Taming the Brat (Forbidden Secrets)

by Diana Rose Wilson

  Screw those snobby, rich bitches. She made sure to show off her shoes to them as she glided out and tossed a cocky look back over her shoulder as she adjusted her mask. Turning, she sashayed through the press of people toward the house.

  Limos parked in the driveway, letting out the press of guests. She assumed they were guests, because she didn’t see a single person wearing the key indicating they were patrons. Or so the rules said.

  The rules.

  The way the women laughed with derision meant they must be more of a loose guideline than strict rules. So, she could bend a few. It could be fun. Relaxing, she looked around at the other guests in their colorful outfits and walked up the stone cobbles to the front doors of the house. She moved to the side and scanned the crowd, trying to find Ursa in the press of people.

  She couldn’t even imagine what the little fatty would be wearing to an event like this. She would look like a stuffed sausage in a corset. It would be worth a laugh to see her. Maybe she could do something to spoil her weekend.

  The green-eyed monster coiled around her spine and belly, whispering ideas of wreckage and ruin for her rival’s weekend. And as she plotted ways she could get her hooks into Leo, she saw him. At least, she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was that massive, tall and black also attending this party. He wasn’t wearing a key though. He wasn’t wearing much of anything except a leather strap from a quiver over his chest and a matching armored skirt and carried a ridiculous pink bow.

  Ursa wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Maybe he kept this little secret from the woman. Even better! Here was her chance!

  A heated little hiccup clenched her stomach as she moved through the crowd. He strode ahead of her, having an easier time getting through the crush with his powerful legs. Then she saw his back and she felt the warmth leach from her. His shoulders and down his spine to his lower back were covered in black scars. Ugly, angry welts made a triangle from his shoulder blades down to a point on his spine. The quiver full of ridiculous pink arrows hid them slightly but they were ghastly.

  Throat tight and eyes burning, she jerked her face away in shock.

  “Fuck.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to even look at him again. The green-eyed monster cowered in its cage, crumbling to little pieces in the empty pit of her stomach.

  By the time she shook herself from her reaction, the crowd around her had thinned. She continued up the stairs, unable to put her finger on what upset her. Worse, why had she been so angry with Leo? Had she wanted to press her considerable skill and talent into ruining him and Ursa in one big kaboom? She could out him in front of all these people. She could screw him behind the mask and ruin him with Ursa.

  But…why?

  A cold emptiness spread over her, clawing at her heart as she thought about doing any of those things.

  The doorman watched her expectantly. “Ma’am?” He said it as if it wasn’t his first attempt to get her attention, and she forced herself to focus on the man in his tux and black domino mask. “Your invitation if you please.” He held out a white-gloved hand while she fumbled with the invitation.

  She frowned at her shaking fingers. Her heart was beating way too fast. Something had unsettled her but she just couldn’t figure out what. She wasn’t afraid of shit.

  The doorman pinned her with a searching look and very slowly returned her invitation. “Dragon will be arriving with the key-holding patrons. Please find your way inside and enjoy refreshments while you wait.” He opened the door for her and allowed her in through the huge double doors.

  The vast foyer thrummed with holiday music played on a harp. A towering pine tree stood in the center of the room, filling the space with fresh evergreen fragrance. The whole space smelled like the holidays. A little early for Christmas but…this was the winter holiday party.

  A petty blonde in a flamingo mask and costume nudged her hip with a smile. “Faery of the Dragon. How delightful. I’m Flamingo,” said the beautiful and very pink woman. Her eyelashes, eye shadow and lipstick were shades of rose behind the elaborate feathered mask. She happily displayed the token attached to the center of her full breasts. It was decorated with a Bee. “Welcome to the house.”

  “Hey,” Vans replied, still shaken from her unexpected and unwanted revelation. It wasn’t very friendly but Flamingo, in her fluttery tutu, didn’t notice.

  “Have a drink? The bar is just opening.” Flamingo glanced at the tree. “There is a whole arts-and-crafts event tomorrow to make decorations for the tree. If you’re into that sort of thing. It’s a good group of people and usually ends up with some fun items for the tree and if you’re lucky enough to get on the invite list for the holiday dinner, well then you’ll see it all dressed up with lights and naughty ornaments.”

  “Holiday dinner? Really? With kinksters?”

  “Sure. I haven’t ever made the list but I hear it is the best party to attend. Very exclusive. There aren’t masks and no public shenanigans. It’s very romantic and classy. Which is more my kink than most of the harder stuff. I’m a bit of a coward compared to some of these pain lovers.”

  Vans tried to get her head around that concept. Her whole idea of BDSM was the hard stuff. Whips. Chains. Hurt me. Hurt you. There was romance? Classy?

  “How exactly do you avoid the harder stuff?” Vans asked and frowned at the amused smile the other woman gave her.

  “It’s called a safe word for a reason. It’s complete bullshit that you have to do everything. I’m not into cutting or branding or— What do you want to drink?”

  Cutting. Branding. Vans felt the warmth coil through her belly, tightening down to her sex where it grew substantially hotter. Why did that turn her on so much? Vans followed in the wake of the bubbly Flamingo and was reminded of Ursa. For the first time in weeks she didn’t feel the desire to insult her coworker. “Something light. I don’t know. Whatever.”

  “Two cosmos please,” she purred at the bartender and then turned back to Vans. “You have never played like this before, I take it. So, my advice is to try it and if you don’t like it, use your word. Don’t use it to play mind games. That’s low. Err on the side of your safe zones. If you don’t trust your partner, don’t push limits. In fact don’t even try it. Some people are into that edge play but that’s how people get hurt both physically and emotionally.”

  By the time the drinks arrived, Vans’s head was spinning. She accepted the glass and offered her companion a little smile. Looking around the room, she noticed most people had gathered in friendly groups, lounging, almost cuddling together on the couches or mingling on the stairway. Unbidden, her gaze found Leo in his archer costume, talking with several others. Flamingo sipped her drink, following her gaze.

  “Oh. Archer. He’s quite popular.”

  She started to ask more but the doors opened and the first of the key-holders began to filter into the room. Yes, they had keys to indicate their status, but these people also moved with a particular purpose. It was as if they took ownership of everything in the room, down to the air within. Vans realized they were the ones in charge. Her mouth felt suddenly very dry.

  Flamingo’s body went rigid with anticipation and then she gasped, color draining from her face.

  “What is it?”

  “My Mistress…she—”

  Vans looked to see who she was talking about, and she saw her. The Queen Bee. Her corset was bright gold with bronze-and-black stripes making arched patterns over her breasts and along her hips and lower back. A short taffeta skirt made of gold and black fringed the tops of her thighs. A dainty crown sat atop her head and a delicate filigree mask of black concealed her dark eyes. Her skin gleamed like dark walnut, her lips as full as her ample breasts, hips and ass. She must have stood six feet tall without the stilettos and she carried her dangerously curved frame with confidence. In one hand she held a dainty crop and in the other a bullwhip.

  She made a direct path to the Archer and used the handle of the whip to coax his chin up. She tried an
yway. Before it could make contact, the man surged to his feet. His sudden movement shocked his couch mates. It didn’t sway the woman, even when he loomed over her. She didn’t back down, just tipped her chin up to watch him.

  Something may have been said, but it was lost under the rumble of voices. His features were stormy as he answered with a single shake of his head. Then he slid away from her without letting her touch him. Every muscle of his dark body tensed as he strode for the stairs and up them.

  “What just happened?” Vans asked.

  Flamingo quivered at her side. “That bitch just propositioned him.” Her long fingers curled around her Bee token as she glared through her mask at the woman.

  Queen Bee tossed her head, dark curls dancing down the length of her back. The cruel smile couldn’t conceal all the emotions beneath it. A mixture Vans knew very well. Shock. Rejection. Jealousy. Desire. Guilt.

  “That’s your patron? She can do that?” It somehow made her feel better, knowing Archer-Leo didn’t only reject her. He’d shot down this dark Amazon too. Other emotions chased on satisfaction’s heels.

  Anxiety.

  Her date might do the same to her?

  Irritation.

  At Bee for insulting the pretty woman in pink who was obviously waiting for her.

  “She can ask anyone she wants to. But I can also throw this token back in her face. I should have known this was her game the whole time. That is her ex. I didn’t understand why she suddenly wanted to come to the party after having broken away. I should have known it had to do with him.”

  Vans felt raw guilt for her plots and plans, even though she knew this might be a perfect kaboom! The green-eyed monster was gone and the empty hole in her chest felt horrible.

  “Excuse me,” Flamingo said and turned away, moving to the stairs. The ruffling of pink feathers drew Bee’s attention and her expression fell. She obviously hadn’t considered the other woman would have witnessed her brazen actions.

  The pair vanished from view and prying eyes and ears. Vans swirled her drink and watched the door and the people coming in, trying to put names to their masks. Dragon did not arrive. Her patience stretched desperately thin by the time the hostess arrived to welcome them.

  House Mistress wore a black corset with sapphire stones forming a spiral of snowflakes across her breasts. The hug of the corset gave her a lovely wasp’s silhouette. A tight sheath skirt made of black leather hugged her long legs to the floor where spiked heels provided several additional inches. Her golden key rested against the swell of her breasts and her gold-and-bronze mask continued the snowflake theme.

  “Guests and patrons,” the woman said. “It is a pleasure to welcome you to the Tahoe house for the Winter Wonderland event. Isn’t it lovely that we are actually getting snow this year? I welcome the newcomers and request as always that our veterans take time to make them feel welcome.” Her scarlet lips curved slightly as her indigo eyes shifted and searched the room.

  “For those who haven’t attended a party before, all the floors of the house are open to everyone as are the outdoor areas, hot tub and atrium with pool. The private spaces are locked and if you have access, your key or card will grant you entry. A schedule of events and mealtimes will be in front of the library, which is on this floor toward the back hall. I look forward to the creative crafts we make for the Yule tree.”

  She hesitated a moment, looking at something happening at the back of the room. “I hope you will enjoy your stay. Respect the house and those under this roof with you and be safe.”

  A noise caught Vans’s attention as House Mistress frowned. Voices lifted, a couple of the tux-wearing doormen darted outside while an imposing man in a green leather mask strode across the room. The savage dragon mask hid the man’s face as he joined House Mistress. A murmur of voices lifted as they spoke in lowered tones. Whatever information he exchanged made her shoulders stiffen.

  Vans found herself captivated by that man. Unlike the others who wore as little as possible, he wore a tux like the doormen. Unlike them, his bow tie was brilliant green to match his mask. The leathery dragon headpiece had a series of horns curving back over his head to the nape of his neck.

  Dragon.

  The cowboy?

  Or the chauffeur?

  She touched the token at her shoulder, torn between striding up and inserting herself into the conversation and hanging back. The tension in their bodies as they talked kept her in place when they walked away. Together they disappeared around the tree and moved into the next room. He didn’t even look around. He didn’t glance her way. Did he even see her?

  What an asshole!

  Once they were gone, piano music filled the room. Bright holiday music rang off the walls while the conversations resumed. Pairs, trios, quads and even a six-some slipped off into the depths of the huge house to play. Although several people regarded her with smiles and winks, when they saw her token they did not approach her. She was a pretty ornament people were wary of addressing.

  She wandered around with her drink in hand, finding it impossible to locate anyone to talk to. Everyone was either partner shopping or showing off.

  It was the most humbling experience of her life.

  The women around her knew how to handle their sexual lures and the patrons were drawn in and snared. Vans, meanwhile, had her wings clipped by the token and her inexperience with this kinky crowd.

  When one more good-looking man, this one in an imp mask, gave her a thoughtful look and then moved on, she put her hand to the token, fully intending to tear it from her corset so she could shop for someone to spend some time with in the hot tub. She was keyed up and ready to go! Standing around nursing a stupid pink drink was bull—

  “Hello, pretty.” The voice was strangely familiar yet also deliciously foreign, all wrapped together. She turned to find herself looking up into the azure eyes behind the dragon mask. He looked at her fist, closed around the token. “I’ve kept you waiting, I see,” he murmured.

  The accent was all wrong! The Southern twang was gone and it wasn’t quite like the chauffeur either. His voice sounded lilting and rolling and she found herself trying to place the dialect. Then she realized this might not be real either!

  “Are you fucking with me?” Vans snapped angrily, keeping her hand around the token, more intent on pulling it free now as she realized the game he was playing with her. Baiting her. Teasing her.

  He just smiled. There was a wicked, hungry flash of very white teeth as his gaze slid down her body. “Not yet!” The way he whispered it against her cheek sent a blazing thrill through her. He covered her hand to stop her efforts and leaned in closer. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I needed to handle a few things. I admit I was enjoying being your wild, roughneck cowboy. You really did get fired up.”

  “You’re not a cowboy? What the fuck?” She reached out to slap at his shoulder.

  He laughed, not bothering to avoid her hit. Reaching out, he played with the shoulder strap of her corset when she didn’t draw away from him. “I am not a cowboy. I just like dressing like one when I’m working on location. The country music isn’t so bad either. God, you are beautiful.” His knuckle grazed along her collarbones and up her neck toward her jaw. “I’ve been watching you standing here displaying yourself to every man who will look. Did you think I didn’t see you?” he whispered, lips brushing her cheek as his knuckles feathered along her chin, carefully coaxing her it up. “You’re so angry.”

  She wanted to deny it and say she wasn’t but it came out as a growl just before he kissed her. The leather scent on the mask was very much like the smell of him she remembered from the bookstore and she found herself melting into him, uttering a soft whimper into his mouth as she arched toward him, rubbing against the crisp shirt and jacket, loving the texture of fine wool under her fingertips.

  The taste of him was like nutmeg and cloves, his mouth slow and seductive on hers. He began kissing her leisurely with just the press of lips on her mouth befo
re he lured her out. Flicking his tongue tip lightly against hers at first to draw her toward him. Then he was twining and coiling with her, forceful and greedy. He licked against her upper lip. Suddenly his arms were around her, lifting her and crushing her to him. One hand covered her ass, the other sank into her hair, and his tongue plunged deep into her mouth.

  He was much stronger than she expected. She could feel the hard lines of muscles through the tux as she tried to climb up his body, legs wrapping around his trim hips. As she rolled her hips forward to grind against him, his moans vibrated into her, and around her tongue that he sucked into his mouth.

  The hard cock grinding against her sex made it obvious how long he’d been watching her. He’d been devouring her with his electric-blue eyes without her ever knowing. Watching her lose patience waiting for him. She felt the proof of what she’d done to him.

  Her moans and soft sighs echoed his and he growled in pleasure. Unexpectedly he broke the kiss and drew his head back. His eyes met hers, holding her with a fierce satisfaction. “There we go.” His big hand squeezed her ass and supported her as he ground against her. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you shattering your unworthy vase against the side of the shop. I noticed my flowers were spared. They met your expectation?” He nuzzled his way to her ear, breath warm and teasing. “Tell me why.”

  For a moment she couldn’t think as the warm rush of his breath filled her senses with delicious tingles. “They were beautiful.” Her voice cracked and he gripped her ass harder, squeezing until she cried out.

  “They were boring red roses. Tell me why you didn’t discard them,” he insisted and punctuated the demand by taking her earlobe between his teeth and biting down hard.

  Parts of her liquefied! Her heart hammered so hard and she buried her face in his shoulder as she cried out. Was it pleasure or pain? Pain. Yes. But a golden barb of desire and need spasmed out from the sensation, filling her in places she didn’t know existed. She wanted more. She made some incoherent sound and he released her ear and lightly kissed the spot.