For some reason, tears well up in my eyes, but I manage to blink them away quickly, hopefully before he sees. There’s so much I want to say to him right now, but all I can manage is a quiet “thank you.”
He kisses my forehead. “Come on,” he says gently, but still manages to infuse the words with enough command that I might as well be pulled by a leash as he walks. “And no more free passes,” he says with a grin. “Break the rules again and you’ll pay.”
“Yes, sir.”
I expect him to take us to an empty booth, but instead, he has us sit with a couple who might be in their mid sixties near the back. I nearly give Jayce a confused look, but worry he might consider that questioning him--so I keep my eyes down as we sit. I can’t say why, but every time I have to force myself to obey his rules and conform to the image he expects for his submissive, I feel a rush of satisfaction. Just knowing I’m pleasing him and being what he wants makes me feel more desirable than I’ve ever felt in my life, and as sad as it is, I can’t seem to get enough of his small looks of approval when I follow his rules. I hardly want to think of my father at a time like this, but his way was to ask for perfection. When he got it, there wasn’t so much as a sniff of approval, and when we fell short of what he wanted, there was hell to pay.
So this world Jayce is letting me play a part in feels right. The rules are clear, the punishments are swift and so far, enticing in a dirty way. They stretch the limits of my comfort, but not so far as to make me fearful, especially when every time I do what I’m supposed to, I can tell it’s making Jayce happy.
“Mr. Carlyle,” the man says. I can tell he probably broke a lot of hearts when he was younger, and his companion is no different. I realize I was looking at his face and quickly avert my eyes to the woman at his side, hoping Jayce didn’t notice my slip of concentration. Her lips are curved in a catlike grin while she watches us, gorgeous blue eyes appraising and hard.
“I wanted to introduce you to my submissive,” Jayce says. “And I thought she might be interested to meet the club’s most experienced dominant and submissive.”
“You mean oldest?” asks the man with a grin. “I’m Dennis,” he says to me. “And this is Catrina.”
Jayce chuckles. “Old or experienced. Call it what you will, I was hoping you could explain the history of the club to her. I know you were around long before I ever purchased it and I think she could learn a great deal from you.”
Dennis makes a pleased sound that strikes a note of nervousness in me. If I know one thing about experienced men, it’s that history seems to be an inexhaustible point on which they can talk about for ages.
I’m thoroughly confused now, as I can’t see any reason Jayce would want me to have a history lesson on the club, but Dennis begins in earnest, starting with when the building was constructed and how he was actually there at the construction site.
It’s only a few seconds before Jayce’s hand slides across my thigh under the table. Between trying not to make eye contact with the man who is telling me a story and trying not to look suspicious as Jayce lifts my dress, I feel more than a little tense.
He starts to rub against my panties, sending chills through me and making my already wet pussy throb.
Dennis doesn’t seem to notice, though it’s hard to tell when all I can look at are his wildly gesturing hands. But when I sneak a glance up at Catrina, she’s watching with me a great deal of interest and an even wider grin than before, unless I’m imagining it.
Jayce’s hand slips inside my panties, sliding through my wet folds effortlessly.
I squirm, trying not to close my eyes or moan as he starts to alternate between circling my clit and plunging his fingers inside me. I lean my elbow on the table and put a hand to my mouth, trying to cover the sound of what are now little gasps that I can’t seem to control.
Somewhere through the haze of pleasure, I realize Jayce brought us to this particular table precisely so he could get Dennis rambling while he finger-fucked me just a few feet away from two strangers. Bastard. But as dirty as it is, being pleasured like this without either of them knowing is absolutely thrilling. I press my thighs together, trying to control the shaking that wants to rip through my body, but the pressure only buries Jayce’s fingers deeper inside me.
I sneak a look to the side, wondering how obvious what he’s doing is from the movement of his arm, but I’m impressed to see he’s somehow keeping it completely still. Only his wrist, hand, and fingers are moving, all of which are below the table.
“...And wouldn’t you believe it?” asks Dennis, who looks to Catrina as he pauses for dramatic effect. “They knew where the plans were the whole time!” he announces, banging his hand on the table as he breaks into a bout of laughter.
A moan slips out of my mouth, and I’m thankful for the timing, because I force it to turn into a series of gasping, very strange laughs. Catrina covers her mouth, eyes lit with amusement as she watches me. She knows what’s going on. I can feel it.
My cheeks burn so hot I think I might actually be giving off my own light source.
Jayce is relentless though, and he keeps working magic with his fingers, not caring how much more obvious it’s becoming by the second that something is going on.
I try to look anywhere but at the people who must surely be starting to suspect something, and make the mistake of looking toward the stage. The woman is riding one man while another crouches behind her to fuck her in the ass, and she has her mouth around a third man’s cock while she works two more still with her hands. It’s so perverted and completely wrong, but at this particular moment, I’m not exactly thinking with my conservative side, and it’s just enough to push me over the edge.
My hand comes down hard enough on the table to make Dennis and Catarina’s drink glasses rattle. I look up, even as the orgasm is spearing through me and making my eyes want to shut. “That was incredible,” I breathe with far too much enthusiasm than the boring story warranted. “I can’t believe…” I say, sucking in air. “This place has so much history.”
Dennis, who somehow appears completely oblivious, nods enthusiastically. “If more young folks like you showed an interest in the history around here, I think the world would be a much better place.”
“It’s true,” Catarina agrees with a knowing smile. “He says it all the time.”
Jayce slides his hand out of my panties and to my sheer disbelief, brings his fingers up to his mouth where he licks them clean. Oh my God. I watch him, biting my lip and completely oblivious to how Dennis and Catarina must be looking at us.
“Can I be excused for a moment? I need to use the ladies room,” I say. The real reason is I feel so flushed and strange being this wet in public, I want to make sure I’m not getting anything on my dress. That, and I need a mental breather from Jayce before he pulls any more crazy stunts.
Jayce narrows his eyes at me, clearly disappointed. “I have to pee,” I whisper, hoping that’s enough of an excuse for him not to use the vibrator on me again.
My panties buzz just for a split second, making me falter as I’m walking away from the table. I turn to look back at Jayce when the vibration stops almost immediately. He winks at me and then grins.
I give him a playful glare before heading toward a waiter and asking where the restrooms are. I walk into a small hall off to the side of the main room just as someone bumps into me, nearly knocking me back.
I start to apologize, my words fall short when I see who I knocked into. “Cade?” I ask. I take a step back, sucking in a breath to yell for Jayce, but Cade pulls me into a darkened corner of the hallway and pins me to the wall, pressing his hand to my mouth so I can’t scream.
“Scream and I’ll make you regret it,” he says, bulging his eyes at me until I nod my head.
He pulls his hand away and I suck in a breath to scream, but he slams his hand back against my mouth, bashing my head into the wall as he does. I wince as the impact gives me an immediate headache.
“God
, it’s easy to forget what a fucking bitch you are,” he says. “But I’ll pretend none of this happened. All you have to do is come back to me, baby. You think he’s a dom? Fuck him. I can be the best dom you’ve ever had in your life.”
I try to pull his hands away and kick at him, but he uses his knees to pin my legs against the wall and slaps away my hands with his free hand effortlessly. “Go ahead and cry to your new boyfriend. Tell him I hurt you. That’s all you were ever good at. Fucking crying. And when he doesn’t do shit about it, you can come back to me when you realize you need a real man.”
He shoves me to the side, knocking me down to my knees, where I stay for a few seconds, gasping for breath and wiping the feel of his hand from my face. I want to scream, but all the conditioning from my past rises up in me. The same conditioning that made me weak and kept me from doing anything when guys would treat me like shit. That weakness kept me coming back like a silly, stupid little girl until it got so bad they practically broke me before it got through my blindness.
I shouldn’t be surprised that my instinct is to stay quiet and bottle it up, though. My dad started training me there was no use fighting back or telling anyone from a young age. I can still remember how I told a family friend about what my dad had been doing to us after one of his bad spells. Instead of telling the cops, they told my dad I had been telling stories, and I swear he nearly killed me that night.
I slowly get to my feet, just before a woman comes around the corner and gives me a concerned look, but doesn’t stop before entering the bathroom. I wait a few seconds for my head to stop spinning and step inside after her. I check the damage in the mirror, which isn’t as bad as I thought, and make my way back to Jayce, who is talking with Dennis about some kind of business deal they apparently were in on together a few years ago.
I give him a tight smile that I hope looks genuine as I sit, keeping my eyes down.
Jayce stops mid-sentence. “I’m sorry,” he says, holding a hand up to Dennis and Catarina. “Would you excuse us?”
“Of course,” says Dennis.
Jayce leads me away from the room with the stage into a quieter room, where slow jazz plays and men and women lounge on leather couches, some kissing or fondling, but most just cuddling. Purple light bathes everything, from the people to the glasses of wine and champagne set out for members on several tables throughout the room.
Jayce keeps walking me through the room without saying a word until he takes me to one of a dozen booths set into the wall. He pulls the curtain closed, which offers us complete privacy. For a moment, we’re in total darkness, until he lights a match and ignites the candle at the center of the table.
I want to ask what’s going on, but I know he’ll tell me when he’s ready, so I keep my mouth closed and wait.
“I need you to tell me what happened,” he says stonily.
I reel back, taken off guard. “What happened?” I ask stupidly.
He leans forward until his gorgeous face is lit in flickering orange light. “You left. You came back. Something happened in between.”
I open my mouth wordlessly, trying and failing to think of how I can explain why I didn’t say anything to him when I came back.
“I need to know,” he growls. “Something happened to my princess, and I want to fucking know what it was so I know whose ass to kick.”
I shake my head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Maybe I didn’t tell you because I don’t just want somebody kicking anyone’s ass who treats me wrong.”
“So someone did something to you?” he asks, bull headedly ignoring the point I’m trying to make.
I clutch my temples, letting my head fall. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, okay? I just don’t ever seem to do the right thing when guys are involved. I always let them hurt me and make me feel like shit. It’s only after it’s over that I realize what I should’ve done,” I say, blurting out more than I intended. “Maybe my instincts are just crap.”
Jayce is clearly trying to control his anger, so his words come out clipped and forced. “I can’t help if I don’t know what happened.”
“Cade was here,” I say, looking up. “Okay? He…” my lips curl with disgust when I think about how I let him do that to me and just walk away--how I wasn’t even going to say anything. “He was here,” is all I can manage.
Jayce’s nostrils flare and his hands clench into fists. “That shouldn’t be possible. I had all the security personally shown his picture and told not to let him in under any circumstances.”
“Apparently it was.”
31
Jayce
I look across the candle-lit table to Miley, who looks so fucking perfect with the soft orange light illuminating her features. The idea of that fucking scumbag so much as talking to her has my blood boiling. I’m ready to go rampage through the club, shaking down my bouncers and staff until I find which incompetent idiot was responsible for letting him into the club. One thing’s for sure though, if I thought I was going overboard in my preparations to keep him out of here before, I’m about to set a new fucking bar.
“Wait here,” I say, starting to slide out of the booth to stand.
Miley’s arm snaps across the table, gripping my wrist. “Please,” she says in the smallest, most fragile voice. “Please don’t go.”
I sit back down, fighting every instinct in my body that has me ready to rip Cade’s head off. “I might still be able to catch him.”
“And then what?” she asks.
“Then I’ll teach him what happens when he comes near you,” I say.
“Like last time? You could’ve killed him in my apartment, and he still came back. Jayce… Kyle has been acting like an enforcer for me my whole life. Once a guy mistreats me, he shows up and kicks his ass. You know how much that has helped me avoid getting treated like shit from the next guy that comes along? None.”
“So I’m just supposed to sit by while this ex keeps showing up and harassing you? Fuck that.”
“No,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose and hesitating a long time before she speaks again. “My dad never treated me right… not even close. And every time I tried to fight back it only got worse. So I learned a long time ago the best way to make it stop is just… play dead.”
I shake my head. “No,” he says. “I refuse to accept that. You don’t deserve to have to cower when this fucker comes around. You deserve to be free of that shit, and so help me God, if he makes the mistake of showing his face when I’m around, he’s done.”
“It’s not about whether you accept it or not,” she snaps. “It’s about what I want.”
My lips twitch at the sound of her raising her voice to me. “Be careful how you talk to me,” I warn.
“Or what?” she asks defiantly. “Are you going to hit me too? Slap me around? Show your true colors?”
I grit my teeth. “Don’t,” I say.
“Don’t what? Don’t make you mad, because then I’ll see what kind of man you really are?”
“No,” I say, forcing myself to calm down. “Don’t push me away when you need me most.”
She makes an annoyed sound and gets up like she’s about to leave. I get out of my side of the booth and cut her off, forcing her back into the booth. She struggles against me briefly, swinging her hands wildly and trying to free herself, but I pull her in tight, forcing her to accept my embrace as I hug her to my chest. “Don’t push me away,” I whisper, stroking her back as her hands slowly wrap around my back and she digs her fingers into me, shaking with sobs. “Let me look out for you, princess. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you.”
After I’ve dropped Miley back off at her apartment for the night, I decide to do a little research. I know she wanted me to let it be, but I also know I won’t be able to sleep as long as this fucker is out there, just looking for his chance to harass her again.
Finding his address isn’t hard, because all members of the club have to submit payment information, including their billi
ng address. He lives about five blocks from Miley, which is about a thousand blocks too close for my liking. I park outside his place, straighten my jacket, and walk into the lobby of the apartment complex. It’s a nice place, and probably costs almost twenty grand a month, if my guess is any good.
His apartment is on the second floor, last one at the end of the hall. I knock a few times and wait. I want nothing more than to deck him again, maybe harder this time so he doesn’t get back up, but that’s not what I came here for.
When the door swings open, Cade is squinting at me through bleary, drunken eyes. His hair is a mess and his tie is halfway undone and his shirt is untucked. From the looks of it, he came straight home to drown himself in some booze after he fucked with Miley at the club.
“Mind if I come in?” I ask stonily.
He makes a dismissive sound and tries to slam the door, but I plant a firm palm on the door, holding it open, even as he struggles to force it closed. He eventually realizes it’s useless and sighs dramatically. “The fuck do you want from me? Wanna know how she liked it in the sack? Or maybe--”
“It would be smart if you stopped there,” I say through clenched teeth. “I told myself I wasn’t going to fuck you up tonight, but I only have so much patience, asshole.”
Cade considers me, probably replaying the moment that left him with the swollen nose and dark bruise he still wears on his face. “What?” he asks petulantly.
“I’m giving you one last warning. If it was up to me, your warning would be the beating I want to give you, but you’re getting a warning instead.”
He raises his eyebrows. “That’s supposed to scare me?”
“No, dumbass,” I say. “It’s supposed to make it painfully obvious that you need to fuck off.” I lean forward so I’m close enough to smell the stink of his breath. “If I hear about you harassing Miley again, I’ll come back, and it’s not going to be for a warning. Understand me?”
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