by BJ Wane
Eve found it difficult to listen to what he was saying when his hands were arousing her to a feverish pitch, his touch effectively erasing the traumatic events of last night. "Yes, I know, but can you scold me later?" she got out before dropping her head between her outstretched arms, surrendering to both him and the pleasure.
"No." Nate ran a distracting finger down her crack as he loosened his own pants and slid his belt free. A teasing glide over her seam proved she was wet and eager for him, just like always, and had his cock springing free as soon as he lowered his zipper. "I love you, Eve, and with that comes a sense of possessiveness and protectiveness I've never felt towards another person. You have to accept that and the consequences that come with it if you worry me."
Eve was still absorbing his declaration when the first stroke of his belt snapped across her buttocks. The stinging pain and the warm, pulsating pleasure that quickly followed had her pushing her hips out for more, giddy excitement from his words adding to the thrill.
"That was for leaving last night without waiting for me." He landed the next stroke right below the first, his hand squeezing his cock as he tried to rein in his lust. "That one was for not trusting me." The third strike landed on the under curve of her buttocks, eliciting a soft moan from her. "That was for scaring ten years off my life." Nate dropped the belt, let go of his cock and sank to his knees behind her. Running his hands up her thighs, he soothed the first red slash with his tongue before saying, "This is because I let you down."
"No, no you didn't," Eve protested as he continued to run his tongue over the still smarting slashes. "I should have listened to you, to Carl and Mark… oh, God," she gasped softly when he ventured between her cheeks and licked over her anus on his way down to her pussy.
Using his thumbs, Nate spread her labia and licked up her slit, lightly stroking her swollen clit. "Admit you're mine," he demanded, ignoring her denial.
Eve whimpered when he left her hanging, aching for more. "Yes, I'm yours," she admitted without hesitation, never more sure of that than she was now. "Please, Nate."
Nate found her g-spot with a deep probing finger then teased her clit again, just until he tasted another gush of cream. "Mine to do with as I please, when I please, to take whenever, however I wish."
"Yes," she conceded, his low, guttural tone doing as much to drive her wild with need as his devious tongue and stroking finger.
This time he wrapped his lips around her clit, tickling her sensitive spot with his finger. Her juices coated his tongue as he suckled. As soon as her vagina tightened, he pulled back with an abruptness that had her cursing. "Mine to share if I want and you'll always remember that it's for your pleasure, not because I don't care."
"Yes, yes, just, please…"
Nate rose swiftly, grabbed her hips and sank balls deep into her quivering pussy. "Tell me what else I want to hear, Eve. I've waited long enough and my patience has worn thin." He pulled back slowly, pausing with his cockhead remaining just inside her snug sheath, waiting for her reply.
"I love you." Her reply came without reservation, the plunging force of his cock surging back inside her driving her to her toes. Her nipples met the cold window pane when he crowded her forward, his hands hard on her hips as he pounded into her over and over, each well-aimed thrust over her clit bringing her to a quick explosion of ecstasy. Even in the face of last night's revelations about Holly, Eve thought her future looked as bright as the twinkling lights of Richmond filling her vision.
The End
The second book of the Virginia Bluebloods series picks up where Blindsided leaves off. In Bind Me To You, Camille is on a mission to help her sister… a mission where she will do anything to keep her family safe. Of course, she never really expected that mission to include more than a little detective work and certainly never gave a moment's thought that it would involve Declan Whitmore and her heart.
I hope you enjoy this first chapter.
Bind Me To You
Virginia Bluebloods – Book Two
Chapter One
"Are you sure, Bethany?" Camille asked her sister, her gaze going from her computer to Bethany before shifting to her nephew, Joshua, who had his I-Pod blaring way too loudly in his ears despite the constant admonitions not to.
"It's the only listing for anything named The Warehouse." Bethany gnawed on her lower lip, her look anxious as she read about the private club where she suspected Joshua's father had a membership. "It's been ten years, Camie, but I distinctly recall the charge on the credit card bill was to The Warehouse in Richmond. It was after he walked out on us and I was pissed at the amount. Steve was only too happy to throw this club in my face, getting in another dig about how I couldn't satisfy his needs, especially now that I was saddled with a disabled child. Jerk."
Camille thought that was way too nice of a label to pin on Bethany's ex-boyfriend who left her two months after their son was born blind. In the last ten years, Steve Miller hadn't paid a dime towards Joshua's support, let alone acknowledged him in any way, which made his sudden demand for joint custody both appalling and suspicious. "Well, from what I've been able to gather, that jerk has the financial means to drag you to court and the influential support of his wealthy family. The question is why and why now?"
There wasn't anything Camille wouldn't do for both her sister and Joshua. Every time she looked at her nephew, she felt that tug on her heart, the one that reminded her of what could have been. Shoving aside her melancholy, she read what little information was available on The Warehouse's website. "Crap, this place is expensive," she muttered when she saw the astronomical annual membership fee. "Becoming a hotshot lawyer has certainly paid off if he can afford this place."
"Yeah, he seems to have no problem shelling it out for perverted sex but can't spare a dime for his son's needs. Fucking jerk."
Sitting next to her at her desk, Camille smiled, saying, "Better than just jerk, but still too tame. First class asshole would be a good start. It says here admittance into the private sector is by referral only or as a guest of a member, but we're in luck. Tonight the social room will be open to potential new patrons who wish to visit with some of the members, then ask for a visitor's pass into the private room for the evening if still interested."
"I don't know, maybe this isn't such a good idea, Camie. How do we know this place is safe?"
It was in a rather remote area of town even though it was located just a few blocks from Stockoe Slip. Once Richmond's commercial center along the canal basin on the James River where boats loaded their cargo, the old warehouses in the slip had been converted into shops and restaurants. The eclectic group of entrepreneurs who took on the massive renovation project had the foresight to preserve the Italianate-style brick and iron front buildings and the cobblestone streets and it was now one of Richmond's more popular meccas. This private club they suspected Steve belonged to was just far enough away from the shopping and dining district to give it some privacy, which was an understandable desirability from a member's viewpoint. However, the remoteness was questionable for Bethany. Camille knew no matter how desperate she was to get some kind of leverage to use against Steve in court, Bethany wouldn't risk endangering her.
"I'll be fine, Beth," Camille reassured her even though she cringed at the thought of going to such a place. It was all good and well to read and hear about places where people indulged publicly in all kinds of kinky sex, even to fantasize about participating in such decadent practices, but to go to a club, to see firsthand what people did in such places, was a different story. "All I need is to get one picture of him inside the sex club, hopefully doing something really kinky. The threat of exposing him should be enough to stop him from pursuing custody and screwing up Joshua's life. Our boy's gotten along just fine without Steve for ten years. He sure as hell doesn't need him now, especially since he's crazy about Mike."
"And Mike's just as crazy about him," Bethany said, thinking of her fiancé who wanted to adopt Joshua as soon as they marri
ed. "Only a few more months and we'll be married and can file for Mike to legally make Joshua his own; that is if Steve doesn't screw everything up."
"He won't. I'll go tonight and try to get someone to let me into the private club as a guest. Let's hope I get lucky and he's there tonight."
"And if he's not?"
"Then I'll go back next week, and the week after until I get what we need." Camille just hoped she wouldn't have to go too far once she gained admittance into the sex club before she got the proof she needed to stop Steve's custody suit. Participating was not an option for someone whose libido had been as dormant as Mount Rainier the past few years. An avid reader, not even her small stash of erotic romances had been able to arouse her into seeking more pleasure than what an occasional fifteen-minute session with her vibrator could give her.
Camille turned away from her computer when Joshua removed his headphones and looked towards them with an impish grin, his bright blue sightless eyes the only resemblance he bore to either his mother or his aunt. Whatever Steve's motivation was for attempting to claim his son years after abandoning him, she wasn't about to let anything sway her from trying to stop him from causing that child or her sister any more emotional distress.
"Miss Sawyer is going to be all over your case when she hears you've had those earphones cranked up again," Camille warned him, unable to resist going over and tousling his wavy dark brown hair. Eve Sawyer was his music teacher at the school for the blind he attended and Joshua was very fond of her, as was Camille. Since Camille picked Joshua up from school and kept him until Bethany got off from work at the hospital, she and Eve had become good friends and Joshua couldn't ask for a better mentor. She also prided herself on matching up her long-time friend, Nate Radcliff, with Eve and taking credit for their recent engagement.
"Not if you don't tell her," Joshua quipped.
"Sounds like you've got him over a barrel, Aunt Camie." Bethany picked up Joshua's bag and took his hand before hugging Camille. "Thank you," she whispered. "But, please be careful and call me as soon as you get home, no matter how late."
"I will," she promised, Bethany's choked up voice making her own throat tighten. "But if it's too late, I'll just text you."
"Okay. Let's go, Josh. Mike's taking us for pizza tonight."
Camille smiled when he let out an enthused whoop as they turned to leave. "Bye, Aunt Camie," he called back almost as an afterthought.
"See you Monday."
Camille returned to her desk and checked her e-mail one more time before shutting down her computer. No new messages meant she had the weekend free, wouldn't have to come in and see who was available for a new client. Providing out of town visitors, mainly men and women in the city temporarily for business, with someone to attend a social function with or to spend their free time with touring Richmond's attractions hadn't been her goal when she was a young, naïve English major. But meeting Greg Parsons and falling head over heels in love at the age of twenty-one with the thirty-year-old advertising executive had changed her life in more ways than one. Catering to his every whim, she thought nothing of asking one of her friends to accompany them, at his request, when he wanted to wine and dine a potential client, nor to dropping out of college her senior year to start up her current business at his insistence. "We may as well make some money on the side," he had said when he saw how pleased his clients were with their dates.
Now, ten years later, due to her profitable success with Escort, Inc., she still had the career Greg had wanted her to have, despite the end of their short, two-year marriage eight years ago. It had taken him leaving her without a backward glance right after she gave birth to their stillborn son for her to see she had only been a means to an end for her husband. "You've got the looks and body that'll appeal to any red-blooded man, but if you can't give me a son I have no more use for you," he cuttingly informed her before walking out. Within six months, he had replaced her with a twenty-year-old who gave him the son she now knew he wanted more than anything else and was the only thing he needed from a wife other than providing arm candy to flaunt in front of his business associates and clients. God, she had been so pathetic, not to mention stupid.
Swiveling her chair, she gazed out her big picture window and saw signs spring was right around the corner. Her office in a small strip mall had a great view of the park across the street where she could see the foliage turning green and a variety of small colorful buds just waiting to bloom in the flower beds strewn along the walking paths. Though still chilly, just those colorful hints warmer weather was right around the corner were enough to chase away the melancholy threatening to dampen her weekend. She had always admired her sister for the way she had bounced back so quickly after Steve's desertion of both her and Joshua. Why couldn't Camille do the same? It wasn't as if she was still grieving over her failed marriage or the loss of a child she never got the chance to love. She spent the first year after Greg divorced her going off the deep end, coping with her losses by drinking too much and chasing away the loneliness and grief with one night stands with strangers. Now, she spent all her time setting up dates for others, ignoring her own needs and desires in favor of being Joshua's favorite relative and keeping her scarred heart from risking any more damage.
It wasn't until Beth moved back to Richmond and bullied her into pulling her head out of her ass and Joshua's unconditional love showed her she hadn't lost everyone who mattered to her that she could let go of the past, but she still couldn't seem to drum up any enthusiasm for a relationship. Even her once very healthy sex drive seemed to have permanently deserted her, unlike Bethany who suffered also at the callous hands of her ex but still managed to find a great guy like Mike.
Bethany had been going to school in Petersburg when she met Steve and Camille had been attending the University of Richmond when she and Greg got together. Though close, the two of them rarely saw each other that year even though it was less than a thirty-minute drive between the two cities. Both of them had been so wrapped up in their new relationships they hadn't wanted to take time away to visit, which was why Camille had never met Steve and could go looking for him at The Warehouse tonight without risk of being remembered by him. She had seen several pictures of him and Bethany and had no fear she wouldn't be able to pick the asshole out of a crowd. But for someone who hadn't done the club scene or dated in years, let alone had sex with anyone, and whose knowledge of sex clubs was what she read in fictional accounts, she had no idea what to expect tonight. In her younger, sexually active years she could easily picture herself wanting to experiment at a sex club, if only for the secret thrill of watching and fantasizing. Now, she could only hope she had the wherewithal to see this through, for Bethany's and Joshua's sakes, as well as her own.
Four hours later, Camille pulled into the gravel parking lot in front of The Warehouse, her hands turning clammy when she saw how many cars filled the lot. Turning off the engine, she ran her palms down her jean clad thighs wondering if she could do this. She didn't know if the sudden racing of her heart was due to trepidation or excitement, and frankly, didn't want to know. Even if she managed to get into the private sex club tonight, she was only here as an observer, not a potential participant. She had no idea how people dressed in places like this, but her wardrobe consisted of slacks and blouses for work and loose jeans and tops for casual wear, so her choices had been limited. She doubted if her decision to combine her work and casual attire by wearing a long sleeved, pale blue blouse tucked into her jeans would draw too many interested looks, which would be fine with her. All she wanted out of tonight was one picture on her cell phone of Steve inside the sex club doing something damning enough he wouldn't want to risk it becoming publicly known; just enough to get him to drop the joint custody suit he was threatening.
Her stomach jumped with nerves as she got out of her car and walked up to the entrance, her fingers trembling when she pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside a dimly lit entry. Going up to the small counter, she tried sm
iling with confidence at the young girl sitting behind it.
"Hello. Here for newbie night?"
Camille's smile slipped into a frown of consternation. "I'm that obvious?"
"Other than the 'what the hell am I doing here' look on your face, I know all the members at The Warehouse. The nine to eleven admission fee for nonmembers tonight is twenty dollars. If you're lucky enough to get invited to stay longer, there'll be no extra charge."
Camille paid the cover charge, feeling completely out of her depth already. This girl was about ten years younger than her, yet she felt like she was the young, inexperienced one. At thirty-two, she wasn't young, but damn it, she was inexperienced and had no one to blame for the sorry state of her non-existent sex life other than herself. "Thank you." She held out her hand to get stamped, ignoring the warm flush creeping over her face as she asked, "Got any advice on how I can get invited into the uh… sex room?"
"Sorry, there's nothing that'll get you in there unless one of the members takes a shine to you and you show you have potential. Good luck."
Potential for what? Going through the door on the right the girl had indicated, Camille wondered if her plans for the night were already doomed. Picturing Joshua's sweet face and Bethany's worried look, she shored up her nerve and proceeded forward with her plan despite the odds stacked against her success.
The social room wasn't what she expected. Compared to the number of cars in the parking lot, there were relatively few people in the surprisingly small, cozy room. A brick fireplace dominated the far wall; the comfortable looking chairs and sofas facing the small blaze made the room resemble someone's den rather than a social club. Soft, quiet background music allowed people to converse without yelling. A young man monitored the bar along the opposite wall with its mirrored back, serving customers seated on high stools and a buffet table of snack foods spread out to her right