Jordyn shook the proffered hand. “Thank you, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, too. You have a lovely place here.” She glanced around the room with an appreciative expression on her face as if she’d been in BDSM clubs all around the world for years. Not that this level had any play areas—those were located on the second and third floors.
Clearing his throat, Carter addressed the establishment’s owner, “I was wondering if you could arrange for appropriate club-wear for Jordyn. Despite flying first class, the airline lost her checked luggage.”
Rolling her eyes, Trixie shook her head. “How they can’t get a bag from point A to point B in this day and age is beyond me.” She ran her gaze down Jordyn’s frame. “Let’s see, a size six for the clothing, and, what, a six and a half shoe?”
Surprised, Jordyn let out a little laugh. “Damn, you’re good.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it, darling. I’ll call over to Toni’s and have her pick out something spectacular for you.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
Carter took a step backward, indicating the conversation was nearing its end. “Put it on my tab, Trixie. We’re going to my room to relax for a little bit before Paul has our dinners delivered. We’ll see you later.”
With that, he led the way out to the lobby again. Reentering the elevator with Jordyn on his heels, Carter pressed the button for the fourth floor. When the doors closed, she raised an eyebrow. “So . . . Trixie?”
He chuckled. “Jealous?” Frowning, she glared at him, causing him to laugh harder. “Don’t worry, there’s absolutely, positively nothing about Trixie that’s attractive to me. First off, she’s a sadistic Domme, and I’m a Dom who will never submit to her. Secondly, underneath that black dress is an impressive cock and balls—or so I’m told.”
Jordyn’s jaw dropped. “She . . . she’s a . . . guy?”
“Shemale is the politically correct term.”
“Holy shit, I never would have guessed. He . . . I mean, she could be a supermodel or something.”
“You’re not the first person to say that over the years.” The doors opened and Carter led the way to his private room. It had taken him a few years to be eligible for one and then he’d had to wait for one to become available, but now it was permanently his until he was no longer a member of the club. Swiping his wallet in front of another sensor, he pushed the door open after he heard a click.
Following him into the large room, Jordyn eyed the furnishings. It had all the comforts of a studio apartment but on a very expensive scale. There was a sitting area with a sofa and chairs, an entertainment center with a forty-inch flat screen TV, a dining table for two, and a king-sized, mahogany bed. The décor was done in earth tones and was quite comfortable. He pointed to one of the other two doors in the room. “Bathroom is in there, if you want to take a shower before dinner arrives.”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything. Her gaze was on the huge bed and he couldn’t decipher her thoughts about it.
“Jordy, I’m not going to jump you, so please relax. I’ve never had another woman in this room—it’s my sanctuary. I come here to upwind and sleep.”
Glaring at him, she said, “I couldn’t care less if you’ve had hundreds of women in here. I’m sure as hell not getting in that bed with you. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
With her duffel still hanging from her shoulder, she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. When he heard the lock engage, he sighed. “Damn, she’s going to be the death of me.”
A few minutes later, he was sitting in the recliner, flipping through the TV channels for a sports game while the sounds of Jordyn taking a shower floated through the door. He wanted to walk in there and join her with every second that passed but he had to start from scratch with her—starting with, explaining the lifestyle to her. How she’d found out didn’t matter; it wasn’t like it was a huge secret at Deimos—he also wasn’t the only operative at the agency to be in the lifestyle. But for some reason, Jordyn was blinded against the reality of BDSM. Hopefully, she would open her mind and let him educate her, because if she didn’t, he’d have to walk away from her after this mess they were dealing with was over. And he didn’t think he’d be able to do that—not after the sparks he felt while kissing her outside the Oval Office.
There was a soft knock on the door, and he stood. Opening it, he stepped back to let Paul enter, pushing a room service cart. Three metal-covered plates, salads in china bowls, bread and butter, two wine glasses, and the bottle of cabernet sat atop a white tablecloth. There were also crystal salt and pepper shakers, expensive silverware, and cloth napkins. Paul set the cart next to the door, then began moving the first course and wine to the dining table. He even lit a small candle Carter hadn’t noticed and placed it on the table with the shakers. “Sir, the dinners are a porterhouse steak au poivre and sautéed Chilean Sea Bass in a caramelized lemon sauce. For dessert, there’s cheesecake served inside Valencia oranges topped with Grand Marnier and fresh whipped cream. They look delicious.” He opened the bottle of wine with the flare of a sommelier and poured a small sample into one of the glasses. Carter took a sip of it, letting the enticing flavors coat his taste buds. It was an excellent wine, and he nodded his approval for the man to continue pouring it into the two glasses. Leaving the remainder of the bottle on the table, Paul stated, “Mistress said to tell you Toni’s will be delivering Mistress Jordyn’s clothing shortly. Will there be anything else, Sir?”
Jordyn picked that moment to come out of the bathroom. She was dressed in blue, haute couture lounge pants and a matching pullover shirt she’d purchased at the airport in Scotland, and her hair was twisted up under a towel. Forcing his body not to respond to her freshly-scrubbed skin, bare feet, and the lavender scent of whatever shampoo she’d used that filled the room, he addressed Paul. “Could you track down a hairdryer for Mistress Jordyn, please. Leave it with her clothing outside the door when it arrives since we’ll be catching up on some much needed sleep after we eat.”
“Certainly. Anything else, Sir?”
Carter glanced at Jordyn and she shook her head. Turning back to the male submissive, he said, “No, that will be all for now. Thank you, Paul.”
“My pleasure, Sir.”
As the man left and shut the door behind him, Carter pulled one of the chairs of the dining table out for Jordyn. She hesitated a moment then sat and placed the napkin on her lap. He took the seat across from her and waited for her to pick up her fork and dig into her Caesar salad before following suit. It was a part of him he didn’t have to think twice about—like breathing—it was second nature. A woman came first, especially a submissive, before his needs were met—whether they were sexual in nature or not. He opened doors for them, pulled out chairs, fed them, brought them pleasure, whatever was required. He needed to show Jordyn that’s what a large portion of the BDSM lifestyle was for him and not whatever false image she had in her mind.
Chapter 12
As hungry as she’d been, and as much as she’d eaten, Jordyn couldn’t remember tasting a single bite of the three-course meal. During their dinner, Carter had filled the silence with details of what they already knew about the breach and bounced a few hunches off her. She answered as best she could under his heated stare. Despite the conversation subject, the sexual tension in the room was off the charts, and she hated every second of it—at least her brain did.
Her lips still tingled from when he’d kissed her earlier at the White House. He’d caught her off guard, and for a few brief moments she’d melted into the kiss. Why, oh, why, did she have to be attracted to this man? He’d brought her to a fucking sex club of all places!
When they’d entered the bar area earlier, it hadn’t been what she’d expected. Instead of a dungeon filled with ancient implements of torture, it was one of the most beautifully decorated clubs she’d ever been in, and that was saying a lot. In her undercover travels and missions, she’d been in high-end establishments all over the world, an
d Club X ranked right up there in terms of sophisticated décor. The black, gray, and burgundy colors had given the bar area a bold richness that had reminded her of some of the rooms in Castle Steel Mic and her team had left in the original décor.
Now, she paced the room as he took a shower and every pass brought her face to face with that damn big bed. There were no whips and chains in the room, no restraints, just comfortable furniture—and that damn big bed. The blue and brown blanket with an unobtrusive, geometric pattern lay over blue satin sheets—she knew because she’d checked. And why she’d checked, she didn’t know. She’d run her fingers over the cool material, and images of her and Carter rolling around on them had sent her hormones skyrocketing. An unwanted need pulsating between her legs was driving her crazy. She had to do something to quell her hormones. It’d been a while since she’d had sex, so that had to be the reason she was so horny, right? It didn’t mean she was craving Carter; any man would do, right? Fuck.
Flopping down on the couch, she picked up the TV remote and changed the channel, not paying attention to anything that flashed on the screen before moving on. The bathroom door swung open and Jordyn forced herself not to jump out of her skin. Her mouth watered as Carter, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, strode barefoot across the room to a small refrigerator and withdrew a bottle of water. He held it up and raised an eyebrow at her. When she nodded, he grabbed another bottle and tossed it to her.
“Thanks.” She opened the bottle and guzzled half of it as he sat down in the recliner next to the couch. Reaching over, he took the remote from her and changed whatever show had been on to a seventies music channel. “Brandy” by Looking Glass filled the room, and he lowered the volume. Shit, here it comes.
“We need to talk, love.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off with the wave of his hand. “Uh-uh. This is long overdue. I just wish I hadn’t waited so long to find out why you were running from me.” He paused. “How did you find out I was in the lifestyle?”
She shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Not really. How about when did you find out?”
Picking at an invisible piece of lint on her pants, Jordyn refused to meet his stare. “After I filed my reports about Malaysia in Virginia.”
“After you left my bed.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why’d you leave then, Jordy? Was it just a fuck and run for you?”
“No!” Her gaze flew to his face in anger. “I’m not one of your fucking whores, Carter. I don’t fall into bed with just anyone. It was just the adrenaline that night. Nothing more.”
“I don’t believe that, and neither do you. Adrenaline may have played a part in it, but there was so much more going on between us than just that, and you know it. And I never thought of you as a whore, Jordy—far from it. Tell me why I woke up alone, wondering why you left. What cardinal sin did I commit before you found out about the lifestyle? I gave you a few days to get over whatever had you freaked and then I called. And called and then called again. Finally, I gave up.”
Swallowing hard, she stared at the floor. She’d deleted every one of those voice mail messages he’d left for her without listening to them. When he’d stopped leaving them, a small part of her had been disappointed—and it hadn’t been her brain. No way was she telling him that the reason she’d originally left his bed was because she'd realized she didn't want to leave it all—that she’d fallen for him hard. Their business wasn’t conducive to normal relationships—no husband/wife deals, or even co-inhabitants—live-in lovers. They’d be lucky if they saw each other every few weeks or months in between missions—not exactly a happily-ever-after situation. Then again, Jordyn didn’t believe in happily-ever-afters. She didn’t know anyone who’d ever had one.
Another thought popped into her head. She hadn’t yet asked him about the kid he apparently had, and whatever Carter’s relationship was with the boy’s mother. Was he still involved with her? Or was he just an absentee father who paid the bills and showed up on the kid’s doorstep once or twice a year? It annoyed the hell out of her that she remembered what he’d said to the woman, word for word. I love you, too, sweetheart. Give my boy a kiss and a hug from me. I’ll call you when I land in D.C. But each one of those words had cut her deeply, because as much as her head didn’t want to, her body desperately wanted to be in his bed again.
“Does it matter?” she asked again, not wanting to address the wife and kid issue right now.
Jordyn was surprised when he answered, “No, it doesn’t. If you don’t trust me, it’ll never matter.”
“I trust you.” They both knew there was more to that statement; she trusted him to a point.
He ran a hand down his face. “You trust me to cover your six. You trust me to defend this country and Deimos with every breath I take. You don’t trust me in your bed . . . and in your heart. A fact I plan on trying my best to rectify, if you give me a chance.”
Fidgeting in her seat, Jordyn didn’t answer him—too many thoughts were swarming through her mind, and she couldn’t focus—not when he was sitting there without a shirt on. He stood suddenly and went to the entertainment center. Opening a cabinet door, he pulled out a laptop, disconnecting it from its charger. He sat on the recliner again and booted up the computer. “What do you know about BDSM, Jordy? Or better question—what do you think you know about it?”
“It’s a bunch of people who get off on abusing other people,” she spat out, her anger coming to the surface again.
Not answering her right away, his fingers flew across the computer’s keyboard. His head tilted from side to side in time to “Lyin’ Eyes” by the Eagles which was now coming through the surround sound speakers. She waited, wondering what he was up to. When he spun the laptop around, he handed it to her. “Some reading you need to do before we finish this conversation and most definitely before we go downstairs. That’ll keep you occupied for a while, so I’m going to take a nap. Try to resist taking advantage of me in my sleep, okay?”
“Wh-what? What’s this?” Jordyn stared at the screen. Was there really a website called BDSM 101? From the looks of it, he’d had to log into the site. There was a list of pages on a huge variety of subjects—What is a Dom? What is a submissive? What is a power exchange? What’s the difference between a submissive and a slave? The list went on and on.
She glanced up at him with her mouth agape as he strode over to the bed. Jumping into the air, he landed supine on the mattress, bouncing a few times. After releasing his ponytail from its band, he tucked his hands behind his head and gave her a wink before shutting his eyes. “Happy reading, love.”
* * *
The sound of the hairdryer blasting in the bathroom penetrated Carter’s sleep-filled mind, then the vibrations from the club’s sound system thumping registered. Opening his eyes, he saw the laptop was still open on the couch, but at some point, Jordyn had retrieved the charger and plugged it into a nearby outlet. Standing, he stretched and strode over to it. The door to the bathroom was shut, and he took the moment of privacy to check the history of web pages Jordyn had been on. He was pleased to see she’d gone through dozens of “Frequently Asked Questions” on the site he’d logged her into, in addition to some of the community chat posts.
The hairdryer quieted and he clicked the forward arrow to get back to the last page she’d been on. By the time the bathroom door swung open, he was across the room getting another bottle of water from the fridge. Turning around, he almost choked on his tongue when he saw Jordyn enter the room. Bug-eyed, he froze as his gaze went from her head to her toes and back again. Fuck me was the only thought that registered in his brain.
A black, spandex catsuit hugged the curves of her legs, hips, waist, and breasts, while the high neckline was offset by her bare shoulders and arms. She was five inches taller in the knee-high, black leather boots, bringing her a lot closer to his own height of six foot four. She’d blown her black mane out in soft curls that framed her face and fell over her shou
lders and down her back. Her makeup had been expertly applied, causing her eyes and red lips to pop against her olive skin tone. But what made the whole outfit was the attitude pouring off of her. If he hadn’t known in his heart she was a sexual submissive, he would unquestionably accept the Domme in front of him.
She cocked her hip to the side and rested her hand on it. “So . . . do I pass inspection for this mission, Master Carter?”
Yeah, she may have read a lot on the subject, but her snarkiness said she still wasn’t convinced that the lifestyle was safe, sane, and consensual. Reining in the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, he nodded. “Not bad.” Yeah, that was an enormous understatement.
Snorting, she strode toward him, one sexy, drop-dead-gorgeous step at a time. He swallowed hard as his cock twitched in his sweatpants. Her eyes flew to his groin—yup, she couldn’t miss the growing bulge the thin cotton material was doing nothing to hide. Stopping in front of him, she ran a manicured finger down his bare chest while licking her lips. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her descent, and pulled her flush against his body. His other arm went around her waist and held her tightly in place. Myriad emotions flashed through her eyes as he dropped his voice to his Dom tone. “You’re playing with fire here, little one. Don’t start anything you’re not willing to follow through on.”
He felt a shiver go down her spine, exciting the shit out of him. For all her bravado, her body craved to submit to him; he knew it as well as he knew his own name. But just like that, her eyes narrowed and she pushed him away. “Whatever. So, tell me what we’ll be doing here tonight. Which assets are you targeting?”
Absolving His Sins: Trident Security Book 7 Page 11