The Deal (Trading Hearts #3)

by Saskia Walker

  That showed her he'd put a plan in place for their reunion, which made her interest peak. "Okay."

  His expression simmered. "I have something entirely different planned for this weekend."

  "You do?"

  "I'm determined to keep your mind off Georgio's verdict."

  Arousal made her light headed. "If anyone can, you can."

  * * * *

  Dazed, blissed-out, and wondering if she'd dreamt it all, Naomi sipped her green tea and watched the sushi passing her by on the conveyor belt.

  Sam grabbed a passing selection. "I'll starve if I have to wait for you to decide first."

  "Sorry." Naomi laughed. "I'm miles away." She picked up a plate, scarcely looking at the contents.

  "I'm so glad it went well."

  "It did, and he liked my samples, but he has others to see. There's only room for one newbie on his list. It could go either way."

  "It must have been exciting, showing your stuff to a top agent like that, a man who has the ear of all the buyers."

  "It was." But not quite as exciting as what happened next. Had she really done that – fast, sudden sex with Lucas? Naomi tried to fathom it out. She'd been determined to go off in a huff after another run in with Clara, but Lucas told her he wanted her and that was it – she was putty in his hands. He'd lost his air of self-control there, almost, and her best efforts to walk away had totally failed. As he'd said, they were well matched. Like magnets, unable to resist the powerful pull between them.

  Sam tucked in to her sushi. "Mm, this is so good."

  Naomi lifted the domed cover from her plate and moved the sushi around with the chopsticks. The food looked amazing, but she wasn't hungry.

  Sam looked at her closely. "You look different.. Is there something you're not telling me?"

  Naomi dropped the California roll she had on the way to her mouth.

  "Oh my God," Sam exclaimed loudly. "I know what it is! You’ve had sex, haven’t you?"

  "Is it that obvious?" She laughed. She couldn't help it. They'd shared thoughts about men and life since art college days, so she felt comfortable talking to Sam about it.

  "Yep, but I thought you weren't seeing him until this evening."

  "That's what life is like with Lucas. Expect the unexpected is probably the best motto to keep in mind."

  "I'm guessing it was after your meeting with the buyer."

  "I don't think I could have walked into a meeting if it'd happened beforehand. I could scarcely walk in a straight line afterward."

  Sam was agog. "What happened?"

  Naomi described the scenario in the reception and the security guard office.

  "You're basically telling me he ran out of a meeting to shag you in a store cupboard?"

  "Yes, I suppose that's the long and short of it." Naomi laughed. The way Sam put it sounded crazy. It felt more real though, having told it aloud to Sam. They were close. They'd bonded in college when they realized they had in common their love for yarn, and the fact that they were both from opposite ends of the land. Where Naomi was Scottish and loved knitwear, Sam was Cornish and had a deep love of crochet. Even though Sam now worked as a deputy manager in a renowned London Art Gallery, she still made unusual items in crochet and sold them online.

  "So what's the wife like?" Sam asked as she picked up a deep fried tofu.

  "She looks like me."

  "Really?" Sam looked puzzled. "That's a bit weird."

  "Well, I'm exaggerating. If she was bald she wouldn’t look much like me." She laughed. The picture of Clara without hair had shot into her mind uninvited.

  "Oh, I see, she's a redhead?"

  "Yes."

  "Natural or dyed?"

  "Dyed, I believe."

  "Well then, you're leagues ahead of her."

  "Don’t be daft, dyeing your hair is no crime."

  Sam winked. "I'm joking. You know what I mean. Seriously though, do you think she's regretting her decision to get a divorce?"

  "I don’t know. I sense she's just a drama queen, but I've only seen her twice and she kicked off both times. It's difficult to form an objective decision, especially when Lucas appears looking drop dead gorgeous and making demands all over the place."

  "I love how that sounds. I must try to find me a Dom. You'll have to give me guidance on how to find one."

  "My "find" was more a stumble in the dark."

  "Nevertheless you owe it to this old pal to help her find one too."

  "If I can think of a way, I will."

  Sam sighed wistfully. A moment later she refocused. "What do you suppose he has in store for you later – this promise to keep your mind off business?"

  "I have no idea," Naomi replied with a slightly nervous laugh.

  I'll soon find out.

  Chapter Five

  Lucas is holding my hand.

  Naomi clung to the thought as the chauffeured car sped toward their destination on the south side of London. His touch would get her through the nervousness she carried. Lucas was taking her to a fetish club event.

  Surprisingly, she'd fast grown accustomed to her outfit, outrageous as it was. Entirely black PVC, skin tight and highly sexualized, it made her feel supremely feminine and desirable. Both the fitted bodice and the tight skirt were zipped up the back, and when she moved she could feel the zip-pull dangling enticingly against the back of her thighs – like an invitation to unzip and open her up.

  Lucas had chosen the PVC ensemble and dressed her, cherishing her through each important step. At first she thought the outfit would be restrictive, but the synthetic fabric had quickly warmed against her skin and grown supple, becoming a second skin that revealed her every curve.

  "I want you to promise if you feel at all uncomfortable, just say. We'll leave."

  "I promise."

  He squeezed her hand. "It's time to agree a safeword."

  "I suppose it is." She pressed back into her seat, trying to keep her breathing even, one hand stroking the D-ring collar at her neck. "What do you suggest?"

  He smiled. "How about dealbreaker?"

  Naomi laughed. "It's perfect."

  "Any time you want to stop what we're doing, or to take it elsewhere or leave, mention dealbreaker."

  "I will."

  She stared at him, admiring his easy ability to take charge, absorbing his powerful masculine presence. It made her feel feminine in way she'd never experienced before. Tonight he was clad in leather, snug leather pants and a jacket that creaked and purred when he moved to pull her closer to his side. Beneath the jacket he wore a tight white T shirt that showed his breathtakingly masculine physique to perfection.

  Naomi was constantly aware of the long leather lead he carried with him in his pocket, what it meant and how she would feel wearing it. The way he'd shown it to her – cracking the leather against his hand before he tucked it away – was a statement of intent. It astonished her that she instantly craved to be Lucas's pet. Instinctively she knew it would make her feel special, and safe, whatever the situation. The fact it made her outrageously horny was mystifying, but she embraced it.

  He carried another BDSM accouterment that also held her attention even though she couldn’t see it. A slender rubber baton. He'd shown it to her once they were fully dressed. Asking her to hold out her hand, he'd tapped it there lightly to allow her to gauge its power. It was subtle, but she figured it could pack a sting. When she'd nodded her consent, he put it in the inner pocket of his jacket.

  The car slowed down and pulled up outside a large, gaunt building with a spotlight over the door. Clusters of fetishist-dressed people moved in pairs and groups to the entrance. She saw leather, PVC, rubber, uniforms of all varieties – and the accessories of a sexual playground – handcuffs on belts, chains, whips and masks.

  "The creatures of the night." Lucas grinned.

  She'd never seen him smile with such relish. This really was his play space. It made her shiver with anticipation. What if she couldn't hack it? Braving herself, sh
e leaned forward in the seat to take a closer look.

  Lucas pressed the window button and lowered it an inch or two, allowing her to hear the chatter and laughter emerging from the gaggle of people moving toward the door.

  "Just people on a night out," she murmured.

  Lucas nodded. "Wearing their fetish."

  She could see tickets were being checked by a woman at the door to the event. Two leather clad bouncers stood a ways off behind her, but it was a glamorous woman at the front. A mistress. She was dramatically tall and wore a glossy red dress patterned with black and orange flames around the hem and over the shoulders. A mask of black shiny fabric was wrapped around her eyes. Jet black hair cascaded over her shoulders to her hips. Her make up was immaculate and she chatted as she directed the club attendees through the doorway. A fragment of the conversation reached Naomi and she realized the woman was commenting on the fetish gear the party goers wore.

  Naomi wanted to hear what the woman might say about her outfit.

  The entrance itself was an impressive gothic stone arch. Two massive old fashioned metal studded doors stood open within it. It made her curious. She craned her neck, looking above at the stone façade.

  "It's a church," she whispered, astonished.

  "It is indeed," Lucas replied. "We'll be attending mass."

  "Mass?"

  He winked.

  She laughed at the idea of it. "If this is mass, can I make a confession before I go in?"

  Lucas gave a husky laugh and nodded.

  "I'm nervous."

  "That's part of the thrill." He looped one finger through her D-ring and tugged on it. "It'll keep you on edge, your senses heightened. The rush of exposure is something I feel sure you'll enjoy."

  Her lips parted, but all she could do was acknowledge how right he was – the thrill she was already experiencing would come alive as she entered the fetish scene with him – her handsome master's willing pet.

  "You like the idea?" He ran one hand over the outline of her PVC encased breast.

  "Yes." She swallowed. "I do."

  "Good." With one fingernail, he scratched the surface over her nipple making her shift in her seat and moan aloud. "Then there's my thrill," he added. "Seeing you fetishized, parading when you walk unashamed into the throng."

  Images flashed through her mind, her on her hands and knees on Lucas's lead. Arousal flamed through her pelvis. In the background club goers filed past to join the party. She caught sight of chains and handcuffs hanging from belts.

  Lucas ducked his head to kiss her gently, his finger looped in her D-ring all the while. Her mouth opened to his, inviting him in. The kiss made her want sex – all of it. She was about ready to beg him to fuck her before they went in.

  When he drew back, he pulled the lead from his pocket and hooked it into place at the D-ring on her collar. He looked at her quizzically. "Are you ready to enter the party, to be revealed, adored…and…perhaps, pleasured?"

  Pleasured? Did that mean what she thought, that there would be sexual activities as well as a fetish club scene? She imagined Lucas showing her off, perhaps making her come – while others watched. A hot tide flooded her whole body, making her squirm. It was a huge turn-on.

  He pushed his hand between her thighs, his thumb quickly finding the hot, damp crease in her panties. Stroking her quickly, he locked her gaze with is. "If I make you come in there, in front of others, how do you think it would make you feel?"

  To climax in public? She squirmed against his hand.

  He moved his thumb faster, sparking her clit, making her arousal soar and explode through every nerve ending. "Would you be able to enjoy it?"

  No, I can't, no.

  But she didn’t say no. She didn't deny him.

  Instead, she nodded.

  * * * *

  Lucas kept her close as they walked through the Torture Garden, observing her cautiously, his senses on high alert. This was his opportunity to glean what appealed to her and what didn't.

  "Wow, it's amazing." Naomi looked up at the gaunt architecture and the buttressed walls. The dance floor was filled with dry ice, strobe lighting and the dancing crowd. The interior space of the disused church had been sectioned off, with a massive dance floor at the near end, where industrial dance music pumped up the crowd. Smaller rooms and corridors sheared up the rest of the space, where different activities were held – displays, installments, performance art and play rooms.

  They picked up a couple of tequila slammers at the bar and then went closer into the main dance space. Lucas pointed out the DJs lined up on the altar.

  "A new kind of worship," he commented, leaning in to her ear to speak so she could hear him over the music.

  Naomi nodded. "It’s a stunning use of the space."

  Lucas was pleased. "I wish I'd thought of it. The guys who put these events together are genius. It's a clever use of space too, much more atmospheric than a warehouse club location. It's always a shame to see churches and pubs boarded up."

  He held her lead loosely in his left hand and with his right he held her hand. Anticipation lit her expression and Lucas felt a deep sense of satisfaction settling in him. He wanted to introduce her to so much, but he had to know, to be sure of her eagerness.

  "Come, let's have a look at the other rooms. If there is anything that disturbs you just say."

  "Lucas, stop fretting." She didn't look disturbed, she looked intrigued, her eyes glittering within her mask.

  He took her to the burlesque room where a trio of burlesque dancers where performing an elaborate peek-a-boo striptease. The set was candy striped and had a post-WW2 kitsch feel to it.

  Lucas immediately felt the energy coming off Naomi. She nodded, smiling at him. "This is great, I love burlesque."

  "Do they have a burlesque club in Edinburgh?"

  "I've seen several different events advertised. Nothing as big as this."

  They moved on to a display of body piercing.

  Naomi watched, fascinated, as a built guy revealed his multiple piercings on a starkly lit set. Preparations were under way for him to receive more.

  Lucas noticed she was quieter. "That kind of pain doesn't appeal so much?"

  She shook her head. "It's something I can watch, but not for me. Why, were you planning on having me studded?"

  He laughed. "No. You're perfect as you are."

  In one of the performance rooms they watched a beautiful transvestite singing Edith Piaf songs. Naomi snuggled against him. "I adore Piaf," she murmured against his ear when he ducked down to ask if she was enjoying it.

  It was something he didn’t know about her. There was so much more to learn, and he anticipated every moment of it.

  "Does it concern you that someone might recognize you?" she asked. "You don’t wear a mask."

  "Not at all. The fetish scene is part of who I am."

  "Lucas, there's so much to love and learn about you," she purred.

  "I was just thinking that about you." It meant a lot that she genuinely respected his openness about his BDSM side. And something about the way she'd said that triggered a reaction he wasn't expecting – he craved her. He wanted to hold her and then set her on a podium and let people look at his woman. It was like a confirmation of something he sensed about her in the beginning – they were kindred souls. She'd indicated she hadn't explored that side of herself before. He was more than willing to help her explore.

  "Do you come here often?" She chuckled, it was deep and throaty, and it made him want to stroke her, so he did.

  "A few times a year." He moved his hand under he hair, kneading the back of her neck affectionately.

  "You haven't met anyone here?"

  "I don’t think of the scene that way. I've never come here to meet someone. I just enjoy the liberation, the open decadence of the sexual self. I've always felt it’s a place to share with your other half, a playground to explore together."

  "Your other half?" she repeated.

  It was a b
it of a romantic turn of phrase, he supposed. But it's how he thought of it – and what he wanted her to be. He silently admitted that to himself. He took her fingertips to his lips and kissed her. "Sorry, I guess it does sound a bit old fashioned and romantic. My parents use the phrase about one another, that’s where it came from."

  "Oh Lucas, you have parents." She chuckled.

  She could have teased him about the romantic turn of phrase, and he was grateful she didn't. He would tell her how he felt about her soon, but not now. "I do, although my father and I don’t often see eye to eye."

  "Ah, yes you mentioned your father was in the retail trade. I confess I hadn’t ever though about Lucas Eaglestone – Mr. Intimating himself – having parents." Her eyes twinkled. "It seems like you were just made this way. Now I'm trying to picture you as a teenager."

  "Oh please. Come on. Time for another tequila."

  "Wait. One more question since we're talking about this place. I didn't want to bring this subject up," she said, "but I must ask."

  "Go on."

  "Did you bring Clara here?"

  "Once. At the time she said she wasn't comfortable being public about her sexuality. I came to realize she wasn't into this kind of sexuality." He frowned.

  "I'm sorry, I had to ask. I can relax now." She hugged close to his side as they stood by the bar.

  He was glad she'd asked. "I vowed I wouldn't mention his name this weekend but sometimes I come here with Georgio and other friends."

  "Georgio! Really? What's his fetish?"

  "A bit of everything. Georgio loves to dress up."

  Naomi seemed delighted by that. "And the others, friends into the same scene?"

  He nodded. "A banker and his wife, a couple of guys I know in advertising."

  "Wow, really…will I meet them, one day?"

  "Of course." Satisfaction settled on him.

  They had another round of tequila slammers.

  They danced on the club floor. He loved the way she moved. She turned back and forth against him, using his body as her totem, looking about the crowd while she moved. He smiled when he saw her curiosity. "Like what you see?"