by Grant, Livia
“This is your second.”
“I know,” the woman snapped. “I mean—thanks.” Once the bartender walked away with the glass, she curled her lips into her mouth and heaved a heavy sigh. Regret for being a bitch toward the bartender?
“I know it sounds cheesy, but I haven’t seen you around here before. Been a member long?” he tried again. The woman was obviously nervous. Maybe he could calm her down before an unlucky Dominant got ahold of her and they both had a miserable time.
She cast him a side glance before settling her gaze on her folded hands on top of the bar. “No. Just signed up right before they started taking applications for Roulette.”
“So, you haven’t been here before?” he asked, leaning forward.
“I was here once before.” She turned a hard stare at him. “But it wasn’t for long. Just to get the lay of the land.”
Her wine appeared and, before she could reach for her bag, Jack had his wallet out.
“Wine’s included in the event tonight,” the bartender waved away his attempt to pay.
“I didn’t need you to do that.” Another quick shot with a sour tone, only to be counteracted when her shoulders slumped.
“Didn’t think you did.” He tucked his wallet back into his jeans.
Her jaw tensed. If he plucked her the wrong way, she’d break—she was wound so damn tight.
“Thank you, though,” she added in a rush, as though her manners just caught up with her from outside.
“So, what do you think about the event tonight?”
She shrugged. “It’s just a night for some fun. Whatever happens happens.” Exhaustion underplayed her tone. Maybe this was more than nerves for the night. Maybe she was looking for the same relief he was and just wanted to get the party started.
“One month free membership for each person is a pretty good incentive, though, right?”
“Yeah. I suppose.” She brought her wine to her full lips and drank down half before putting it back on the bar. “It would be nice to have at least one month free,” she said with a small smile starting to form.
“Even better if your scene wins then you’d have two months free,” Jack pointed out.
“Yeah, but I’m not counting on it. Having some fun is enough, why push my luck.” Her smile faltered, and her lips pinched together. Resealing the vault, he supposed. Her gaze lowered and she gripped the stem of her wine glass harder.
“Still, it’d be sweet,” he said, hoping she’d relax more. Tension rolled off of her, more than a single glass of wine would fix. This girl was stressed.
“Hey! Jack!” Brody wiggled out of the crowd and waved. “I forgot you said you’d be here tonight.” Brody smacked his heavy hand on Jack’s shoulder.
“Hi, man.” Jack shook his hand. “Are you a spectator tonight?”
“Yes. I. Am.” Brody grinned, showing off newly whitened teeth. His gaze swept over to the woman Jack had been talking with. “But my play card is wide open for tomorrow. Who’s this lovely lady?” He raised an eyebrow.
Jack’s stomach tensed. Having Brody’s attention on her felt wrong. Not that Jack knew anything about her—not even her name—but she wouldn’t fit into Brody’s love’em and leave’em lifestyle. Where Jack was upfront about sceneing at the clubs and not taking any of it home with him, Brody used a much more hidden approach. He didn’t want just one night—he wanted as many as he could get while he was interested then dropped them when it became boring. Which typically happened a few weeks in.
“This is…” Jack looked over at her, giving her a chance to fill in her name.
“Here, you can have my seat. I’m going to get closer to the stage anyway.” She hopped off the barstool, giving Jack a full view of her. Sitting had hidden all of her curves. Dressed all in black, she almost blended into the room. Her blouse was buttoned up to her throat, but it didn’t do a good enough job of hiding her breasts. And her pants hugged her hips, giving him a damn good idea how curvy she was beneath.
He dropped his hands to his lap. It may be dark in the room, but with the neon lighting, she might be able to make out his cock stiffening.
“Okay, well. Have fun.” Brody waved her off, making a sarcastic face.
“Maybe I’ll see you later,” Jack said, but she’d already spun around and hurried into the crowd.
“Wasn’t she sweet?” Brody hopped on the empty stool and called out for a beer.
Jack lost her and turned back to the bar, still nursing his rum and Coke.
“She’s just nervous, I think.”
“Pfft. Or she’s just a raging bitch.” Brody tossed his membership card on the bar and swiped up the bottle of beer the bartender brought him.
Jack gave him a hard glare. “I don’t think so.”
Brody raised a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. There’s plenty of ass here tonight.”
Jack raised his brow. “Yeah, I can see that.”
Brody took a long pull of his beer, obviously oblivious to Jack’s meaning.
“Looks like they’re getting ready to start.” Brody nudged his chin toward the main stage. “Fuck, is she one of the subs spinning tonight?” Brody’s voice dripped with hunger at the sight of Madison in her leather outfit.
“She’s the MC.” Jack put his drink on the bar and stood from the stool. Madison may be rocking the dominatrix look, but his gaze traveled over the crowd for someone else entirely.
“Still. Sign. Me. Up.” Brody licked his lips.
“Dude.” Jack smacked his shoulder. “Try to keep yourself in control.”
Brody shrugged. “I’ll do my best. Hey, where you going?”
“Getting ready to spin,” Jack said. “See you later.”
Chapter 2
Quinn
Quinn tugged at the hem of her blouse while sliding farther off to the side of the crowd waiting for the next Dominant to be called on stage. She shouldn’t have had the second wine. Or maybe she should have had a few before she’d embarked on her crazy idea of joining Black Light’s Valentine Roulette.
It had made a lot more sense when she’d filled out the application than it did standing among the rich and famous waiting to see who spun her name. Having made the full move from Chicago to L.A. only a few weeks before didn’t give her much time to get to know anyone. Not that she would have even if she’d been in town for months.
She did alone pretty damn well, and there was no reason to mess with what worked.
Buried in work and planning for the opening of her new office in L.A., she hadn’t found a moment of relaxation. Finding Black Light had been a message from the gods. In Chicago, she had a small circle of Dominants who were more than happy to straighten her ass out when she found herself wound too tight. All of them good friends, and none of them looking for more than a good time. Now that she’d found Black Light, she hoped to find a similar setup—but for the immediate future, Roulette would have to do.
“Tanner47 you’re up!” the woman in the delicious catsuit called. Quinn’s stomach lurched. Another Dominant, another spin, another chance to be called.
This was what she wanted, right? A scratch for her itch. But it had been so long since she had to put the effort into meeting someone new, she wasn’t sure she was up for it. Hell, she’d had a three-second interaction with a devastatingly hot guy at the bar and fucked it up royally. No matter how much she tried to temper her bitchiness, when she was stressed or nervous it just flowed from every pore of her body. He probably thought her repulsive after the way she’d acted. Why couldn’t she keep her tongue still and just stay quiet? It would be less abrasive than how she’d behaved.
Her breath lodged in her throat the moment her eyes landed on the Dominant stepping onto the stage. The man from the bar.
Another twist of her stomach.
“Well, let’s get right to it. Spin the wheel and drop the ball for your play partner for the night.” Madison handed him the little white ball as the wheel spun.
“Fuck, I hope I get him.�
�� A whisper came from behind her. Quinn stiffened.
“Quinn!” Madison called out.
The room froze.
Tanner47 looked up from the wheel and scanned the crowd. Quinn took a shaky step forward, raising her gaze from the wheel to the man staring straight at her.
Was he disappointed?
He couldn’t ask for another spin, could he?
Several steps later, she made her way up to the stage.
“Quinn.” His lips spread wide into a grin, showcasing a deep dimple on his left cheek.
“Uh. Hi.” She refocused her attention to Madison and took the ball she was handed.
“Just drop the ball once the wheel is spinning, and we’ll find out your kink for at least the first thirty minutes,” Madison explained again.
The wheel spun before Quinn could get a good look at the kinks listed. There probably wasn’t any way to swing the results her way, but she wanted to try. Impact play would be amazing. Now she would just have to trust her luck.
Not that it had ever done her any favors in the past.
She dropped the ball where Madison pointed and bit down on her lower lip as the wheel continued to spin around, around, around. The little ball started dancing as it slowed.
Clank.
Clank.
The kinks came into view.
Impact.
Fisting.
Vaginal Sex.
Clank.
She didn’t take her eye off the ball as it bounced.
Edging.
Clank.
Slower and slower.
Knife play.
Clank.
And then it stopped.
Quinn’s jaw fell open. All her blood rushed to her face.
“Diaper play!” Madison called out with entirely too much energy. Quinn raised her gaze to the woman, a searing comment burning her tongue.
“Is that on your hard list?” Tanner47 stepped up to her before her mouth could form the words.
She closed her eyes.
“No.” She had seen it on the form and figured the chances were so slim of getting it, she used her hard limits for other activities.
“Mine either,” he chuckled.
“Great. Looks like you’re set then!” Madison smiled. If the woman bounced up and down, Quinn would lose her resolve to keep her bitchy self in check.
“Come on, let’s get away from the stage so we can talk before we start.” Tanner47 wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her away from the wheels.
Diaper play.
How the fuck do you even play with a diaper?
Quinn pulled back on him once they were a safe distance from the crowd and could hear each other easily.
“Tanner—”
“Jack.” He cut her off. “My name is Jack.”
“Oh.” She wrinkled her brow. “Sorry. I assumed from your handle.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hate picking those things. I figured… ass tanner… Tanner…” His smile faded on the edges. “Cheesy as hell, right?”
“A little.” She nodded. Small talk hurt. It was awkward and clunky, and she almost always stuck her foot so far into her mouth she would trigger her own gag reflex.
He laughed.
“So, from your reaction, I’m guessing diaper play isn’t your thing.” He motioned toward a high table for them to move to. Having something between them would make the negotiation part of this easier, even if it was just a small table.
“No. Not really.” She admitted. They wouldn’t be able to stray from what they spun, but maybe she could still get what she wanted. “But I guess we can make it work.”
His head tilted to the side. “How so?”
“I mean, we probably just need to start with that, right? I mean put the damn thing on, then take it off for the real fun.” Like a hard ass beating. Maybe then her nerves would settle enough she could carry on a conversation without wanting to bolt from the room.
“And what do you think the real fun is?” His chin lowered and his eyes narrowed—all signs she should tread lightly. But the nerves dancing in her stomach blocked her filter.
“You know, like flogging, paddling, spanking, whippings. Stuff like that. Fun.” She smiled.
“Impact play.” He nodded. “Have you ever scened with anything else?”
There hadn’t been a need. She wanted a beating, she called up one of her Doms, and they delivered it. What would be the purpose of playing with anything else?
“Not really, no.”
“And by not really you mean…” He rolled his hand.
“No,” she snapped. “I guess not.” Dammit, there was the bitch again. Couldn’t she just bunk down for one night and let Quinn make somewhat of a decent first impression?
He dragged in a loud breath through his nose and gave a slow nod. “So, you’re a pain slut?”
She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Something wrong with that?” She curled her toes tight until they hurt in her shoes. He could still walk away from her; he could demand another roll. She had to find a way to relax.
His left eyebrow arched to a point. “Didn’t say there was. It was just a question.”
“Okay, then.” She nodded. Decision made. They’d start with the damn diaper but then move on to the impact stuff. Good.
“You like the pain because it relaxes you?” he asked.
She sighed. Good. He understood. “Yeah. It’s better than any hot bath I’ve ever taken.”
He nodded some more, glancing toward the stage. “They’re on the last couple.”
“Do you have a play bag you need to get?” she asked.
“Not yet.” He slid around the table, closer to her. “You don’t think any other type of play or submission can give you the same relaxing effect?”
Ugh! Were they still on this?
“We can do the diaper thing because we rolled it. That’s fine.” She tried to force some lightness into her tone, but she feared it came out just as snappish as before. “I mean, yeah. The diaper thing is fine.” Was that the same or worse?
“Hmmm.” Again, with the nodding.
“What?” she snapped when he didn’t say anything else.
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “But, before we start, you understand you’re the sub here? You get that I’m the one calling the shots and, unless you call the safe word, you’re mine for the next three hours?” He slid his hand up her arm to her throat then snaked it behind her head until he had a firm grip on her hair.
Pain shot down her neck, kicking every nerve ending in her body awake until it jolted her clit. Every muscle softened with a simple tug of her hair.
“I get that,” she whispered, searching his eyes.
He moved closer to her, leaning forward so she couldn’t see anything other than his face.
“I think you’re someone who deflects emotions with bratty behavior and snarky comments. Someone who’s shy and looks intimidating, but once those barriers are taken down, you’re something entirely different.”
She swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. They’d only had one brief conversation where she’d been damn close to rude to him. How could he know anything for certain at this point?
“I didn’t mean to sound rude,” she said, and she meant it. People threw her into the bitch category before getting to know her. She wouldn’t blame any of them. First impressions weren’t her strong suit.
His lips cracked into a smile, not a pleased and handsome one, but rather a grin that soaked her panties—a knowing grin filled with dark and sinister promises.
“I know you didn’t.” His fingers tightened, sending another jolt of fire through her scalp. “And I know you weren’t trying to manipulate me into letting you top from the bottom.”
She opened her mouth to agree with him, but the arching of his brow stilled her tongue. That was exactly what she’d been doing.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to start yet,” she said instead.
His smile didn’t fade as his other hand caressed her jaw.
“I can tell our couples are ready to get started, so everyone have fun and play safe!” Madison’s voice boomed over the crowd.
“Now we are.” He released her hair. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 3
Jack
Jack held fast to Quinn’s hand as he led her to the costume room. He’d never played the Daddy Dom before, but after their short conversation he knew exactly what she needed. It wasn’t the little girl she needed to find in herself to get that relaxation she wanted; it was getting out of her own head. And that he could work with. The diaper was just a prop.
“They might not have the right size,” she said as they made their way down the darkened hallway to the costumes room.
Jack stopped and spun around to her. “What does that mean?” She had curves, maybe more than some men would like, but there wasn’t an ounce of her that didn’t speak straight to his cock. When he got her out of her blouse and pants, he’d get the real picture, and he couldn’t wait for it.
“It means I’m not average size, and they might not have one that will work,” she said straight to his face, not backing down in her attitude an inch. Her nerves must be riled pretty hard. The moment the words left her mouth, regret flashed in her eyes. How many people saw her kneejerk speech and assumed she was—like Brody did— a raging bitch? At first glance, he might have agreed, but there was something softer beneath her exterior. The attitude—that needed to be dealt with soon if he was going to have any fun with her— felt like more of a defense measure than the truth of her personality.
“We’ll make it work.”
“Or, we could just roll something else… you know… if they can’t fit me,” she tried with a lopsided grin. Again, working her way toward a spanking instead of what they’d rolled. She had no idea how much he wanted to oblige her—give her the hardest belting he’d given in ages, not only because he thought she could handle it, but because she really deserved it.
“Like I said, we’ll make it work.” He tugged her along to the room.