Rafe's Mate

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Rafe's Mate Page 5

by Rianne Thaxton


  She grinned. She didn’t expose as much as the other waitresses. Of course they were also all submissives and she wasn’t.

  That was another thing she’d become used to as well. Lots of nudity and sex and…

  Well, she would just say other things in a lifestyle she hadn’t thought she’d ever be privy to.

  She slipped on the black bra that comprised the top of her outfit and fastened the hooks before grabbing the pleated, black miniskirt and pulling it up her legs and around her waist. That’s why she was extremely lucky to have gotten the job at all. The Covenant was one of the most exclusive BDSM clubs there was. So exclusive in fact, unless you were thoroughly vetted and more often than not in the lifestyle, you weren’t employed there.

  “Thank you, Angie,” she murmured as she slipped on the yellow wristband telling the members she wasn’t allowed to play. Of all the waitresses at The Covenant, she was the only one who wasn’t a submissive.

  She’d known Angie Sawyer for a few years through local art circles, and she would run into her occasionally at various gallery openings and showings. But they had always been more of just acquaintances. So, she honestly had no idea why she’d ended up opening up to the other woman when Angie had found Aubrey crying in the bathroom at a gallery in Tampa after receiving an email on her phone from yet another creditor.

  But by the time Aubrey had managed to pull herself together, Angie had secured her this temporary job. She supposed being the wife of the “big boss” was a good thing. Although it might have also had to do with the promises of how she’d thank her husband later—some of which still had Aubrey blushing.

  But even with the extra income combined with the stipend she received from the school system for counseling services, it still hadn’t been enough, and why she was stuck here. She grimaced as she took in the extended-stay hotel room she’d managed to find in her limited price range. She missed the spaciousness of her apartment and the art studio she had set up in one of the bedrooms.

  But it helped having a paying client at the moment. While she was loath to admit it, her financial situation had meant it hadn’t taken much persuasion on Rafe’s part to get her to agree to the daily sessions with Dex, which at the moment were helping the little boy. But as soon as that changed, she would have to tell him they couldn’t continue. Because no matter how much of a financial strait she was in, she wasn’t using the little boy’s problems to help her own.

  Then once the job at The Covenant came to an end in a few weeks, she would have to begin the process of searching something new to supplement her income.

  She fastened the red bowtie around her neck and checked her reflection.

  “Okay, Aubrey, let’s go.”

  She slipped on her black ballerina shoes and a light jacket before heading out the door. The drive to Tampa from their little community outside Lakeland took about forty minutes, and she had plenty of time to get there for her 6 p.m. to 2 a.m. shift.

  She arrived at the entrance to the compound and was nodded to proceed through the gate by the guard on duty. She passed a few member cars parked in the front as she drove to the designated employee parking area. It was still early, but the club didn’t lack people wanting to start their evening of fun.

  She went in through the front entrance and smiled at several of her coworkers and then made sure to stop by to speak to the man she’d come to think of as the gatekeeper to everything.

  “Hey, Tiny.” Aubrey smiled as she called out to The Covenant’s head of security, who could be considered anything but tiny. She’d found this mountain of a man a bit intimidating at first but had soon realized he was a gentle giant—one who could bust a few heads when the need arose. She was going to miss him when it was time to leave.

  “How are you doing tonight, Miss Aubrey?” He nodded a greeting to a few early arrivers who had entered in front of her as he opened the door to the club for them. “Ready for the evening?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said as she took off her jacket, draped it over her arm, and then shivered. “It’s always a little chilly out here.”

  Tiny chuckled and leaned back against the wall. “You’ll warm up once you—”

  “I’ll keep you warm, sweet cheeks.”

  Aubrey stiffened at the voice coming up behind her and then cringed at the brush of fingers across her bare back. She quickstepped away from the man’s touch. Tiny’s features hardened as he pulled away from wall. “Master Warren, is this your guest?”

  Aubrey whipped around in time to see Master Warren pulling the man back with a hard yank of his arm. “Cut it out, Mike.”

  She recognized Master Warren but not his friend.

  Aubrey shuddered as the man’s gaze ran over her body. “You said the wait—”

  “She doesn’t play.” Master Warren stared hard at the other man who eyed her up and down again as his host said, “See the yellow wristband?”

  Mike raised one brow at the evidence on Aubrey’s wrist. “My apologies.” His calculating gaze swept up Aubrey’s body before a slight grin kicked up one side of his mouth. “I didn’t notice.”

  “We good, Tiny?” Master Warren asked, still holding the other man’s arm in a firm grip.

  “Miss Aubrey?” Tiny would show the man out if she asked, but it wasn’t worth causing any trouble.

  She took in a deep breath and shook off her sense of unease. “It was an honest mistake.”

  Tiny frowned at Mike for several seconds before turning his hard gaze at the club member. “Master Warren, Mike, enjoy your evening.”

  Master Warren kept ahold of his guest as they went through the double doors where The Eagles’, “Hotel California,” blared on the other side.

  “I—”

  A group of ten or more chattering subs in various states of dress—well, actually undress—interrupted her as they brushed past her to the door. She checked the time. It was getting close to six.

  “Oh. Gotta go. See ya, Tiny.”

  “Have a good night,” he called after her as she hurried into the club. The pounding beat of another classic rock song hit her as she fast-walked across the balcony without taking the time to look over the railing. It was still early and not much would be going on anyhow. She waved at a couple of the other waitresses on her way to the locker room, all the while ignoring a niggling sense of foreboding as she mentally prepared herself for the evening.

  Almost two hours later and the night had been fairly uneventful. She passed by a flogging station where the crack of a whip was followed by a man’s low groan of ecstasy and then skirted around a Dom with a bottomless waitress in his lap. The sub’s moans accompanied a succession of slaps against bare flesh as Aubrey continued on her way with a tray of bottled waters. She grinned. Just another night at—

  A hard grip on her free wrist yanked her to a sudden stop, causing the bottles on her tray to topple over and onto the floor where they rolled this way and that.

  “There you are.”

  She pulled her hand free and glared at a swaying Mike, as the almost empty, fifth-sized bottle of vodka he raised to his mouth slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. She glanced around for Master Warren who was nowhere to be seen in the dense crowd of people surrounding them. “Alcohol isn’t allowed on the pit floor,” she said with some heat as she carefully squatted beside the mess. “Asshole,” she muttered as she picked up the largest shards of glass and placed them on the tray she’d laid on the floor. With all the barefoot people running around, she would have to make sure she got all the tiny slivers as well.

  “Stay right where you are, sweet cheeks,” Mike slurred and then stumbled as she looked up at him, “You’re in just the right position for what I want.”

  Aubrey ignored him and the sound of his zipper lowering as she wiped up what she could see of the vodka and glass before she stood up to search out a bouncer. One of them had to be close by.

  Mike gripped her bicep and pulled her toward him, his voice going hard. “
I said I want you on your knees.”

  She gritted her teeth at the bite of Mike’s nails in her sensitive flesh and then glared into his lascivious gaze as she attempted to tug loose from his hold. “You need to let—”

  “Mine!”

  The inhuman roar bouncing off the walls silenced the pit and stations, with only Steven Tyler’s screaming vocals in the chorus of “Dream On” filling the cavernous space as Aubrey frowned and lifted her head toward the balcony. Her gaze widened and fixed on the tense figure gripping the rail. Master Ian stood with another man about the size of Tiny flanking him, as his glowing eyes zeroed in on her with a burning amber heat.

  “Rafe.”

  3

  “So, have you decided what you’re going to do.”

  Since picking Max up at his hotel in Tampa, the bear had talked nonstop about everything from Rafe’s newly selected Beta and Guardian to how humid it was.

  Rafe glanced over at Max before fixing his eyes back on the interstate. “When we get to The Covenant? We’ll talk to the bartenders and some of the female wait staff.” He checked over his shoulder and switched lanes before looking ahead at the mile marker. They had another five miles before the turn-off. “And according to Ian, the man has certain tastes. One or two of the waitresses were favorites of his.” He grinned over at the man taking up most of the passenger side of his car. “So we’re good as long as we aren’t interfering with his members’ good time.”

  “I meant Aubrey.”

  Rafe tensed and focused back on the road. Aubrey wasn’t a subject he cared to discuss. It was a hell of thing to have his Destined Mate in his home every day—right there and close enough to touch—and know he couldn’t pursue her. And so far, every one of those days had been an exercise in sexual torture the likes of which had him taking himself in hand more often than he ever had as a hormonal teen.

  His water bill was going to be exorbitant after his multiple daily showers.

  But his own needs took a back seat to Dex’s. Because even after the short time she’d been working with him, Aubrey had managed to coax more smiles out of Dex than he’d seen from the child for months at a time. Aubrey didn’t always see that as the kind of progress necessitating her daily presence at the ranch, and had said as much when she once again attempted to reduce the number of days she came out, but those smiles meant more to Rafe than he could express.

  But with those smiles came the realization he needed to steel himself from The Calling pulling him toward Aubrey. It also meant he had to keep his distance and come into close personal contact with her only when necessary. Because if she experienced The Awakening and saw him as the shifter she dreamed of—and as a Destined Mate she would be dreaming of him and his panther—he’d be unable to resist mating her. The more they were together, the more she was likely to have that epiphany.

  So, right now his nephew’s well-being and future happiness were more important than him claiming his mate—even one who was destined.

  “What do you know about Aubrey?” He frowned over at Max. “You haven’t even met her.”

  “No, but you talk about her enough I feel—”

  “I don’t talk about her that much.” Did he?

  “Oh, yes you do.” The bear had the nerve to laugh. “Aubrey said this. Aubrey did that. Aubrey has more talent in her delicate little pinky finger than Michelangelo did when he painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.”

  Rafe cut his eyes over at the smirking bear. “How does Law put up with you all the time without killing you?”

  “I’m lovable and a joy to be around.”

  “Right.”

  “Look,” Max said. “I get she’s important to Dex, but the counseling’s going on for what, another five weeks or so? I mean, I agree that’s a long time to go with a chubby, but—”

  “Can we not talk about this?” Rafe growled, but the bear obviously wasn’t paying attention.

  “So what the hell, man? Let her know you’re interested. I’m sure she’ll agree to wait.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Is she married or dating someone?” Max shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “Ah, yeah, that’d be a dick move.”

  “No, she’s not married.” Thank God. “And I don’t think she’s dating anyone. And if she is, it can’t be serious, not with her…” He cut his eyes over at Max who sat with an expectant look on his face. “Never mind.”

  The idea she might have someone in her life had plagued him since she’d told him her weekends were busy. What if she was spending that time with some other man? She was still broadcasting The Calling loud and clear, so she didn’t love whoever it was, if there was anyone. He eased his grip on the steering wheel to keep from cracking it. He should have just asked.

  Right, and then she’d think I was butting into her personal life.

  But the main reason he hadn’t asked was he didn’t want to hear his worst fear—that some man was touching and kissing what was his—taking her body in ways he longed to and had imagined with each stroke of his soapy hand.

  “So what’s the problem then?”

  “Are bears always this nosey?” he grumbled.

  “We are inquisitive creatures.” More like a pain in the ass. “Oh, come on. It’s not like she’s your Destined Mate or anything.”

  Rafe tensed—his jaw clenching.

  A thick silence followed as Rafe took the turn leading to The Covenant until Max let out a low whistle. “Holy shit. She is.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you aren’t even trying?”

  Rafe shook his head and kept his narrowed gaze on the road.

  “That’s not natural, man.”

  “I know. So, I’d like to drop the subject.” Rafe chuffed and flashed a bit of fang. “Now.”

  Max lifted his hands and settled back in his seat, mumbling, “You didn’t have to go all alpha on me.”

  Blessed silence followed until they pulled up to the club’s entry gate and Rafe rolled down his window for the guard.

  “Can I help you, sir?” The guard ducked his head and looked into Rafe’s vehicle. “You and your friend?”

  “Rafe Navarro and Max Fairchild for Ian Sawyer.”

  The guard nodded and checked the tablet in his hand before bending to the window again. “May I see both of your licenses, please?”

  “Of course.”

  Rafe and Max pulled out their wallets and removed their licenses while the guard went to the back of Rafe’s vehicle and keyed in something on the pad—probably his tag—before coming back and verifying their identities.

  “Everything looks good,” he said as he handed them back their licenses and the gate swung open. “Welcome to The Covenant.”

  Rafe hadn’t been quite sure what to expect, but the club was huge.

  “Exactly what kind of club is this?” Max asked while straining his neck to see over the back of his seat as Rafe pulled into a free parking space. “I see some interesting, um, clothes on a few of the folks coming in and out.”

  “Exclusive.”

  Max turned in his seat, stared at him for a moment, and then frowned. “That’s the same answer and cagey look Law gave me when I asked him that question.” He raised one brow and pursed his lips. “Why don’t I trust you guys?”

  “What’s not to trust?” Rafe asked, shrugging before he got out of the car.

  “I could probably come up with several things,” Max answered after leaving the car, slamming the door, and falling into step beside him. As they got to the stairs leading to the entrance, he stopped short and grabbed Rafe’s jacketed arm. “Wait.” Max’s head went up in the air as he breathed deeply through his nose and then snorted. “I smell sex. Lot and lots of sex.” About that time, the door swung outward with a woman covered in a black leather bodysuit that hugged every inch of her statuesque, curvy figure stepping out.

  “Here, ma’am,” Max said, quickly bounding up the steps and holding the door open as he gave her a grin—one that so
on turned to a confused frown. Rafe held in a laugh as Max’s gaze went to the riding crop the woman held in one hand and then the lead for a leash in the other. A second later, a petite young woman followed her out attached to the leash by a leather collar, wearing nothing but a satisfied smile and a series of red welts on her breasts, ass, and bare pussy.

  “Thank you,” the young woman murmured to Max, who gawked after them as they progressed toward the parking lot.

  A flush rode up Max’s cheeks. “I think I know what kind of club this is,” he finally said after several moments of his jaw working. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Law has a twisted sense of humor.“ He skewered Rafe with an aggravated glare. “And you’re just as bad.”

  “What did I do?”

  Max huffed. “Nothing. But you could’ve at least warned a guy.”

  Rafe burst out laughing as they entered the club to find Ian standing just inside waiting on them. His old friend and SEAL teammate greeted Rafe with a bear hug and several slaps on the back.

  “About time you made it here, man.”

  “Good to see you too, bruh,” Rafe said as they separated from each other.

  “You know you don’t live far enough away you can’t come visit,” Ian quipped as he glanced beside Rafe at Max.

  “Ian Sawyer.” Rafe gestured to Max who was doing his best to count ceiling tiles when two scantily clad women walked by. “Meet Max Fairchild.”

  Rafe chuckled at Ian’s amused expression as Max kept his eyes up and shoved out a hand. Ian took his hand and then whispered, “I thought you shifter people were accustomed to nudity,” as he shook it before letting it go.

  Rafe nodded, grinning. “We—”

  “We are,” Max said, taking a cautious look around before lowering his gaze further. “But a bunch of naked humans. Man it’s, uh… Hi, ma’am,” he said, nodding at one of several women Rafe had spied in the same uniform of black bra and miniskirt with a bowtie around their necks. Max leaned in. “It’s just different, and it’s not polite to stare.”

 

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