Club Alpha: BDSM Romance Boxed Set

by Amy Valenti

  “So there’s a story?” She perched on the edge of the bed, trying to look composed, hoping he couldn’t see the pounding of her heart against her shirt.

  He glanced up at her, his look remote, closed. He really had gotten control of himself. Or, more likely, he’d shut himself down completely.

  “There’s always a story, Scarlett. I have one. You have one. They bleed through our lives, color our days. Yours sent you to a club, and you ended up tied to my bed.” He glanced past her at the headboard. The red silk ties were put away, but Scarlett saw a brief flash of heat in his eyes and she knew he was remembering, like she was.

  “And your story? How does it affect you?”

  Wesley shrugged. That shrug told Scarlett everything she needed about how Wesley was feeling. It carried more pain than any simple gesture should.

  “I made a bad choice, early on. Got mixed up with the wrong people. Or the wrong person. You know how it is.” He looked up at her, didn’t wait for an answer, and went on.

  “She wanted a sub. I wanted a dom. It seemed a match made in heaven. Turned out to be a match made in hell.”

  Scarlett watched Wesley’s face darken, his brows draw down over lowered eyes. She wanted to do something, hug him, sit at his feet, touch him. But she knew he needed to do this alone, without her comfort. And that broke her heart.

  “I met her at the club, where I took you. We didn’t hit it off right away. Should have paid attention to chemistry, but I was too taken with the whole lifestyle…” He glanced up at Scarlett. “Bullshit, as you’d say. I was in love with her. And that’s the worst thing a sub came do, is fall love with their Dom. At least, it was the worst thing I could do.”

  Scarlett drew a breath, words poised, but Wesley held up his hand. “I know you saw Chase and Brooke at the club. And even though they’re a couple, and I suppose in love, they’re far from perfect. But they make it work, somehow. I have no idea how, but they do.”

  Wesley slumped in his chair, staring down at the carpet. “I loved her and she used that love against me. I was vulnerable, I guess, or stupid. She didn’t treat me as a sub; she treated me like a doormat, manipulated me. By the time I finally figured out the game, she’d gotten tired of it all, of me, and she left.”

  He looked up, pain and hurt mixed with the angry defiance she’d seen before. “So, yeah, I’ve got a story. And it makes me act the way I do. You think I have commitment issues, or that I’m just looking for meaningless, anonymous sex.”

  “That’s not what I think at all, Wesley. It’s like you’re looking for a way to even the score maybe…”

  When he stood, it was so suddenly his chair toppled over. Scarlett’s words died in her throat and she flinched, one hand raised, not sure what was happening. He crossed the space between them, kneeling on the floor at her feet. His hands caught her around the waist, pulling her forward until he was between her legs, his face upturned to hers.

  “I’m not looking to recreate what she did to me with random girls, to use them like she used me. I’m not out for revenge, Scarlett. I’m looking to make things right, to make it right for someone else. But I never get the chance…”

  Scarlett looked down at Wesley. His eyes weren’t hidden beneath half-lowered lids. He was looking her square in the face and she saw he was seeking for something from her, acceptance, or approval. Or maybe just understanding.

  She reached out and touched his cheek. “The chance? The chance to have a relationship? How could you? You’re looking for a relationship with girls who want fantasy. How can you expect them to want any kind of relationship? They’re looking for something dangerous without the danger. They don’t care who gives them that experience.”

  “You’re here. Why is that? What are you looking for?” His voice had dropped, just above a whisper. It tugged at her heart.

  “I am here. But I wasn’t looking for fantasy. Maybe I really wasn’t looking for anything.” She sighed. “I think I get what you’re saying. But can you fix you by making it right for some other girl, someone not even interested having you know her name?”

  A frown passed over Wesley’s face. “It’s all I know how to do, Scarlett.”

  “But is this working for you? Are you happy like this?”

  He held her gaze a moment longer and then stood up. She looked up at him, saw the look in his eyes. And it made her heart hurt. The pain was gone, replaced with something like disappointment.

  “I should take you home.” He reached past her to the nightstand, grabbing the tube of aloe.

  “Here. You can take this with you.”

  “Wesley. Wait.” She stood up, aching to find the right words, to do or say something that would erase the look in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t lie to you. I can’t tell you something just because you think you want to hear it. I just…I want…”

  He turned back, his eyes hard, lips compressed in a thin line. “What do you want, Scarlett? I’m not going to be your bad boy, your walk on the wild side. Or whatever else you think I am. You had your fling. Now it’s time to give up on the damaged goods and head back to your regular, safe guys.” He turned toward the door but she grabbed his arm, pulling him back toward her.

  “That’s not fair. You have no right to say that.” Anger, sudden and hot, boiled up. “That’s not why I’m here and you know it. I had no idea what was going to happen at Diablo, that I’d end up here. I’m not like all those other girls.”

  Wesley looked down at her hand, still holding his arm. For a moment she thought he would shake her off. But he didn’t.

  “Scarlett, I don’t know…”

  “But once I realized what was going on, I wanted to stay. Not just because it was a chance to do something wild or dangerous. Yeah, I’ll admit it’s exciting, erotic. It’s sure as hell not something I’ve ever done before. But I like it. I like it a lot. And I want it to keep happening. With you.”

  She took a step closer. “I like that it’s all happening with you. You make me feel safe, even when you’ve got me tied blindfolded to a cross, whipping me with a riding crop.”

  His expression had relaxed, his eyes softening. “We make a really great pair, don’t we?”

  “I think we’d make a great pair, if you’d let me in.” She shook her head, breathing out a laugh. “It’s really ironic that you’ve tied me up, twice, done things to me no one else has, but you’re basically a stranger.”

  He returned her smile. “Yeah, it’s not your usual start to a relationship.”

  “You said relationship.” She grinned. “Freudian slip?”

  “Not sure.” He pulled her into a sudden hug. She heard his sigh, felt his breath ruffle the hair above her ear.

  “All I know is this is maybe the best I’ve felt in a long time. Despite being really mad at you.”

  “I’m sorry for what I said.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s probably the first time in a long time anyone’s told me the truth.”

  He stepped back, fingers sliding up to cradle her face. “I can’t make any promises, Scarlett. All I can do is try. I can try to give us a chance. Make some changes.”

  “Give up the club? The fantasy stuff at Diablo?”

  There was a hesitation, a brief flash of something like loss or regret in his eyes. “I can try, yeah. For you…for us. I can try.”

  She nodded and even though he was smiling at her, even with the dimples, she thought he looked sad. Before she could put her finger on the vague question in her mind, he spoke again.

  “I should take you home. You need to get some rest. I’ve got things I need to do today.”

  Even though what he said made sense, she had the vague, and probably irrational, thought that he wanted to get rid of her. Then she mentally kicked herself. She was being overly sensitive, paranoid if she really wanted to pin it down. They’d just had their first argument and they were both a little tender. And he was right, she was exhausted.

  “Okay. I’ll call you later.”r />
  “Deal. I’ll be around tonight.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Get your stuff and I’ll drop you off.”

  * * *

  The ringing of the phone woke Scarlett. She squinted at the clock. It was mid-afternoon; she’d only been asleep for maybe an hour. Fumbling the phone one-handed, she flipped it open.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, I’ve been waiting for you to call. How did it go?”

  “Oh, hi, Gina.” Scarlett sat up, running one hand through her tangled hair. “It went…good, I guess. Listen, you woke me up and I’m not really awake enough to give you the details.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll stop off at Julian’s Café and grab a couple lattes and muffins, and swing by. You’ll be awake by then.”

  Before Scarlett could stammer a reply, the phone went silent. Gina was a force of nature and when she had it in her head she wanted something, there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop her.

  Scarlett climbed out of bed, pulling on her robe. She’d managed a shower after Wesley dropped her off, then tumbled into bed and fallen instantly asleep.

  Yawning, she went to the kitchen, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, drinking straight from the carton. The cold acidic liquid cut through the fog in her head. She drained the carton, then tossed it in the trash.

  “I’m going to hell for this.” Her mother certainly would have given her hell for not using a glass, but Scarlett didn’t have the energy to care at the moment.

  Knocking interrupted her thoughts. Scarlett glanced at the clock. It had been all of fifteen minutes since Gina called. Sighing, she opened the door to a smiling Gina.

  “Were you camped at Julian’s when you called?”

  “Actually, I was already paying when I called. Got lucky I guess.” Gina breezed past Scarlett, heading for the living room couch. She deposited the lattes and muffins on the coffee table before turning to look at Scarlett.

  “You look like you were ridden hard and put away wet, Scarlett.” The smile on Gina’s face faded, replaced by a look of concern. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Why do you think I’d be anything but fine?” She sounded snappish and irritable, even to herself, and she didn’t miss the hurt look in Gina’s eyes.

  Scarlett dropped down onto the couch, picking up one of the lattes. “I’m sorry. I’m fine, really. I’m just tired. Really tired. And you woke me up.” She took a sip of the latte. It was creamy and smooth, and smelled like vanilla.

  “Yeah, you never did wake up in a good mood. Sorry about that.” Gina took a bite of a muffin, talking around falling crumbs. “You want to tell me what happened?”

  “I don’t think I have a choice. You’d never leave if I didn’t.” Scarlett smiled over the rim of the coffee cup.

  “You know me well. Now give with the details. How was the club? Did you have raging sex while tied up? What did he do to you?”

  Scarlett set down the coffee, trying to decide just how much of last night she was ready to tell Gina. It all still seemed new, almost raw, and she was still trying to make sense of it herself.

  “It wasn’t quite what I thought. He did tie me up, on this really big X-shaped cross. A St. Andrew’s cross, I think it’s called.”

  Gina’s muffin stopped halfway to her mouth. “Really? In public?”

  Scarlett shook her head. “No. We had a private session. But it was weird. I knew there were other people in other rooms, doing things to each other. I could hear them. There’s only a curtain over the doorway to the hall. It’s private, but not as private as I thought.”

  Gina leaned forward, an atavistic gleam in her eyes. “So you were basically having sex in public?”

  “No…well, not there, at least. Later.” She felt herself blushing furiously. “I mean, we didn’t have sex in the club, exactly. It…things didn’t go the way I thought they would.”

  “Then where the hell did you have sex?”

  “In the alley next to the club.” Scarlett closed her eyes, partly in embarrassment, but mostly because of the sudden image that rose up, of Wesley, his eyes locked with hers as he took her there, against the rough bricks.

  “Jeez, Scarlett.”

  Scarlett opened her eyes. Gina was staring at her, the half-eaten muffin forgotten. “Are you sure this is a good thing for you? You’re doing things even I wouldn’t do. And that’s saying a lot.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Gina. I’m not turning tricks in an alley with strangers.” As soon as she heard the words, and saw the look on Gina’s face, she knew there’d be no stopping Gina’s tirade. She held up her hand even before Gina drew a breath to start in on her.

  “I know exactly what you’re going to say, so you don’t have to bother. Yeah, I’ve only known Wesley since Friday. Yeah, he’s practically a stranger. But he’s not. He’s…there’s something…we’re a…” She couldn’t quite get the word couple out of her mouth.

  “We have a relationship.”

  “Yeah, and I have a relationship with the counterman at Julian’s. You’re having a weekend fling. Come Monday reality returns and you’ll never hear from him again.”

  “It’s not like that. Wesley’s not like that.”

  “Okay. What’s Wesley’s last name?”

  Scarlett stared at Gina, words stalling on her tongue. “I…it’s not like that.”

  “What’s his cell phone number?”

  “I have that.” She thought she did. Wesley had taken her phone, punched his number into her contacts. “I think I have that.”

  “Scarlett, come on. You don’t know the guy’s last name and you think you have his cell phone number. How the hell are you ever going to find him again, if he never calls? Are you going to chase him down at Diablo, or that other place?”

  “I might. But I have his number.” She clung to the stubborn hope he’d actually given her his number and not some bogus one.

  “Why are you doing this to me, Gina? For the first time I’m having fun, living a little. Are you jealous? Is that why you want to tear this down?”

  Gina set the mangled muffin on the coffee table. “Kid, I’m not jealous of something that doesn’t exist.” She stood and crossed to the couch, sitting beside Scarlett. “I want you to see what this really is, before you get hurt. It’s a fling with a guy who manipulates women. And not just into buying him dinner or a movie, or putting gas into his car.”

  Scarlett frowned, opening her mouth to speak, but Gina went on. “Don’t bother defending him, or this relationship thing you think you have. You’re in over your head, and you know it.”

  Gina went on, her voice taking on that I-know-better tone that grated on Scarlett’s nerves. “For all you know, he could be some kind of thief. He could have gone through your purse while you were drugged, gotten your credit card numbers, all that stuff. Ever think of that? You could be in way more trouble than just having your heart broken.”

  “He’s not like that. He’s not like that at all. You don’t understand, and you’re not trying to, either. You’re being mean because you’re jealous, and you can’t be happy when I am. You want me unhappy so you can play the best friend and make your own life seem better by comparison.” Tears pricked against her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

  “Stop pouting, Scarlett. It didn’t work when we were kids and it won’t work now.” Gina stood, looking down at her, but Scarlett refused to meet her friend’s eyes.

  “If you’re not going to be happy for me, or with me, or whatever, then you can go.” Scarlett folded her arms across her chest, glaring down at the muffins on the table.

  “There’s no talking to you once you’re like this, Scarlett. I’m gonna go home now. Finish the muffins and enjoy the latte. Call me when you get your head on straight.”

  Scarlett jumped as Gina slammed the door. The apartment was suddenly quiet and all the anger that Scarlett had leaked out, leaving her empty and sad. Gina was only looking out for her, trying to protect her. It’s what friends did. It’s what
Gina always did.

  “But I don’t need protecting this time.” Her voice echoed back in the quiet apartment.

  Scarlett took one last look at the muffins and pushed herself up from the couch. She was too keyed up to go back to sleep. The sun had started to set and she glanced at the clock above the stove.

  It was after six. That qualified as later. Her purse was on the floor, among the rubble of her clothing. She found her cell phone, resisting the urge to check her wallet for cash and credit cards. Gina was being stupid. Wesley hadn’t ripped her off, wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t. She trusted him.

  “See. There it is.” Wesley’s cell number was in her contacts. Relief washed through her and she felt a twinge of guilt. Gina’s words had made her paranoid. Nothing was wrong, except Gina.

  Scarlett hit dial and the call went through. It rang and then clicked over to voicemail. Wesley’s voice announced he was unable to answer, please leave a message.

  “Hi, it’s me. Scarlett. Just checking in. Give me a call back. Talk to you soon.” She rattled off her number and flipped the phone shut. She held on to it, looking down at it in her hand, willing it to ring. After a few minutes she tossed the phone on the bed and got up. Staring at a phone never made it ring. Ignoring them worked though.

  She went back to the living room, picking through the muffins until she found a chocolate one. The latte was cold but she drank it anyway, wanting the caffeine buzz. Her head was a mess, the argument with Wesley mixing with Gina’s words, leaving behind a jumble of emotions. She didn’t know anymore how she felt, other than confused.

  It was after eight when she decided she’d go look for Wesley. She’d called and left one more message. The phone had gone straight to voicemail and she frowned at the phone. Was he screening calls? Taking a call?

  “You’re losing it, Scarlett. Seriously.”

  She grabbed the first pair of clean jeans from her closet and pulled on a t-shirt and hoodie, and her boots. Her car keys were still in her purse and she fished them out.

  The drive to Diablo seemed longer now that she was in her own car, and not in a taxi. The excitement she’d felt on Friday was replaced now with anxiety. Was it only Friday that she’d met Wesley? It seemed like an eternity and a heartbeat combined.