She walked to the far side of the room, depositing her purse and briefcase down on the desk. Staying as far away from all that appealing testosterone as she could, she backed up to the desk and crossed one ankle in front of the other. Her fingertips clutched the rim of the desk for support against the massive waves of determination rolling off his huge body. “Really? You want my agreement?”
“Yes ma’am. This doesn’t work if you don’t want it.”
“What doesn’t work?”
“You with me and Giles, all together.”
“Wh-what?” To think about having two men—those two men—together had been a pipe dream. The crazy kind that did not come true.
“I’m asking you if you’d like to take a ride on a fantastic voyage. Go to the Bravado Club with Giles Benedict and me and offer up a spectacle for the members.”
Her mouth worked. Her mind didn’t.
He went dead serious. “It’s what you said you craved. I want to give it to you.”
“When?” Did I have the balls to ask that?
“Name the day.”
“Day?”
“Day. Night. Time. Circumstances. What you want. What you won’t tolerate.”
A portion of her gray matter clicked on and in the white light of reality she knew she did want this. This excitement. This stunning possibility to stand before…oh my, how many people? And she would have sex with two men in front of others? A wash of delight rushed through her. She was cool, calm, collected. Powerful.
“Okay.” She licked her lips. “Saturday. Can we do this tomorrow night?” Her thoughts trailed off with a spike in her anxiety that she could actually agree to this. But she had to, didn’t she? This was satisfying herself. Her needs. Her wants. Not denying herself. Not any longer. She had no reason to be careful and bored. Small in aspirations. Hollow without sensual or emotional satisfactions. “I might be leaving Sunday or Monday…”
“Tomorrow night it is, then.”
“Nine o’clock?”
He nodded. “Nine.”
“I want both of you. Only the three of us. No other women.”
He gave a small laugh. “Why would we want another one?”
Her pussy thrummed with delight at his words. Choked with emotion she gave him a watery smile. “I don’t want any anal intercourse.”
“Done.”
Oh, lord. How would she satisfy two men with regular sex? Was she nuts? Or just too damn vanilla for any of this? Well, he had offered this. She’d take it. It might be the only time in all her life when she had the gumption. So she asked for more.
“I want bondage. No knives. No fire play.”
“Fine. Anything else?”
How simple had that been? Every cell in her body quivered with expectation. Wade, the way she wanted him, hers and hers alone. With Giles.
“Two things you must do,” he told her. “No mask. You come as who you are.”
Everyone there would learn who she was, if they didn’t know already. Okay. She had no idea why that appealed to Wade but she’d go along. “What else?”
“No masturbating before the big event. I want you hungry and purring by the time you get there.”
Jumping out of my skin? “Agreed.”
“We’re set then.” She walked to the door and bid him goodbye.
As he passed her he chucked her under the chin. “Take care, sweet thing.” He leaned over her and brushed her lips with his.
She thought he’d kiss her then. Instead the damn man bit her lower lip.
As he walked out, chuckling, she slammed the door shut behind him.
Only when she heard him drive away did she strip out of her clothes and make a beeline for her shower. A cold one.
Chapter Twelve
“I’ll be there tomorrow morning,” Skye told Willow. “I’m so excited.”
“I’m happy you’ve got the interview.” Willow switched her phone to her other ear, toying with the butterfly mask she’d worn the night before when she had gone to the Bravado Club with Sam and Cara. The visit had been everything she’d imagined. Actually more. It had been an education to watch men and women discarding their clothes and their egos, trading them for a deeper emotional experience. She’d seen bondage that thrilled her, fire play that entranced her. Shibari that intrigued her. Women who submitted to men and swooned at the exchange of power. Men who did the same with their female Dommes and enjoyed the transfer. In each scene she’d witnessed how wholly one trusted the other to never hurt them, never betray them.
She wanted that vital quality in her own loving relationship.
“Are you still there, Willow?”
“Yes, here, honey.” She sank onto the edge of her bed and squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to welcome Skye to this very unique town. What terrible timing for her sister to land in Bravado the morning after her exhibition with Wade and Giles. Willow knew she’d be exhausted physically. Maybe emotionally too. But she would never deny Skye this. The young woman needed a job, and if she wanted to come check out the town before she had her interview Monday for the teaching position, the best time for her to arrive was tomorrow. “Your grades were spectacular but they’ll love your personality.”
“Thanks, Sis. You’re the greatest. I’ll leave early.”
“Not too early, please,” Willow begged off. “Plan to get here by noon, I’ll take your to lunch. Show you around.”
“Got a hot date tonight?”
Perceptive kid. “And if I do?”
“I’d say it’s about damn time.”
“Ha ha. I can still wash your mouth out with soap.”
“Oh, you talk big but you’re such a softie.”
“Don’t test me.” Willow let a smile creep into her voice. “One recommendation.”
“Yep. What?”
“Bring a dress for your interview.”
“Aw, come on, girl. This is Texas.”
“And you are interviewing for a nice little job as a teacher to second-graders. Look the part.”
“School marm, huh?”
“Beats Cowgirl of the Year. No jeans. No Western shirts. Save it for after school.”
“Okay, got it, Mom.” She sighed. “I’ll be happy to leave here.”
Willow caught a note of wistfulness in Skye’s delicate voice. “Why? What’s going on?”
“Grayson texted me again yesterday.”
“Oh, no. I hope you didn’t text him back.” She let the question hang in her tone. “He can’t commit, Skye. Leave him to live alone. He’s yanked you back and forth for more than a year. Besides, if he ever got his act together and decided he was ready to be exclusive with you, you are too young to settle down.”
“Twenty-two is not young.”
“No? By my standards it is.” Willow stroked the multicolored feathers of Sam’s club mask. “The world is full of men who can’t seem to put a ring on it. So let them live alone, looking for love in all the wrong places.”
Skye remained silent.
“You still there?”
“I am, Sis. I hear some conflict in your voice. What’s happening with you there?”
Willow brought her up-to-date on her research and then stopped cold.
“You’ve met a man?” Skye probed, her tone joyous. “Tell me.”
“Two.”
Skye was once more dead quiet.
“I like them both, for different reasons.”
“Of course. So what is your problem?”
If she told her very pretty younger sister what she was about to do with two men she cared for—hell, with two men she had already slept with—would she set an example? One Skye might want to duplicate? Skye might come to town and think she could and should do the same kind of hook-up. That, Willow would caution her against. The idea of making love or having sex with two men already tore at her own serenity even as it excited her beyond belief.
“Do want to talk about it?” Skye persisted, then in the silence, sighed. “Okay, I get it. I’m too young
to understand. But you have to give me some credit for having a brain, Willow. You and I have lived together too long, making the best of each other’s lives. I can deal, Willow. I can deal.”
“I hear you. I—I like both men, Skye. A lot. One more than the other. But I have been alone so long, in charge of my own life for so many years that I like my independence. I like how I am.”
“I hope you’re not going to give me that old saw about how you don’t want to be absorbed into some man’s life. That he’d demand this and that and you’d have to change for him.”
“Well, actually—” Some men could be so demanding that they could be a threat.
“Come on, lady. You are old enough and wise enough to know better. You’d ask him, you’d influence him to change too. I know you would.”
“You have a lot of trust in me,” Willow said with a laugh.
“I do. I have trusted you all my life. Now, darling woman, it is time to trust yourself.”
Willow blinked. Holding up the mask of rainbow colors before her eyes, she smiled at the event she was about to embark on. Filled with enthusiasm for the night ahead of her she appreciated her sister’s insight. “I do believe you got that just right.”
“Good. I’m off to work.”
“The dinner shift? That’s new.”
“Tips are better. I’ve gotta run. Whatever you are doing tonight you have fun, you hear me?”
“I will,” Willow agreed, standing up and posing this way and that in front of the mirror so that she could admire how the bustier and panties hugged her generous curves.
“See you around noon tomorrow. Be rested. Better yet, be happy. Bye.” Skye clicked off.
Willow tossed her cell on the bed and did another turn in the mirror. Not bad. Pretty sexy actually. And tonight she’d see more of how the Bravado Club ran. Who came. Who was into bondage and knives. And exhibitionism.
Someone knocked at her door.
She strode over, looked through the peephole and swung the door wide. “Wade? What are you—”
She was rushed off her feet, curled in his arms, plunked down on her mattress. Then he kissed her.
Silly with his surprise and his ardor she giggled and curled her legs around his thighs. “Oh, Wade, wow.” Her words came out muffled by his attention to her lips and the probe of his demanding tongue. His kisses ignited her more each time he bestowed them. “What are you doing?”
He pulled back, his gaze hooded with desire—and was that determination too?
“Wade?”
He reached down and grasped one of her feet. Lifting her leg, he bent and bit a toe then the edge of her heel. Fiend. She wiggled, her pussy gushing. Moaning, he scored her calf, her thigh with his teeth. Her skin flamed, her nails dug into his biceps. Frantic to have more from him she arched against him. God, he was hard. And silent. He cupped her breasts and laved the tops with his rough tongue. Her girls tingled and hardened. How much fun this man was.
He cupped her jaw and nipped her earlobe, then in one push he stood.
And walked out the door.
Slamming it behind him.
Dazed, she lay like a sacrificial lamb on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. Her grin grew to laughter. She’d just been ravished and prepared for what she hoped was the best night of her sexual life.
* * * * *
The club was packed. Whether she’d just not noticed a crowd last night when she had visited, or she was just eager to know who’d watch her tonight, she couldn’t say.
But she was determined to enjoy all that happened here.
The appreciative looks she got for her outfit made her heart race. A few men stood at the bar, watching her approach in the mirror. One man walked toward her but another yanked on his sleeve, holding him back. That one she knew. She racked her brain trying to figure out just who he was. Had she seen him the other night at the restaurant when she went out with Giles? Why would he pull his buddy to hold him back from talking to her?
Wow. That certainly appealed to her ego. Flatter me, do.
She felt lightheaded. Glanced around and saw that other men had the same set of actions. One would take a step toward her. Another would grab him back.
That interest, that restraint of those who were attracted to her made her suspicious that someone had issued instructions about tonight. Did Wade do that?
She tingled.
Had to be Wade. Giles wouldn’t ask other men to keep away from her.
But Wade would.
She strolled to the bar, fished dollar bills from her bustier and put them to the black granite. “Gin and tonic,” she told Will MacRae, who worked as bartender tonight.
With a lopsided grin, he nodded at her and winked at her outfit. A little thrill ran up her spine.
He set her drink in front of her and she took a good swallow. He hadn’t put any booze in there. Her gaze met his and she realized with his wink that she wasn’t supposed to drink alcohol tonight. She was the main attraction and she’d not be dulled by gin to enjoy it. Okay. She could get into that.
She swirled to rest her elbows on the bar, one high-heeled shoe hooked in the brass boot rail. Her breasts stood out in this pose, big and bold. Ready for whatever came her way.
But no man did. They smiled, they nodded, they elbowed their buddies and inclined their heads her way. They ogled her, eating up every inch of exposed skin and imagining what lay beneath the elaborate costume. But they didn’t touch.
And her pussy swelled in want. Needing Giles and Wade, she fought the impulse to rub her thighs together. Relief was not on the menu here. Not yet.
Where were her two men?
At once the crowd before her parted like the Red Sea. There, straight in front of her stood Giles. Blond, buff, in a flowing white shirt and fitted breeches he looked like a rogue from another century. His gaze swirled over her as he walked toward her. Swallowing hard, she waited for his touch, his kiss, his possession. Her nipples blossomed like happy flowers, her channel gushed with appreciation.
She thought he’d wrap her in his arms. Kiss her.
But no. He stood there a long moment then strode forward and caught her around the waist, hoisted her high, her head hanging down, and carried her like a damn pirate’s prize toward the far stage.
If he portrayed a buccaneer or a rogue she welcomed both. “What do you want me to do?”
No one had given her instructions.
For answer Giles spun her to the audience. He massaged her neck with one hand, pulled her back into his embrace and kissed her nape. Her mouth fell open and to her shock he popped a ball gag in her mouth. When she gasped he pinched her arm as if in warning. She understood. She nodded. Okay. She could go with this. She could.
But where was Wade?
Giles steadied her on her feet then wrapped a silken tie around her mouth. All right. She could wear the gag but damn if she could promise to be quiet. If she wanted to moan she would. To hell with being too damn compliant. As long as Giles kept caressing her she knew thankfully she wouldn’t be complacent.
Giles ran his hands through her upswept hair, destroying her careful updo and combing the lengths of her waves out over her shoulders and down over the swell of her breasts. He lingered over her nipples, defining the circumferences until they practically poked through the heavy sequined material. She cleared her throat, her sound one of hunger and appeal for more affection.
With smooth caresses of his fingertips he defined the curve of her waist, the flow of her hips, the length of one thigh and calf only to come up the inside of that leg and down the other. At his deliberation she wanted to applaud.
But he moved to the hooks of her bustier in the back and slowly with deliberate pops, undid them, one by one in torturous delay. At the last one the skintight garment fell away from her breasts, landing on the floor in a thud. The heavy, heaving globes of her 40Ds swayed as they fell free of the stays. In the audience someone groaned his appreciation.
She quaked with delight, archin
g a bit higher to show off her two beauties. This was what she had craved. People to enjoy what she had, if only from afar. She grinned, proud of herself that she’d had the guts to ask for this public display.
Giles was doing brisk work of unzipping her blue satin pants, beneath which there was only…skin.
She froze.
Stop being a ninny.
She’d asked for this.
Now everyone gets to see me, not just my pussy but my bare one.
Giles yanked the silk down her hips and her pants fell to the floor.
She heard a rustle in the audience.
She gulped. Damn, they were so disciplined. More than I am!
Giles lifted one foot and she stepped out of her garment that lay on the floor. Pulling her arms behind her, he pressed his beautifully aroused body against her ass. She squeezed her cheeks, trying to cup his package. No use. He pulled back. But with one hand circling her two wrists, he wrapped a silken cloth around one, then the other. She braced her feet, giving the audience a small smile of satisfaction.
Then he pushed her to her knees.
That she hadn’t expected. Not from Giles.
But she took it, excitement rippling through her. She heard the swish of more fabric. What was that?
Her sight went black.
Ah. A blindfold. That too was welcome. New. She’s never made love deprived of one of her senses.
From the far corner of the performance stage she heard footsteps. Heavy. Booted. But the crack of a whip made her jump.
No. She had never said she’d agree to a whipping. A spanking, yes, but not—
Another crack made her cry out. The ball and gag muffled her dismay. She tried to rise but Giles sank a hand into her hair and held her in her pose of submission.
Okay. Just breathe. The whip isn’t on me. Only the floor.
The whip slashed closer, sharp flicks of air wafting over her skin. She got goose bumps listening, excitement mounting with her fear. She wanted to run, she needed to stay and learn what he’d do with that sharp, cracking whip. She didn’t. Couldn’t. She had said no pain and Wade had agreed to that, so why suddenly—
Bind Me Close: 3 (Knights in Black Leather) Page 18