Enough [Club Pleasure 7] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Allyson Young

  “Fraser not here tonight?”

  Emily figured she must have blended in with the wallpaper, for all that her Dom noticed her, and sat perfectly still and tried not to breathe.

  “He’s catching up with Trevor, Master Jordan.”

  His eyes finally flickered to Emily, and he visibly forced a laugh. “Just Sir, Olivia. I’m not your Master anymore.”

  “It’s a term of respect you’ve earned, Master.” Olivia spoke quietly, but the connection between them was tangible and Emily wanted to cry.

  “Excuse me, Olivia. Sir.” She stood, slipping to the side of Jordan, not daring to meet his eyes. “Restroom. I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

  She didn’t wait for a response, escaping the room and rushing down the hallway, feeling the eyes of the other members tracking her progress. It was like being in grade five again. Dawdling in the restroom as long as she could, she was drying her hands when the door opened and Olivia came in.

  Smiling brightly, she nodded to the other woman and made to pass her, when Olivia spoke. “You’re good for him. He’s not so…closed off.”

  Emily threw caution to the winds, right alongside her pride. “You’re the woman he wanted to have a relationship with, the one that didn’t work out.”

  Olivia sighed. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say there was never anything on my side. Jordan gave me what I needed when I came here, but my hard limit was no sex. I loved Cameron too much to even consider it, even if I’d thrown him out of my life. And then Cameron figured things out and fixed them.”

  “But if your Master hadn’t…” Emily cursed herself for putting words in the other woman’s mouth and cursed her masochistic tendencies, too. But pain was better than dissolving into tears.

  Shaking her head, Olivia then shrugged. “I don’t know, Emily. I was in no frame of mind to understand much of anything. And I don’t even think about it now and neither should you. Why would you want to torment yourself about something that didn’t happen?”

  Good question. Maybe because the something that didn’t happen was a big freaking elephant sitting smack in the road of Emily’s fondest hopes and dreams. “It was nice to meet you. I mean it. Now I know why Jordan has established such boundaries with me.” That he continually breaks and tramples over until he remembers to back up and yank them into place. The stupid man. But maybe you aren’t enough for him, a poor substitute for this stunning woman.

  “You need to stop that,” Olivia snapped, her tone at odds with her appearance. Emily took a step back as the other woman continued. “Don’t you go retreating and leaving your Dom in the lurch. Don’t you act like a coward. I was never so happy to see him with you. He deserves to be well loved and for someone to be there for him.”

  Swallowing hard and blinking rapidly to hold back her tears, Emily nodded jerkily. Olivia, her features softening, reached out and touched her shoulder. “Don’t give up on him, honey. If you want him, fight for him.”

  Overwhelmed, Emily brushed past her and pushed through the door. Jordan leaned against the wall, surveying her with an inscrutable look. She pasted a smile on and went to him when he held out a hand. She could almost believe everything would be all right when he pulled her close.

  “You and Olivia have a chat?” The proximity was to keep their conversation private, then. Her chest hurt, and she was damned if she was going to tell him anything about her chat with the love of his life.

  “I’m fine, thanks, Sir. Had a busy day but a productive one, and I’ve been looking forward to this evening.”

  His lips compressed then tilted a fraction of an inch. “Sorry, Emily. I was caught a little off guard. I haven’t seen Olivia in awhile.”

  She wanted say it didn’t matter that he hadn’t told her Olivia was the mystery woman or that they would inevitably meet at Pleasure, but it mattered a lot. Maybe not to him, but definitely to her. She felt humiliated and the object of pity, because she hadn’t done a very good job of concealing her feelings for Jordan. The other members knew she didn’t feel like a permanent yet temporary submissive. But she couldn’t tell him it mattered, because he’d been very clear what their relationship was, and reading into all of his gestures and comments and unspoken emotion didn’t make it real.

  “I’m sure,” she said, unable to erase the sarcasm.

  “Careful, sub.”

  Ah, back to their roles again. Well, she didn’t feel much like being his submissive tonight, just as he likely didn’t want her either. There was no way she’d scene with him and submit, all the while knowing he’d be thinking of Olivia in her place. Her stomach roiled in response to her upset, something she’d thought to have gone by the wayside months ago. Old habits.

  “I’m sorry, Sir—”

  “Our room is still available,” he interrupted, and tugged her after him.

  “No.”

  Nearly quailing when he came to an abrupt stop and bent a dark look on her, she went for honesty. “I’m not feeling well. Maybe something I ate.” For sure something shoved down my throat.

  He glanced behind her, and she wondered if Olivia had exited the restroom. “You look a little pale. Are you upset?” he asked abruptly.

  Not so much anymore. Numb might be a better way to describe how she was feeling, although her stomach hadn’t calmed. “I’ve had enough of people for tonight, Sir. I truly don’t feel well. I’m going home.”

  “You’ll stay with me in my quarters. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  Her first sleepover invitation. A momentous event that should have marked a significant change in their relationship, but all it did was crush her, offered on the heels of such an awkward moment. “No, thanks. I like to be in my own bed when I’m not feeling well.”

  “Then I’ll stay with you.” Holy crap, what was this? Guilt, she decided. Jordan was an honorable man. He knew the little scene in the lounge had put him in an unfavorable light, what with ignoring her and all, not to mention she’d taken care of him when he was ill. Tit for tat. Emily reverted in that instant, her bitter response to implied obligation discrediting common sense.

  “I don’t want you to stay with me. I don’t want you to take care of me outside of the Club. That isn’t in our arrangement. I’m your Club submissive, remember? I want you to leave me alone so I can leave and go home.”

  She intuited precisely how Lois had felt when Master Jon had chased her down as Jordan drew himself up to his full height and closed the gap between them. Terror, anticipation, and arousal warred within before his intent—and then he stepped back.

  “Fraser.” The acknowledgment sounded like an epithet as Olivia’s Dom caught up to them in the hallway.

  “Sterling. How are you?” The good-looking Dom’s eyes flickered her way for a nanosecond before returning to Jordan. Emily felt like a small fawn caught between two lions as her reaction to Jordan’s approach wound down like an old watch spring, leaving her even more nauseous. When Olivia joined them, Emily used the distraction to slip away, heartsick that Jordan didn’t notice, and claimed her belongings at the door.

  “Leaving so soon?” Mallory handed her things over, and Emily wondered if there was anything behind the question, then quit second guessing.

  “Not feeling well.”

  “And your Dom isn’t taking you?”

  “He’s busy, and I’m not really that sick. Just feeling off. I need to go.”

  “But Master Maurice is with Susan, and Owyn and Rees haven’t cleared their rooms yet, although no one else is expected tonight. The door’s locked.”

  “Then can you let me out, keep an eye on me until I get to the car?”

  Mallory chewed her bottom lip, then slipped around the counter, grabbing up her cell phone. “Okay, but you go fast, and as soon as you’re in the car, you lock the doors. They’re gonna have our asses for this.”

  So Mallory knew—word traveled fast and Emily’s humiliation was complete, although she appreciated Mallory’s kindness.

  “Th
anks.” The other woman cracked the door after checking the camera feed and stepped back. Emily slipped through the opening and skipped down the steps, aware Mallory was watching and scanning the lot like Maurice would, although Mallory would use the phone in case of trouble. She gained her car without incident and clambered inside, impatiently stabbing the keys into the ignition, hammering the locks down.

  With a wave of her hand, she swung out of the parking area and headed home. Analise would curl up with her in her lonely bed and mutter in that way she had, and Emily would consider the future.

  * * * *

  “She left. Went out to the car on her own with no doorman.” Jordan noted how pale Mallory became, but didn’t give a shit. He was going to find a Dom without a partner for the night and turn the young sub over for correction. He didn’t trust himself. “You directly disobeyed Master Maurice.”

  “Emily wasn’t feeling well.”

  “All the more reason to wait for someone to make sure she got home safely!” All the chatter behind him in the lounge fell silent at his roar, and Jordan ground his teeth to say nothing further. Mallory backed up a little, but stared back resolutely. Submissives united. Well, Maurice would have something to say about that, and the other man would take care of it without losing control of his goddamned temper.

  Sucking in a calming breath, he headed upstairs to locate his phone and car keys. He didn’t care to untangle the myriad of emotions that beset him. Seeing Olivia, looking as beautiful and ethereal as ever, had taken him aback, but it was the fact she was sitting beside Emily that shut him down. Dom or not, the sight of those two women chatting, side by side, hit him where he lived, speaking to a change in his future he’d never forecasted. And Emily was uncomfortable, probably humiliated, because she was sensitive and smart, sure to pick up on what everyone around her knew, and had known for a long time. Olivia was his longed-for submissive, he wasn’t over her, and even in their defined relationship, Emily would feel second best. What a fucking mess.

  The way his sub had slipped away, allowing him time with Olivia, shamed him, because he hadn’t even attempted to include her. Not that he and Olivia had a great deal to say to one another. Perhaps too much time had passed. Or you never had much in common in the first place outside of the application and receipt of erotic pain. Shutting down that little voice, he pushed into his quarters. He’d missed Emily, too busy to spend time with her these past several nights, and she had a full schedule during the day. He’d looked forward to tonight, as she said she had, and part of his anger was the result of being disappointed in making things up to her—he knew Emily was making an excuse about being physically ill.

  Running a hand through his hair, Jordan braced himself against the back of his favorite chair. Olivia wouldn’t have said anything to Emily that was out of line—she was too good of a person for that. But his submissive had regressed. Rebuffed him. For a long moment he’d seen the old Emily, the frightened, anxious woman who hated herself, and it gutted him. If Fraser hadn’t shown up he might have turned that tide immediately, but the other man interfered with his new woman as well.

  Straightening, he gave his head a shake and collected himself. Emily was his submissive, not his woman, and there had been no reenactment. And now he was going to track down his submissive and deal with her, re-establish the status quo.

  Mallory wasn’t behind the counter. Rees quirked a brow. “Can’t say as I’ve figured out all the drama in this place yet. Subs Running Wild, maybe? Doms Fucking Up?”

  Jordan contented himself with a growl, and Rees smiled. “Owyn took Mallory off for some education, so I get to watch the door and match little tickets to goods behind the counter. Lost the coin toss.”

  Implicit in his comment was the idea that Jordan hadn’t managed his sub and set off some kind of chain reaction. Well, Rees could shove it. “The pay is the same.”

  “Ah, but not the fringe benefits. Good luck, Sterling.”

  Jordan ignored him. He didn’t require well-wishes. He required a certain blonde sub over his lap and under the flat of his hand. But he shut the heavy front doors quietly behind him and saved his ire for a definite stomp to his SUV.

  Emily’s place was in darkness when he arrived. Parking in a visitor’s slot, he took the stairs quickly and rapped on her door, pushing the bell for good measure. A shadow darkened the peephole, and she opened the door—on the latch.

  “What is it, Jordan? I was in bed.” Her hair was tousled and her face free of makeup, but there was evidence of mascara beneath either eye, and both were red rimmed. His gut clenched.

  “I’d like to come in.”

  “No. Please. I’m sorry I was rude, and I know I shouldn’t have left alone.”

  “You know how the Club works.” It was easier to focus on the rules she’d broken than hear the forlorn sound in her voice.

  “I do. I know. But I just had to…I—”

  Leaning in close, scenting her sweet fragrance, he cut her off. “Tell me why you ran away.”

  A spark of something lit her face, but he couldn’t read her before it passed. She set her lips and then answered him. “Olivia was your submissive, the relationship that didn’t work out. She’s a nice person. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. But it was awkward.”

  “And that’s why you lashed out and ran. Because your pride was hurt.” Jordan sought the relief his assumption should have given him and couldn’t feel any. He stared at Emily, wanting her to say something else, although uncertain what he might expect.

  “Yes. I was embarrassed and my pride was hurt.”

  Still no relief. Instead, he struggled with…regret. It felt like crap, even worse than his earlier shame. “That’s no excuse for your disrespect and flouting protocol. You owe me twenty, and Master Maurice might wish to add to that.”

  Her eyes rounded, and she swallowed audibly. Jordan fought the need to reassure her, and barely succeeded. Emily visibly processed a considerable amount of information, but too quickly for him to read her—again. A gnawing set up in his belly.

  “I’ll accept whatever is deemed appropriate.”

  He’d thought she was going to use her safe word, or worse, terminate their contract. Relief flooded him but was curiously misplaced. What the fuck was going on? “Tomorrow night then, Emily.”

  “Tomorrow night.” She spoke so softly the words whispered over his ears. Jordan opened his mouth to demand she invite him inside so he could—what? Explain himself? And the door closed, leaving him standing out on the street, staring at the smooth, painted panels, his mind a churning cauldron. Goddamn it.

  Forcing himself to drive slowly and carefully back to Pleasure allowed him the time to consider Emily’s reaction as well as his own, but he kept circling the events and arrived without coming to any conclusion he cared to consider. Rees gave him a look when he gained entrance to the Club but said nothing. Wise of him, because Jordan would have welcomed physical interaction of a very different sort than he’d planned for his submissive that evening.

  He ignored everyone else and went to his living space, stripping off his leathers and shirt, glad to have avoided Fraser—and Olivia. Standing in the shower didn’t improve his disposition, and he raided his private supply of Scotch to help him sleep. Even the one-hundred-year-old malt didn’t cloud the events of the night, and Jordan saw the dawn break from a hunched position on his couch as he stared out over the city.

  In the end, he decided to leave Emily’s correction to Maurice, knowing it breached protocol in some ways, but figuring he could tweak it to fit the crime. He couldn’t seem to quash the feeling it should be him over the bench or on the cross, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise. He’d wronged Emily, and should have predicted her response, protected her from herself, but hadn’t done enough. Just as he wasn’t enough for his parents, not healed enough to utilize his degree, or man enough to meet all of Olivia’s needs and keep her from going back to Fraser.

  He’d made a mistake in takin
g Emily as his Club submissive, leading her to believe she had a special place with him. He didn’t deserve something that special. And fuck, he’d be calling his best friend and crying on his shoulder next. Except he didn’t have a best friend, especially with Patrick still away with Madi, and Graham no longer part of his select group. What a crapshoot.

  At last, worn out with nothing clearer in his head, he stumbled to his room and collapsed on the rumpled bed, wishing Emily was there to ease his confusion and hold him close.

  Chapter Six

  Adding another layer of concealer to the circles beneath her eyes didn’t make any apparent difference. Her fair skin marked easily and showed any bruise or blemish. Master Jordan was careful with her. Any welts or stripes usually faded with a few hours, and those that didn’t she wore like badges of honor beneath her tailored schoolmarm clothes.

  Emily didn’t know how she was going to carry tonight off, but she would do her best. Running didn’t get a person anywhere unless they were running for their life. It might have felt that way, after meeting Olivia and seeing Jordan’s response to her, but she’d woken up this morning, so obviously had survived. Her Dom’s arrival at her door wasn’t a surprise. Her response had been. She’d barely had enough time to get home and doff her clothes, make a cup of soothing tea, and climb into bed with her cat before he’d shown up. But his arrival had underscored what she hoped was true, what she’d concluded during the drive home as her brain ticked over.

  Olivia was not an option for Jordan, hadn’t ever been an option. That didn’t mean the heart got the message—Emily might be a clear example of that memo when this all shook down, but she was Jordan’s submissive and he hadn’t terminated their connection last night. She wasn’t going to let the opinions of a few of the Club members influence her decision. She’d survived high school and college without caring about censure, and this was far more important.

  Emily was going to take her correction and then pick up the reins of her D/s relationship with Jordan, and see if she could determine the actual depth of his feelings for her. Everything she’d reviewed overnight, as she lay awake while sleep eluded her, pointed to the good possibility that her Dom cared far more for her than even he realized, apart from their contracted connection. Maybe it would be enough for her, although in her heart she knew she needed him to love her back.