historical overviews, personals, links, whatever you needed. But all of this was surface-skimming, a tourist view without a third dimension. Okay, remind yourself what you got so far.
    The crime-scene forensics, except for a couple of details, don’t matter. All the stuff about the crystal meth, how Anna was dressed, who the Hispanic guy was—that’s all smoke screen, I told myself. Staged, just as Lee insisted.
    We know Anna liked getting tied up. We