Love Is Danger (Club Aegis Book 3)

by Christie Adams

  Something else that had given him great pleasure was dealing with the bastard she’d had the great good sense to ditch. He’d seen her thinly veiled annoyance at the latest text message to come from the loser, and having had enough of the pest, Cam had taken her phone from her and called her ex.

  A few choice words had been enough to get the message across. When he finished the call, Cam had turned back to Stacie, intending to return her phone, only to find her standing there with her hands on her hips, absolutely furious with him. She had then told him in no uncertain terms that she was entirely capable of dealing with the arsehole and didn’t need his help. Having put him in his place, she’d taken her phone back, switched it off, and then proceeded to kiss him sweetly. She was a feisty one all right.

  It was time, though, to take things further. They’d discussed Beth’s book, and as they’d done so it had become apparent that while Stacie had no firsthand experience, as she’d pointed out, she was definitely interested in not just reading about D/s but exploring it too, and exploring it with him. Cam hadn’t realised how jaded he was in danger of becoming until Stacie’s quiet enthusiasm began to infect him too.

  “Thanks, Cam.”

  She went to take the bags from him, but he wasn’t having that. “I’m carrying them up for you, Stacie. No arguments.”

  At that, her face fell—only a little, but more than enough for him to pick up on it. He looked at her, his expression one of expectation. He’d give her five seconds to answer him. One…two…three…

  “Cam, you really don’t have to, I can manage—”

  “Stacie.” He silenced her with no more than her name. “Enough. Whatever’s going through your mind, it stops right now. I’m taking these up for you. Then you’re going to make me a cup of coffee, we’re going to have an hour or so together, and after that, while I run a couple of errands, you’re going to get ready for me to pick you up at seven for dinner. Now show me the way.”

  The building housed half a dozen apartments over three levels. Stacie’s was on the top floor and as he followed her through the front door, Cam’s first impression of it was that it was clean and tidy, furnished for comfort rather than current fashion. Unlike his place, Stacie’s home had never been subject to the whims of a professional interior designer. When he took the bags into the bedroom, he tried not to look at the bed. Again. Their first time together was going to be at his place, tonight, and if he had his way—not that there was any doubt on that score—she wouldn’t be back here until after they’d picked up her new car.

  “Now, how about that coffee?”

  Again, she looked uncomfortable. “I only have instant, I’m afraid.”

  “Instant’s fine, honey.” He wanted her to be more relaxed around him, but it seemed like she was all nerves as she filled the kettle and put granules, sugar and milk in the mugs. He was quietly impressed, though, that she remembered how he took it.

  Her back to him, she was watching the kettle boil. Her shoulders were stiff and he could almost feel the tension radiating from them. He pushed himself away from the cupboard he’d been leaning against and went to stand behind her. She offered no resistance when he wrapped one arm around her waist, anchoring her to him.

  “Relax, beautiful,” he urged her quietly, using his other hand to turn her head gently to one side. “We’re going to be together tonight…all night. I’ll look after you, I promise.” He nuzzled her temple—she smelled of spring flowers. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  “Cam, I—”

  “Nothing. To. Worry. About. Switch your mind off, just let yourself feel. Close your eyes, honey. Good girl.”

  He leaned down and kissed her mouth, his lips tenderly exploring hers. He’d kissed her many times over the weekend, and each time had left him wanting more of her sweetness.

  Things were moving fast and going deep—Stacie knew it and she didn’t care. Her head was trying to play the common-sense card, telling her to slow things down, but her female instincts had the upper hand. She was with Cam now, and the same instincts that made her want him so badly were also telling her that she could trust him.

  He was a man like no other, she knew that already, and she wanted—so much—to experience everything that being with him had to offer. Having met Beth, seen at firsthand what a Dominant/submissive relationship could really be like, she wanted to find out for herself. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The time she’d already spent with Cam had been an education. After he’d kissed her goodnight at the door of her bedroom while at the Lombards’ house, she’d gone to bed and read more of Beth’s book with new eyes.

  And it wasn’t just what Cam could offer in terms of a D/s relationship—it was the man himself, someone with whom she’d happily be in a relationship, D/s or not.

  So she let herself relax into his strong embrace, wanting so much more than the touch of his mouth to hers, knowing that just a few hours from now, she would have it. No clothes between them…and no deceptions, no lies either.

  “That’s better, beautiful,” he said, when their lips finally parted. “I want you to relax, ready for tonight. I have things to do when I leave here—when I go, I want you to take a nice long bath and then dress for dinner. Be ready for seven.”

  “Where are we going? For dinner, I mean.”

  “It’s a surprise. Whatever you wear will be fine. You’ll be staying with me until we go to Winterleigh and pick your car up on Thursday, so pack a bag for the rest of the week.”

  Just like that. What was it Beth had said? If there’s something they want, then they will go after it until they get it.

  And the thing about it was, Stacie was more than happy to agree. She wanted this. The thought of being with Cam in a full-on relationship made her want to do cartwheels; the thought of what was to come that evening filled her with nervous anticipation.

  “I’ll be ready,” she promised.

  Coffee was over too quickly—the apartment seemed awfully quiet and empty without him. Stacie checked the time. He’d be back in a little under three hours, so plenty of time to carry out her instructions. She smiled to herself, thinking how good it felt to have a man in her life who didn’t have her on edge all the time. At least, not in a negative way.

  With the laundry started, she packed one bag again with a variety of clothes, and then she filled the bath, giving herself plenty of time to relax and luxuriate in the bubbles. She washed her hair too, dried it carefully, and was still ready for Cam’s arrival a good half-hour ahead of time. Her heart leapt when she heard his voice through the intercom. She buzzed him into the building and was waiting for him at the open door to her apartment.

  And oh, he looked good. The crisp black dress shirt, open at the neck and teamed with an immaculate black suit and perfectly polished black shoes, showed off his tanned skin, blue eyes and dark-blond hair in a way that would reduce any woman breathing and over the age of consent to a boneless mass of panting need. She could so vouch for that.

  Those eyes held hers for a second, and then he stepped through the door, closed it behind him and laid one hand against her cheek, holding her to receive a kiss that pulsed through every cell, every atom in her body. In a response she couldn’t control even if she’d wanted to, she put her arms around him and pressed closer, moaning into his mouth as he took what he wanted from her—took what she gave freely and without reservation.

  When the kiss ended, he laid his forehead against hers. His voice was hoarse when he spoke her name in greeting.

  “You look incredible,” he continued, his eyes sweeping over her. “Just right for this evening.”

  Stacie had chosen to wear a dress—it wasn’t new, but it was one that she felt good in and judging by the appreciation in Cam’s expression, the effect was pleasing to him. “Thank you.” She stood on tiptoe to touch a brief kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You look pretty tasty yourself.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “Do that again, honey, and we won’t be going anywhere.
Where’s your bag?”

  While Cam collected it from the bedroom, Stacie checked around the apartment one more time, and then she was leading the way down the stairs, out to where Cam’s car was parked. He opened the door for her, saw her safely into the vehicle, and stowed her bag in the boot. Moments later, they were on their way.

  Their destination was a riverfront development—a stunning example of modern architecture, and Stacie didn’t want to think about how much it cost to live there. To do that would just emphasise the yawning financial chasm between them.

  “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

  “Drinks, dinner…getting to know one another a little better,” Cam replied easily, switching off the engine. “Thanks for having dinner with me tonight.”

  What a strange thing to say. And what woman wouldn’t want to have dinner with him? Stacie felt a surge of that nervous excitement again. “It’s my pleasure—thank you for asking me.”

  “And you’re okay with staying the night?”

  She took a deep breath. “I’m okay,” she said simply. “I want to be with you tonight. We’ve waited long enough.”

  Cam’s penthouse apartment was everything that hers was not—modern, minimalist, expensively sophisticated. A small bathroom and three bedrooms off the entrance corridor—he showed her two of them, but not the master—and then the corridor opened up into a huge living space, with a kitchen area, a dining area and a seating area. Floor-to-ceiling glass stood between them and a private terrace with views of the river and some well-known landmarks.

  “Which you could see properly if it wasn’t dark,” Cam added, joining her to look out across the lights of the city and their twinkling reflections in the river. She felt his hands on her shoulders as he took up position behind her. “I’ve put your bag in the bedroom. Now, what would you like to drink?”

  Stacie couldn’t help herself. She brushed her cheek against his hand, and was rewarded with a fingertip that caressed her skin in return. “Dry white wine, please, if you have it.”

  “Good choice,” he approved, “I have a particularly good Chenin Blanc in at the moment—I think you’ll like it.”

  She did. She also liked sitting beside Cam, sipping her drink and talking about a thousand different subjects. When she complimented him on his beautiful home, the smile he gave her held a hint of something that in anyone else might have been construed as sadness, an emotion she found difficult to connect with the image Cam projected so easily.

  “It’s a place to stay when I’m in town, honey, that’s all. Hardly a home.”

  She could be wrong, but it sounded to her like a real home was the one thing he wanted above all else…as if it were something he’d never had. It made her wonder about his past, all the things that had made him the man he was today.

  Their conversation continued around other subjects, some personal, some not. She found out that Cam’s business was security—he didn’t go into too much detail, but Stacie had a feeling that it had nothing to do with men in dodgy uniforms looking out for shoplifters at the local supermarket. It was a business he and Alex had originally started together, but after a couple of years he’d bought Alex out, for reasons Cam didn’t go into. Now, though, he was now looking to bring the other man back into the organisation as a full partner again.

  She also discovered that they weren’t going out for dinner, because Cam was cooking for them.

  “Nothing complicated,” he said, with a somewhat more relaxed smile this time, “but I can guarantee it will taste good.”

  Completely stunned, all Stacie could do was stare at him. Including this time, she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of occasions a man had cooked for her and still be able to enumerate the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse on the remainder. A restaurant couldn’t be more exclusive than that. “What are we having?”

  “Pâté to start, then chicken with dauphinoise potatoes and wilted spinach, and for you, mojito cheesecake for dessert.”

  Cam refused all offers of help in the high-tech kitchen, so all Stacie could do was sit at the breakfast bar and drink her fill of the way he moved around the space as he prepared their meal. There was a masculine, animal grace about him that spoke to her primal female core and conjured up deliciously decadent images of how he would move in the bedroom. The delicious aroma of the food wasn’t the only thing that had her salivating.

  The meal tasted as good as it had sounded, but when it came to the final course, Cam escorted Stacie from the dining table to the seating area that gave them a fantastic view of the river and the city beyond. He also carried a small spoon and the glass that held the delicious-looking dessert, both of which he put down on the low table.

  “Before you sit down, beautiful,” he said, “I want you to do one thing for me.”

  “Of course.”

  She looked at him—and saw his expression change, a shift so subtle that it could easily have been missed. The easy-going, charming dinner companion was gone, and in his place there was a man who looked as if he were in control of the world. Stacie’s mouth went dry, and she knew…this was Cam as a Dom, a man who would not be disobeyed. Her body went on vibrating high alert.

  “Take your panties off and give them to me.”

  She hesitated only a moment—barefoot since she’d sat down with that first glass of wine, it was easy to do as he commanded. He slipped the scrap of silk into his trouser pocket, after removing something else that he kept hidden in his hand, and then he sat down.

  “I want you here, on my lap, honey.”

  Why on earth did he have to ask that of her? Stacie wasn’t skinny—the bathroom scales told her that every week, with monotonous regularity.

  “Stacie, when I give you an instruction, I expect you to obey me without question or hesitation.”

  “But—”

  “Now, Stacie.”

  She tried to perch so that she took most of her own weight, but Cam had other ideas. He moved her into the exact position he wanted her, so that her feet weren’t even touching the floor, and then he revealed the item he’d had stashed in his pocket—a black silk scarf. It made an excellent blindfold.

  “We’ll discuss limits soon—this evening maybe, tomorrow at the latest. What we’re about to do now requires only one thing, but without it we can’t even start. Trust is important in all relationships, beautiful, but in a relationship between a Dominant and a submissive, trust overrides everything.”

  She felt his fingers checking the fabric; she could only presume to ensure that she could see nothing.

  “This will be your first easy step towards trusting me. I’m going to feed you your dessert. You will trust me to pay attention to your needs. You will trust me not to give you too much at once. You will trust me not to embarrass you by getting it all over your face, or spilling it all over your dress. You will trust me to keep you safe, not let you fall, and to give you an entirely pleasurable experience. And since we haven’t discussed safewords yet, you will trust me to stop if you say the word stop. Do you understand, Stacie?”

  “I understand, Cam.”

  She felt him move—she presumed to reach for the dessert glass, which he then placed in her hands—and then he was telling her to open her mouth. Stacie knew the spoon was small—the first taste was half the size of the spoon, and he was telling her to eat it slowly, to savour every nuance of its minty, zesty deliciousness, to focus on what her senses other than sight were telling her. Between spoonfuls he kissed her, making love to her with random delicate touches of his mouth, while the movement of his other hand over her body was slowly stripping her bare mentally, until all she wanted to do was curl up in his arms and give to him whatever he desired from her.

  Inside and out, Stacie was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met and Cam knew, as he fed her the last morsel of cheesecake, that she was going to play a seriously important role in his life. No, he realised, not going to—she already was playing a seriously important role in his life. He wan
ted to know everything about her—her likes, her hopes, her fears…her loves.

  He set the glass and spoon to one side. Even though he’d not yet removed the blindfold, she nestled in his arms, quiet and restful, waiting for him to make the next move. Her serenity calmed him in a way he’d not experienced with any other sub. No fidgeting, no impatience—she seemed to be content just to be what he needed at that moment.

  He stroked her thigh, his hand over the material of her dress intended to accustom her to his touch. He was a leg man, no mistake, and she had legs that went on forever, firm and toned, but not overly so. He’d explored the lush curves of her bottom several times over the last few days, always over her clothes, never in any way that might embarrass her. It was time to take her to the next level. One more stroke down to her knee, and then…

  He heard Stacie’s sharp intake of breath when the upward sweep of his hand remained in contact with her skin, up her thigh to her hip, where his fingers pressed gently but firmly into the soft, silky curve. She shivered against him, but she didn’t move away, didn’t even try to.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered. “Will you open your legs for me, honey?”

  She wriggled—her leg brushed against his cock, which was already straining against the fabric of his trousers, reminding him unnecessarily how much he wanted her, but her thighs parted for him.

  “How do you feel, Stacie? Comfortable?” Her mouth was curved in a tranquil smile and she nodded, her head resting close to his. Her response was good, as far as it went.

  “Talk to me, beautiful. I need to hear you say it, remember.” As he would need to hear her communicate verbally in a scene. He reined in his imagination before it could go charging off to a place of silk ropes and other restraints, and toys that would bring her to the brink of orgasm time and time again, before finally he allowed her to come apart for him.