Wolfe's Lair

by Alice Raine

‘You’re joking, Robyn. But yes, I was,’ Oliver murmured, his words causing my heart to flutter wildly and my breath to catch. His eyes gleamed wickedly as he looked back up at me, but then he softened his expression into a smile. ‘If Dominic thinks you’re with me he should leave you alone.’

  Suddenly, Oliver leaned towards me purposefully and I got another hit of that clean linen and soap smell. It was almost homely, and comforting somehow, and a total contradiction to where I was currently sitting.

  ‘Promise me you won’t try to get close to him just for character research.’ He was repeating his warning from just a few seconds ago, but suddenly Oliver’s tone was more demanding, and I raised my eyes to his to find him staring at me intently.

  I nodded, but Oliver frowned and shook his head. ‘Let me hear you say it. Promise me,’ he demanded, his low, commanding tone seeming to reach inside me and make me desperate to bow to his will.

  ‘Sorry. Yes, I promise,’ I vowed, and I meant it. I might want to get some ideas for my book but there was no way I wanted to get sucked into the sex life of some kinky sadist like Dominic.

  Oliver nodded, apparently satisfied by my response, but he stayed close, close enough that just a small dip of his head would bring our lips together. His gaze fluttered down towards my mouth, but before either of us could decide to make that final move, Chloe and Sasha tumbled into my side, knocking me away from Oliver as they fell against the bar in a tangled heap of giggling limbs. Well, Sasha was giggling, Chloe was scowling and gripping Sash by the elbow in an apparent attempt to stop her running back to the dance floor.

  I flicked a look at Oliver, and saw him still staring at me, but now with a look of reluctant acceptance on his face at our untimely interruption. Had he been about to kiss me? I guessed now I’d never know.

  Chloe grabbed my handbag and held it out to me. ‘Some clever idiot on the dance floor was handing out vodka shots. Sasha’s totally off her tits. Time to go, Robyn.’ Looking at Sasha, I found her grinning back at me like a buffoon, but that was nothing unusual, seeing as she’d just been surrounded by men vying for her attention. Chloe must be exaggerating like usual. Sash couldn’t be that drunk yet, we’d only been here an hour.

  ‘Ooooh … hellllo … who are you, handsome?’ Sasha slurred, suddenly looking incredibly interested in my drinking companion as she swayed back and forth and staggered in her heels towards Oliver.

  God. OK, so maybe Chloe hadn’t been exaggerating about Sasha’s drunken state. Flashing an apologetic glance at Oliver, I found him ignoring my embarrassing mates and instead staring at me intently, his blue eyes effortlessly snaring me once again. He really was so full on. Maybe Chloe’s interruption had been a timely one, because who knew what I’d have agreed to if I’d had a few more moments alone with him and his teasing smiles.

  ‘I’m sure I recognise you from somewhere,’ Chloe murmured, giving Oliver an intent look.

  He briefly returned her gaze, then shook his head. ‘I don’t think we’ve met.’

  Chloe narrowed her eyes, and shrugged. ‘Nah, I think you’re right. You probably just have one of those faces.’

  One of those faces? A ridiculously handsome one, is that what she meant?

  Sasha staggered again, and Cloe grabbed her and cursed, giving me a pointed “hurry up” look.

  ‘Looks like we’re leaving,’ I said quietly. ‘Thanks for the uh … the chat.’

  ‘It was a pleasure, Robyn with a y,’ Oliver murmured, his eyes twinkling in that teasing way that I’d already become accustomed to. Standing to move away from us, he dipped his head close to my face and whispered his parting words, his lips brushing across the shell of my ear as he did so. ‘I’m here most Fridays, so you know where to find me if you want more.’ And with that he was gone, leaving me spluttering and speechless in his wake.

  If I wanted more?

  More what?

  Information? Questions answered? Or more, as in the implied more … A sexual, dark, deviant kind of more where we picked up from the near kiss of a few moments ago?

  Swallowing loudly, I watched his broad back as he strode away from me. Good grief. I was feeling ridiculously flustered as I slid from my stool to leave, tottering around on my high-heeled boots almost as badly as Sasha. But even above the noise of the music I could have sworn I heard Oliver’s deep, wicked chuckle behind me as we left.

  Chapter Seven

  Oliver

  As mischievous as it was, I couldn’t help the wicked laugh that escaped me as I saw Robyn’s flustered stumble upon leaving. My ego would like to credit her state to my effect on her, but realistically it could easily have been down to the stupidly high-heeled boots she was wearing tonight.

  Stupidly high, but so fucking sexy that an image of them clinging to the tight muscles in her legs would forever be burned into my brain. ¡Dios! Getting to see her wearing those boots and nothing else was now firmly embedded at the top of my fantasy list.

  Returning to my usual seat at the far end of the bar, I ordered another whiskey and swirled the amber liquid in the glass as I pondered the events of the evening. Robyn with a y. My lips pursed as I created an image of her in my mind again; those wide, beautiful eyes of hers had drawn me in all evening. The colour was fascinating: a mix of grey, blue, and green which seemed to swirl and change with her mood. Her infinitely tempting lips were almost as perfect, as were her arousing blushes and that long, slightly curling brown hair that would no doubt feel incredible wrapped around my wrist as I thrust into her from behind. The vision made my cock jerk and I shook my head in amusement. Yes, her hair was quite the temptation. I’d done well not to reach out and touch it as I’d so wanted to.

  Her presence here tonight had certainly cheered up an otherwise drab evening, that was for sure. My nights here were mostly spent on my own, or talking to David about business. Occasionally some of the old-school regulars – who I now classed as friends – would make an appearance and we’d share a few drinks, but as a rule I didn’t really socialise while at the club. It was a personal choice, my way to keep business and pleasure separate, but after years of politely dismissing the people who had tried to start up conversations with me – mostly women – the regulars had quickly picked up on it and now left me alone.

  But Robyn had had me ditching my rules and making a first move. As I’d sat with her I’d seen a few regulars casting curious looks our way, and I couldn’t blame them, really. I never started up conversations with the new customers, and in the last eight years it had been unheard of for me to hold someone’s hand or start a romantic liaison within the walls of the club.

  Recalling Dominic’s blatant move towards Robyn made my teeth grind together in irritation, but then when I remembered how shocked he’d looked to see me with a woman, and holding her hand, I couldn’t help but smirk.

  She’d made the move to link her fingers with mine, though, which had been an interesting play on her part. A show of her hidden bravery, and one I could only assume meant that even though we had only just met, she trusted me more than Dominic. Or perhaps she felt the binding connection between us, too.

  Why had I felt the need to protect her from Dominic? This wasn’t just an easy lay sex club; the rules here at Twist were rigid when it came to non-members. If by some miracle he had persuaded her to go to one of the private rooms with him she would have first been interviewed by David, or myself, to check for compatibility and ensure the safety of all involved. She wasn’t at risk, not really. He might have made her feel uncomfortable with some heavy chat-up lines, but really, was that any worse than me? I’d definitely seen her squirming under my attention a few times, too.

  The urge to pass her my business card as she left, or try to get her number had been incredibly strong, but the strange look that her friend had been giving me had distracted me – I’d thought she was going to vomit on me, and that was not something I could look away from. I was normally far more focused than that, so I was kicking myself for my slip. I could have been ho
lding Robyn’s number in my hand right now, but instead I sat here alone, hoping that perhaps she would come back in at some point to continue her research. The lack of control over the situation was incredibly irritating.

  Now Robyn was gone, the club around me seemed dull and uninspiring. The sight of men trying to charm women, or women draping themselves across potential partners, left me cold. Throwing back the last of my whisky, I stood and buttoned my jacket. It was time to head home, and perhaps if I were lucky, I’d see Robyn waiting in the taxi queue and could pass her my business card, or even offer to see her home safely. With that thought in my mind, I bid David goodnight and strode from the club with a grin on my face.

  Chapter Eight

  Robyn

  Six in the morning felt like it came around in the blink of an eye. We hadn’t been particularly late back from the club, stumbling in just before midnight in the end, but with my creative juices flowing from all the new book ideas careening around my head, sleep had been almost impossible.

  Book ideas hadn’t been the only thing keeping me awake. Oliver Wolfe, Mr Cool and Calm, had been on my mind, too. He’d also got my juices flowing, but in a rather different way. He’d managed to flick all my switches at once; in some ways he terrified me, or rather, his bedroom tastes did, but on the flip side he attracted and aroused me like no one I’d ever met.

  Once the darkness of my room had settled around me last night, I’d remembered how his deep, rough voice had made me quiver, and how his intense gaze had sent shivers of lust running across my skin. I’d tried and failed to get him out of my head until the clock on my bedside table read 2:00 a.m. and I was still tossing and turning. In the end, I had resorted to easing the throbbing between my legs with my one and only vibrator. It had done the job, but it hadn’t felt as good as his touch no doubt would have. Perhaps I should invest in a vibrator collection like Sasha’s to give me some variety.

  Thinking of the idea of Oliver touching me caused my skin to flush with heat all over again, and I threw off the covers with an impatient grumble. I fanned my face and tried to calm my raised breathing. Sleep clearly wasn’t going to happen, so I may as well try to get some of my ideas down on my laptop while they were fresh in my mind.

  I rolled out of bed and stretched, my muscles complaining that I hadn’t had nearly enough time below the duvet yet. There was no point trying for more, though. My brain was way too active for sleep.

  As I stepped from the rug onto the hard, wooden floor I realised my feet were sore, too, and after examining the blisters on my heels I grimaced. My gorgeous but hideously painful new boots sat in the corner of my room looking all sexy and innocent, but I threw them a disgusted glance and hobbled towards the kitchen in search of coffee.

  As I got the milk from the fridge, my gaze passed across a photograph stuck to the door with a magnet. It was of me and my family, taken recently at a gathering for my brother Tom’s thirtieth birthday; my parents were smiling at me from the image, and my brother stood by my side with his characteristic grin spreading on his face and a ridiculous birthday hat on his head. The sheer normality of the image made me pause, then blush as I wondered what they would make of where I’d spent last night. God. My parents were so normal; living in their semi in Pinner with their cat, Ginge, a big garden, and an occasional night spent down the local pub.

  I was pretty sure my mum would pass out if I told her I’d visited a sex club and been chatted up by an older man who liked to dominate women in bed.

  A nervous giggle rose in my throat, and so, trying to push thoughts of my family aside, I grabbed the milk and turned away from the fridge ready to refocus on what I wanted to write today.

  The stimulus of Club Twist had certainly given me plenty to get started on with my book, that was for sure, but as I stood waiting for my coffee to brew it was visions of Oliver that once again filled my mind. My fingers tightened around the mug in my hands as I recalled his confidence and intense demeanour. It had been a little intimidating to start with, but something about the way he’d so effortlessly taken control of the evening was definitely attractive.

  Luckily, creativity and caffeine went hand in hand for me, so I filled my cup and padded into the lounge to fire up my shiny new laptop.

  I moved around the apartment as quietly as possible, knowing that Chloe would be sleeping for a few more hours, and that Sasha probably wouldn’t be emerging from her bed – and hangover – until well into the afternoon.

  Sitting at my computer, I took a deep breath, and began to type.

  Three hours later, I sat back from my laptop and chewed on a fingernail as I let out an aggravated grunt. My ideas had been flowing brilliantly, but this part was getting decidedly tricky.

  ‘What’s up?’ croaked Sasha from her prone position in an armchair across the room. She had appeared from her bedroom about an hour ago, and after mumbling a groggy “good morning” and vowing never to drink vodka again, she had retrieved an ice pack from the fridge, clapped it to her forehead, and plonked down into the armchair.

  She hadn’t moved since.

  This was Sasha’s trademarked hangover recovery procedure. That plus a Chinese takeaway, which she’d probably ask me to order in another hour or so. Chloe was up, too, but currently in the shower, so I felt able to talk to Sasha about my current quandary.

  ‘I’m trying to write my first proper sex scene. I’m loosely using some of the stuff we saw last night for inspiration, but I’m stuck,’ I admitted, a blush blooming on my cheeks as I reread the text I’d written.

  ‘Stuck with what?’ she murmured, still concealed firmly behind her ice pack. At least with her eyes hidden it was less embarrassing for me to explain what I was struggling with.

  ‘Well, I don’t want to use the words “penis” or “vagina”, they sound so clinical, but I don’t know what words to use instead,’ I explained, feeling my blush deepen.

  ‘Hmmm … gotcha. Depends on the context, I think. Read me what you’ve written, and I’ll help out.’ There was a slight shift as Sasha made herself more comfortable, but I still couldn’t see her face, so, feeling brave, I cleared my throat and began to read out what I’d written so far.

  ‘The heavy beat of the music in the club only seemed to add to her excitement as sweat trickled down between her breasts and mingled deliciously with the remaining oil from her earlier massage. Taking advantage of her slick skin, the stranger wasted no time in sliding his fingers across her nipples, massaging them into needy peaks before trailing his hands to her exposed back and pulling her towards him so their naked hips clashed together, making her buck against him wildly.

  ‘Fingers of onlookers stretched to join in, tugging on her nipples and fondling her until they were red and sensitive, and she was writhing below them, desperate for more. The stranger growled possessively, and pushed the intruding hands away before he captured one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard, making her whimper from the beautiful mix of pleasure and pain that darted across her skin. Using his palm on her stomach, he pressed her willing body back against the hard, wooden podium so she was spread before him, laid out like an offering. Kicking her legs apart he exposed her slick …

  ‘Bleep!’ I made a comedy buzzer noise to indicate that I didn’t know what word to use to describe my character’s anatomy, then continued reading.

  ‘His throbbing … bleep! … pressed against her pliant flesh before driving forcefully into her in one hard thrust, causing them both to cry out and gasp in a pleasure that was shared by all those who were watching from the sidelines …’

  Sitting back with a huff, I shrugged. ‘It carries on, but I’m stuck on words for their anatomy. Any ideas?’ I looked across at Sasha, and was surprised to see that she was now sitting up, staring at me with her mouth hanging open, the ice pack discarded on the floor by her feet.

  Wincing at her gawking expression, I looked away from her as another blush rushed to my cheeks and my shoulders slumped. ‘Oh God, it’s utter crap, isn’t
it?’ I groaned. ‘It’s only my first attempt, though, so maybe I can improve it?’ I mumbled awkwardly, embarrassed by how stupid I was for ever thinking I was capable of writing something sexy.

  I barely ever had sex; how the hell did I think I’d be capable of writing it?

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Sasha exclaimed, her voice sounding painfully raspy from all the shouting last night.

  ‘Yeah, I guess that’s the problem, I don’t have a clue what I’m talking about,’ I agreed glumly, my shoulders slumping as I leaned forwards and rested my forehead on the dining table in defeat.

  The sound of Sasha’s chair scraping the floor made me look up again. She jumped up, waving her arms around as if she was attempting to waft away a swarm of wasps at the same time as making a loud spluttering noise. Wow, hungover Sasha jumping around was not a usual occurrence. ‘No! That’s not what I meant. That was bloody brilliant, Robyn. Holy shit, it was hot! Talk about voyeuristic. Let me see the rest.’

  Before I knew it, Sasha had crossed the room, shouldering me out of the way so she could lean down and avidly read the rest of the paragraph.

  I blinked several times as I watched her greedily soaking up my words. Really? She liked it? I reread the paragraph myself, and have to say it was slightly arousing as the text conjured up erotic images in my mind. I hadn’t actually witnessed this exact thing last night, but it was loosely based on the couple having sex that I’d seen during the tour Oliver had given me. Obviously, as well as arousing me, the scene had also inspired me. Apparently, I was a voyeur. Who knew it? That would surprise Oliver.

  Hmm. Oliver. So I was thinking about him yet again. It was slightly disconcerting that my mind kept replaying the moment when I’d felt his hot breath flutter across my lips and thought he was going to kiss me. I bet he would have, too, if Chloe and Sasha hadn’t interrupted us. The look in his eyes had been one of pure and utter determination.

  Now that image really was arousing for me, but with Sasha right here next to me it was hardly the time to linger on it. Blinking several times, I shut Oliver out of my mind – for now, anyway – and tried to focus back on my writing.