Club Alpha: BDSM Romance Boxed Set

by Amy Valenti

  Wesley gave a gentle laugh. “You’ve been through a lot in the past couple days, physically, and emotionally. It takes its toll on the body, especially if you’re not used to it. After your shower, I’ll rub some aloe on your sensitive parts.”

  She laughed. “I’d like that.”

  “You can talk about what happened, too. You know, the emotional aspect. Not everyone handles being restrained the same. Sometimes there’s emotional stuff that comes up later.”

  Scarlett frowned. “You mean how I felt about last night? That I didn’t understand what you wanted?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. I mean, we can talk about that, later. But after a really intense session, someone might cry, or want to be held, or they feel scared. The session might trigger a memory. Hard to know. Everyone’s different.”

  She thought about it for a minute. “I guess I’d say I’m disappointed with myself, but you know that. Otherwise…”

  The words she wanted to say were that she was fine, that she was happy. Because she was. But the words stuck in her throat. Somehow being happy felt wrong. Unexpected tears welled in her eyes and she tried unsuccessfully to blink them away. One slipped down her cheek.

  “You’re not okay.” He leaned toward her, wiping away the errant tear. “Whatever it is, you can try to tell me.” The way he looked at her, the concern she saw in his eyes, made her heart clench.

  “It’s just…” She sniffled. “I feel like how I feel is wrong. I shouldn’t feel this happy.”

  “Euphoric? Like you’re on a high?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not like the first night here, when I was…when you drugged me.” She didn’t miss the sudden flash of pain that crossed Wesley’s face. “I’m happy. Just…happy.”

  Wesley held her gaze for a moment and she thought he was trying hard not to laugh. “So you’re happy? Not sad, or conflicted, or working through some deep emotional trauma?” His façade was slipping, the dimples threatening to make an appearance.

  “Yeah, I guess. I’m not upset by this at all.”

  “No shame for enjoying being tied up?” Wesley was smiling now, simples on full display.

  His question took her off guard. “Shame? No, not at all.” Shame was the last thing she felt.

  “So you’d be okay with telling your best friend about all this? About what happened?”

  She shifted uneasily. Maybe he wasn’t comfortable with having this talked about. But it was too late now. She’d already told Gina all the gory details. “I already did. I mean, I told my friend about the first night. And where we were going last night.”

  Wesley’s brows quirked down briefly. “And what did she think?”

  “She was worried for me, maybe not so much about going to the club, but that I was going with someone I didn’t know, maybe couldn’t trust. She thinks I’m not very savvy when it comes to men.” Scarlett rolled her eyes, the same gesture Gina would have used telling Scarlett the same thing. “She’s probably right. I’ve had some bad luck in the past. She thought I’m getting in over my head.”

  “Do you think you’re in over your head?” She dropped her eyes for a moment, then looked up at Wesley, taking a deep breath.

  “Truth?” She held his gaze, feigning confidence she wasn’t sure she had.

  Wesley nodded. He was still sitting at the edge of the bed and a not-so-subtle electricity filled the space between them. He wasn’t even touching her, but her body flushed with heat, remembering how his body felt against hers. She knew her cheeks were turning pink, as if could read her mind.

  “If I am, I don’t care.”

  His smile shifted, going a bit lopsided, lips quirked up at one corner. Scarlett wanted nothing more than to kiss that spot, right then and there. She leaned forward expectantly as his eyes moved over her face, gaze lingering over her mouth. Wesley leaned toward her and his towel gaped open. Wesley did nothing to cover himself, and Scarlett glanced down, her heart skipping a beat at the glimpse of his erection.

  The little bubble of happiness she’d woken up with expanded. It hadn’t occurred to her held feel the same, that what they had together could be something more than just her wanting to experiment and Wesley humoring her.

  “I told you before, you’re not like other girls. And I mean it. I’ve had girls leave here in tears, ashamed that they wanted what happened, maybe even that they liked it. But still ashamed about what happened.”

  He was so close she could feel the heat from his body. A welcome thud of arousal echoed through her and she barely resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

  “Is being different a good thing?” Mentally she cringed at her blatant attempt at acceptance.

  “It’s very good, Scarlett. Very good.”

  He reached out, his hand on her cheek, stroking her skin. She leaned against his hand, closing her eyes at his touch, even as his fingers moved to the back of her head, winding through her hair, holding the nape of her neck. Her eyes blinked open.

  “You liked being tied up. You said you liked the idea of being a submissive.”

  She nodded, his words sending a thrill through her more potent than any touch could generate.

  “Do you want to play, Scarlett? Will you be my submissive, here and now?”

  She nodded again, eyes locked with dark eyes. His fingers tightened on the back of her neck. Slowly he pulled her toward him and she eagerly anticipated his kiss.

  But his other hand was moving and she glanced down, watching with wide eyes as he pulled the towel away from himself.

  “I want you to do what I say, Scarlett. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  His grip tightened even more, his hand pushing her head down toward his lap. She glanced down at him, at his cock rising up from the thatch of dark hair at the apex of his thighs.

  Blow jobs weren’t at the top of the list of things Scarlett enjoyed performing. But now, with Wesley, in the role of submissive, she wanted him, wanted to taste him, take him into her mouth and suck him until he was completely under her control.

  She dropped her head as he lay back, his fingers still twined in her hair, but his grip loosening. She took him in one hand, stroking him slowly. He was hot and smooth, and very hard.

  “That’s not what I want, Scarlett. I want to be in your mouth, Scarlett.”

  He was watching her, eyes dark, mesmerizing. She lowered her head further, eyes never leaving his, and took him slowly into her mouth.

  His hips rose as he tipped his head back, eyes closing briefly, a moan coming from somewhere deep inside. He looked back down at her, his legs moving apart as his hips rolled back down against the bed.

  She never looked away from him as she pulled him deeply into her mouth, then drawing him slowly out, licking and nibbling at him, swirling her tongue over the head of his cock.

  His fingers played in her hair, his hand at the back of her head. Gradually she was aware of his palm holding her down, keeping her from pulling away from him. The thrust of his hips grew more forceful, the hand on her head more insistent, his sounds deeper, louder.

  There was a moment of panic, when she thought she’d choke, but her desire to please him, to give him what he wanted took over and she relaxed, letting him pushing into her mouth, over and over, both hands now wound in her hair. She closed her eyes, letting him set the pace, moving her head in time, the two of them locked in a primal dance.

  She tasted him before he came, the hot saltiness mixing in her mouth. It was intoxicating and she sucked harder, driving him toward the edge. Beneath her his hips flexed upward hard and he was there, filling her with his come, grunting with each thrust. She swallowed greedily, taking in as much as she could, the rest running back over his thick shaft.

  Finally he let go of her, his arms falling to the bed. She held him a moment longer, slowly, gently licking him until he tugged at her arm. She pulled away from him, licking her lips.

  She sat back, still kneeling between his legs, looking down at his f
ace. His lips were parted, chest rising and falling more slowly now. His eyes were still closed and she glanced away from his face, taking in the smooth chest, the flat stomach. Her eyes drifted lower, looking at his cock lying on his stomach, slick with her spit, as it slowly softened.

  A strange sense of power welled up inside her, competing with the fire inside her. She’d let him take control, direct her, dominate her, all for his pleasure. It should have pissed her off, to be told the how and when she was going to have to give a guy head.

  But it wasn’t like that. She’d wanted to do this for him, to do whatever she could to give him pleasure. She wanted to submit.

  “So, how was that?”

  She looked up at Wesley, smiling. “I should be asking you that.”

  He folded his arms behind his head. “And I’d tell you it was amazing. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Come here.” He held out one arm and she climbed over his leg and lay down beside him.

  “I wanted to know how that was for you, as a sub.” His voice was drowsy and she glanced over at his face. His mouth was relaxed, his eyes closed. “You did very well, by the way.”

  She was almost glad his eyes were closed so that he didn’t see the smile on her face. “It was different, at first. I wanted to fight you a little, I think, not just do what you said. But then…I don’t know how to explain it other than something changed. It wasn’t you being mean, telling me what to do. Or forcing me. I had the choice to do what you asked, or not.”

  “And you made your own choice?”

  “I did.”

  His arm tightened around her. “Well, from my point of view, it was a good choice.”

  “Was that aftercare? Talking like that?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I just like to make sure you’re okay. This is all new for you. I don’t want to push you.”

  “It’s odd to have a guy want to take care of me after sex…after this.” She waved her hand in the vague direction of Wesley, not sure how to accurately describe what had had just happened.

  Truthfully, it was very odd. She’d never been with any guy who did much more than roll over after sex and fall asleep. Or, in Tyler’s case, not have sex at all.

  Wesley’s shoulder moved and she assumed it was one of his trademark shrugs. “I don’t get to offer it very much, at least not here. And I never just talk with any of them. The girls at the club…” Another movement beneath her, another shrug. “Sometimes they’re more interested in the next scene, or meeting up with friends. It’s kind of a pleasure to be able to take care of someone. After, I mean.”

  “It’s nice. I could get used to this, having you take care of me, being your sub.” And she thought she really could, especially with Wesley. Even learn to be his submissive.

  But there was no shrug this time. Instead Wesley stiffened against her, then pulled his arm from around her and sat up abruptly. “Um, yeah. Okay. It’s getting late. You can find some clean towels on the back of the door.” He stood abruptly, not meeting her eyes. “I’ll get dressed, give you a ride home when you’re done.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She sat up, mind spinning as Wesley turned away. She caught a hint of a scowl on his face as he bent down, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his hips. She’d said something, crossed that line again.

  But this time she wasn’t going to let him walk away from whatever this thing was that kept coming up between them.

  “Wait. What is it, Wesley? What did I say?”

  He stopped, turned away from her. The tension in his body was unmistakable, from the way he held his shoulders to the clenched hands. Scarlett held her breath as the moment spun on. Either he’d refuse to answer or he’d be angry.

  “I’m asking for the truth, Wesley.”

  “I’ve given you the truth, all along. I haven’t held anything back.”

  She sat up, kneeling on the bed. “Look at me.”

  He slowly turned around to face her. In his eyes she saw such a conflicting mix of emotions that for a moment she was momentarily speechless. The hurt and pain she saw tugged at her heart, but the angry defiance made her swallow uneasily. She really had pushed his buttons this time, inadvertently, and maybe now she was going too far. But she had to find out what it was that set him off, or sent him away.

  “You’ve told me the truth, but you don’t tell me how you feel about that truth. When you get close, then you shut down, shut me out.”

  Wesley blinked and in that instant the hurt disappeared as if by magic. But the defiance remained.

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Scarlett.”

  “I want us to talk.”

  “We were talking, just a few minutes ago.”

  “Not like that. Not like aftercare talk.”

  “Like we’re a couple? You want us to sit down and have a heart-to-heart about me, or my past, or whatever you think we need to talk about.”

  Wesley’s voice had gone low, carrying that steel-edge that had sent shivers down her spine earlier. But now it gave her a different shiver, made her think he was going to throw her out of the apartment and make her find her own way home.

  “Listen.” Wesley crossed the short distance between them and stood, hands on hips, staring down at Scarlett. She resisted the urge to slide across the bed, to put some distance between them.

  “We don’t have any relationship here, despite everything that’s happened this weekend.” He waved a hand in the space between them. The towel slipped and he grabbed for it. “We’re together because of a fluke, an accident, a misunderstanding.”

  His words were a surprise, and they stung. Scarlett’s heart was in her throat, but she forced herself to speak.

  “You’re living in a little fantasy world, Scarlett.”

  Tears welled up again, but she refused to let them fall. “So there’s nothing between us, other than role-playing and aftercare? None of what happened has changed you, affected you in any way?”

  He pulled back as if she’d slapped him. “I’m not looking to change. I’m happy the way I am, with the way my life is.”

  “So a different girl from Diablo every night, and a different girl at the club works for you? Random, anonymous sex? That’s how you want to live your life?”

  She rose up on her knees, hands on her hips. “I call bullshit. I think you’re looking for something, someone. And I think you’re running scared that you might have found her. I may be bad at men, but I can read you like a book, Wesley. You’re not the cavalier guy you think you are, living this mysterious erotic life. You’re like a stray cat looking for someone to take you in, give you whatever it is you don’t have.”

  “You’re pushing it here, Scarlett. Really, you need to back off.” He turned away again, taking a few strides across the room. “This isn’t just random, anonymous sex. It’s a lifestyle.”

  “Bullshit again. You’re using all this bondage lifestyle and fantasy sex stuff as a nice, neat little cover for what your life is really like. That you’re alone and you don’t like it.”

  She stopped, hearing the tone of her voice, the last words she said hanging in the air. Wesley stared at her from across the room and she half expected him to grab her clothes, and her, and toss her out of the apartment.

  But he didn’t. He let out a long breath, running one hand through his hair. Then he shook his head, a hint of a smile crossing his face.

  “Like I said, Scarlett. You’re one of a kind. I think that little rant just qualified as the first time someone’s offered me aftercare.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “You’re not mad? I pretty much just cut your life to ribbons.”

  He looked at her levelly for a moment. “I’m angry. You really had no right to say what you did.” He took a step toward her, hesitated, then took another. A flicker of confusion crossed his face.

  “Maybe it’s time I come clean with you.”

  “You haven’t been up till now?” Something in the tone of his voice made her cold al
l over, very cold. “You’ve lied to me?” All kinds of horrible images rose up in her mind. She closed her eyes, wishing she could rewind the last fifteen minutes of her life. There was no way this was going to turn out anything but bad.

  “I haven’t lied, Scarlett. I just haven’t told you the whole story.”

  Chapter Ten

  Scarlett leaned against the door of her apartment. She could hear the sound of Wesley’s receding steps down the hall, then the soft thud of the outer door.

  She stood for a moment, eyes closed, trying to deal with the welter of emotions roiling inside her. Even in the midst of their discussion…argument…whatever it had been, she’d at least had Wesley to focus on. Somehow, even as he told her his story, and they’d talked, she felt grounded. Now, alone in her own apartment, she felt as if she were going to fly off the face of the earth.

  “Get a grip, girl.” Her voice sounded shaky and her words did little to calm her down. Blowing out a breath, she headed to her bedroom. Her body still ached, and now she had the added pain of her confrontation with Wesley. It played over in her head like a bad movie.

  “I haven’t lied, Scarlett. I just haven’t told you the whole story.”

  He’d stood in his bedroom for long a moment, clutching the towel around his waist, his words lingering in the air. Then he’d excused himself, grabbed a pair of sweats and disappeared into the bathroom. She took the opportunity to pull on her skirt and tank, wishing she had had the foresight to bring something else to wear. But she was damned sure she wasn’t going to sit naked while Wesley told her whatever it was he was going to say. Being undressed or wrapped in a sheet made her feel far too vulnerable.

  He came out a minute later, dressed, apparently a little more in control. At least his expression was back to his normal confident look. What was going on inside that head though, Scarlett had no clue.

  She watched him cross the room. For a moment he eyed the bed where she sat, then veered away, pulling out the desk chair and sitting down. The distance between them seemed vast, far more than the few feet of carpet that separated them.