“Thank you, Felicia.” He accepted his wallet, pinched her chin between his thumb and finger—a hauntingly familiar gesture—then turned, summarily dismissing her. Felicia’s smile slipped a bit as she went back inside.
“What happened to Allison?” That was the girl who’d come after Livvy.
“Allison and I parted ways about a year ago. So, about those friends, John Stanton always found you attractive. I could—”
He really was a bastard. How had she been so blind?
“Didn’t we attend John’s fiftieth birthday party while we were together?”
“I believe we did. He is still a very vibrant man and active in the BDSM community.”
That made him at least fifty-five by her guess. She stared at him for a moment. “You do realize that while she’s buying her first legal drink you’ll be attending your thirtieth high school reunion?”
“Don’t be petty, Olivia. Your number?”
She frowned at him, mystified that she ever found him attractive. “I’m seeing someone.”
“Are you now?” The inflection in his statement said he was doubtful. “Last I heard you were a club girl. I thought I taught you better than that.” He patted his pockets as if searching for a pen. “I’ll put it in my phone.”
No… hell, no! At least that was what she wanted to say, but after years of intimidation, she couldn’t quite muster the balls she needed to do that. So, she repeated coolly, “Again, I’m seeing someone. I have to go.”
Done with the conversation, she moved away, but he grabbed her arm, swinging her back.
“Please, don’t touch me.”
“Olivia, if it helps, you were my favorite.”
“Let me go.” She tugged at her arm, but he held fast.
“So responsive, more than any submissive I’ve had before or since.” He said this as if she hadn’t spoken, but that didn’t surprise her. He often ignored her, preferring to hear himself speak. “But time marches on for all of us,” he continued, oblivious to her attempts to break free, “and things change.”
“You know, I have one big regret.”
Full of pretention, as if he was God’s gift to the submissives of this world, he said smugly, “You loved me, I know. And the way it ended, I—”
She finally snapped, her voice rising to near a shout. “No, you arrogant prick. My regret is ever having met you in the first place.” She yanked her arm from his grasp, which had tightened painfully at her name-calling. “I rue that blackest of days. Do me a favor. If our paths ever cross again, have the courtesy to pretend we never met.”
Proud of herself for not breaking down, she turned and with an air of composure she didn’t feel, managed to make it to her car without looking back. Once inside, she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw him looking after her. From this distance, she could see his anger, evident by the ruddiness in his face. That she’d rattled him with the ugly scene gave her a small sense of satisfaction. With nervous fingers, she started her car and steered it toward home, seeing a large glass of alcohol in her imminent future.
Fifteen minutes later, she was pulling into Joseph’s drive when her phone rang. With a brief glance at the screen, she saw it was him and promptly ignored the call. If he knew she had, he’d be incensed, but she wasn’t poised enough to talk to him yet. After a glass of wine, maybe two, she might be up to it, but not now. Her voice mail alert sounded as she pulled into the garage. A text soon followed.
Joseph: I’m at the gym and you are not. Court went very late and my phone died. My apologies, pet, but I’m glad you didn’t wait. I’m going to swim my laps and will be home directly after.
In a few minutes, after pouring a burgundy glass full to the brim with a sweet red, she sent her reply.
Livvy: Sounds like a stressful day. Enjoy your swim. I have a headache and am going straight to bed. See you in the morning.
She ended it with a heart emoji as always. After a large mouthful of wine, she topped off her glass, carrying it along with the rest of the bottle to the master bath to fill the Jacuzzi tub
*****
A warm body against her back, the gentle glide of a hand over the curve of her hip and the prickle of sunlight against her eyelids pulled her from sleep. Livvy arched into a long morning stretch, but the shooting pain in her head cut it short. Her hand flew to her forehead as she groaned.
“Did you drink the entire bottle?” His voice was gruff from sleep and not overly loud, but it was enough to hurt her alcohol abused brain.
“No,” she whispered back in denial.
“Livvy,” he replied with a skeptical tone. “The empty bottle was on the counter.”
“The last bit I poured down the sink to prevent having another glass in a moment of inebriated weakness.”
“Because I was late? I’m sorry for that, but surely you understand—”
“No.” She twisted to face him. “When you were late, I was worried that something was wrong, but that wasn’t it. I had a really bad day.” Livvy pressed her pounding forehead against his chest. “Today isn’t starting out so great either.”
“A wine hangover is worse than anything. I’ll get you some aspirin and water.” He started to roll away.
“Wait. Hold me a minute first?” She knew she sounded pathetic, but having his arms around her would go farther than aspirin ever could. As his long arms enveloped her, she let slip a ragged sigh.
“Tell me what happened.” His order rumbled in his chest beneath her ear. She’d do anything to avoid talking about it and snuggled deeper into him, nuzzling against the warm smooth skin beneath her cheek. “No stalling,” he warned.
Burying her face in his neck, her voice came out muffled. “I ran into Vaughn Steros at the fitness center.”
He stiffened. “I thought he was teaching in Chicago.”
“So did I, but apparently, he’s back. I’d like to think the co-eds at Northwestern sent him packing. They must have more intelligence than those at UT. He was with a new one who didn’t look old enough to drink yet.”
“He upset you enough to down a bottle of wine. Do you still have feelings for him, Livvy?”
“Yes, anger, disgust, loathing.” She propped her forearm on his chest and looked down at him. “No good feelings, Joseph, I swear. Mostly I’m angry at myself for falling for such a prick—excuse my French—and throwing two years of my life away.”
“What did he say to you?”
“The usual demeaning remarks.”
“He got to you.” His arms tightened.
Her hand rose to push back her tangled mass of hair. Suddenly, he caught her wrist, stretching out her arm. “What the fuck, Livvy! He put his hands on you?”
She followed his eyes to the ring of bruises around her upper arm. Four finger marks and a thumb print were clearly visible. Her fingers came up to probe the discolored skin gently, hissing at an especially tender spot.
“I’m gonna kill the bastard.”
“No, you’re not,” she replied firmly. “Although I appreciate the bloodthirstiness on my behalf, he’s a jerk from my past and you can’t kill them all.” Her hand rose to his cheek. “I met a lot of jerks before I met you, Joseph. Thank you for breaking the streak.”
“I hate that I wasn’t there to beat his ass, at least.”
“I got in a few good licks of my own, a few verbal kicks in the ass, if you will. I was very proud of myself.”
“You stood up to him?”
“Even better, I hit him where it hurts. I called him old.”
“I’m still going to kill him.”
“Joseph, please, he isn’t worth it. Besides, who’d hold me if you’re on death row for murder? This is Texas, you know. That there’s a hangin’ offense in these parts, pardner.”
Her attempt at lightening the mood fell flat as his eyes searched her face intently. He nodded. “All right, because you asked, I won’t kill the bastard. I’ll ruin him instead.”
Chapter Thirteen
Joseph fume
d for days after the incident, blaming himself for not being on time and being there to defend her. Each time he saw the bruises on her arm was a haunting reminder of what he considered a personal failure. He was gentle with her, planting tender kisses on the discolored skin at every opportunity. They had faded by the following weekend along with most of Joseph’s anger and outrage, no longer brooding over the disturbing event every day. He was, however, more vigilant with her safety and became much more protective.
Another week passed without incident. Although Livvy wanted to switch gyms or not go at all, Joseph was able to coax her back and much to her relief, they’d had no further Vaughn sightings.
By the end of the work week, they were ready to unwind and made plans to travel back to San Antonio. Emma and David’s guest visit had been approved so the couple joined them. Since it was Friday, and Elena’s night off, the lounge and bar were busy but not bursting at the seams as on her prior visits. It was a different story when they entered the jam packed playroom where apparently all two hundred members were in attendance. Livvy closely watched her friends’ initial reactions to the Decadence dungeon. Awestruck, Emma’s eyes were as round as saucers while David’s darted around the room trying to take everything in at once.
“Did I look like that, Master?” she whispered to Joseph with a grin.
He glanced at their guests and smiled indulgently. “I think everyone does when they get their first look.”
The sights, sounds and smells of BDSM play charged the room, exhilarating the senses. The scents of leather and sex permeated the air. The discordant sounds of erotic play combined to produce a unique sort of music, the groans of passion providing the vocals, the thwacks and thuds of floggers and paddles adding rhythm, as the cries of erotic pain filled in the background. Everywhere she looked couples were engaged in some sort of kinky play.
Like her last visit, a couple performed under the spotlight on the elevated stage in the middle of the room. This time, wooden stocks were set up, a male submissive imprisoned within them. His Domme, a voluptuous platinum blonde in red leather, vigorously pumped her hips and rode him hard with a strap-on from behind. He cried out every time she laid her leather strap across his already red buttocks.
Livvy who was still stunned by the blatant sex on display turned to see David and Emma’s response. Both stood bugged-eyed and slack jawed in shock. She tugged on Joseph’s hand to get his attention.
When he saw their stupefied expressions, he chuckled. “Didn’t I mention our private dungeon has no restrictions on sex or bare genitals like the public clubs do?”
“Uh, no,” David replied, his lips turning up in a rapt grin. “I think I would have remembered that part.”
“Holy cow,” Emma murmured, trying to recover, but her mouth still stood agape. “David, Sir,” she breathed. “If we didn’t get a private room for tonight, I might need to visit the bar first.”
Livvy giggled. “Joseph has you covered. He reserved the Sultan’s Chamber for you.” She looked at her friend. “It’s the most popular theme room. I’ve never been, but I’ve heard all about it. You’re gonna love it.”
“Your reservation is in thirty minutes,” Joseph added, “so there’s time for the nickel tour.”
Walking the circuit, which was what the members called the open walkway between the roped off stations that lined the perimeter of the vast playroom, he pointed out the less common pieces of bondage equipment and devices as they made their way to the stairs at the back of the room. After Joseph introduced them to the Dungeon Monitor controlling access to the upper level, they parted ways with David leading a giddy Emma upstairs while Joseph guided Livvy to the station he had reserved.
In minutes, she was bound to a St. Andrew’s cross facing the sizable Friday night crowd. The only barrier to her nudity the minuscule G-string that she knew would be history very shortly. As Livvy looked out at the members gathering beyond the red velvet ropes in anticipation of their scene, she noted many were younger, thinner, and by her discerning eye, much more beautiful. Spurred by Vaughn’s recent comments, long held self-doubts, which clung to her consciousness like scars on her soul, crept in and her anxieties grew.
Reflexively, she pulled at her wrist cuffs, which held firm. Joseph rose from a crouch, where he had been restraining her ankles wide apart leaving her open and vulnerable. His perceptive gaze scanned her face, astutely identifying her unease. In shirtsleeves and khaki trousers, his linen sport coat and tie having been discarded for their session, he leaned in, placing a reassuring hand on her hip.
“You’re on edge, little one. A certain amount of apprehension is expected, but you’re working yourself into a panic. Slow your breathing.”
“Can’t we get a room upstairs, Master?”
“No, they’re all booked tonight and we gave ours to David and Emma. Focus on calming your mind, Livvy.”
“I’m trying.” Her attention was drawn to the crowd that had grown to three or four behind the ropes.
His hand at her jaw guided her face forward until only he filled her vision. “What’s this really about?”
Her lashes lowered, not wanting to disappoint him. She shook her head. “It’s fine.”
“That bastard really did a number on you. You’re thinking about what he said, aren’t you?”
She grimaced. He was too perceptive.
“Look at me, Livvy.”
Her eyes opened and met his concerned gaze, his face so close she could see the tiny flecks of gold and brown scattered throughout the green of his irises. As he spoke, his sweet-scented breath brushed her mouth, his lips a mere whisper away. Passion filled his words as he spoke with searing intensity.
“You’re gorgeous, in both face and form, every square inch of you inside and out. So much so, that I want to show you off. I want the members, both new and long since jaded, to witness the beauty of your submission. You are the epitome of that beauty in the way you respond to me. It’s in the swelling of your breasts at the sound of my voice, the quiver in your belly as you anticipate my touch, and when you come, the rapturous expression on your face is nothing short of breathtaking. That’s something to revel in and I’d like to share it on occasion. Can you give me that, pet?”
She sought the truth in his eyes and found it shining as steadfast and clear as the brightest star in the sky. That he believed she was beautiful was all that mattered to her. Her head nodded vigorously. “I want to give you that, Master.”
“And I’m honored by the gift, Livvy.” Whisper soft, his lips touched hers. “Would a blindfold help?”
“I think it might.”
“I have one in my bag.” Another kiss followed, quick but filled with passion. “Be right back.”
He stepped away, bending to his bag on the floor. While she waited, she closed her eyes, blocking out the avid voyeurs and focusing only on what Joseph planned next.
“Gorgeous, albeit a little hefty and long in the tooth.” Gasps of outrage from the onlookers sounded as her eyes flew wide. Immediately, she found the speaker in the crowd, his face twisted into a derisive sneer. It was Vaughn, standing no more than four feet away.
Feelings of inadequacy rushed over her in a torrent of self-doubt. She jerked at her bindings, wanting only to cover herself and hide from his judgements and spiteful criticisms. Overwhelming panic set in and she did the only thing she could think of.
“Red! Joseph. Red!”
In less than a second, he was beside her. “I’m here, Livvy. You’re safe.” His reassuring voice and his hand at her waist eased her to a certain degree, but not enough. She wanted Vaughn gone, or to be gone herself.
She felt his eyes on her briefly, then he turned his head sharply, searching the crowd. The members were all staring at her ex-Dom with censorious glares. Stepping back, they were giving him a wide berth, so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had spoken the harsh insults.
“That’s the son of a bitch, isn’t it?” Joseph confirmed needlessly, his voice s
haking with barely contained rage.
A woman’s voice, familiar and soft, offered, “I’ll stay with her, Master J, if you’d like to deal with that pig.”
“Get her down, Mara. This won’t take long.”
What happened next was a sight to see. Livvy watched in awe as Joseph hurdled the velvet ropes and in a flash had Vaughn by the throat. Having at least six inches in height on the worm, his fists in his collar lifted him off the floor. With impressive strength, Joseph slammed him against the nearest wall.
“What’s this about?” Master Sean demanded, seeming to materialize out of nowhere. At his back, was Megan’s big Dom, both were wearing DM badges.
“This piece of shit had the gall to talk to my sub while in scene. He insulted her. He’s also the son of a bitch who abused her. I want him out—permanently.”
“You can’t do that. I merely made an observation.”
“Not true,” someone in the crowd called out. “He was deliberately rude.”
“He insulted her, out of hand,” said another, “in a most insolent tone and manner.”
“I heard it all.” This came from a woman who Livvy recognized as the Domme from the scene on center stage earlier. Her sub, who towered above his diminutive Mistress, was standing protectively in front of her as if ready to do battle. She had a small hand on his bicep, stroking it in a calming manner. “It’s appalling, really, that any Dom at Club Decadence would treat another’s sub so disrespectfully. I second Master Joseph’s motion. He needs to go, now, and not return.”
“Demeaning submissives isn’t something we tolerate,” Cap said with authority. “Unless you’re implying that it was part of a planned scene. Were you invited to play out a humiliation session, by chance?”
“No,” he snapped. “As if—”
Whatever he intended to say was cut off by Joseph’s hand tightening around his neck.
“Who are you to throw me out?” Vaughn barely managed to choke out the words, wheezing as he protested.
Hooked (Decadence Nights Book 1) Page 12