Club Alpha: BDSM Romance Boxed Set

by Amy Valenti

  The club. The scene. J .

  Amy pushed the thoughts out of her mind. Whatever. She would just have to find a new story to save her job. Easy, right?

  Instead of worrying about it, Amy got ready for her day. She brushed her teeth, washing off the crusty old makeup and peeling off her dirty clothes. The cool shower felt good flowing over her aching body.

  It wasn't until she was dressed and went to check her phone that she remembered. The email! It took forever for the stupid phone to reboot. When it finally did, she hurriedly opened her email.

  There was just one.

  Meet me at 2 pm.

  -J

  That was it. No where or why. But still, Amy's heart pounded in her chest. She didn't know why. Why should it matter if she sees that jerk again? Why should she even bother?

  But still, she found herself getting ready. Amy smoothed her hair in the mirror and changed out of her comfortable Saturday clothes into something a bit more fashionable.

  She looked at herself in the mirror. A skirt hugging her hips and a sheer blouse were not exactly BDSM wear, but who was she kidding? He knew she was a fake. At least she didn't have to wear those heels again.

  Amy hopped in her car. Her mind raced. What exactly was this meeting going to be about? Actually, she didn't even know why she was going. Why bother? He already knew that she was a fraud.

  There was just something about him that drew her in. In ways she hadn't even expected.

  She shook her head. No, this was about her job. Amy wanted this story. She needed it. Of course. That's what this was about.

  The car worked its way up the long, winding path to the mansion. The closer she got, the more her stomach clenched. The butterflies seem to have worked all the way up to her throat, and she could barely breathe.

  It was a relief just to step out of the car and hand the keys over to the valet.

  "Nice to see you again Ms. Lopez," he said.

  Amy cringed. That name just brought up bad feelings.

  "It's Cryan. Amy Cryan. Mr..?"

  Amy waited for him to answer.

  "You can call me Mr. Farrow," he said with a wide grin.

  "Okay then Mr. Farrow," she said.

  "Very well, Miss Cryan," he said and pushed the mansion's doors open.

  Amy had to stifle a laugh that was building up inside of her. She got the feeling that Mr. Farrow didn't have a lot of people ask his name. Well, maybe he would put in a good word for her with the boss.

  Inside, the club looked entirely different. With no one there and light streaming in, it looked like a proper mansion. The walls were built out of rich, dark wood that shone with polish. The curtains were made of yards and yards of silk that let just the right amount of sunlight into the room. Just behind them, Amy could see the thicker, darker curtains that must be used to blackout the mansion at night.

  Just exactly how much money did this J have to run a place like this? And how clean was that money? Amy's mind was already racing to the next part of her investigative journalism.

  "This way miss," a voice said.

  It jolted Amy out of her reverie. Somehow, it seems like another servant just jumped out of the woodwork. How many did he have, anyway?

  "He's waiting for you," the servant said.

  He led Amy to a door that she had never seen before. After pausing a moment, he knocked and pressed the door open. Then he disappeared. Amy was all alone.

  What was waiting for her on the other side of the door? She didn't know, but she wasn't going to stand around waiting to find out. So Amy took a deep breath and walked inside.

  It was stunning. The whole far wall of the room was a giant window. Even though she had seen countless pictures of the mansion, Amy had never noticed that it had a garden. The window looked out over the garden. The beautiful view showed off carefully manicured topiary, seasonal flowers, and even the odd butterfly. It was like a scene straight out of a fairytale.

  Except for one thing. In front of the window was a large, solid, wooden desk. And sitting behind that desk, facing the window, was J.

  Maybe if she left now, he wouldn't notice she'd even been there.

  Chapter 8

  "I should have kicked you out the moment I saw you," J said.

  The words pierced right through her heart, but Amy knew it was true. J turned around to face her. There was no smile on his lips.

  "I should have known better than to allow a masquerading journalist into my club, but there was something about you…" J said.

  He stared at Amy, fixing her with his eyes. She felt like she couldn't move.

  "How did you know-"

  "You journalists have your way of figuring out things, and I have mine," J said.

  He stood up from the desk and started to walk towards Amy.

  "So what were you going to do? Were you planning to call the police, expose me, and have me punished for my sick, perverted ways?"

  Amy's mouth gaped open. She didn't know what to say. Honestly, she hadn't actually thought it out that far.

  "Where did you do your research?" he asked. "Did you read the same books everyone reads? The ones where they use cable ties for bondage and the Dom knows exactly what his sub wants at all times?"

  J came closer. His height towered over her, and even in the broad daylight, he was imposing. Especially now. Amy could see the anger in J's eyes. It was scary, to see him riled up like this.

  The two of them looked into each other's eyes. His dark ones fixed her light ones, and for a second she felt something. There wasn't just anger in that look. No, there was something else.

  Before she could figure out what it was, J went back to his desk. He sat down and started to pull out a stack of papers from his drawers. He motioned for Amy to sit down.

  "We weren't all raped and abused, so I'm sorry you won't get to write your sob story," J said. "Do you even know why we call this The Sanctuary?"

  Amy's cheeks burned. "No," she said.

  "I didn't think so," J said. He tapped his fingers against the wood of the desk. "It's because we want everyone to feel safe here. Regardless of what they're into. And you barging into that scene certainly didn't make Lucy or anyone feel safe."

  "But she was crying, how was I supposed to know-"

  J put his hand up and Amy's voice stuck in her throat. What was she supposed to say?

  "I shouldn't even be doing this," J said under his voice.

  "What?"

  "Normally, we only make contracts once. You break them and you're out," J said. "But I'm offering you a second chance."

  He slid the papers to Amy across the desk. She touched her fingers to them gingerly, as if they would burn her. Another contract? Why?

  "You still want to do research for your little article, right?" J said. "So then sign the contract. Spend one week with me as your Dom."

  Amy's mind couldn't grasp the words. Sure, one night at a sex club was one thing, but a whole week as someone's submissive? His submissive? But wait, didn't Mimi say J didn't take submissives? Just thinking of spending a whole week with J, doing whatever it is that Doms and submissives do sent a tingle down Amy's spine.

  Amy scanned over the contract. The paper was thick and heavy. For some reason, that made her even more hesitant to sign it. As if it made any difference. On thick or thin paper, it would still be just as binding.

  As she looked over it, words jumped out at her. Hard Limits. Soft Limits. Safe Words. They went on and on. Bondage. Nipple torture?

  That's where Amy had to draw the line. She slammed the paper down on the desk.

  "Don't you dare try to hurt me!" she yelled. "If you hurt me, I'll storm right out of here and expose you as the sadistic bastard you are!"

  J smiled. Amy had expected a different reaction. Anger. Something.

  "Dear Ms. Lopez…Excuse me, Ms. Cryan," J said. "I wouldn't dream of hurting you."

  Yeah, he better not. Amy picked up a pen, happy that she had put her foot down.

  "At least n
ot unless that was exactly the thing you were screaming out for me to do."

  Amy dropped the pen. Her breath caught in her throat. Why was she feeling this way? She would never scream out for him? Right? This was just about work.

  She picked up the pen again and ignored him. Signing this was her ticket to job stability. Amy pressed down and watched as the ink spread across the page. There. It was finished.

  Chapter 9

  J reached across and collected the papers. He peeked at the signature and smiled for a moment before sliding them into a drawer.

  Then it was just him and Amy. The silence was enough to choke her. He was her Dom, and she was his sub. Whatever that meant. So what was next? Were they just going to sit there?

  "Now," J said.

  He stood up and walked towards Amy. She followed him with her eyes, a little apprehensive. Just what exactly did he have in mind? She held her breath.

  "I thought that we might try a little experiment," he said.

  J suddenly jerked Amy's chair backwards. She let out a yelp and clutched onto the arms. Her fingernails dug in so hard she almost thought they would break. Then J stood in the space between Amy and the desk. He was directly in front of her, just inches away.

  As Amy looked up at him, her throat went dry. She wasn't sure she wanted to participate in this so-called experiment.

  "Close your eyes," J said.

  "What?" Amy said. "Why?"

  J crossed his arms and leaned back against the desk.

  "Look, I'm not saying that you have to do every single thing I ask you to without question, but we have to start somewhere," he said. "All I'm asking you to do is to close your eyes."

  A grin slowly spread across his face.

  "Trust me."

  Should she? Amy ran over the situation in her head. She was alone, with a man known for running a sex club, in his mansion. She had just signed a contract agreeing to be his sub. And now he was asking her to trust him.

  She knew she shouldn't. She knew that she should have jumped off her chair and run out of the mansion as soon as he started talking about contracts. But she hadn't. Why? That stupid smile.

  Amy closed her eyes.

  As soon as she did, all the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Amy waited. Her ears strained to hear J's actions, but all she could make out were the sounds of his footsteps walking around her. What was he doing?

  Amy tapped her fingernails against the wood of the chair. She was restless. The sound of her own breath grew louder and louder in her ears.

  It was coming any moment. J was going to hit her with a whip, or slap her with one of his canes. He stepped closer and Amy flinched, preparing herself for a blow. But there was nothing.

  Her whole body felt live with electricity, tingling all the way to her toes. Amy gritted her teeth. A million different situations ran through her mind. He would tie her up, or maybe he would handcuff her. J would punish her again with the tawse. Maybe he even had someone else in the room, laughing at her situation.

  Of course. What would be a better way to get back at her? Maybe it was even her boss. Amy's stomach churned.

  So when J's hands touched Amy's shoulders, she jumped. She almost got up and ran, but the strong, sure feeling of J's hands kept her still. At first he didn't move them. They just rested there. Their warmth sunk through the fabric of Amy's top and heated her skin just enough for her to notice.

  And then they were gone.

  Instead of warmth, Amy felt cold. Even though it had only been a moment, Amy missed J's touch on her body. Sitting there with her eyes closed, she even wished for the feeling again.

  And it came. J's hands rested on Amy's shoulders again, but this time they didn't stay there. Slowly, they started to roam her body.

  Down her arms, touching each fingertip. Across her collarbone and up her neck. J's fingers drew lazily over Amy's jaw.

  There wasn't anything special to it. He was just touching her. That was all. But somehow, it felt like everywhere J's fingers went was hot with fire. Even between Amy's legs, where he hadn't touched, burned with warmth.

  J traced the shape of Amy's lips and she felt them drop open. Why? He hadn't told her to.

  Amy waited. Maybe J's lips would touch hers. Maybe he would pull her out of her chair, bend her over the desk and…

  J's touch left her again.

  Amy had just enough time to squirm before she felt him drag his fingers across her chest. Even under the fabric, her nipples were sensitive enough to feel J linger there as his fingers moved down her body. They hardened under his touch.

  Just as soon as Amy was enjoying the feeling, J's fingers were gone. They moved down her stomach, tickling it gently. Then J was on Amy's thighs. His hands kneaded the soft flesh there, squeezing and pulling at it.

  By the time he reached Amy's knees, she felt like she was about to explode. Although she had started out wanting to run away, all Amy wanted was for J to take her right there in her seat.

  When J pressed her knees open, Amy let out a sigh. Finally. It was coming.

  His fingers trailed up the inside of her thighs. He inched closer and closer to the warm spot between her legs until he was achingly close. A single finger pressed on the wetness of Amy's panties. She curled her toes, waiting.

  J circled the spot. He circled round and round, never giving Amy release. It wasn't until she let out a whimper that Amy knew just how badly she wanted his touch.

  That's when he gave it to her. J's finger hooked around Amy's panty and drew it aside. She felt the cool air blow against her skin. And then he touched her.

  J's finger plunged into Amy's wetness. He buried his finger up to the knuckle in her and she moaned. Finally. This was what she had been waiting for.

  But as soon as it had happened, it was over. J's finger was gone. Amy's panties were back in place. Her skirt was down. What?

  Amy couldn't take it anymore. She was about to open her eyes when she heard J's voice.

  "Open."

  Without even thinking, Amy's mouth dropped open. J put his finger inside, and Amy's lips closed around it. As the taste coated her tongue, she realized what she had done.

  Her mind raced. What was she doing? Did she really let him put that in her mouth?

  But even as the thought ran through her head, Amy's mouth still sucked hungrily at J's finger. Her body was still burning. Her heart was still thumping.

  J slowly pulled his finger out of Amy's mouth.

  "You can open your eyes now," he said.

  When Amy did, she saw him standing in front of her, just like before. Only now, his grin was even wider.

  "How was that?" he asked.

  Amy's cheeks filled with red. She refused to answer him, but she didn't have to. He knew. Instead of waiting for her to speak, J continued.

  "You could have stopped me," he said. "You could have opened your eyes or walked out. But you didn't."

  J paused and came close enough that his face was just in front of Amy's.

  "You did exactly what I told you to," he said. "And I didn't even have to use a single rope to get you to do it."

  J touched his finger to the tip of Amy's nose and dragged it down over her lips.

  "I just had to use the tiny tip of my finger," he said. "Who knew it was that powerful? Huh?"

  "Is that all?" Amy pulled herself away from J's touch.

  "For now," J said. "Consider that your first session."

  Amy stood up and started to walk out of the door.

  "Oh, and Ms. Cryan?"

  Amy stopped, turning to look back at him. "Yes?"

  "See you tomorrow."

  Chapter 10

  When she got home, Amy closed the door behind her. She looked at her place, and it seemed strange. Not that anything had changed. Everything was in its right place. Her computer on her desk, a towel strewn on the floor in front of her bed, a cold half finished cup of coffee on the table. Not a single thing had been moved.

  And that was exac
tly what was so strange. Amy wobbled over to the fridge. Her legs were unsteady. It felt like any moment, her knees would give out and she would fall to the floor. Water. She needed water.

  Amy grabbed a cup that looked clean and poured cold water into it. With a single motion, she gulped down the entire glass. Then she poured another.

  Her heart was still racing. The entire drive home, she tried not to think about it. What J had done.

  In the car, Amy had made up a grocery list. She sang along to the pop songs on the radio. She got more angry than she should have at the car that cut her off at her turn.

  But that was all just a distraction. They were things to keep her mind off the truth. The truth that from the moment she stood up and left J's office, her entire body had been on fire. They were things to stop her from admitting that with each step, all she wanted to do was grab J and force him to finish what he started.

  After her third glass of water, Amy stumbled over to her bed. She pulled her clothes off and dropped them on the floor before collapsing on top of her mattress. For a moment, she just lay there. Then Amy grabbed her pillow, buried her face in it, and screamed.

  How did that just happen? How did she just sit there and agree to everything that man said? The contract, that couldn't be real. But then Amy's mind flashed back to her own hand signing the paper in dark ink. She even had a copy sitting in her bag right now. No, that was definitely real.

  And what he had done to her? Was that real? Amy blushed at the thought. Her body remembered J's touch, how it moved over her body with such experience. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

  As she remembered J's touch, Amy felt her body growing hot again. She jumped up from the bed and shook her head until the feeling passed. Of course he was experienced. He'd probably done this to tons of girls. That didn't mean she was anything special.

  Amy took a deep breath. She had to remain rational. Reasonable. This was just an experiment. Nothing personal.

  That's right.

  Amy repeated it under her breath, clenching her fists at her sides. "Nothing personal."

  A tinkling noise came from Amy's purse. She bent over and picked it up from the floor, rifling through its disorganized contents until she found her phone.