by Cari Quinn
After taking a detour to the men’s room, he dropped Marcia’s special new glass friend off in the car then spent a few minutes contemplating the star-speckled sky while a noisily kissing couple felt each other up in the next car over.
He’d picked the wrong place to cozy up with his thoughts apparently.
By the time he worked his way back upstairs, Marcia and Cale were fully dressed and eyeing each other warily.
“What’s up?” Tony asked, perching lightly on the arm of the sofa. He wasn’t too keen on sitting on most of the surfaces in this joint, despite its relative cleanliness. Considering what went down here—literally—a guy couldn’t be too careful.
“Ask him,” Marcia muttered.
Cale jerked a shoulder. “Just asked her what else she was in the mood for tonight.”
“Right now, I’m the mood to catch my breath.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry if that’ll slow you down, stud.”
Cale’s lips twisted up. “Watching doesn’t take much energy, now does it? Come on, let’s get some drinks.”
Tony and Marcia followed him downstairs to the bar. “What’s his deal?” Marcia whispered to Tony.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Let me get you a drink,” Cale said to Marcia, ordering her a shot of raspberry vodka before she had a chance to reply.
“Hey, you didn’t let me decide what I want.”
“Think I can handle ordering.” The hard kiss Cale gave Marcia baffled Tony more than it annoyed him.
Cale had been fine upstairs. At first anyway. But as their play had continued, he’d become progressively rougher and more aggressive. Was it the atmosphere or what?
“Didn’t doubt it, but I can order my own drink fine, thanks.” Marcia’s irritation rang out loud and clear.
“Wasn’t asking.”
Marcia frowned. “What’s your problem?”
Tony wondered that too but when Cale met Tony’s gaze, his expression held a clear message. Play along.
“No problem, just establishing some guidelines. We’re capable of taking care of you the way you need.”
“I’ve already been taken care of in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Yeah, well, we say when that care ends, Blondie.” Cale’s dismissive look at Marcia made her hackles rise so visibly that Tony nearly grinned. Shit, his best friend was about to lose an arm if he kept it up.
“We? Since when? Last I knew I was Tony’s girlfriend, not yours.”
“When you’re here with us, you’re ours to be shared equally. Isn’t that what we agreed?”
Though Cale’s voice never lifted over his usual measured tones, Tony didn’t miss the steel beneath the question.
Cale had dabbled in some things that bordered on the darker edges of sex, at least by his own relatively vanilla standards, but Tony didn’t know if that had anything to do with Cale’s sudden behavior change. Was he trying to show Marcia a different side to him and his sexuality? Or was something else going on?
“Yeah, we agreed. But we also agreed you were both mine as well. I didn’t sign on for some submissive gig—”
Cale silenced her with one fingertip on her chin. “You signed on for whatever we want unless you’ve decided to call things off. These aren’t your rules. It’s either all the way or no way.”
Indignance flared in Marcia’s wide eyes. “So I have no choice?”
“You just got your choices. So choose. And if you choose not to agree, then this stops here and now.”
Tony started to speak but Cale’s quick, almost imperceptible headshake cut him off. Above all else he trusted his best friend. This threesome would’ve never happened otherwise. Whatever Cale was up to, it wasn’t just some kinky sex game.
Marcia glanced at Tony. “Well?” she demanded, lifting her voice above the laughter and noise of the crowd. “Is he speaking for you now as well?”
Tony jerked a shoulder, caught between the proverbial best friend rock and possibly-couch-sleeping hard place. “You heard the guy. Sounds like a hard limit to me.”
“Oh really. What if I call a halt to everything with both of you? How about that?”
“No,” Cale snapped. “This is my limit, not Tony’s. You want out, you’re out.” Still using that single fingertip, he lightly pushed her face away and stepped back to motion to the bartender. After ordering a neat whiskey, he aimed one last meaningful look at Tony and stalked away from the bar, then headed upstairs as if he knew exactly where he was going.
He probably did. They’d been there the night before and checked out things pretty thoroughly. But Cale’s purposeful gait indicated so much more than just that he had a particular location in mind.
He wanted them to follow.
“Can you fucking believe the power trip he’s on? What the hell’s his deal?” Marcia whirled toward Tony and screwed up her mouth. “For that matter, what’s yours? I thought you always had my back.”
“I do.” He stroked a hand down her hair and tried not to rise to her bait. As far as he was concerned, this was way too much melodrama just to fuck. They had a bed at home and enough toys to entertain themselves for a week straight. Why go through all this? Just so people could gawk at them?
Yeah, that had been hot. Before. Now he was just bored.
He already knew who he wanted. Even the thing with Cale already seemed like it had reached its expiration date. Fine by him. He’d happily go home with his girlfriend and do it ’til the sun came up in the privacy of his own damn bedroom.
“What do you think he’s doing up there?” Marcia looked at the staircase then back at Tony.
“No clue.” Don’t care. “But I suppose you want to find out?” he asked when she continued to glance back and forth.
“He’s acting like a tool.” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you put him up to this?”
“For what reason?”
She threw up her hands. “How should I know?”
“I didn’t put him up to anything, Marsh. Have you ever known me to lie to you?”
She inhaled deeply. “No, you’re not a liar. I’m sorry for accusing you. I just don’t know what’s going on anymore.”
“Me either. Guess it’s either go with the flow or go create our own waves at home.” He pulled her close and brushed a kiss over her temple. “Your choice.”
“Why are you so damn good to me?” The annoyance in her question made him smile despite himself.
Because I love you. The words were right there but this wasn’t the place to say them. “You’re important to me,” he said instead, tightening his hold. “Very important.”
“You are to me too.” She spoke against his Adam’s apple, her mouth moving sensuously over his skin. “Tony, I—”
“Later, okay?” he murmured against her hair. Whatever she was going to say, he didn’t want to hear it here. Good or bad, this wasn’t the place for important revelations. “We’ll talk.”
She nodded before stepping away. The contemplative expression in her hazel eyes wasn’t a look he’d seen her wear often. “Let’s go see what he’s up to. Then we’ll go home. Okay?”
Home. Theirs. Would they ever share one? And how unreal was it that he was considering that question while, two feet away, a woman with a shaved head stroked her bare nipple and gazed adoringly at her seven-foot companion?
“Okay,” he said as he nudged Marcia ahead of him toward the stairs.
They made their way to the second level slowly, as if neither was in a particular rush to see what Cale was up to. Or maybe that was just Tony. He didn’t really care to know what had drawn Cale’s attention. Not when he was less interested in getting laid than in laying his feelings on the line.
Either he was getting old or growing up. Both possibilities were a little frightening.
Once they reached the lounge, Tony glanced around. Cale wasn’t anywhere in sight. The couch they’d occupied just a short while ago had been taken by four girls in tight tops and minis who barely looked old enough
to drink. They giggled loudly, their gazes darting everywhere at once.
“Steam room?” he murmured against Marcia’s hair.
“Maybe.” She jerked a shoulder. “Or the dungeon.”
“You test me.” He slid his hand down her arm until he could link his fingers with hers.
“It’s not my scene either,” she insisted as they crossed the room.
“I thought everything was your scene,” he teased, opening the door that led to the BDSM room.
“Me too but apparently—”
A sharp scream drowned out the rest of Marcia’s answer. She clutched Tony’s hand tighter as they stepped into the darkened room. The door clunked shut behind them.
There were a lot fewer people tonight, which somehow spotlighted the action on the raised platform in the center. The brunette on the spanking bench had been totally stripped except for her string bikini top and thong panties. Bright red welts decorated the perfect white globes of her ass.
“Shit.” Tony winced when the man at her side landed another blow on her body.
“Yeah, ouch.” Marcia pressed closer to Tony. “That’s gotta fucking burn.”
Still, the woman writhed and begged. She wore a black blindfold that obscured half her face and her lean, pliable body flexed with each strike. Her enthusiastic moans proved she wanted every bit of what was coming to her.
The man handed off the implement to the guy on his other side and stepped off the platform, giving his new pal room to take center stage.
Jesus, the friend was Cale.
He looked completely in his element as he ran the tip of the object between the woman’s sweat-drenched shoulder blades. Her skin gleamed in the low lighting and her thighs trembled from the exertion of holding herself still.
“Shit,” Tony muttered again.
Cale prowled around the bench, the long not-quite-a-whip whispering over her from the base of her neck to her ankles. It was as if he wanted to completely scope out her body before he started putting his mark on it.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. Could be this was just some elaborate ruse. For what, he had no clue.
The first crack against skin made Marcia let out a little gasp. There was a terrible beauty to his movements, a sort of practiced skill at knowing just where to hit and how hard to make his submissive moan.
“Quiet.” Cale’s command silenced both the crowd and the woman under his hand, as if a switch had been flipped. Then he again began landing blows.
Tony swallowed hard. For chrissakes, it wasn’t some stranger up there. His best friend was the one doing the honors, his muscled forearm rippling with each strike. And his face—
“Now that’s a hard-on,” Marcia whispered, her breath whispering over Tony’s neck.
Tony managed not to grimace. The front of Cale’s jeans protruded so far he could drill wood without benefit of a hammer. “Guess we know what he’s into now.”
“Guess so.” Marcia rested her head on Tony’s chest, her face still turned toward the front of the room. Shying away from new experiences wasn’t her style.
Though it was silly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He didn’t need to shield her from anything, that much was clear. But he wanted her to know she was safe with him, that if anything was too overwhelming for her he’d gladly take her out of here and never come back.
“She’s loving every minute.”
“Sure is.”
Why was the question. Why did someone get off on receiving pain and why did someone else enjoy giving it? In this case, why did Cale enjoy giving it?
The whip-crop-whatever swung through the air, landing with a noticeable thwap right above the brunette’s ass cheeks. She cried out, her body shimmying to its own rhythm, but her gyrations weren’t what took Tony’s attention. Faint black lines swirled in the hollow of her back, somehow becoming more apparent with each crack of the whip. Dark curlicues, a shadow of the large blue wings of a butterfly.
The woman shifted on the bench and flung back her curtain of dark hair. Something about the curve of her jaw, the way she held herself even while she was in the throes of—well, passion, Tony supposed, unsure if that adequately described her current state—dinged a bell at the back of his mind.
Holy shit.
Tony pulled Marcia closer, hardly aware of her protest. He’d apologize for crushing her later, but right now he had to distract her, anything to take her focus from the front of the room. At least if what he thought he was seeing wasn’t a mirage.
Other women looked like her. She wasn’t that unusual. There were lots of pretty brunettes in their early forties.
But there was that tattoo, one she’d obviously gone to some effort to conceal. Too bad her makeup was running off. Obviously it wasn’t heatproof. Or crop-proof.
She again turned her head toward the crowd, her damp lips parted in silent plea, and Tony sucked in a breath. Dammit, there was no denying it.
The woman being whipped by Cale was Diana.
Chapter Ten
“Hey, flesh and bone here. You’re about to squeeze me to death.”
“Sorry.” Tony loosened his hold on Marcia slightly but he didn’t look at her.
Weird. Before tonight, she would’ve guessed bondage and pain wasn’t his thing at all. Now he seemed oddly fascinated. Had their sex club exploits finally gone too far?
Another scream rent the air as Marcia glanced up at the taut lines of Tony’s face. Sure, he looked a little tense, but she was reading too much into things. Her boyfriend wasn’t enjoying this and neither was she.
Obviously Cale had found a new playmate and that was just as well, since she had no intention of getting up on that bench anytime soon. There was a big difference between playful recreational spanking and a public whipping, so big that she’d officially reached the end of the line with Cale. And Kink too.
Actually she’d reached that line last night. Much as she loved Cale as a friend, being with him had given her two things—multiple orgasms and a crystal clear certainty of the man she wanted in her life.
If only they could just go home already.
“You know how I used to tell you my fantasies about being doubly penetrated,” she murmured, sweeping a kiss over Tony’s jaw.
He barely spared her a glance. “Yeah.”
She looked over her shoulder at Cale, who coincidentally enough was looking straight at them. He started to take a step forward but the moans from his submissive grabbed his focus before he could. At once he levied a succession of blows and more moans rang out, this time from the assembled crowd. The brunette dropped her head to her folded arms, her body shuddering and slick with sweat.
“Well, I’ve decided tonight’s earlier experience was enough,” she said, squeezing Tony’s biceps. “You and that glass dildo are plenty for me.”
His lips tilted upward but his gaze never connected with hers. “Should I be worried you’re in love?”
She blinked, sure she’d misheard him. “With Cale?”
“No. With the dildo.”
“Ah, well, now that’s a good question. Only many more hours of playtime can answer that question for certain.” She patted his chest, so eager to be alone with him it was ridiculous. Nerves jumped like butterflies on speed in her belly at the mere thought.
Cripes, she hated this tension between them. Odd how sleeping with Cale had proven to her exactly how much she was in love with her man—and exactly how happy he made her when they were one-on-one. Tony had given her the experience of a lifetime but now she was ready to start thinking about spending that lifetime with him.
She needed to tell him. Without leaving out any of the grisly, gory details.
Antonio Marcus Griggs, I’m madly, hopelessly in love with you. And so help me, if you’re not in love with me too, if your whole making babies conversation was just the emergence of your inner hippie, I’m going to—
“Can you give me and Cale a couple minutes, Marsh? Alone?” Before she had time to reply, Tony gripped her
shoulders and carefully set her aside. Not pushed, not nudged. Lifted her up and set her aside as if she were a rather large, grimacing doll.
What the fuck?
Tony strode up to Cale and grabbed his arm. They took a few steps away from the platform and bent their heads close. Real close. Every few seconds they tossed glances at the writhing brunette. The instant Cale left her she’d begun whimpering, the broken sounds almost painful.
Marcia dug her nails into her palms. Did Tony want to get freaky with Cale and the pain junkie? What about her?
Well, she’d be damned if she stood around wondering. She’d had a number of epiphanies over the last couple of days and if her lover didn’t care to hear her conclusions, it was his loss. Either Tony was leaving with her now or she would be leaving alone. Somehow. Without a vehicle. In extremely high heels.
Taking a deep breath, Marcia strode over to break up Cale and Tony’s little huddle. Cale’s jaw tightened when he saw her approach but Tony continued his hush-hush convo as if he hadn’t even noticed her presence.
She was about to say something when Tony flapped his hand at her. Did he think she was a dog he needed to teach to heel or what? “Give us a minute, would you? I’ll meet you outside.” His tone was even more distracted than the look he spared her.
“Excuse me?” Marcia crossed her arms over her chest and wondered if Tony knew how close he was to taking part in his first public scene. At least she assumed it was his first. If it wasn’t, it would be his most ugly. “Did you say something?”
“Not right now.” He bit off the words, yanking Cale even farther away as he turned his back on her. “Outside. Gimme a few. I’m sorry.”
Yeah, sorry he would be.
Enough was enough. First Cale had acted like a colossal dick, now Tony was pulling some sort of power trip. Who did they think they were? Who did they think she was?
“Tony, I’m leaving,” she said.
“Okay, great.”
With a harrumph no one seemed to hear, Marcia spun around and rushed out of the pseudo-dungeon. She crossed the lounge with nary a glance at any swinging penises or bouncing breasts. In fact, she didn’t look up from her feet until she was at the exit and her cell started chiming in her purse.