H.E.A.T. Book Bundle (H.E.A.T. Books 1-3)

by Nicola Claire

  “I gather the invitation was accepted?” He’s fishing. He isn’t sure if she’s agreed to be my sub or not.

  “I thought she might have been more experienced than that, you should have warned me,” I offer.

  “She wasn’t suitable? I got the impression she’d be perfect for you. It’s been too long since you’ve had a regular pet.”

  “No, she was lovely,” I counter. “But you know my requirements. Did you even warn the girl?”

  “She seemed happy for a trial. I thought you could iron out the details together.”

  “Jason,” I say in warning.

  “No, Ethan. It’s time.”

  “It’s never been time. And it never will be. Especially if you set me up like this.”

  “It’s for your own good,” he presses, the words carefully spoken.

  I turn my chair until I’m staring out the window at the clouds as they scuttle across the sky. Jason has never done anything like this before. He’s always approved of how I handle my pets. He’s never passed judgement or interfered. Often he refers someone to me. I’d thought Haydee had been vetted as had those prior to her.

  “Are you seeing her again?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure now.”

  “But you’ve arranged for her to return?” he pushes. “Did she at least take the chain, Ethan?”

  I sigh. He won’t have heard it. It is merely a bodily function that helps to calm. It’s not for effect.

  “She took the chain,” I reply, not mentioning the card she left in place of the house key. That would confirm Jason has made a mistake. And even though I am angry with the outcome, I can’t seem to make myself confirm my disquiet with those words.

  “Well, then. It seems you’ve got off to a promising start,” he remarks. “So, no harm, no foul.”

  Oh, there’s harm been done. There is definitely a foul. And he knows it. But for now I hold my tongue.

  “I have to go,” I say, getting ready to end this.

  “She could be good for you, Ethan,” he has to add. As if I am incapable of finding my own happiness.

  “And you’re so sure of this?”

  “I know you,” he says. “I know you’ve not been happy with your usual pursuits. It’s time for a change.”

  This is worrisome news. How many others in our world have picked up the clues to my unease? I had thought I had hidden it well. From everyone. Including me.

  A sense of burgeoning agitation seeps into my frame. I shift in my seat. I flex my fingers. Stretch my neck.

  “Will you stop by the club on the way home?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say, because not to go now is impossible. Jason thinks he can manipulate everyone. Place them where he needs them on his perpetually evolving chessboard. He is the King, I am a knight. And I fear he’s just set me up with his Queen.

  There is something about Haydee that has caught my friend’s eye. If David Gordon’s initial reaction is anything to go by, she’s caught more than just Jason’s attention too. Gordon is not one for abstinence of any degree. But Jason thrives on it. I am not concerned about his intimate interest in Haydee, more concerned about his ulterior motives to this partnership he has devised.

  Jason is planning something, and playing directly into his hands would give him too much power. For now, I must show only mild interest, while I work out what it is he is after.

  As for Gordon. He needs to know Haydee was not all she had appeared to be.

  It wouldn’t hurt to discover if any others had spotted her at Sweet Hell, as well. So a visit on the way home is now essential.

  I end the call and move to my door, peering around the edge at my secretary.

  “That’ll be all for today, Christine,” I say, making her jump an inch off her seat.

  “Y…yes, sir,” she stammers, flushing delightfully when she notices my attention. I make her nervous. I make many people nervous. But Christine’s is sexually motivated. She’s attracted to me, and trying to hide it. It would be so easy to help her test her limits. To stretch her boundaries and give her pleasure through strict controls.

  At any other time, I would be tempted. Even if she is my secretary. But the desire to train a new pet is all but gone. Haydee had performed brilliantly. Educated in our way of life or not, she had been a natural.

  And it is that which those like me have already seen.

  The urge to protect her rises. It is not unfamiliar. At my most basic, my need to protect is overwhelming. My need to protect Haydee from the Irreverent Inferno members is now paramount in my mind. The fact that Jason is already more than aware of her sits uneasily. But David Gordon’s interest just compounds my desire.

  I shut my office door and move to my en-suite. Being Superintendent of South Auckland Police has its advantages. My secretary for one. And my own personal bathroom for another.

  I keep a dinner suit and shirt here at all times, should the need to take a detour on the way home arise. It wouldn’t take long to drive to Redoubt Road, where my house sits, but once I cross that threshold I know I will have difficulty leaving again. All I really want is to see Haydee. But needs must.

  I make my way to my car in the rear parking lot, passing a few officers I know by name and some I just know by look alone. None comment on my attire. I often attend functions after hours, seeing me in a dinner suit is not uncommon. The drive to the city centre takes more than an hour. Rush hour is officially over, but tell that to the southern motorway. It gives me time to contemplate my next move.

  It is obvious to me that the complicated and twisted pathways of the lifestyle I lead is as much an attraction as the immediate rewards. But all I seem to be able to think about at the moment are those rewards. I force myself to address the reason why I am going out of my way to show my face in a place I have quickly become dissatisfied with. How this will play out I don’t yet know. But still I pull my vehicle around the rear of the Sweet Hell building on Karangahape Road, and park it in the members only carpark by the Irreverent Inferno part of the business itself.

  A Lexus, a Jaguar and Rolls Royce make up the vehicles already in attendance. It’s early for Sweet Hell, but that doesn’t stop the post work swing-by for the most debauched amongst us.

  I recognise David Gordon’s Lexus. The other two cars belong to the owners themselves. There will be more inside the venue than is represented here. Only those who are Irreverent Inferno members have access to this carpark. But Sweet Hell boasts a much larger clientele than just that.

  I lock the vehicle and cross to the rear door. Privacy is essential, and walking around to the front entrance would be ill advised. The door opens before I reach it, a security guard acknowledges me with a stiff nod of his head and indicates the book where I must sign in. It is housed in a locked box that only Inferno members know the combination to.

  I enter the code and then sign my name. I don’t look back at the guard as the box closes and locks behind me, and I head through the internal doors towards Sweet Hell. There is no scheduled Irreverent Inferno scene set for tonight, so the chamber in which those are carried out in would be abandoned.

  Not so with Sweet Hell.

  The sound of low, sultry music hits me first, followed swiftly by the rattle of die and the sound of a croupier calling “Last bets!” Smoke fills the room, making for a heady combination of tobacco and rich spices. Someone is smoking a cigar over by the bar, but the scent I identify is not from the Cuban. Ice clinks in glasses, low murmurs fill up the empty spaces, the odd delicate laugh sounding out as a light accompaniment to the more bass sound of the gentlemen in attendance.

  One sweep of my gaze and I know there is sixteen people in the room. Including two guards. Not a large turn out, but enough to send a message to Jason and anyone else who happens to care.

  I move towards my favourite table, taking a seat beside David Gordon and someone I have not yet met. To David’s side sits one of only three females in the entire room. Their inferior numbers an essential part of Sweet H
ell’s micro-balance. Too many, and the desire to pursue would be snuffed out. Too little and the competition would be performed by only a select few amongst us.

  I’ve never had to fight too hard for my conquests. Perhaps that has been what has made everything seem dull of late.

  Yet Haydee does not seem dull. Despite her easy acquiescence. There is something mesmerising about her self-confidence. About her graceful acceptance of surrender. About the way she moves. The way she watches. Even with her head tipped down and her eyes hidden behind long lashes, Haydee is aware. There is nothing complacent about her.

  Compliant. Submissive. Certainly she is all of those. But she is also so much more and I realise I am eager to find out what. What makes her tick? What takes her interest? What do I have to do to challenge her? Surprise her?

  Because she has already surprised me. My reaction to her notwithstanding.

  “Keen,” David Gordon says in greeting. “Good to see you, old man.”

  I nod my head and place a bet on the table, all the while taking in the scene Gordon has set. Samantha hangs off his left arm, her gaze on me and not her chosen partner. It is the first time I have seen her show interest in the man. He’s her boss, out in the real world. She’d always said she wouldn’t go there.

  But David can be persuasive. His ability to charm the pants of anything that moves is renown in our circles.

  Samantha offers me a coy smile, that I know is false in every single way. There is nothing shy about this woman. She steals pleasure as easily as she breathes. And her increasing interest in me right now offers the perfect solution on every level.

  I win my hand, and play the next without speaking. I don’t look back at Samantha, knowing her eyes are still on me. She may have chosen her conquest for the night, but she is still keeping her options open. Gordon, for his part, appears oblivious to her wondering gaze. He runs a hand up the back of her dress, baring her garter belt for all to see. No one looks twice. It is not an unusual occurrence at Sweet Hell to be on display such as this woman is now.

  And she thrives on it. Her lips parted in a soft exhale of desire. Her eyes darkening when they meet mine. It might be Gordon’s hand under her clothes, against her skin, but it’s me she’s picturing doing it.

  Three more rounds and Gordon is ready to leave.

  He looks up at Samantha as she perches on the edge of his seat, and offers her a calculating smile.

  It is time to play my final hand.

  “It’s been a while, Samantha,” I say, giving her the opening she’s been waiting for.

  “I’ve been here all along, Ethan,” she offers.

  “I must have missed you.”

  “You weren’t looking,” she counters, hitting too close to the truth for my current plans.

  “I’m looking now,” I say and Gordon turns an incredulous arched brow towards me.

  “I heard you had your hands full already, Keen,” he barks, garnering the attention of several people at nearby tables.

  “I can handle more than one pet at a time.”

  Samantha preens. I have never offered her the position. My words just now seal the deal.

  She stands up from her semi-seated place at Gordon’s side and walks towards my seat.

  I place the hand I was about to play down on the table and turn my body slightly toward her.

  “One for old time’s sake?” she says, seductively.

  I feel nothing, and that’s the moment I realise Jason was correct.

  But if I have any chance of downplaying Haydee’s significance, to both Jason and David Gordon sitting at my side right now, then I have to do this. Appearances are essential, even if the outcome ends up being entirely something else.

  Samantha’s hand comes out and she runs long fingers through my hair, her left leg moving to between my knees, as she positions herself over my right thigh. I reach up and wrap my hand around the nape of her neck. I know my face will be impassive. My emotions closed off. My body, in contrast, will look relaxed and inviting.

  I grip her hair and pull her down. But not to sit on my thigh. Not to bring her face in line with mine for a possessive kiss. I force her to her knees and look down at her with only mild interest. She is panting, flushed, aroused and ready for anything I decree.

  “Well, I can see where this is going,” Gordon says in what has to be a huff from beside us.

  Neither of us look towards him when he speaks. In this moment Samantha is mine. In this moment she is all I should be interested in. Her care, her surrender, her pleasure should be paramount on my mind. Yet all I can think is how far do I need to take this? How much do I need to show the men in this room to make them believe?

  “You could at least share, Keen,” he continues, in what appears a pleasant tone of voice. He’ll be pissed off. But he’s hiding it well. Control is our master. David Gordon is as subject to it as I. “If not this pet, then the other.”

  Anger rushes through me. So swift and consuming. It takes a moment for me to realise I’ve stopped breathing. My reaction is out of place and very not wanted. I know nothing about Haydee. Except that she has taken my chain.

  I’ve shared pets in the past, but not always. It is not a given. But I already know, Haydee will not be one I can give up so carelessly. Even if that is what she needs from me.

  I reach down and grasp Samantha’s hand, then bring it to my crotch. I’m not even remotely erect. She’ll be confused when she realises I’m not turned on yet. But stimulation can be achieved most perfunctorily. My job is to look after her needs. Hers is to get me ready to service them.

  She smiles, ignoring the obvious, accepting the challenge, and begins to palm me through my trousers.

  “Not interested in sharing?” Gordon asks, watching on with clear enjoyment as Samantha succeeds in her skilled efforts.

  “I never share what I haven’t fully tested myself,” I offer.

  “And you’ve tested Samantha?” Gordon counters.

  I smile, my eyes still on the woman between my knees. “Frequently,” I say.

  “And this new one? When shall we expect her to be set free?”

  “I’ll let you know,” I say absently, pulling Samantha up by her hand and leading her towards the private back rooms.

  The minute the door closes at our backs, she’s on her knees, undoing my belt and pulling the zip down on my trousers. Her hand slips inside and grips my cock; it’s still at half mast, but that doesn’t deter her.

  I reach down and grip her hair tightly, pulling her face away from my crotch before she makes contact with her lips. I’ve been here before with this woman. I’ve done more than any man could imagine to her body. She thrives on sexual exhibitionism, something I have toyed with, but not mastered. And yet, she has been more than happy to seek her pleasure behind closed doors with me as well.

  “Ethan?” she queries.

  “Not a word,” I whisper.

  She smiles, thinking it’s all part of the game.

  “I’m surprised to see you with Gordon,” I say. She offers a shrug of her delicate shoulder, pulling purposefully against my hold. It has to hurt. “I’m disappointed,” I say, gripping tighter.

  She lets out a mewl of distress, but ruins the effect by moaning immediately afterwards.

  “Do we need to have another talk?”

  Chapter Three

  “Salutem.”

  I have a responsibility. Anyone who chooses my lifestyle does. We take it seriously. Without that trust, without that commitment, we would fail and word would get out. Our reputations are important. I wonder, as I lead the woman before me across the room to the large four poster bed, if Haydee had heard of me beforehand. Is that why she agreed to a trial invitation when Jason suggested it? Had she heard of my reputation and gone from there?

  That is the only reason why I go through with what I’m doing. Because I am a man of my word. And those who seek my company are aware of it.

  Samantha is nothing more than a pawn in our games toni
ght. But that does not mean she mustn’t be taken care of.

  I leave her standing by the dominant feature in the room and move to pull out a chair, that sits innocuously in the corner by a faux fireplace, and shift it to the centre of the room. The scrape of its feet on the wooden floor is purposeful. I position it so it faces the end of the large bed, then unbutton my jacket slowly, slipping it off my shoulders and draping it over the partner chair in the corner. I walk back to the centre of the room and my waiting throne leisurely, and then take a seat. Making myself comfortable, I lean back, legs parted, hands resting on my thighs.

  She is already trembling with anticipation. If I checked, I’d find her sopping wet.

  “You promised you wouldn’t accept Gordon’s offers,” I say, pulling out a cigar and clipping the end nonchalantly.

  Samantha lowers her head demurely - an act and nothing else - her body shuddering, her hips rolling, she knows what comes next and she’s already envisaging her part in it.

  I light the Cohiba and let the rich flavour coat my tongue, on the exhale I nod towards her dress. Nothing needs to be said, the implied is in the setting, in the anticipation hanging on the air. Samantha does well with an audience. Tonight her audience will be just one, but that does not mean she won’t get what she needs.

  The desire to move this along swiftly has me inhaling another mouthful of smoke; I don’t even savour the taste before I exhale. I purposely lower the cigar and watch as Samantha performs her striptease. She’s in the zone now, fully participating. Excitement pebbles her nipples, her chest rising and falling with fluttering breaths.

  She stands before me in nothing but her high heels, stockings and white lace garters; the brightness of the garter contrasts with her even tan. Her body is honed to perfection, curved where it needs to be curved, flat where it needs to be flat. I lift up my cigar and blow on the tip; the dismissal would be like a sharp slap.

  “He is your boss, Samantha,” I say, taking another mouthful of smoke between my lips. I make sure to savour the flavour before I look back up at her again.