by Alice Raine
Above his collar things just got better. I’d thought he was good-looking from across the bar, but wow, now he was this near, he kinda took my breath away. He was a seriously attractive guy – well, to my tastes anyway. His hair was dark, cut short on the sides, but left to be a little spiky and unruly on top, which didn’t really match his super smart attire, but looked utterly gorgeous.
His face was really striking, too. Like a perfect incarnation of the exact type of man I was attracted to. A square jaw and dark eyes that looked black in the dim light of the bar, and older than me by a good ten years. The only minor imperfection was his slightly crooked nose, but the fact that he wasn’t quite perfect made him more accessible somehow, and just seemed to add to his overall appeal.
The feel of him uncurling his fingers from my elbow snapped me out of my ogling, and I cleared my throat in embarrassment. Recalling his earlier question, I finally found my voice. ‘Um, yeah, it’s my first time. Am I that obvious?’ I replied with a small grimace and an awkward smile as I tried to stop gawking at him like a total idiot.
‘Not particularly,’ he replied with a shrug, placing his drink down on the bar. ‘You just seemed a little jumpy and wide-eyed and I don’t recall having seen you in here before.’ From the twitch I saw at the corner of his mouth, it seemed that he was attempting to suppress a smile at my expense.
Wide-eyed? It was hardly surprising considering the things that were going on in front of my eyes, was it? Given all the erotic outfits around me, and blatant displays of almost-but-not-quite-sex on the dance floor, I was about as far from my comfort zone as I’d ever been.
Ignoring my skittering heartbeat and clammy palms, I reeled in my nerves and tried to appear unfazed and calm. ‘So, do you come here often?’ As soon as the words were out of my mouth I realised that it had sounded exactly like a cheesy chat-up line, and my already wide eyes boggled even more. Unfazed and calm? Ha, hardly! Stupid, stupid, stupid girl! A furious blush rose on my cheeks and I started to blurt out an attempt at covering my blunder.
‘I … I didn’t mean, you know … I meant …’ The stranger next to me merely continued to suppress his amusement and took a sip of his drink, remaining cool and calm whilst I sank deeper and deeper into a pit of fidgety awkwardness.
Bloody Sasha! I was going to kill her later for persuading me to come here. Seeing my continued panic, Mr Cool and Calm proceeded to roll his eyes at me and gave a strangely alluring tight-lipped smile that immediately transformed his face into something even more appealing. It made me want to see what a real, full-blown grin would look like. I bet it would be pretty phenomenal.
He must have taken my silence as continued panic because he shook his head and began to try to reassure me. ‘Breathe. Calm down, I know what you meant.’ He definitely had an exotic lilt to his voice that I couldn’t quite identify; Portuguese or Spanish, perhaps. But whatever it was, I liked it, and it merely seemed to add to his mysterious appeal. ‘And in answer to your very poorly worded question, yes, I come here quite often.’
‘Why?’ I seemed to have no control over my mouth tonight, because the word had escaped my lips before I’d even processed it. What a ridiculous thing to say. Why the hell did most guys go to sex clubs? For sex, obviously. Although why a guy as handsome as this needed to come to a club to get sex I had no idea. He must have women falling at his feet on a daily basis.
‘Actually, not for the reason you’re thinking,’ he replied with a dark smile, apparently reading my mind. ‘I’m one of the owners.’
One of the owners? ‘Oh.’ Oh. Even though he’d basically just said he didn’t come here for sex, if he was one of the owners then surely he must be into some of the … stuff… going on around us? ‘Does that mean you …?’ But my words failed me and I merely waved a hand around in the air instead. I mean, coming out with a question like, ‘Are you a sexual deviant?’ is hardly polite conversation, is it?
‘One of my friends offered me part ownership a few years back. It was a good deal, plenty of prospect for profits, so I took it.’
My eyebrows rose. He took another slow sip of his drink, and as he did so my eyes became almost fixated on his lips. They were sinfully kissable. As he lowered the glass, my gaze shifted to the column of his throat and I watched him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down behind a thin layer of dark stubble and tempting me to reach out and run a finger down it. My hand even twitched in my lap but, thankfully, my sanity prevailed and I resisted the urge.
If this place were an investment for him then maybe he didn’t make use of the club in the way I had been thinking, and maybe I could consider a little flirtation with him after all.
‘I’m not really active in the scene any more, but if I partake I do so as a dominant,’ he said smoothly, making me gulp and do a U-turn on my previous thought. Drawing in a deep breath, I tried to look unaffected by his declaration, but I was actually quite shocked. He looked so … so normal, and yet he’d just confessed that he was into the kinky stuff, and from his relaxed demeanour he was completely at ease with this fact.
From the intensity of his stare he seemed to be watching my reaction with interest, so I gave a casual shrug and nodded. ‘Right. I see,’ I said automatically. Although I didn’t really see. How could I? This was the exact reason I was here in the first place, to learn about people just like him because I knew nothing.
‘What about you?’ he enquired smoothly.
‘I’m not a dominant!’ I squawked immediately, my eyes opening even wider than before, as I swallowed far too loudly to ever be considered normal or ladylike.
‘No? Really? I would never have guessed,’ he remarked sardonically, clearly teasing me because of my high-strung state. God help me, I’d never behaved more like a prattling baboon in all of my life. ‘You’re not a dominant.’ He paused, giving me another ironic twitch of his lip which almost but not quite passed as a smile. ‘So what are you? A submissive? A voyeur? Or just a girl in the wrong bar?’
Glancing down at my phone, I saw the notes I’d been making and angled the screen towards him with a small raise of my shoulders. ‘None of the above. I’m a writer.’ I hadn’t thought my words were particularly shocking, but no sooner had he looked at my phone then Mr Cool and Calm didn’t look anywhere near as composed. His expression blackened as his entire frame tensed, his back straightening even further than before, and his eyes narrowing.
He slid from his stool and guided me down from my seat with a firm hand around my elbow. The grip instantly made me wince, not from pain, but from the searing heat that it sent coursing through my skin again. What was that reaction about?
Jerking my head up, I saw that he was momentarily staring at where we were connected, his nostrils flaring as if he perhaps felt the burning sparks, too, but then, noticing my attention, he blinked, and the shared moment was lost as his face iced up again.
‘We don’t allow journalists in here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’ His tone had lost all of its earlier warmth, and sounded so cold and distant that it felt like someone had run an ice cube down my spine. Goose pimples flooded my skin, but I barely had time to even shiver before he indicated towards the exit with a sharp jerk of his chin.
Chapter Five
Robyn
Quickly trying to engage my brain before I found myself skidding across the wet pavement outside, I frantically shook my head. ‘I’m not a journalist!’ I squeaked, feeling slightly intimidated by both his threatening demeanour, and size. God, he was so tall! Or perhaps that was just because he was standing, and I was sagging on wobbly knees, only being held upright by his grip on my elbow.
‘I … I … I write romance novels … I’m just here to learn a bit about the scene, I’m not writing about your club … I promise.’ And believe me, this promise held way more truth to it than all of Sasha’s “pinkie swears” added together.
‘You’re an author?’ he hissed through gritted teeth, even though his expression still burned with intensit
y. Gosh, I could really see the whole “dominant” side of him coming out now. This guy was so intense, and I was unable to think of doing anything but replying to him immediately.
‘Yes. Um … I don’t suppose a man, um, like you would read many women’s romances, but in the last few years there’s been a huge turn in the genre. All the publishers seem to want erotic novels with bondage and spanking and …’ I paused to grab a breath, realising that in my panic I had just stuttered the sentence without so much as one inhale. ‘And I don’t know anything about that, so I thought I might be able to get some ideas so I can write about it.’
One of his dark eyebrows was raised as he studied me, apparently assessing if I was being genuine or not, and even though he was obviously irritated, I felt a stirring of lust unfurl in my belly. He quite literally embodied everything I found attractive in a man: tall, broad, older, dark hair, strong jaw, and a confidence that bordered on arrogance. ‘So, you’re writing a book on the BDSM scene?’
All thoughts of desire fled my mind at his words, and I felt my cheeks blanch of colour. BDSM scene? I wasn’t entirely clear what that meant, but I was fairly sure it was the path I was aiming for with my book. ‘Umm … sort of. I just want to write a romance book that’s a bit kinkier than the stuff I used to write,’ I admitted, realising what a ridiculous idea this had all been. I was definitely going to kill Sasha later.
‘I see.’ Mr Cool and Calm still seemed to be weighing up whether to have me chucked out or not, so I gave him my best attempt at a smile and hoped he could see that I was telling the truth.
Tilting his head to the side, he watched me closely, and finally nodded before leading me back to our stools at the bar. ‘I apologise for my overreaction. As I’m sure you can imagine, the press doesn’t always write about us in the most favourable of lights.’ As he continued to assess me, the grip on my elbow softened, his thumb now caressing me instead of ensnaring me. It was as if he were somehow backing up his apology with his touch, and as much as I knew I should tug my arm away, I didn’t. The contact warmed me, sending a shudder of desire flying through my body and causing my breath to hitch.
Our eyes met, and there was a second or two where I felt certain that I was transparent to him and that he could see exactly how much I was lusting after him. The problem was, he was affecting me so violently that I didn’t even know how to hide my feelings from him.
‘I hope you can forgive me?’ His words were low and velvety smooth, and his touch was making me feel so good that I would probably have forgiven anything at that point, but truthfully there wasn’t really anything to pardon, so I nodded jerkily.
‘And this little research mission has been prompted by other books on the market?’
Swallowing hard, I tried to ignore the distracting sensation of his warm palm on my arm and nodded jerkily. ‘Yeah. I think they’re targeted at women, so you probably haven’t read them, but you must at least have heard of Fifty Shades of …’
Before I could finish, Mr Cool and Calm smiled and laughed, the grip disappearing from my arm as he suddenly relaxed back into his stool with an amused look and took a sip of his drink.
Luckily, my legs had regained most of their composure by that point, so I took a step sideways and slid back up onto my chair, glad of the reprieve it gave my wobbly knees.
‘I’ve read it,’ he said with a smirk that made me widen my eyes in surprise. ‘Why do you look so surprised? It’s a book written about a man with supposedly similar sexual interests as me. Of course I read it,’ he explained with a shrug. ‘I discovered one main thing: I prefer doing kinky things rather than reading about them.’
Wow. I didn’t expect that response at all. His mood had swung quicker than a pendulum, and his mention of “doing kinky things” caused my cheeks to flare with colour as I imagined exactly what it might be that he liked to do.
Now that I was fairly sure he wasn’t going to throw me out, I decided to see if I could learn anything from him for my book. ‘So you know the type of stuff I’m trying to research, then.’ I exhaled in relief before deciding to act whilst the iron was hot. ‘Can I ask why you like the things you do?’
He placed his tumbler back on the bar, then turned to me and finally put me out of my misery by laying me low with a real genuine grin. It was ten times more stunning than I had imagined, and seemed to cause my brain to short-circuit. Holy smokes, his eyes were burning with warmth now, and as the spotlights from the dance floor shined across us I realised his irises were dark blue, not black, or brown as I’d thought earlier. They were like soft denim, but I didn’t get to lose myself in them for long because I suddenly realised he was holding out his hand to me.
‘Perhaps we should do some introductions before you start your interrogation?’ he enquired lightly, his tone full of amusement.
Oops. Perhaps I’d been a bit too keen to get my story. Looking down at his outstretched palm, I knew I should take it, but I hesitated. Shaking hands was the polite thing to do, but I couldn’t help thinking that touching him wasn’t the best of ideas; he’d already sent my senses wild with his last touch to my arm, and witnessing his grin had nearly had me salivating all over him.
Adding further skin on skin contact to the mix wouldn’t ease my peculiar attraction to him at all, I was sure of that.
It would be outright rude to ignore his gesture, though, so finally, I tentatively placed my palm in his. The same tingly heat instantly spread through my body, and a small gasp escaped my lips as his fingers closed around mine, warm and strong and so large that they completely dwarfed my tiny digits. I couldn’t help but lower my eyes and stare at our joined hands as my body seemed to come alive.
His touch felt so good.
Secure, and … right somehow.
Still shocked by my reactions to this man, I jerkily raised my head, praying that my expression didn’t give away the tumble of emotions I was currently feeling.
Looking back to his face, I saw one of his eyes twitch slightly, as if he was also trying to diagnose what was occurring between us, but also drawing a blank. Then he cleared his throat and nodded his head once in greeting. ‘I’m Oliver Wolfe.’
I digested his name with a small smile. Wolfe. It actually suited him perfectly, because he seemed just as predatory and strong as his animal namesake. ‘I’d be more than happy to help you get acquainted with our world.’
Get “acquainted” with his world? Did he mean physically? Like treat me to some kinky sex? Because as tempting as sex with a man as captivating as him might be, I wasn’t sure I was really in his sexual league. Seeing me blanch at his suggestion, he chuckled again, giving a mild shake of his head. ‘As appealing as that idea in your head might be, I can assure you I meant purely in terms of assisting you with your research. You can ask me questions and I’ll answer them as best I can.’
Phew. Relief flooded through me, coloured also by a blush of embarrassment, because he’d just confirmed that he really could read what was on my mind.
A tiny tinge of regret chased away my embarrassment as I looked him up and down again. I was pretty sure that Mr Big Bad Wolfe here would put my previous five lovers to shame with his skills in the sack; his confidence seemed to scream of sexual experience and competence.
‘That would be great,’ I responded with a keen nod, trying not to look down at where our hands were still joined. Surely this was overly long for a handshake? Why hadn’t he let go of my hand yet?
‘So, your name?’ he enquired softly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as a prompt.
Oh! I hadn’t introduced myself yet. That must be why he was still holding on. ‘I’m Robyn. With a y,’ I added, feeling a shy smile spread on my lips, and wondering why I suddenly felt the need to duck my head and try to break the magnetic bond between our eyes. ‘As in it’s spelt with a y. Not like the bird,’ I babbled to cover my growing embarrassment.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Robyn with a y,’ he murmured in amusement, before giving my hand one last
squeeze and finally letting it go with a low chuckle.
My skin immediately felt chilled from the loss of his touch, but I consoled myself by absorbing the lovely sound of his laughter. It was deep and raspy, like perhaps he smoked, or used to smoke, although he certainly didn’t smell of cigarettes. So far, the only aromas I’d detected coming from his direction were that of crisp linen and soap, both of which had appealed to me and made me want to lean in closer.
‘How about starting with a tour?’ he offered, gesturing around the club with his hand. ‘We could walk and talk?’
‘Oh, OK, thanks.’
I slid from my stool and walked with Oliver as he made his way towards one side of the club. ‘So, you wanted to know why I’m a dominant?’ he asked, glancing down at me and clearly loving how much I was squirming from embarrassment again, but I stayed brave, bit down on my lower lip, and nodded.
His eyes strayed to my trapped lip and darkened, and for some reason I got the distinct impression that he was imagining biting it himself. Would I enjoy that? My core clenched as my mind was instantly flooded with erotic visions of him pouncing forwards and snagging my lower lip with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth and capturing me in a kiss. From the way my heart rate had rocketed I’d say that, yes, I would definitely enjoy that. There was an audible “pop” as I hastily released my lip, causing me to wince with embarrassment at my sensual daydream, at the same time that Oliver let out another of those delicious chuckles.
I’d place money on the fact that he’d read my mind again, but thankfully he didn’t comment this time. ‘I’ll answer your question, but first let me ask you this, what is your favourite food?’
Was he planning on asking me out for dinner? I was slightly thrown by the change of topic but with a shrug I decided to go along with it. ‘Uh … Chinese, I guess.’