Safeword (The Decadence Club Book 3)

by Alyssa Clark

  “Point made.” He looked amused as he said it. “What do you want to know?”

  Now that he was giving me the opportunity to question him I drew a blank. Maybe it was because he put me on the spot. I fidgeted and shoved a fork full into my mouth. I chewed as I struggled to think of a question, anything to ask him. Finally, something came to me that I hadn’t considered up to this point. “Why did you insist that we do this?” I gestured between us with my free hand, so there was no doubt as to what I was talking about.

  He didn’t acknowledge me immediately, he was taking his time to finish up the asparagus he had ordered with his meal. It didn’t get irritating until the silence stretched to the point that I could hear the older man beside us going on about his golf game.

  “Perhaps…” he paused to dab at his mouth with his napkin. “Perhaps it's a similar reason that your friends are drawn to you, despite the shortcomings that you feel that you have?”

  Things seemed to go easier after that. The small talk didn’t get easier, but it didn’t seem like he was trying to strive for any sort of asshole front. It was harder to get comfortable with the situation, but I could see his appeal. He was attractive, he had a nice body, and any time I saw him he was always well dressed. But any conversations we had before tonight hadn’t been this kind of personal.

  He walked me to the curb and waited as the valet went to fetch my car. I was surprised that I had enjoyed myself, food aside.

  “All of this,” he hummed beside me, “and we didn’t even talk about your limitations.” He had a hand in one pocket and was turned slightly towards me as he spoke, his eyes were darker as he looked me up and down. “Tomorrow, we will discuss what you had in mind for limitations.”

  My battered little car pulled up in front of us, and I grimaced, trying to ignore that it stood out like a sore thumb. “I’ll make sure I make a good list to give you.” I turned towards him and offered him a hand awkwardly. It was like I was trying to treat this like it was a business meeting instead of a date.

  Michael snorted in amusement and took my hand anyway. “I will see you tomorrow night. At the club opening. Don’t leave me waiting.” He kept my hand, turning it he brought it up to his face. “Remember the rules. You look good in this. Wear something like this again, and I might have a good reward for you.” He brushed a kiss against my knuckles. “Good night, Charlie.”

  “Good night,” I said with a flush that I couldn’t help. I took my keys. I found myself looking back at him while I got into my beater. He didn’t look away. Instead, he watched me with something that looked like appreciation.

  But that couldn’t be right. Someone couldn’t look at me like that.

  Should I have kissed him?

  13

  Friday came and went faster than I was prepared for, but the feeling I had wasn’t something akin to apprehension like it had been with our previous meetings. Instead, I was struggling to do my best to look like something that might be considered attractive. For some reason, I felt like I had to be appealing.

  It was hard to understand since it was apparent that sex was a guaranteed thing.

  The hardest part was remembering his demand from the last time we were in the club. It wasn’t until I was in the parking lot of the club that I realized I still had my bra and panties on. I’d even made an effort to make sure they matched. The panties were easy enough to wiggle out of, since wearing the same skirt I wore on our date. My bra, on the other hand, involved a special kind of contortion that I didn’t think I was capable of. As soon as it was off, I was worried about the fact that the girls were unbound and free swinging.

  Let me put it to you like this, I needed my bra. If I walked too fast without one on I was likely to hurt myself. Maybe sprain something. Could you sprain a boob? I didn’t want to find out.

  So, I trotted to the door with an arm over my breasts to keep them under some kind of control. As soon as I was in the club, I was so eager to find Michael that I stopped worrying about the extra bounce the girls had in favor of searching for him. He was at the bar, seeming to already be into a drink when I approached him.

  Anxiety had me fidgeting when it came time to get his attention. Should I tap his shoulder? Clear my throat?

  The bartender, a slender darker-skinned man with a flirty smile, came into view and he saw me. He probably saw my indecision as well. He gave me a smile. “You have a lady friend trying to get your attention, Master.”

  Michael straightened and gave the bartender a nod before he turned to me. A smile curled across his lips as soon as he looked me up and down, it made my heart race. “Have a seat, Charlie.” He gestured to the stool next to him with a tumbler he had in hand. “Have a drink with me.”

  I shifted from foot to foot uneasily, I was so ready to go find a room with him. Having a drink was the last thing on my mind. There was a sexy way to ask this, right? I took a breath, “Wouldn’t you rather go somewhere…” I trailed off, and my stomach knotted up at the thought of what he might think of me. “Private?”

  He laughed a little and didn’t get up, so I assumed that my attempt at being sexy was a failure. “As much as I would like to fuck you, we have some things to talk about first. You mentioned you had some limitations, some things you didn’t want me to do to you. Right?” He took a sip of the brown liquor in his glass. “No butt stuff was one of those things if I’m not mistaken.”

  I could feel my face burning. He didn’t yell it, but he kept his volume at a high enough level that anyone could hear what he was saying. I sat down quickly, hoping to make it less obvious that it was me who he was talking to. “Yeah.” There was no hiding my blush.

  The bartender lingered close by, I considered ordering a drink but decided against it. I gave a slight shake of my head and directed my attention to him. He was leaned back against the bartop and watched me with a look that made me wonder why he insisted we stay in the open part of the club.

  “Does that mean it’s completely off limits?” He asked with a smirk, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but there was something about his expression that gave me clue enough that it was on his mind.

  I grimaced at him. “I’m not comfortable with pushing that boundary. I’ve never done anything … as extreme.” I didn’t know how to tell him just what I was willing to do, elaborating was something I didn’t excel at.

  “So that completely rules out any and all penetration?”

  If my face could get any redder, I'd put a stop sign to shame. “I-I I,” I was stuttering. “I don’t know.”

  His expression went serious, and he turned so that he was facing me instead of the room. He leaned forward so that there was at least it seemed like fewer people would be privy to our conversation. “Were you a virgin that first night?”

  At first, I felt a little offended that he asked, only it made sense that he asked. I took a breath and decided it would be better to just shake my head. It was the truth.

  He tilted his head as he contemplated me, looking as if he might not believe me. That led to the next question that made me just as uncomfortable as the previous one. “How many people have you been with?” Curiosity had replaced any sort of sexual interest.

  I couldn’t say that it was a question I was expecting, but I felt myself bristle at it. “That’s not really your business.” I didn’t exactly snap, but my tone wasn’t polite either. I turned to the bar and waved to the slight man behind it. When he came to me, I ordered a red wine that I didn’t even bother to know the name of. I sipped it without a real thought of the flavor.

  It didn’t deter him at all, he leaned in closer so that he was against my side. I could feel his breath on my ear as he spoke, “If you want anything from me you will answer my question. I’m not going to waste my breath or my time on someone that isn’t going to trust me enough to give me just a little bit of personal information.”

  I stayed seated forward, I was afraid to face him with as close as he was. I was, also, afraid he’d see just how mu
ch I wanted him and how much I was afraid of his judgment. “One,” I said into my wine glass.

  “What?” There was a note of disbelief in his voice.

  “I said, one.” I pulled away to stand. “I’ve only ever been with one other man,” I only gave him a side glance, I was so ready to run away I nearly fell in my hurry to get off the bar stool. The only thing that saved me from hitting the floor in a room full of people was the quick hands that caught me.

  Michael’s hand had a firm grip on my upper arm, just at the armpit, so he had a grasp on just how much I’d been sweating during this entire conversation. He had stood with me, whether it was to catch me or to stop me from leaving, I didn’t know. I was still grateful that the only people that even looked our way were the bouncers. The dark haired one that I had the pleasure of seeing shirtless when I met with Ms. Winters narrowed his eyes at us.

  Now we had an audience.

  “Your trust issues,” he grumbled as he made sure I was steady, “are starting to become unattractive.” He didn’t sit back down, looking as if he would prefer to eye me. “I asked because you’re so inexperienced. You want to set limitations on something you’ve never felt before. How do you know you don’t like it if you don’t try it? Plus,” he released my arm as he spoke, his hand came up instead to cup my cheek. My heart began to race by the simplest touch it seemed, “If you want me to do anything with you, you’re going to have to be willing to give me at least a little trust.”

  “I’ve only been with one other person,” I repeated after a length. I could have kept it to myself, but then there was an increased chance that not opening up to him would lead to me going home unsatisfied.

  When did I start revolving around just sex?

  He looked bemused and took my hand in his before he led me to the door instead of the hallway. I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment when we hit the warm night’s air.

  “I think it's in our best interest to continue as we have, anything you dislike you can use the safeword to stop. We’ll make a list of the things that you don’t like versus what you do. After our last two times together think about what it was that you liked and text them to me. The same for what you didn’t like.” He paused with us turned in the direction of the parking lot. “Don’t let embarrassment keep you from telling me the gritty details. If I don’t know what you don’t like I can’t prevent myself from doing it again.”

  It seemed reasonable enough, I couldn’t argue with him. I couldn’t keep my face from burning either. “Yes, sir,” I said as I nodded with a hope that he would lead me back into the club. The air in the club was charged with other people’s lust, and it was infectious; that was the only explanation I could think of.

  He disappointed me by stepping closer and pressing a kiss to my lips. It was gentle and chaste, not at all what I needed it to be. It ended just after his tongue swiped across my bottom lip, doing nothing more than to add to my hunger. “Tomorrow, I will fuck you. Tonight I had something come up. So, let’s do this,” he gestured to my outfit, “again.”

  “Why?” Damn me for not being able to ask for sex from anyone else.

  “Because, the effort you made here makes my dick hard,” he growled at me. “You look so fucking good that I have to make myself walk away right now. Do you have any idea how damn hard it is just to untie you?” He gave my ass a slap, hard enough to make me jump. “Do your homework, or I’m going to take my time beating this.”

  He left me standing by the door, just inside the harsh fluorescent light. I watched him adjust himself as he walked, giving me a glance over his shoulder. At least it showed me that I wasn’t the only one affected.

  14

  Friday night started a dynamic I could work with. With Michael letting me say embarrassing things via text, it was easier for me to work through. It was also time-consuming to type it all out with my thumbs, but I made it work. I wasn’t actually verbalizing what I wanted and what I didn’t want so it was easier for me to do.

  The fact that I readily did my ‘homework’ led to a reward that had me aching the next day. A pleasant ache, not to say he didn’t spank me. For some reason that wasn’t something I could get out of, but it was something I was adjusting to. The pain wasn’t too much, and it wasn’t as off-putting as it was the first time he spanked me. Immediately after he was done with it, he was quick to bring me to a height that left me dizzy.

  “There’s a euphoria that pain creates,” Liz said as she loitered in my cube. “I think there’s something to making orgasms more intense after you’ve hung out on the threshold of pain.” She was in her usual seat, eyeing the tips of her hair so she could pick out the split ends. “I like your commentary with the article. It’s funny as well as educational and sexy. Has Simon said anything about it?”

  “Not yet.” I gave her a glance before going back to the article I was proofing. “I’m kind of hoping that he’ll just publish it and I won’t have to deal with anymore uh… innuendo? Was that what he was doing?”

  “No, he was trying to low key slimeball, and he failed hard.” She looked angry just talking about it. “He assumed you were slutty and it's obvious you're not. Don’t you dare let anyone make you feel like that simply because you’re doing this,” she said it in a hard, demanding voice that made me look back at her. Her brows were drawn down, and I could see, now, how she was able to sway people as a dominant. “This, at most, is an experiment for you. It doesn’t define you as a person.”

  “Someone called you a slut?” I asked, there was no other reason I could think as to why she would be so adamant about it. I frowned as I looked hard at her, I couldn’t imagine her taking anything like that.

  “I’ve been called worse.” She rolled her shoulder as she played it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “I just didn’t want you to feel like because you’re writing about something sexual that it is going to judge your overall character.” She sighed a little. “Part of doing this casually means you’re not committed to a relationship. And you know how people can get when it comes to women having casual sex.”

  “I’m not really having casual sex.” I turned back to my monitor, trying to look as if I weren’t getting embarrassed by this conversation. “I’m with the same guy every time.”

  “Oh?” There was something to her tone that set me on edge. “So, you're in a relationship with this guy then?”

  That gave me pause. He took me to dinner, he paid. That was a date right? Being with my lack of experience with relationships, outside of the few friendships I had, I didn’t know for sure. I didn’t answer her, I decided to just focus on the blur of words in front of me. Fortunately for me, Liz didn’t press for details.

  “If it’s something you want from him, you need to be honest.” She stood and took the time to straighten her blouse. “Don’t let him step on your feels, babe. You have been a badass without a man for this long, you can continue being a badass.” She turned and walked out after she finished the last bit of pep she had to give me.

  I wasn’t going to see Michael again until one of his demanded dates.

  I was beginning to damn myself for wanting the distance, for needing more. I thought about him in a way that I’d not thought of anyone else. There were warm fuzzies, and there was something I’d definitely describe as lust. Maybe, before I put too much into what is going on between us, I should talk to him about it.

  It was a good idea to see what he wanted, right?

  15

  He started me on a routine that I easily fell into, all the while questioning just how I felt about it and what I wanted from it. With each date, each one held at a fancy restaurant that I would otherwise never be able to afford to eat at, I could feel him wheedling more information from me. He was trying to get to know me, and I couldn’t figure out why.

  I was too afraid to ask, the idea of being wrong lodged any question I might have in my throat. The fear of rejection kept me from asking if this was, indeed, a relationship. I decided that I would enjoy it
, I’d enjoy his company and affections. If he decided to end it, I’d face that when it came. But until then I would take what I could get and use every bit of it for inspiration.

  With the first two articles being set with the education of safe words and limitations, I decided to use the next two to air out the lists he had made me give him. I expressed my dislikes in one article, trying my best keep everything in range of a PG-13 audience until Liz corrected me.

  “We publish sex articles all the time.” She turned her nose up at me as she leaned on the wall of my cube. “There’s no reason to pull the punches, be blunt. Put on your big girl panties and write like you’re talking about kinky sex.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind for the next one,” I muttered. Honestly, it was something I should have known better anyway. I read the majority of the articles we published anyhow.