“All right, don’t let on I recognize anyone, got it. What happens if someone approaches me to . . . um . . .” She was at a loss for the right word.
“‘Play’ or ‘scene’ are the terms.” Picking up his wallet from the table next to the recliner, he removed a flat card she assumed unlocked the door to this room, and stuffed it into his back pocket. “If that happens, just act cool and indifferent, and let them know you’re not interested in playing tonight. The submissive should immediately back off. I’ll be nearby in case you get into a situation you’re not sure about. Okay?”
Taking a cleansing breath, she let her inner alpha bitch come to the surface for tonight’s charade. “Okay. Let’s do this. Oh, what’s my cover?”
“Use your advertising exec persona for tonight. You’ve been working on the campaigns for my import/export company and we’ve become friends.”
That was easy enough; it was the cover they’d used in Malaysia, and she’d used it for a few other missions with “members” of the company’s board of trustees. “Okay. Sounds good. Jordyn Dominguez it is.”
With one last glance up and down her body, Carter shook his head then opened the door leading to the hallway. “Let’s go, before my hard-on comes back with a vengeance and I forget why we’re here.”
They took the elevator back to the first floor, and when the doors opened, Jordyn felt like she was in another dimension. Two burly men stood outside the tinted windows next to the unassuming front door—the way the interior and exterior lights were adjusted, it was much easier to see out than it was to see in. Another two were guarding the double doors leading from the lobby into the club. All four were wearing black dress pants and shirts with gold bowties. Paul and a petite, blonde woman were stationed at the reception desk. The male submissive was now wearing black, leather pants and a gold bowtie, sans shirt. The blonde was in a short, gold, pleated skirt that barely covered her ass, a sheer, black, lacy bra, and the same necktie.
But it was the patrons who drew Jordyn’s gaze. Five men and women were in the lobby chatting. Two of them, a man and woman, both nearly naked, were on their knees, heads bowed, next to two men who she assumed were their Doms. Leather appeared to be the popular choice for clothing, if a person chose to wear any.
Pulsating music emanated from behind the double doors as Carter lead her toward them. Jordyn pasted on a mask of indifference, as Carter had advised, and followed him into the devil’s lair of sex and kink. The atmosphere of the club had changed since they’d been inside earlier in the day. The lights were dimmed, acoustic rock music filled the air along with moans, groans, shouts, and begging. The aroma of oranges mixed with the scents of perfume, sex, and sweat—surprisingly, it was an enticing combination. More of what she’d witnessed in the lobby was scattered about the club—men and women, Doms and submissives, in varying states of dress.
Trixie approached them dressed in an emerald green evening gown, sparkling diamond hoops hanging from her earlobes. “You look stunning, Mistress Jordyn. I hope you found the clothes to your liking.”
Running her hands over her hips, Jordyn smiled. “Yes, I do—very much. Thank you for ordering them for me. I especially love the boots; they’re very comfortable.”
“Toni has nothing but the best in her shop, darling. If you want to visit her, let me know, and I’ll set it up. It’s by invite and appointment only.”
“Thank you. Maybe next time I’m in town.”
Leaving them, Trixie stopped to speak to another couple. Carter pointed to the bar. “Something to drink?”
Oh, yeah. Something to calm her nerves. Despite her outward appearance, inside Jordyn was quaking in her five-inch heel boots. “A vodka martini would be great.”
He gave her a knowing smirk and flagged down the bartender. “Beluga Gold vodka martini and a Guinness, Victor, please.”
Holy shit! He’d remembered the high priced vodka she favored while hobnobbing with the social elite. While it wasn’t outrageously expensive, it was still over a hundred dollars per bottle in a liquor store.
When their drinks were delivered, she nodded her thanks to the bartender. Carter signed for the drinks, then threw a twenty dollar tip on the bar, while Jordyn took a soothing sip of her martini. She wasn’t a big drinker—needing to keep her wits about her while working—but it was times like this she was glad she’d developed a taste for vodka.
“Master Carter!”
The two of them turned at the female voice calling his name. Jordyn was surprised to see a very pregnant redhead waddling toward them wearing a semi sheer, black teddy with red trim, which hung down to her midthigh. Black, satin slippers covered her feet. The woman looked like she was going to go into labor at any moment. A flash of jealousy coursed through Jordyn when she saw the tender smile and look in Carter’s eyes.
He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the woman’s cheek. “Hello, Lucy. You look wonderful. The due date’s getting close, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir. Three more weeks, although my doctor thinks it’ll be sooner than that. I wanted to thank you for the presents you sent for the baby. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It was my pleasure, little one.”
The redhead had been beaming at Carter, but she finally noticed he wasn’t alone. Her eyes widened as she took in Jordyn’s outfit and frown. Her gaze immediately dropped to the floor and she became flustered. “Oh, f-forgive me, Mistress. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m-I’m so sorry—”
Carter cut her off. “It’s okay, Lucy. That was my fault for not introducing you. This is Mistress Jordyn, visiting from California. Jordyn, this is Lucy.”
Jordyn knew Carter had been with this woman in the past; there was no doubt in her mind. But Lucy appeared to be ready to burst into tears over her perceived faux pas—it could be her hormones or something else, but Jordyn couldn’t let the woman feel as if she’d wronged her. She pasted a welcoming smile on her face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucy. And you didn’t interrupt at all. Congratulations on your baby. Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”
The redhead’s shoulders sagged in obvious relief she hadn’t insulted a Domme. “We—my Master and I—decided we wanted to be surprised. As Sir tells everyone, it’s one of the few true surprises in life.”
“Indeed it is. Well, again, congratulations, and I hope whatever the sex, the baby is healthy and happy.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Glancing around, Carter said, “Speaking of your Sir, Lucy—where is Master Frank?”
Lucy turned and pointed to a nearby couch where three men were sitting and talking. One man had a cast on his leg with crutches leaning against the arm of the couch next to him. “Sir fell off a ladder last month and broke his ankle. The cast comes off the week before my due date.”
Carter chuckled. “I won’t even ask what he was doing on a ladder.” He grinned as he addressed Jordyn. “Lucy’s Master can be a walking disaster when it comes to household repairs. Economics analysis, he’s a whiz at. Hammering a nail, not so much.”
As Jordyn laughed, Lucy giggled and nodded. “It’s true, Mistress. But that’s probably why we fell in love—opposites attract. My father made sure I knew how to repair anything around the house. If you’ll excuse me, I should be getting back. It was nice to meet you, Mistress, and it was wonderful to see you again, Sir.”
“And it was great to see you, too, Lucy,” he said. “Go on back and tell your Master I’ll stop by in a bit to say hello.”
“I will, Sir.” The woman waddled—there was no other way to describe it—back to her Dom’s side.
Before Jordyn could ask one of the several questions bouncing around in her mind, a skinny man, a few years older than herself, dressed in brown, leather boy shorts, and nothing else, knelt down next to her. His dark-haired head was bowed, and he appeared to be waiting for something. Jordyn glanced at Carter with a faint “help me” look in her eyes.
The bastard smirked and she’d bet “to
ld you so” was on the tip of his tongue. But, instead, he said, “Mistress Jordyn, this is Santos. I believe he has a question for you.”
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Jordyn looked down at the submissive, and channeled her inner bitch. “Speak, Santos.”
“If Mistress is interested, I would like to negotiate a scene, please.” His squeaky voice sounded like he was still going through puberty twenty years later and it grated on her.
She spoke in a bored tone. “I’m not sure if I’m in the mood to play tonight. If I decide I am, I may or may not come looking for you.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Carter fighting back his laughter. Oh, he was so fucking enjoying this, and she was going to kick his ass when it was all over.
“Thank you, Mistress.”
The submissive didn’t move, waiting until Carter led Jordyn away. After taking a sip of her martini, she murmured just loud enough for him to hear, “You’re a dead man if you say one word about that.”
Holding up a hand in surrender, Carter shook his head. “I won’t say anything other than you handled that quite well. I’m starting to wonder if I have a switch on my hands.”
“What the hell is that?”
“A switch? Exactly what the word implies. It’s someone who likes to be the Dominant in some scenes and aspects of life, yet submissive in others.”
As they strolled around the huge bar, he took a drink of his dark ale and nodded hello to several members. His gaze zeroed in on a group of people and Jordyn scanned their faces, seeing if there was anyone she recognized. One man seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place him—from his stature and aura, he was definitely a Dom. When the man’s eyes shifted and met hers, there was a subtle flash of recognition on his face before it disappeared again. He was quite handsome, with wavy, brown hair that matched the two-day-old goatee and mustache on his face. From this distance, she couldn’t tell his eye color, but if she had to guess, they were brown also. Snug, black jeans hung from his hips, and the muscular physique of his torso was covered by a long-sleeved, blue Henley with the cuffs pushed up almost to his elbows. After an imperceptible nod of his head in her and Carter’s direction, beckoning them to join him, the man turned back toward his companions and their conversation.
Carter leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Adam Sparks, MI6.”
So that’s where she knew the man from. It’d been a few years since she’d seen the British agent at a social engagement in Milan. They’d both been undercover and rubbing elbows with the Italian political and business elite.
Steering their way over to the group, Carter continued to say hello to several people. Jordyn put some attitude in her strut, and it didn’t escape her notice that many members of both sexes appeared interested in the new “Mistress” among them. Some stared at her in curiosity, others in lust. She and Carter were stopped twice for brief conversations. While he made the necessary introductions, it was clear to her that none of the people were his targets for the evening, and he expertly moved them along at the first chance he had. As they neared Sparks’s group, the man stepped away from the others, and Carter held out his hand to him. “Adam, good to see you again. Allow me to introduce Mistress Jordyn Dominguez, an associate and friend of mine from California. Jordyn, this is Adam Sparks.”
After shaking Carter’s hand, Sparks took hold of hers and brought it to his lips. “A pleasure, Mistress,” he stated in a generous, British accent. “It is beauty such as yours that makes me disappointed you’re a Domme.”
Oh, my, God! Could he lay it on any thicker? “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Master Adam,” she cooed. “And I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
She held back a smile when Sparks mouthed the word “liar” to her.
Clearing his throat, Carter said, “Adam, I was hoping to have a few moments of your time this evening. I have a new business venture I thought you might be interested in.”
“Sounds intriguing. I was just about to go meet my sub for a scene. Would you care to join us as a third?”
A third? What the hell was he talking about, Jordyn mused. As in a threesome? Holy shit! She couldn’t figure out why that appalled her and turned her on at the same time.
“I’d be honored. Do you mind if Mistress Jordyn observes? She’s still very new to the lifestyle, and I’m sure she’ll learn a thing or two.”
What! Jordy was so stunned and flustered she didn’t know what to say or do. Did he really think she was going to watch him and Sparks fuck some other woman together?
“I’m sure she will,” Sparks answered, the amusement in his tone was unmistakable. He knew she was dumbfounded even as she hid it from the rest of those present. “I’ll meet you in Observation Room #7 in about five minutes. Just going to the gents first, then grab something from my locker.”
As the British spy walked toward the men’s lounge, Jordyn glared at Carter. She lowered her voice so she wouldn’t be overheard. “What the fuck? If you think I’m going to sit there and watch you two fuck some woman, you better think again. It’s bad enough I can tell you’ve fucked a bunch of the women in this place—”
“Enough, Jordy.” He grasped her upper arm, sending unwanted electricity through her skin, and directed her toward a staircase leading to the second floor. His voice was as low and angry as hers, yet the relaxed expression on his face belied that to the rest of the room. “That’s not what I’m asking you to do. Trust me, for once during this Goddamned mess, instead of questioning everything. As for your other comment—yes, I’ve been with several women in this room. Did you honestly think I was a monk all these years?”
Well, the bastard did have a point. She’d been with a few other men since she’d shared Carter’s bed. Sometimes it was to relieve the stress and adrenaline that came with the job; other times she’d been looking for someone to make her forget what if felt like to be in the arms of a man she despised. “Fine. You can let go of my arm; I’m coming with you and won’t cause a scene. As far as anyone else knows, I’m getting an education in being a Domme.”
“Good girl.” They began their ascension to the floor above them. “This is one of the two play floors. Don’t let your jaw hit your knees as we walk through it. The observation rooms have floor-to-ceiling glass walls on one side so people outside can watch the scene. But with a flick of a switch, the glass turns into a one-way mirror, so no one can see in. The rooms are partially sound-proof so the music isn’t as loud in them. We can have a meeting in there without worrying about being overheard. Adam’s getting a scrambler from his locker just in case.”
“The place is bugged?”
“We’re in D.C.—always assume a place is bugged in D.C.”
True. She knew that already, but she was still rattled about everything that’d happened in the past twelve hours or so. Meeting the president. Carter kissing her in the White House. Him bringing her to a sex club. Her being in the sex club as if it was no big deal. Learning BDSM was not what she’d thought it was. Oh, and not to mention how Carter had made her cum while they’d both been dressed. Yeah, her brain was a big pile of mush right now while her girlie parts were tingling, wanting to know what was going to happen when they got back to Carter’s room later. If he asked, she wasn’t sure she could say no to having sex with him.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Jordyn did her best to keep her eyes from popping out of her head. She’d seen pictures of what lay before her on the website earlier, but that was nothing compared to the real deal. Male and female submissives were on various pieces of equipment, being spanked, flogged, clamped, and tortured in general. And each one was begging for more. The screams and cries of ecstasy contradicted the moans and gasps of pain in her head.
One woman was belly down on a bench, being fucked from behind by some guy while another fucked her mouth. Had Carter had been involved in threesomes like that? An image of him taking her from behind while Sparks’s cock was in her mouth flashed through her mind and startled her. She didn’t think she could
be classified as a prude, but if she were honest with herself, her experiences with sex had been relatively vanilla—a word she’d found on the BDSM website earlier. In other words, it had been a bit on the boring side, based on other people’s experiences.
While she’d had some hot sex with men before, she’d had no trouble moving on after leaving their bed the next morning. Jordyn didn’t do relationships—at all. She’d never wanted to have one with any of the men she’d been with. They’d each been a temporary fling—a way to blow off steam—and after a few days had passed, she’d pushed them from her mind. The single exception was Carter—the only one who continually popped into her head whenever sexual urges and needs stirred within her. Thinking back, she realized he’d acted like a Dom that night—ordering her to do certain things. Things she’d ended up liking—a lot. But it was clear to her now, he’d been holding back. He’d asked her if she remembered every detail of that night, and she hadn’t answered him. Like him, she could recall every time he’d made her cum as if it had happened yesterday. And that just made her even more confused than she already was. What would sex be like with him if he didn’t hold back? If neither of them did?
Chapter 14
Leading Jordyn across the huge playroom, Carter fought the urge to deck every man who drooled over her. Damn, he’d almost punched Sparks for kissing her hand of all things. He had to get his jealousy under control and focus on the real reason they were here tonight.
With his hand on her lower back, steering her in the right direction, he felt, rather than heard, every time her breathing hitched. While her outward appearance said the scenes they were passing were nothing new to her, inside, her pulse had increased and small shivers raced down her spine. And that had him wanting to strip her naked and claim her for himself, in front of everyone.
The window to Observation Room #7 was crystal clear at the moment, and Isobel Shaw was behind the glass, kneeling in a perfect present position. Her head was bowed, knees shoulder width apart, and hands on her thighs with the palms up. The brunette beauty, dressed in shiny, red boy shorts with a matching bra, was Jordyn’s age and one of the best MI6 agents in Britain’s employ. She and Sparks had been part of the Washington D.C. business, political, and BDSM communities for the past three years, and Carter was hoping they had some intel for him.
Absolving His Sins: Trident Security Book 7 Page 13