by Amy Valenti
“Do I wear it all the time?”
He took the collar back. “You can. Or you can wear it during play sessions. At the club, it would tell everyone you’re mine, my submissive. Turn around.”
She shifted on the couch, lifting her hair. Wesley put the collar around her neck, and she heard the clink of the buckle. The collar was heavier than it looked, but it felt smooth against her skin. She let her hair fall down and turned around.
“How does it look?”
She met his eyes and his expression was tinged with apprehension. “It looks good. How does it feel?”
“Scary.” She smiled. “But it feels right.”
The smile he gave her lit up his face. “I’m glad. Really glad.” He leaned forward, lips brushing against hers. The kiss deepened and he pushed her back against the couch. After several minutes she broke away, looking up at Wesley.
“Am I under obedience now?”
His body pressed against hers, the weight of him, the hardness and warmth familiar but strangely new. “Let’s take this one day at a time. For now…we’re here, together. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Wesley rose, holding out his hand. “What I really want now is to make love to you, no ties, no bindings. Just you and me.”
She took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. “I like how you think.”
He took her to the bedroom, standing her by the side of the bed, undressing her slowly, until she was standing naked in the dim room. He pulled back the sheets and she climbed onto the bed. He shed his clothes, sliding beneath the sheets with her.
Wesley reached out, gently fingering the collar around her neck. “I like you like this, wearing just a collar.”
Scarlett wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved over her, settling himself between her legs.
“I could get used to this.” She smiled as he lowered his head, covering her mouth with his, tongue flicking against hers. She responded, heat and passion building inside.
They came together slowly, so very different than anything she’d experienced with Wesley. She was conscious of every movement he made, how gentle he was, attentive to every response she made.
When she came, it was slow and languorous and seemed to go on forever, building to a crescendo. As she came down from the high she felt Wesley shudder over her, crying out against her shoulder. He tensed, and the warmth of his climax filled her.
They lay quietly for a long time, arms and legs wrapped around each other. Finally she turned, curling against him, sleepy and satisfied.
“So this is it then. We’re starting new, together.”
“Together.” He said the word as if it was something from a foreign language. “Yeah, together. I like that.”
Scarlett nestled closer, letting sleep take her, his words the last thing she heard.
About The Author
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Hunter writes contemporary and paranormal romance stories that feature irresistibly powerful alpha heroes and beautifully curvy heroines.
Connect with Adriana on her website at http://www.AdrianaHunter.com and subscribe to her official newsletter at http://www.SpicyTales.com for details on upcoming books!
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Also By Adriana Hunter
ROMANCE NOVELS
Sweet Surrender
Rock Hard
Fight For You
ROMANCE NOVELLAS
Truth Or Dare
Something Borrowed
For Keeps
Made For The Billionaire
Learning Curve
PARANORMAL ROMANCE STORIES
All American Wolf
Taming The Alpha & Claiming The Alpha
Better Mate Than Never
ANTHOLOGIES
Curve Crazy
To Love An Alpha
Dangerous Desires
Calling All Hunters & Huntresses!
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Club Red
A BBW BDSM Erotic Romance
BBW BDSM #1
Sophie Sawyer
http://www.SophieSawyer.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sophie-Sawyer/394462470707051
This is a standalone book in the BBW BDSM series.
I was tired of being hurt. I was tired of being unappreciated. I was tired of being cheated on with some skinny bimbo in hot pants because she was so much thinner than me. I was tired of it all.
When I shared in confidence that I was done with relationships but desperately missed the touch of a man, my friend Erica talked me into coming with her to the hottest underground club in the city – Club Red. Where no fantasy is too taboo, and no strings are attached.
I had no idea what to expect as we entered the club that night.
In Gaius, the dark, mysterious man who captured me in every way a woman can be captured, I found my greatest challenge, and my deepest weakness. I found passion unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I’d found the key to my existence, and the undoing of everything I’d built inside of myself.
But one thing was for sure, when I walked out of Club Red, neither my life, nor I, would ever be the same.
© Copyright 2014, Sophie Sawyer, All Rights Reserved
CHAPTER ONE
I froze the moment we got out of the cab. Erica paid the cabbie and headed for the door, but I couldn’t move. It was as if every muscle in my body had simultaneously shut down, and even breathing had become nearly impossible.
“You coming?” Erica asked, pausing and staring at me over her shoulder.
I stared at the front door in wide-eyed amazement – more from my actually being there than from the fact that this club existed. Why had I even agreed to come? I turned to dive back into the taxi, but it had already pulled away from the curb and I stared after it, half tempted to chase it down and scream for the driver to return.
“Come on!” Erica growled at me, grabbing my hand and yanking me toward the door.
“They’re not even going to let me in, anyway,” I groaned. “This club is supposed to be super exclusive. They don’t let just anyone in.”
As if she read my mind, Erica rolled her eyes and said, “Tori, you’re gorgeous. Who cares if you’re a little plump? Some men like that.”
Some men like that. It was a phrase I’d heard a thousand times during my life, and it was almost as dreadful as the phrase: You have such a pretty face. It’s every chubby girl’s nightmare, and skinny girls always think they’re being helpful when they say it.
I watched as two stunning, leggy women were quickly ushered inside. The bouncer eyed their scantily clad bottoms as they sashayed through the door.
“Did you see that?” I asked Erica. “I have no hope.”
She tugged at my hand and I leaned backward, putting my weight into avoiding the certain mortification that would come when this bouncer took one look at me and sent me packing. But Erica was determined, and I had to take a step forward to avoid being toppled over backward. Reluctantly, I followed her. She shoved her I.D. at the bouncer and elbowed me until I did the same.
The bouncer eyed me up and down for an uncomfortably long time as if he were contemplating exactly how to tell me to get lost in the most insulting way possible. I was just about to walk away when he finally spoke.
“Alright, both of you are in.”
My heart shattered, and I started to turn to leave when Erica grabbed my arm in an iron grip and hissed into my ear, “Where are you going? We’re in!”
We’re in. Did she just say we’re in? My eyes bugged out as I stared at her dully, unable to fully grasp what she’d said. Never in my life had I been allowed entrance into one of these exclusive clubs! In fact, I’d gotten so tired
of rejection that I never even bothered trying to go anymore. It was only Erica’s constant prodding that had finally gotten me to tag along with her.
The bouncer stamped both of our hands and handed us back our I.D.s. I swallowed a lump the size of a grapefruit from my throat and followed Erica toward the doors, which were padded with quilted red vinyl.
The instant the doors opened, I was assaulted by a relentless, pounding beat that bored its way into my head and synchronized my heart with its own powerful rhythm. I licked my lips under the shocking red lights that illuminated the room and Erica pulled me through the undulating mass of people until we popped out the other side and slid onto bar stools.
“What’ll it be?” asked the bartender, a slim young guy with a tousle of blonde hair that was too perfectly disheveled to be accidental.
“Scotch rocks,” answered Erica.
“Um… I’ll have a margarita,” I answered.
I wasn’t normally a big drinker, but the way my nerves were agitated I needed a drink just to keep from yakking my guts onto the bar.
“Why did I let you talk me into this?” I asked Erica.
“Because you said it yourself, honey,” she answered. “You’re done with relationships, but you miss a man’s touch. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that here. This place is strictly no-strings-attached.”
I knew I shouldn’t have told her how I was feeling. It’s just that I needed to talk to someone, and Erica had been my closest friend and only real confidant since the second grade. Honestly, Erica was the last person I should have told, but when you’re tired of being hurt by men but still feeling lonely… well, what else can you do but turn to the only person you can really trust?
Erica was a true friend, and extremely loyal, but she had a way of messing up my life even with the best of intentions. She’d introduced me to all of the worst guys I’d dated. She was like a magnet for every type of scumbag available.
Erica was already on the prowl. She hiked her skirt higher and tugged her top lower, then slyly checked her lipstick in the mirror behind the bar. I glanced at my own reflection, but quickly looked away. I was suddenly regretting all those full fat lattes and upsized combo meals I’d been partaking in since my last relationship had gone sour almost six months earlier.
Some guy with slicked back jet-black hair and the most ridiculous zoot suit that looked like he’d stolen it right out of his father’s costume closet slid onto the stool beside Erica and leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She listened for a moment and then rolled her eyes and turned back toward me.
Mr. Zoot shrugged and hopped off his stool, approaching me. I quickly turned toward the bartender as he slid our drinks in front of us, and I guess he got the message because he kept walking right on by.
“Ugh,” Erica scoffed once he’d made his way out of earshot.
“What’d he say to you?” I asked out of morbid curiosity.
“Trust me, you really don’t want to know,” she groaned. Her face turned faintly green in disgust.
I took a swig of my margarita and winced slightly as the acidic liquid burned its way down my throat. Margaritas always gave me the worst heartburn, but they were one of the only alcoholic drinks I could actually stomach.
“Oh, my god!” Erica gasped, clutching my shoulder so fiercely I yelped. “That guy is staring right at you!”
I flicked my blonde curls over my shoulder and glanced around aimlessly, trying to avoid being discovered looking right in his direction. At the far end of the bar there was a nicely dressed guy in a suit that looked like he’d just been peeled out of the pages of GQ magazine.
His hair was a deep, chestnut brown and styled back in perfect waves. His suit hugged him far too perfectly to be off the rack and revealed just enough to let me know he definitely worked out. His hand was resting gingerly on the top of his glass, his finger absently rubbing the rim lightly.
Our eyes met for a brief moment. I knew it was brief, because I pulled my eyes away abruptly, but somehow it felt like far, far longer. In that moment, I felt as if every part of my life was compressed into one second, and this was the longest bit of all.
I quickly turned back to Erica and said, “He must be looking at you.”
“No, he’s definitely staring right at you,” Erica said. Then she hissed, “Oh, my god… here he comes!”
My heart thudded to an abrupt halt, and despite my own insecurities, I half hoped Erica was right and it had been me he was looking at rather than my obnoxiously beautiful friend.
“Excuse me,” I heard the smoothest voice I’d ever heard saying just behind me. “Is this seat taken?”
He had to be talking to me. The seat beside Erica had just been taken by one of the bombshells that had entered the club just before us. The one directly to the right of me was the only empty stool anywhere nearby.
I exhaled a small breath and turned to face him, and I was shocked to see that he was even more gorgeous up close than he had been from across the room. In a futile attempt at nonchalance, I shrugged and said, “Nope.” But I was certain the high-pitched squeak of my voice gave me away.
He took a sip of the amber liquid in his glass and set it down on the bar in front of him, then he turned his eyes, a subtle shade of honey-brown that bordered on golden, toward me, causing my breath to hitch.
“May I ask what brought you here?” he asked.
I didn’t even know exactly what brought me there, so how could I possibly explain it to a total stranger.
“My friend dragged me here,” I said, thinking quickly.
He nodded his understanding and said, “That’s how I got here my first time, too.”
His first time. I couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d been here… and how many different girls he’d approached this way.
“What keeps you coming back?” I asked him.
“You,” he said bluntly.
“Me?” I asked, confused.
“Night after night I come here,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you, and I didn’t even know it. But when I saw you, I said, Gaius, that’s the one.”
I snorted. Now I knew he was feeding me lines. He must have rehearsed these lines dozens of times. Hundreds, maybe.
“And how many other girls have you shoveled that load of manure to?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.
He lifted one eyebrow quizzically and took another sip of his drink. “Actually, you’re the first person I’ve spoken to here in weeks.”
I folded my arms in front of my chest, as much a protection mechanism as defiance, and asked, “Why me?”
“This may sound crazy, but I connected with you the moment our eyes met,” he said. “It’s like I could feel you all the way down to my soul.”
There was no way I was going to tell him what I’d experienced, though I was floored by his admission. Could it really be possible… was there really a way that this man had felt that same life-compressing jolt that I had?
All I could do was stare at him in a state of near panic, and he finally said, “You felt it, too.”
I swallowed hard and nodded almost imperceptibly. Erica tapped on my shoulder and whispered into my ear, “I’ll be right back.”
I shrugged and she brushed past me, throwing a wink and a grin over her shoulder after she’d passed by my mystery man. She sauntered off toward the restrooms, leaving me speechless with Mr. Mystery.
“Tell me you didn’t feel it,” he said.
“It’s just physical attraction,” I said.
The music was so loud that he leaned forward as if he hadn’t heard what I said. I repeated myself, and he shook his head. He leaned even closer, his breath hot against my ear.
“Physical attraction is something you feel in your loins,” he said softly. “We felt this here.”
He took my hand and laid it on his chest, and through my fingers I could feel the rhythmic thump-thump of his heart. My own heart was beating with his in perfect synchronicity, and I could alm
ost feel an electric hum resonating between us.
“Will you come to my room so we can talk privately?” he asked me boldly.
I had no idea what he had in mind. I really didn’t even know exactly what happened here at Club Red. Erica had only told me that it was a place people met for illicit encounters with no strings attached, which had sounded perfect to someone who’d had her heart broken more times than she cared to count. But I was inexplicably drawn to this man, and to whatever he had in store for me.
“Yes,” I nodded emphatically. “Yes, I’ll go with you.”
He quickly downed the last of the liquid in his glass, and I gulped down as much of my margarita, A.K.A. liquid courage, as I could manage quickly. He threw a twenty-dollar bill onto the table and motioned to the bartender that he was covering both our drinks. After the bartender nodded his understanding, Mr. Mystery took my hand and led me toward whatever fate had in store for me.
CHAPTER TWO
As we headed down the hallway, any anxiety I should have felt heading into uncertainty with a total stranger was masked entirely by the excited thrum of my heart. The electric excitement that surged from his hand to mine aroused me to a height from which I felt I might never come down.
Erica was just coming out of the restroom when we passed by, and she grinned knowingly. Our eyes locked as I passed by, and her smile let me know she thought I was making the right decision and that she’d be waiting for me whenever I was done.
The music began to fade away as we went farther down the corridor. My head craned to stare at Erica for several long moments, half hoping she would rescue me before I made a disastrous mistake. All she did was continue to smile and wave me off, so I turned back toward Mr. Mystery and followed him as we turned right and headed down a tertiary hall.