top of page
  • Writer's pictureKD Robichaux

Read the First Two Chapters of Until We Meet Again!

Copyright KD Robichaux 2018

Until We Meet Again

Chapter 1

“Bro, I have a mission for you. You mind coming into my office for a minute?” Seth’s voice comes over the intercom in my own office down the hall from his.

“Yeah, be there in a sec,” I tell him, and hear him disconnect as I close out the paperwork I’d been finishing up from my last job.

It never gets old marking a mission Complete. Knowing another asswipe is off the streets, unable to hurt anyone else, is satisfying in a way that makes me feel like I’m actually doing some real good in this world.

For as long as I can remember, ever since the day I got out of the Army all those years ago, I’ve been part of a team of mercenaries. Our leader, a psychologist we all affectionately call Doc, put together our group after countless years of feeling inadequate in his job as a therapist. Yes, he was doing his part to help heal the victims of sexual assault and other horrific crimes, but after so many of his patients informed him their attackers were set free with barely a slap on the wrist, he couldn’t take it anymore. Too many rapists and evil motherfuckers were getting away with shit just because their fancy lawyers spun a good enough story, some using daddy’s money.

I stand and walk over to my door, and as soon as I open it, the club’s thumping bass-filled music fills the hallway. I can feel the sultry beat in my chest, and it immediately makes me miss Clarice, my best friend. My secret lover. She’s never been here to my club before. But maybe someday.

Besides having our mercenary team, which is hidden behind a legitimate security company, the four of us—Doc, Seth, Corbin, and I—own and run a BDSM club. It was Seth’s idea in the team’s beginning, worried our other business wouldn’t bring in enough money for all of us, seeing how missions were few and far between. But soon, we were quite busy, word spreading of the men who acted as karma’s pawns, taking out the bad guys the justice system let slip through the cracks.

I head inside Seth’s office, closing the door behind me and shutting out the music, before sinking into one of his comfortable leather chairs in front of his desk. “Whatcha got for me?” I ask, ready for any excuse to get out of here.

“Job just came in from Tennessee. An old college buddy of mine I’ve kept in touch with, Justin, called and said they have a problem. The PI company he works for caught and put this guy away a few months ago, but—shocker—the rich bastard was able to get out,” Seth says, typing away on his computer as his eyes behind his glasses move back and forth across his giant screen. It’s nothing compared to his “spaceship” he’s got at his place, but it still makes the computer in my office look like a Game Boy.

“Oh, thank fuck,” I exhale, drawing his eyes to me.

“Not the reaction I was expecting.” He lifts a brow.

“Was getting really fucking burnt out on these detective missions I’ve been going on lately. I’m not made to figure out who the bad guy is. Neck-down work is good enough for me. Point me in the direction of the motherfucker, and I’ll take him out faster than you can sneeze at him. But the whole putting together clues to discover who murdered Colonel Mustard with the candlestick in the ballroom thing… to hell with that for a while,” I confess, not even ashamed to admit to one of my best friends that shit is way above my pay grade. My last mission, one a couple of hours away in Raleigh, seriously did some damage to my confidence. Hopefully, getting back to what I’m really good at—murdering bad guys and making it look like an accident—will make me feel better.

He types a few more moments, and then his printer comes to life. Reaching into his desk drawer, he pulls out a manila folder and tucks the freshly printed papers inside, handing it to me with a smile. “Well, here’s your silver platter, bro. This is a get-in, get-out job if I’ve ever seen one, and it pays damn well too. Looks like a couple of families of some of the victims pooled together to get this fuckstick a one-way ticket straight to hell,” Seth tells me, and I take the folder from him before standing.

“Thanks, man.”

“Careful though, Brian. Wouldn’t want you to end up as a sex slave somewhere off in Eastern Europe,” he warns with a chuckle.

I look back at him over my shoulder. “Sex trafficker?”

“Yup.” His grin turns evil.

“Oh, this’ll be fun.” I match his expression before heading home to pack.


“You’re actually calling me at a decent hour? What is this sorcery?” Clarice’s lyrical voice fills my ear.

I’m sure she can hear the smile in my voice. “Hello, lover. I’ve got a job. It’ll be a quick one, thank God, but I’d still love for you to meet me. Where are you right now?”

“I’m in Ashville. I just finished up a photo shoot at the Biltmore Estate for a travel magazine and was just about to go to bed before heading home in the morning. Where’s your mission taking you this time, big guy?” she asks, the image of her naked form crawling beneath the hotel sheets causing me to pause and enjoy my imagination for a moment.

“Nashville. Did you drive or fly?”

“I flew. Gotta take my rental car back in the morning. I can cancel my return flight if you want to pick me up on your way through. I always get the refundable kind… since I never know when I’ll be receiving these rendezvous calls.” She purrs the last part, and my dick twitches at the same time my heart thumps inside my chest, knowing she keeps me in mind, anticipating the next time we’ll get to see each other.

Clarice has been my best friend since we met years ago when I was deployed to Afghanistan. She’s a photographer and was there documenting everything for a magazine. Our friendship blossomed to include benefits of a physical nature, and while my feelings have grown to unequivocal love—an emotion I never thought possible with my history—which I express to her in every way I can except verbally, she, on the other hand, chooses to hide her reciprocated feelings for me. Even though I can see it in her eyes every time I make love to her. Hear it in her voice every time she says my name. Feel it in my heart every time she meets me on my missions, no matter how far or inconvenient it is. The way she worries about me… it’s not the worry for a friend, no matter how close the connection. It’s the worry of a woman who loves a man with every fiber of her being, the way I love her.

Yet, she still isn’t ready to admit it.

I glance at my watch, seeing it’s only 10:00 p.m. Ashville is only four hours away. “If I leave right now, I can be to you around 2:00 a.m. I know my call came earlier than usual, but would you mind having a gentleman caller at a not so decent hour?”

She laughs, the sexy sound going straight to my cock. “Just as long as you promise not to be a gentleman when you get here.”

Did I just come? Pretty sure my pants are wet now.

“But, beautiful Clarice. That’s against our rules. I’m yours to use how you see fit until I’ve completed my job. And then I get to take you as my reward.” As if she needs reminding. It’s been this way between us for as long as I can remember. Our switch relationship—if you can call it that—is the highlight of my very being. Giving myself to the tiny, curvy, dark-haired vixen, allowing her to dominate my 6’8” hulking body any way she pleases… just knowing the pleasure I give her with my submission is enough to light up my once darkened soul. And then at the end of every job, she gifts me with her own submission. Even though I’m one of four Doms who co-own a BDSM club, she is the only woman I’ve been with since I met her. She’s the only one I want. And until she tells me I can no longer have her, she will be the sole recipient of my domination, and she will forever be the only person on this earth to ever call me their submissive.

“True story, big guy. I'm at the Radisson, room 408. Now, I’m going to sleep until you get here. The Biltmore is freaking huge, and I’m beat. Drive safe, and I’ll see you soon,” she orders, just as I’m closing the door to my truck, throwing my bag in the back seat.

“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her, and we end the call.

Chapter 2

By the time I get to the hotel, I’m blurry-eyed and exhausted. All I want to do is curl around Clarice’s soft body and sleep until it’s time to return her car. But the moment I lumber out of the elevator and to the door, her proximity hits me like a shot of adrenaline straight to my heart. I knock, and as soon as I hear her approach on the other side of the door, I’m wide awake and bracing myself for my first glimpse of her.

She opens the door, with one hand rubbing the sleep from her beautiful eyes, and when her vision is clear, her smile lights up the entire hallway as she beams up at me. “Hey, big guy,” she murmurs, taking a step back to let me in.

When the door is closed, I spin us until I have her pressed against it, bending down to whisper in her ear, “Such a good girl, Clarice. Nice to see your punishment for answering the door naked last time actually worked.”

She shivers as she laughs lightly, her arms curling around my neck. “Nah, I was just freezing my tits off. I couldn’t figure out how to turn the damn AC down, so I bundled up.”

I growl at her sassiness, though I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Let me ever find out you opened a door naked without me on the other side of it, and I’ll be forced to use my skills on some poor, unsuspecting delivery guy. You wouldn’t want that, would you, lover?” I nibble up the column of her neck, feeling her hips jerk forward against me.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. And no more going commando under skirts. Got it. You know, you sure are bossy for not having completed your mission yet.” She raises her perfect eyebrow at me, pursing her lips, which I kiss quickly before backing away.

“Pardon me.” I give her a bow, placing my hand over my heart and grinning at her. When I stand to my full, towering height, I let my backpack fall off my shoulder and land at the foot of the king-size bed.

She takes a step forward, crossing her arms and sending her luscious breasts up to her collarbones. God, what I would give to press my face between them just to breathe in her scent.

“How about we play a little game?” she prompts, walking over to the bedside lamp and turning it on.

Combined with the bathroom light that was already on, I can see her perfectly clearly now, and fuck me, she’s as beautiful as ever. Her long, dark hair reaches the center of her back, causing my eyes to move downward to her full, round ass that’s covered in cotton pajama pants. I smile, seeing they’re the ones she stole from me a few missions ago, the bottoms so long on her they pool around her feet, considering she’s more than a foot shorter than me. When she turns back to face me, my gaze travels up to her hardened nipples behind her light gray tank top, just begging me to toy with them. Finally, I meet her eyes, my heart speeding when I see the mischievous look in their twinkling depths.

“What kind of game, lover? I’m surprised you aren’t tying me up and forcing the details of my new job out of me.” I clear my throat, trying to clear away the huskiness as I watch her approach me slowly, the sway of her hips and the bounce of her breasts like a siren’s call straight to my cock.

“Who says I’m not?” She smirks, walking around me in a circle and dragging her hand around my waist as she goes. When she reaches my front once again, her fingers trail downward until she strokes my length behind my zipper, and my eyes momentarily close. “Just kidding. I won’t be tying you up, but I do want those details.”

When I open my eyes again, I look down into her impish face, savoring her attention. “So what kind of game?” I repeat, anxious to be inside her tight heat as she teases me.

“How about… for every detail you give me, we’ll lose an item of clothing? Kinda like strip poker, but without the cards,” she tells me.

“I’ll see your game, and raise you. I have a folder full of not only details about the case… but photographs as well.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her, watching her face light up. My crazy girl. She lives for crime shows and serial killer documentaries. Sometimes I think she keeps me around just to be close to the action.

“Deal,” she chirps, and then twirls around before bouncing onto the end of the bed. She places her hands behind her and leans back on them, cocking her head to the side and giving me an expectant look.

I square myself with her as she looks up at me, and cross my arms over my chest. “The job is in Nashville. No detective work this time. Seth’s old college friend, Justin, works for a private investigator slash bounty hunter, and they’re paying me good money to take out someone well deserving of my skillset.”

She looks me up and down, biting her full bottom lip. “Shirt,” she commands with a lift of her chin.

Without hesitation, I grasp the bottom hem and lift my T-shirt over my head, watching her breasts rise and fall with a sigh at the sight of my bare chest. I love the way I affect her so easily.

“I’m glad they’re paying you for this one. That last one stressed you out way too much for it to be a pro bono case. You’re too giving sometimes,” she scolds gently. But she has no idea what I would give to call her mine. “Continue.”

“Javier Flores was kidnapping women and selling them as sex slaves in Eastern Europe. Justin and the guys were able to catch him and put him away, but he was acquitted, thanks to all the money he had hidden away and a team of the sleaziest lawyers this side of the Mississippi,” I tell her.

She tilts her head to the other side. “Shoes,” she instructs, and I toe off my brown leather boots, kicking them away.

This time, I don’t wait for her prompt. “They’ve got eyes on him, watching his every move. They don’t want to risk him kidnapping anyone else, so instead of waiting for him to do just that, they want me to take him out. And since a few of these women died in transit, he fits my code—life for a life.”

“Jeans,” she says, sitting up and tucking her legs beneath her. “How did the lawyers get him off?”

When my jeans fall to my feet, I step out of them, standing before her in only my black boxer briefs and white socks. “They were able to convince one of Flores’s employees to falsely confess to the crimes, along with fake alibis for Flores himself.”

She lifts her arms, pulling her hair up in a high ponytail and somehow making the movement look sensual as she uses the elastic around her wrist to keep it in place. “Hmmm. I’m going wiiith…” she draws out, before finishing, “underwear.”

I shake my head and chuckle, hooking my thumbs into the top of my boxer briefs and yanking them down. When I stand back up, my erection bobs up and down, practically waving at her to draw her attention.

“Well… I guess someone else doesn’t think it’s chilly in this room,” she breathes, eyeing my cock before lifting her gaze to mine. “Go on, big guy.”

I bend over and open my backpack, pulling the manila folder out. I rifle through the contents, finding one of the photos. “Meet Javier Flores, sex trafficker who will soon be meeting his demise.” I hold it out to her, and she takes it from me, giving it a close look before handing it back.

She grasps the bottom of her tank in her hands and lifts it over her head, her bare breasts swaying from side to side as she tosses her shirt down with mine. I swallow thickly before finally tearing my eyes away from her perfection to look through the folder for the next photo. “A collage of nine of the women who have been kidnapped.”

Her hand traces a couple of the girls’ faces, her expression turning sad for a moment before she gives the photo back to me. Suddenly, she stands, the soft flesh of her front pressing to mine as she goes up on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around my neck. “Their families will be so grateful to have you avenge their babies, Bri,” she whispers, kissing the underside of my chin. “And I’m proud to call you my best friend.”

I wish you would call me more than that, I think, but all daydreams are cut off as she takes a step back, hooks her fingers in the elastic of the pajama bottoms’ waistband, and shoves them over her full hips, letting them fall to the floor. It leaves her completely naked before me, her hard nipples just begging to be devoured. The rest of her lightly tanned skin is covered in chill bumps, and I long to warm her with my body heat. But I have to wait for her command. If I don’t, she’ll make me pay for it, withholding that sweet mouth and that delicious pussy from me until she decides I’ve been punished enough. The vixen.

She sits on the bed and then scoots back until her legs are stretched out in front of her. I stand still, waiting for her to tell me what she wants, unknowing what’s to come. Usually, she pounces like the tigress she is, taking control and riding me until she collapses. I have no idea what’s going on in that pretty head of hers.

After a long moment, the tension rising between us with every breath taken, her feet slide against the comforter as she spreads her legs wide, showing me her glistening bare pussy. I weaken in the knees at the sight, but I steel my stance, giving her my submission fully by not allowing myself to give in to my feebleness. She’s the only one who can do this to me. She’s the only one with the power to bring this giant of a man to his very knees with merely the promise of getting to bury deep inside her.

She bites her lip when she sees my cock flex, a bead of precum at the very tip. She eyes it hungrily before meeting my eyes once again. “My, my, big guy,” she purrs. “I’m famished. Why don’t you come over here so we can both get something to eat?”

That’s all the go-ahead I need before I shoot forward, turning around as I crawl on top of her. She takes hold of my hardness just as my knees push into the mattress above her head, and I bury my face in her drenched heat like a man starved. I groan into her depths as her lips wrap around the head of my dick, and I concentrate all my efforts on giving her pleasure with my mouth so I don’t accidentally thrust down her throat. She’s never topped me from the bottom before, and I’m finding it difficult not to take control in this sixty-nine position.

I suck her into my mouth, savoring the taste that is uniquely Clarice’s, and feel her hands go to my ass. She digs her fingers into the muscles there, pulling me to her and then loosening her grip over and over, setting a rhythm for me to follow on my own as she moans around my shaft. My legs quiver as I try not to shove myself deep, remembering not to take my pleasure from her, but to receive what she’s freely giving.

Suddenly, her knees shoot up until the tops of her thighs press into my shoulders as the practiced strokes of my tongue against her swollen clit sends her into a swift orgasm. I squeeze my eyes closed and growl against her wet flesh as she screams around my cock, forcing myself not to spill inside her mouth as she sucks ferociously. Finally, she pushes her hands against my hips and her thighs against my shoulders, signaling for me to get off her.

Within a blink of an eye, she maneuvers herself around beneath me as I hold myself up on my hands and knees. And with her breathy “Give it to me,” I bury myself to the hilt inside her still throbbing pussy, relishing the vision before me as she presses her head into the bed and cries, “Brian!”

With my name on her lips and her core rippling around me, combined with how close she’d already gotten me with her devilish mouth, I thrust only once… twice… three times, before my orgasm overtakes me.

With my forehead pressed to hers as I catch my breath, I smile down at her. “That didn’t take long.”

She huffs out a shaky laugh. “Guess I couldn’t resist you in those sexy socks.”

My brow furrows, and I straighten my arms on either side of her head to turn and glance back at my still socked feet. I let out a bark of laughter, seeing the Gryffindor socks she got me for Christmas after forcing me to take some quiz online to see which Hogwarts house I would belong to.

She giggles, looking up at me with her eyes filled with adoration and satisfaction. “Now if only you wore the matching shirt I got you. I could throw it on and feel like a Hufflepuff coed who snuck into the Gryffindor hall to bang the hot Quidditch player.”

With a grin, I pull out of her gently, leaning down to kiss her quickly before going to the bathroom. I bring out a washcloth dampened with warm water and clean her tenderly. Turning her around, I pull her into my body and mold myself to her back, kissing her shoulder before swiftly falling asleep.

Continue Reading HERE:

Signed Paperback Giveaway in the pinned post on my author page, KD Robichaux

94 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page