Winter's Fire (Club Aegis Book 5)

by Christie Adams

  And on top of all that there was her reaction to the club itself, the lifestyle it represented, and the part she wanted it to play in her future.

  “Are you ready to talk about what’s put such a serious look on your face?”

  That voice. The man who owned it shouldn’t have been there, not yet. He was supposed to be busy with Pixie, not standing in front of her with his arms folded, one of three men staring at her and clearly expecting an explanation.

  All she could do was stare at him open-mouthed.

  “Master Logan, since that may be something Lucy would prefer to discuss with you in private, I suggest that Tristan and I make ourselves scarce. Thank you for the demonstration—it was most enjoyable, and if you ever consider offering a class, I’d be more than happy to sign up.”

  “My pleasure, Master Lee. I’m not planning to hold any classes for now, but who knows? Thank you for taking care of Lucy for me—I trust her manners were better than this?”

  “She was delightful company. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  Master and sub departed, leaving Lucy alone with Logan. He slid into the booth beside her. “So?”

  “Shouldn’t you be taking care of Pixie? Aftercare, I mean.”

  A dark eyebrow lifted. “That’s what this is about?”

  “What?”

  “The fact that you were a million miles away when I came back, and I had to ask the question twice before you even acknowledged I was there. Why does that concern you so much?”

  “It doesn’t. I mean, I thought you wouldn’t be back yet. Pixie should have aftercare, shouldn’t she?”

  “One of the other Tops stepped in. The duty manager knows her job, she had that organised as well.”

  “Oh.” A surge of happiness lit her up inside. Only a hint of guilt kept her from showing it.

  “I think we’d better continue this conversation somewhere a little more private.”

  “A little more private” meant his apartment, and to prolong the torture even further, Logan insisted that she take the bathroom and shower first. Too tired to care, she changed into her favourite PJs, and barely had time to make herself comfortable on the sofa before Logan joined her and kicked off the conversation.

  “So what was all the introspection about at the club? Did you have a problem with the scene with Pixie?”

  Though his voice was gentle, domination rolled off Logan in waves. The black jeans and t-shirt he’d changed into added to the impression, as did the ragged scar on his left arm. Only a fool would mess with this man.

  “No, not really. I understand why you didn’t want me to… take part. I just… I’d like to try it sometime. That is, if you…”

  “Maybe—when you’re ready. So if it wasn't really about Pixie, what was it about?”

  “I spent a lot of time people-watching—when you were talking to Sean, and while I was with Master Lee and Tris.”

  “And?”

  Trust. Honesty. Communication. “I thought about things you told me about the people, and the conversation I had with the two of them. What it was like at the club. How I feel about it—not just the club but the whole lifestyle.”

  “And how is that?”

  His voice was steady, his tone neutral, neither giving any indication of what was going through his mind. At least he was prepared to hear her out before giving her the benefit of his thoughts. She wished she had a cup of tea to keep her hands occupied and give her an excuse to divert her attention away from him.

  “That it’s not for everyone, but that’s fairly obvious. Until a few days ago, I never even gave it much of a thought, beyond that book that’s been in the news over the last couple of years. I only intended to learn enough about it for the mission, but tonight—today as a whole, come to think of it—that changed.”

  “In what way?”

  “It became real—three-dimensional. It became about real people, who hold down regular jobs, but who also shop at places like Giorgio’s, and go to clubs like Aegis, and probably organise babysitters so they can do it. It’s more than just a bit of private fun in your apartment.”

  “We’re not perverted monsters, then?”

  “I never thought that!” Driven by impulse, Lucy scooted down the sofa to Logan, determined to put the horrifying idea right out of his head, only to be stunned into silence when he caught her and pulled her onto his lap. Senses on high alert, she searched his face for some clue as to his intention.

  “Is that all? I want the truth, Lucy.”

  The words spoke directly to her soul—their underlying command not to leave anything out did not escape her. She lifted her hand but stopped short of her target, uncertain as to whether he’d welcome the intimacy of her palm against his cheek. Instead she laid it on his chest, as if to absorb his strength.

  “Master Lee asked me if I’d thought about joining Aegis, and I didn’t say no.”

  “Why not? You can tell me.”

  “Because… Because…”

  “Be brave. It’s only words, Lucy, they can’t hurt you. Trust me.”

  He said it as if it mattered to him. As if she mattered to him. She dragged in a huge breath and held it, teetering on a knife edge, where one false move could plunge her into unimaginable humiliation. And if humiliation was in her immediate future, she couldn’t look at him while he delivered it.

  “Because I felt like I belonged there. Because it felt right to be there, with you, like that. Because it felt right to be with you.”

  Lucy fell silent. Had she just made a monumental mistake? Was everything going to come crashing down around her head?

  “I’m going to burn in hell for this.”

  He framed her face with his hands. His mouth crashed into hers and he kissed her as if his life depended on it.

  Chapter 13

  “So what’s our plan of action?”

  Lucy sipped her champagne and leaned against the guardrail that ran around the stern of this particular deck of the luxury yacht. Their visit to Aegis, just three days earlier, seemed a million miles and a lifetime away.

  So did the nights she’d spent in Logan’s bed.

  The yacht was transporting her, Logan, and more than two dozen other guests on the final leg of their journey to Nenufar. And as he’d been for every moment since they arrived home from the club, Logan was right by her side. He’d even accompanied her to her spa appointment.

  Never in a million years would she have guessed that one day, she’d be totally naked in front of a beautician, having every unwanted hair waxed from her body, while a gorgeous specimen of manhood allowed her to squeeze the blood from his fingers with every excruciating, follicle-torturing peel.

  She’d been totally naked apart from the collar that marked her out as a submissive. As he’d fastened it around her neck, Logan had explained that the spa was owned by people in the lifestyle, and the Annexe, where her wholesale defuzzing was due to take place, was used exclusively by customers who were seriously into kink.

  Though she’d longed to try it, Lucy had never had the nerve to book an appointment for a full wax of her genital area. Doing it for the mission had freed her of her inhibitions, and in one fell swoop deepened her understanding of the freedom to be found in being the submissive half of a D/s relationship.

  For Lucy, that session had been a revelation, a turning point in her relationship with the man who, in a dizzyingly short space of time, had ceased to be an irritating colleague and become a man with whom she could fall in love.

  Glass of champagne in hand, he looked completely at home in their luxurious, if slightly unstable, surroundings. Little wonder—she didn’t suppose a Royal Marine who tossed his cookies at sea would get very far. The ribbing from his comrades would be both merciless and endless.

  “For you, there is no action. You’re here to act as cover for me, and that’s all.” Logan took a healthy swig from his glass, grimaced, and gave the straw-coloured bubbles an eloquent glare of distaste.

  “Don’t look
like that. Did you see the label on the bottle when the steward was filling the glasses? This is classy stuff.” Lucy had recognised the decorative bottles on sight.

  “There isn’t generally that much call for fancy champagne in the mess.”

  She could imagine. Lucy sighed, and turned her gaze in the direction from which they’d come. Florida was somewhere out there, the destination for their flight from Heathrow. They’d travelled business class, in keeping with their cover as guests at an exclusive resort where every sensual pleasure imaginable was available—provided you had the money to pay for it.

  Or, as in their case, looked as if you did. Lucy fingered her necklace. Logan had presented it to her the day after their visit to Aegis, back in what she was rapidly coming to think of as “real life”. It was supposed to be her day collar, all part of the image for the adored submissive of a successful broker in the City. Lucy doubted there were many brokers whose hands were roughened by work the way Logan’s were.

  The yacht was their transport for the third and last segment of their journey from London. The transatlantic flight had been followed by a shorter one to the island where they’d picked up this magnificent vessel. Before weighing anchor, they’d all attended a safety briefing, which had included facts and figures about the trip, much of which had gone over the top of her head. Unlike Logan, she wasn’t a natural sailor, so to her, it seemed as if they’d been at sea for days.

  “Do you have any idea how much longer it’ll be before we arrive?”

  Logan cast his glance forward—not that there was anything to see, just blue water and darkening sky, dotted with the brightest stars just starting to emerge. “If the weather doesn’t close in and we carry on at this rate of progress, I’d say we have another two or three hours.”

  “I’ll be glad when we do get there.”

  Logan lifted his hand to loop a strand of hair, escaped from her ponytail, around her ear. “Maybe I can do something to take your mind off it. Would you like to go back to the cabin?”

  Far from being the poky little berth of her imagination, their accommodation aboard this floating sex palace could have doubled for a suite in one of the swankiest hotels in the world. The centrepiece—and what a centrepiece—was a bed that could be measured by the acre.

  A couple of hours… that bed… Logan Simmonds. Equal measures of time, place and man in a cocktail of pure pleasure, the thought alone more intoxicating than anything to be found behind a bar. Lucy dropped her gaze for a moment, then made eye contact with her Dom. “Could we, Sir? Please?”

  “We’ve had too much of this for any serious play.” He clinked his champagne flute against hers.

  As had most of the passengers. Overindulgence was probably the norm on this short cruise, which probably explained why the selection of toys provided in each suite was relatively uncomplicated and harmless.

  “I know, Sir, but I’m sure there are other ways we can pass the time.”

  Several cabins already had a “Do Not Disturb” tag hanging from the door handle. It appeared that the soundproofing might not be quite as effective as they’d been told, if the muted groans and cries of pleasure, and assorted other sounds were any indication.

  When Logan transferred the tag to the outside of their door, Lucy’s heart rate shifted up a gear, banishing any feeling of fatigue from travelling for hours on end. She kicked off her heels and stood with her back to the door and Logan, hands clasped, fingers twisting nervously.

  “Lisa.”

  Undercover time. “Yes, Sir?”

  His palms burned her shoulders, bare apart from the narrow straps of her sundress—the only garment she wore. Her Dom had taken her knickers before they boarded this floating shrine to decadence. Lips caressed the side of her neck, then his hands moved, and Logan was releasing her hair, combing it with his fingers to free it from its bonds.

  “Remove your dress for me, please.”

  There he went again, with that voice that made heat thicken and pool deep inside her. The formality of it, the order concealed within the polite request, all of it combined to send a shockwave of desire and longing through Lucy. Bereft of their only covering, her nipples beaded in the cool, air-conditioned atmosphere, tightening almost painfully at the feather-like drag of a fingertip down her spine. She arched beneath his touch.

  “I love having you naked for me, Lisa.” His low voice rumbled over her skin. “It means you’re mine, and I know you’re wet and ready for me to take you.”

  Hot palms caressed her hips with firm strokes. Fingers dug in, dragging her back against a hard body—and even harder cock. And where he was all hard, she was soft and needy, hungry for that hardness to fill her softness. The rigid evidence prodded her backside through the fine fabric of the designer slacks that Lucan Simpson favoured. Logan Simmonds hated them, and Lucy wondered, with more than a little impatience, how long it would take for them to come off.

  For now, though, with Logan’s hands exploring her body and the heat of him at her back, Lucy was content to bask in the moment. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against Logan. The scent of him filled her with sensual hunger and the desire to surrender to whatever he wanted from her. Knowing he’d push her limits, but always keep her safe.

  Always.

  “Spread your legs for me, babe.”

  “Babe” was Lucan’s pet name for Lisa. Logan had come up with it to help Lucy to separate herself from her false identity. How she longed to hear “princess” again.

  Logan’s fingers glided between her folds. He touched her clit, and arousal quaked through her body. Only the muscular arm wrapped around her waist held her upright. The soft cotton of his shirt was a comforting whisper between them. He was all she could think of, all she craved. Her toes curled into the luxurious carpet. She gave a soft moan of pleasure bordering on agony.

  “Make all the noise you want, Lisa.” The words were rough, honeyed sex whispered in her ear. “Fuck the soundproofing. Before we get to Nenufar, I’m going to make you scream so loud, everyone on board will hear you come.”

  ~~*~~

  Soft music played, courtesy of the cabin’s state-of-the-art sound system. Logan was barely aware of it. The music, their surroundings, everything receded except the beautiful submissive who stood before him. In this hedonistic no man’s land between real life and the resort where pretence was the only option, there was no need to hide his growing desire for this woman.

  Guilty secrets still poisoned his soul. He’d never been one for bothering the Almighty too much, but he prayed their first day on the island would give him the answers he needed to save him from telling Lucy the truth. Then he could use their time in the sun-drenched paradise to persuade this incredible woman to fall in love with him.

  This fucking mission had been one complication after another. Go on holiday, ask a few questions about a missing couple. By the way, you’re taking the boss’ nit-picking secretary, who gets off on making your life difficult, to bolster your cover, and you have to train her to act like a submissive before you go.

  Oh, and just for good measure—you’re going to end up falling in fucking love with her.

  The irony didn’t escape him. Lucy had unknowingly restored his heart, only for him to give it back to her a thousand times over.

  Would she accept it, and somewhere along the way, could he win hers?

  “Feet shoulder width apart, and clasp your hands behind your back.”

  A sub’s obedience always filled him with a unique kind of energy, but with Lucy it was… more. Insatiable lust pulsed through his body. More potent than any drug, she’d bound him to her in a way he could never explain. When he’d called her “princess” to annoy her, he’d had no idea she’d become his princess for real.

  Warm and soft and perfect. He could feast on her for hours. She awakened the most primitive part of him, the part that wanted to claim her as his, the part that would rip the heart out of any other male who came sniffing around her, and protect her
unto death.

  The sharp gasp she gave when he slipped a finger inside her zeroed in on his groin—she was already wet, and when he drew his fingertip across the hard bud of her clitoris, her whole body jerked in response.

  “What do you want, babe? Tell me.”

  “You, Sir.” She looked at him with such naked, almost innocent need he almost fell to his knees at her feet. “Just you.”

  His self-control eroding by the second, Logan swept her up in his arms and carried her to the massive bed. The disintegration accelerated under the onslaught of the hunger in her gaze as she watched him undress.

  “Hold onto the bars.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the headboard, designed for convenience when it came to bondage games. “Don’t let go until I say.”

  His cock was primed for action, but Lucy hadn’t come yet. Once he was balls-deep inside her, he’d be on a hair-trigger, and there was no way he’d take his own pleasure before he’d given her hers, with his mouth on her and his fingers inside her.

  He yanked his shirt off over his head, vaguely aware of a couple of airborne buttons pinging against the walls and floor. Like the slacks, the tailored garment was another annoying symbol of the corporate dipshit he was having to play. At least in here, he could pretend he was the Master she deserved.

  Christ, she was gorgeous, lying there so perfectly still. He leaned over her for a kiss. She parted her lips for him and her tongue met his, eager for their mutual pleasure. The way she was looking at him, with trust and a slow-smouldering desire… the connection that bound them together, a shining thread wending its way around his heart… if only he’d been worthy of that heaven.

  As he looked at her, as he drowned in her loveliness, Logan saw more than the most incredible submissive he’d ever enjoyed—he saw a life full of the things he’d once thought could be his, before his failings as a man and a Dom had robbed an innocent of her life.

  The dream shimmered before him, but instead of dissolving into mist, as it usually did, it became clearer, more solid, forming a challenge he’d assumed for so long he’d fail.