by M. S. Parker
As long as Paige didn’t reveal my monetary contributions, I wouldn’t push the issue, but I was curious.
She was leaning against the front of the building when I arrived, absorbed in something on her phone, and I allowed myself a moment to appreciate how her skirt showed off her legs. Her hair was pulled up behind her head, a few waves left to frame her face, and the memory of my dream hit me hard. I could almost feel the silk of her hair across my palm.
This was going to be a long day.
But, apparently, a good one.
I didn’t have much time for things to think about my dream, or about the club I’d invited her to, because as soon as we walked into the building, she put me to work.
I talked to every veteran there, thanked them for their service, listened to the things that concerned them. And I shared about my father, how I remembered what it was like to say goodbye when he left for tours, somehow knowing – even as a kid – that he might not come back. I told them about the first time I remembered going to the airfield to pick him up, about answering the door when a pair of officers came to tell us that he wouldn’t be coming home again.
Talking about it wasn’t as difficult as I’d imagined.
I played requests, everything from “Happy Birthday” to “God Bless America” to “Sweet Home Alabama,” and for the first time in a long time – with the exception of playing for those kids – music was fun. And not just for me either. Everyone was smiling and laughing, including Paige and me.
For hours, I didn’t think about all the stupid things I’d done or what else I was going to need to do to get my career back on track. I even managed to keep from thinking too much about how much I wanted to drag Paige somewhere private and show her how good it would be to submit to me.
As things wound down, she and I finally had a couple minutes to stand back and breathe.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“Just doing my job.”
I reached over and grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away. “No, you could have set me up with some flashy publicity stunts and considered your job complete. You didn’t just gloss over what I’d done, give it a Band-Aid. You found things that I’d actually enjoy and be good at.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t need to change who you are, or re-vamp your image. People just needed a little reminder of why they liked you in the first place.”
“I needed the reminder too,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Thank you, again.”
For a brief moment, I thought we’d address the connection we couldn’t seem to shake, but then her phone rang, and it was over.
She turned to take the call, and I started to make my goodbyes. By the time she was done, I had a taxi waiting, and the two of us walked out together. I tried not to think of how similar this was to what had happened just a week before. I knew I couldn’t kiss her this time, and not only because the taxi didn’t offer us the same privacy. If I was going to see if the two of us could be something more, then I needed to play this right.
Which meant, as we pulled up in front of Paige’s apartment building, I leaned toward her. “About my reward…”
Twenty
Paige
Dress sexy, he’d said. He asked me to a club, told me to dress sexy, and then let the taxi carry him away. I’d spent most of the night wondering if I’d imagined it or if it had been some impulsive gesture that he’d immediately regretted. Then, this morning, he sent me a text, telling me when he’d be by to pick me up.
And I’d spent the rest of the day switching between trying to talk myself into canceling things and finding the perfect outfit.
By the time I finished my light dinner, I’d decided to see things through and then settled on a dress for the night. The most daring dress I’d ever owned. A deep, rich green, it made my eyes pop and my skin glow. It clung to every curve, had a daring neckline, and the length was short enough that I’d never been comfortable wearing it before. I’d never had anywhere to go where it’d seemed appropriate. Certainly not any work function.
This, though, wasn’t a work function. It didn’t matter that Reb had joked about it being a reward for his good behavior. We both knew we were crossing a line here. Going to an art show had been getting close to unprofessional behavior even before the incident in the limo, but a club…even before he’d said to dress sexy, I’d known it meant something more, though what, exactly, I didn’t know.
I buzzed him up and smoothed down some non-existent wrinkles as I waited for him to come to the door. My stomach was in knots, reminding me why I’d previously avoided this sort of thing, and the fact that I thought Reb was worth all this trouble freaked me out almost as much as the date itself. Maybe more, if I was being totally honest with myself.
Then I was opening the door and praying that I didn’t embarrass myself. The stunned expression on his face as he saw me calmed my nerves a bit. It wasn’t the type of shock that came with a condescending I never thought you could look that good statement, but rather the same sort of breathless oh that I had going on when I saw him.
He wore fitted pants that were either leather or denim but did amazing things for him either way. His shirt was short-sleeved and tight, emphasizing the muscles I’d felt the previous week while showing off the tattoos on his arms. He definitely looked more the bad-boy rock star tonight than the wealthy philanthropist, and even though I didn’t want it to, my body tightened in response.
“Damn…” he finally said.
His eyes had darkened to a shade of purple I hadn’t realized was even possible, and the heat in them turned my insides to liquid.
“Not so bad yourself,” I admitted, my voice shakier than I liked.
He grinned at that and held out a hand. “Shall we?”
I placed my hand in his and tried not to shiver. His fingers wrapped around mine, his grip firm, but not too tight. Neither of us spoke as we made our way down to the car he had waiting. It wasn’t a limo, but it was definitely nicer than anything I could’ve afforded.
Once we were settled into the back, the driver pulled away from the curb, and Reb poured me a glass of champagne. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I appreciated the chance to have something to take the edge off.
“After we get there,” he broke the silence, “if you’re uncomfortable, if you want to go, just tell me.”
I frowned. “Uncomfortable? I wasn’t raised Amish, Reb.” Why did people always assume that just because I was a virgin or because I wasn’t a social person, that I was sheltered?
He finished the rest of his drink and set his glass aside. “I can tell.” His eyes sparkled. “The dress gives it away.”
I laughed, and some of the tension in my chest eased. Not all of it though, because I was still trying to figure out why Reb thought a club would make me uncomfortable.
As soon as we passed through the short foyer and into the club itself, his reasoning became clear.
Because this wasn’t just some swanky private club; it was a sex club. Specifically, an S&M club, or a BDSM club, as was more accurate.
“Paige?”
I looked up to see Reb watching me with a concerned expression on his face. I raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to show me around, or should I find someone else to do it?”
His expression darkened, and he stepped closer to me. “You’re here with me, Paige.”
A little thrill went through me at his words. They should have bothered me, but something about them told me it wasn’t meant as an insult. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his role here. He carried himself with the sort of power that demanded attention, and it wasn’t only in his professional life. He drew people to him, and I wasn’t the only one who saw it, who felt it. Thanks to popular entertainment over the last few years, I knew the title for someone like that was Dominant.
He took my hand and tucked it tight against his side, taking me farther into the club. I felt eyes on us, and it wasn’t just my imagination. People moved around him,
smiling, dipping their heads. The looks I got were more curious than hostile, but there were a few people – men and women alike – who didn’t seem too pleased with my presence. No one said anything though.
Not that I would have noticed it if they had. A slow, seductive beat pulsed through the club, but it wasn’t the music that had my attention. No, I was trying to act like seeing leather-clad, chain-wearing couples grinding against each other was normal for me. Like the threesome on the stage wasn’t anything new.
Both men were bare-chested and wore black leather pants, but that was where the similarities ended. One was well over six feet tall and solid, like a linebacker. He was dark-haired, with a square, blunt-looking face. The other was shorter and slimmer, with pale hair and a narrow face.
The woman was tiny, probably even smaller than Sine, with piles of golden blonde hair, and pierced nipples. Which were both clearly visible beneath the sheer, shimmery dress she wore.
“Let’s get a seat to watch the show,” Reb said, putting his mouth next to my ear so I could hear him.
I nodded mutely. My brain was scrambling to put together all of the pieces I’d picked up over the last few weeks, and I couldn’t quite manage words at the moment. Aside from processing the Dominatrix orchestrating a scene between the two men and herself, I was also coming to the realization that the ‘club’ Savannah had mentioned as the way Jace had met the guys was this club, Gilded Cage.
That should have freaked me out. All of this should have freaked me out. But, as Reb sat us down on a short loveseat, I was strangely not freaked out. In fact, I was feeling oddly hopeful. Coming here, being a part of this world, it seemed to bring the others together. The women had said they’d worked with the guys before moving into less-than-professional relationships, and I didn’t doubt that this was a part of their lives now.
As Reb slid his arm around my waist and pulled me close, I let myself relax against his side and settled in to watch the show.
“Are you okay?”
Reb’s voice drew me out of my head where I’d been replaying the last few minutes at the club before we’d called it a night. The expression on the woman’s face when she’d come that last time, her body held between the two men, both of them inside her, fighting to hold back their own orgasms until she found her release…it had been nothing short of ecstasy, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel like that.
I nodded in answer to his question, not trusting myself to speak just yet.
“I didn’t freak you out, bringing you tonight, did I?” He tucked some hair behind my ear, his tone concerned, his touch gentle.
I shook my head.
“Then talk to me, Paige.”
I looked up at the name. “Just processing, that’s all.”
“Processing like you’re trying to figure out the best way to quit working on my account without looking bad to your boss, or processing like you’re trying to decide if you’re even safe with me at all?”
I blinked, his question startling an honest answer out of me. “Neither. Unless you want someone else working for you on this.”
“I should.” He sighed, then cupped the side of my face, his thumb brushing across the corner of my mouth. “Because work makes things…complicated.”
After a moment, I asked, “Complicated as in you don’t know how to break it to me you don’t like the work I’m doing, or complicated as in there are other things you’d like us to be doing together?”
He slid his hand around to cup the back of my head. “Complicated as in I want you to come back to my place tonight.”
My mind ran through all of the things I’d seen over the last few hours. Floggers. Some sort of electric wand thing. A strap-on. Handcuffs. Safe words. I had no doubt that going back to his place meant sex, and probably not the vanilla kind that most women experienced for their first time. I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t pressure me into anything I wasn’t willing to do, but if I did this, I didn’t want it to become about him feeling like he had to worry about each step, especially since I knew he had misgivings about being my first.
All of this went through my head in a matter of seconds, probably because I’d already been thinking about it most of the night. This wasn’t like before when I’d been shocked by the feel of him touching me, kissing me. Now, I knew what it was like to have his mouth and hands on me, and I knew that I wanted more.
I slid my hands across his chest and up his shoulders, letting myself enjoy the way he felt. I rested my forearms on his shoulders and laced my fingers together behind his neck.
“I want that too.”
The butterflies in my stomach were back again. After I’d admitted to Reb that I wanted to go with him, I’d expected things to get hot and heavy like they had before, but he’d surprised me with a single kiss. Granted, that kiss had been enough to make my panties even wetter than they already were, but there’d been no touching on his part. Me? I’d taken full advantage of the opportunity to explore as many muscles as I could.
Now, I was in his bedroom, watching him take off his shirt, and trying to pretend that my heart wasn’t trying to jump out of my chest. He unbuttoned his pants but stopped short of removing them, instead, letting them hang low on his hips as he walked toward me.
His eyes locked with mine as he turned me around and moved my hair over my shoulder. He kissed the place where my shoulder met my neck, a gentle gesture that surprised me. Once the zipper was down, I let the dress fall to the floor before stepping out of it. My bra went next, and he wrapped his arms around me, fingers teasing across my nipples until they hardened. Then his hands dropped to my hips, and he lowered my panties until they, too, were on the floor.
“You’re even more beautiful than I’d imagined,” he said, breath hot against my ear. “And I’ve done quite a bit of imagining.”
I turned around and took a small step back. I locked gazes and reached for his pants, each movement deliberate as I waited for some sort of command. It didn’t come, though, so I went to my knees on my own. He uttered a low curse as I tugged his pants down his thighs, then dropped my eyes to focus on the long, thick shaft in front of me.
“You don’t have to do this.” His voice was rough, his entire body tense.
“Trust me,” I said, licking my lips. “I want to.”
I wrapped my hand around the base of him, holding him steady as I flicked my tongue across the tip of him, tasting the salt of sweat and pre-cum. He groaned as I began to lick him, long passes with the flat of my tongue from the very bottom to the top, swirling passes and teasing touches, each one getting him slippery enough so that I could begin to move my hand.
I’d never done this before, but I considered myself a fast learner. So, as I stroked him with firm, slow movements, I took the head of his cock into my mouth and let it slide over my tongue.
Now it was time to see how far I could go.
Twenty-One
Reb
She was going to kill me.
I was going to die with my cock being deep-throated by the sexiest virgin I’d ever seen, and all before I got the chance to show her just how good sex could be.
That thought was enough to prod me into action. I reached down and buried my hand in that thick, silky hair of hers, and with a reluctant groan, pulled her back. My cock slipped out of her mouth with an obscene, wet sound.
“Did I do something wrong?” Her voice was low, husky.
A part of me wondered what she would sound like if I took control and fucked her mouth, how long her voice would be rough from me using her the way a part of me wanted to.
“Not at all,” I said, caressing her cheek. “But I don’t want to come in your mouth.” I traced her bottom lip with my thumb. “Not yet, anyway.”
I took her hand, helped her to her feet, and then led her over to the bed. I opened my mouth, intending to tell her how I wanted her…and then I realized that I didn’t know what to say.
Dammit! I was a Dom. Control an
d knowing what to do were part of who I was, but I didn’t know how to be in control without being a Dom.
“Are you okay?” Paige asked, concern replacing the heat and lust I’d seen in her eyes just a few seconds ago.
I nodded, giving her a partial smile. “I’m just not sure how I want you.”
“Don’t overthink it.”
She sat down on the edge of the mattress and pushed herself back until she was in the middle of the bed. She laid back on the pillows and parted her legs. As I watched, she slid her hand down her stomach. The heat in her eyes was back, as was the sexual tension in the room. Her fingers slipped over her pink, glistening skin, and then between her folds.
“Or should I just take care of things myself?”
I growled, and for a moment, I wanted to tell her that I was going to take her over my knee, because no one touched what was mine.
And she was mine.
But if I wanted her to be mine, and keep her mine, I couldn’t risk scaring her away.
“You don’t need to do that,” I said as I crawled up on the bed. “Because I intend to take care of you.” I hooked her legs over my shoulders and settled there. “Now, my Paige, move your hand.”
She tasted just as good as she had that night in the limo and came just as fast, but I wasn’t satisfied with giving her only one orgasm. I needed to make her come, needed to take her so high that she’d never want anyone else. I tightened my grip on her thighs and took her clit between my lips, sucking hard enough to roll her first climax into a second. She writhed as she moaned and gasped, her hands in my hair, and I worked on getting her to number three.
I would have been content to lay there for hours, but she began to pull at my hair, begging, “Please, Reb.”