by Eden Summers
“Should it?” He grazed his mouth over hers. “You don’t want to know how many times I’ve watched him with women. It’s become as natural as sharing a drink with him at the bar.”
“Never again, okay?” She rested her forehead against his, working her hips harder. “If you’re down here, I want to be with you. No more watching him without me.”
He released a breathy snicker and jerked his hips in a hard thrust. “I can commit to that.”
She ground into him, her movements becoming more forceful, her desire growing as his hands ran up her sides, brushing the curve of her breasts.
“I’ve missed these.” He tweaked her nipples, earning a hard thrust in retaliation. “I’ve missed everything.”
He bucked harder, his grip moving to her ass, pressing her down harder on his cock. She began to pant, trying to focus to curb the impending climax. She was so close…almost there.
“Tate.” His name was barely audible, a mere whisper against his neck.
He growled, moving his hips in a harsh rhythm as she clung to his shoulders. She couldn’t wait. She’d been too long without his love.
“Tate…” Her pussy contracted, erupting in sensation that ebbed throughout her body.
He groaned, digging his fingers into her flesh. Her name whispered from his lips, a repeated caress she’d cherish forever.
“You’re never leaving me again.” It was a demand. One she would ensure he adhered to.
“I promise.” His lips brushed her jaw, her cheek, her lips. “Never again, Cassie.”
“You need to stop the divorce. You need to make it go away.”
“I will. Don’t even spare it a thought.”
She nodded, their mouths still pressed together as their movement slowed and silence descended around them. She wasn’t sure what she expected. Applause? Cheers? None came. The club continued as if their monumental reunion hadn’t existed.
She glanced over her shoulder, to Brute who was still staring at her, Leo and Shay now positioned at his sides. All three of them smiled…well, Brute’s lips lifted slightly. Their expressions of satisfaction filled her lungs with renewed warmth.
“I think they’re glad I’ll no longer be torturing them with my mood swings,” T.J. spoke into her hair.
“And you’ll no longer be torturing me by living somewhere else.” She nestled against his shoulder and faced the back wall. His length was still inside her, his heart beating into her chest. Losing him scared her. It always would. She could lose the sun, the moon, the breath from her lungs, but as long as T.J. was with her, she’d be happy.
“Are you okay?” he spoke into her hair.
“Perfect.” She sighed and nuzzled closer to him.
The pain was easing. The mourning being replaced with hope for their future.
“Take me home, T.J.” She pulled back and stared into his eyes. “I want to fall asleep in your arms.”
Epilogue
“We really need to get these women on a leash,” Brute muttered. “Every time I turn my back, it seems like they’re fucking up the Vault.”
T.J. grinned, unable to drag his gaze away from Cassie and Shay swaying their hips on the small dance floor they’d added to the far corner of the club. The music was low so it didn’t disturb the carnal atmosphere, but in his opinion, the slow, sultry songs they’d programmed into the nearby iPhone only added fuel to the fire.
He hadn’t been able to move since he’d taken a seat on the leather sofa a few feet away. Neither had Leo, who sat at the other end, his focus trained on Shay as the two women danced around each other.
“I think they’re deliberately trying to drive me crazy.” Leo scowled.
“Ya think?” Brute chuckled. “It’s having the same effect on James.”
T.J. and Leo studied the man sitting on a nearby sofa. He had a drink in his hand, and a wolfish gleam in his eye as he observed the dance floor.
“Are you sure he passed the security check?” Leo asked. “I don’t like the look of him.”
“Me either.” T.J. turned his attention back to Cassie. “Make sure his name is taken off the list. I don’t want to see him here again.” Letting go of his protective nature wasn’t easy. Especially not when unfamiliar men were ogling his wife. He was happy for regulars to look their fill. She was a woman made to be admired, but he didn’t know this man.
“You can’t deny entry to every guy that wants to fuck your wife.” Brute stood behind them, looming over the back of the sofa. “If that were the case, I wouldn’t be allowed down here either.”
“Funny,” T.J. grated.
“Not joking.” Brute clapped him on the shoulder. “What’s with the phone anyway?” He leaned forward and snatched the device from T.J.’s hand.
“Just having a little fun.” He’d convinced his wife to wear the sex toy he’d given her years ago. One half of the C-shaped instrument was burrowed inside her pussy, while the other was wrapped around to nestle against her clit. “It’s an app for the sex toy Cass is wearing.”
He chanced a quick glance over his shoulder at Brute who was focused on the phone. “Every once in a while, I press one of those buttons and it triggers vibrations.”
“You’ve been doing that all night?” Brute asked.
“Mostly.” It was thrilling to know he was pleasuring her without anyone else’s knowledge. Her pussy was probably dripping, the evidence of her arousal barely contained in the lace G-string he’d picked for her to wear.
“What happens if I press a lot of buttons?” Brute tapped on the screen.
“I think you can figure that out for yourself.”
“And you’re not worried that I’m going to make your wife come?”
T.J. grinned, still staring at his wife. “Not in the slightest.” There wasn’t another man who could tempt Cassie. He may not deserve her, but she was committed to him nonetheless. Her love was flowing through his veins, her happiness a constant beat in his heart.
“Go for it.” T.J. reclined, spreading his arms along the back and arm of the sofa. She’d know he wasn’t controlling the sex toy as soon as she glanced his way, and he had a feeling it would have a positive effect on her.
All three of them watched in silence, the rhythmic tap of Brute’s finger against the screen in time with the slow beat of “Gorilla” by Bruno Mars.
“She hasn’t even noticed.” Leo inched forward on the seat. “Are you sure she’s still wearing it?”
“She’s noticed.” He could tell from the heavy convulse of her throat as she swallowed, the brief, almost unnoticeable way she brushed her arms over her breasts as she raised them over her head in a sultry move. Her feet were closer together, too, allowing her to squeeze her thighs together and disguise it as dancing.
He scrutinized her, ignoring the incessant throb of his cock that hadn’t seemed to ebb since he’d moved back home two weeks ago. She licked her lips, her chest rising and falling quicker, her actions becoming slower. “I think she’s about to break.”
Each day was getting easier. Their passion had reignited as if it had never been extinguished. All they had to do now was wait for the past to stop haunting them. Peace would come with time. But what was more important was the steady ownership of the life they led.
She turned to him, her chin high, her footsteps shaky as she strode forward on her stiletto heels.
“Should I prepare to be slapped?” Brute muttered.
T.J. shook his head. “No.” That wasn’t anger in her eyes.
She didn’t stop her progression. She came at him, climbing onto the couch and straddling his hips.
“Enjoying your dan—”
She cut off his words with a kiss. A wild, passionate kiss that had her tongue sneaking into his mouth to tangle with his. She ran her fingers through his hair, her other hand gripping his shoulder, digging her nails deep.
“Why did you give your phone to Brute?” She moaned into his mouth, her hips gyrating, the vibrations of the sex toy pulsing into h
is shaft.
“I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“I don’t.” She mewled, driving him insane with the rough way she ground against him. “Oh, God, I don’t.”
Leo cursed and Brute’s finger began to tap against the screen again.
“Wait. Stop.” Cassie glanced up at Brute, her eyes imploring. “Please. Don’t turn it down.”
Asshole. T.J. knew exactly what his friend was doing.
“Brute,” Cassie begged. “I need it harder. Please. Do it harder.”
“You hear that, Tate?” Brute boasted. “Your wife is begging me to give it to her harder.”
“You’re fucking predictable.” T.J. shook his head, and ground his teeth together. “Would you hurry the fuck up, so I don’t make a fool out of myself?”
Brute tapped a few more times, creating a harsh vibration in Cassie’s pussy that pulsated all the way through him. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it out unscathed. He was dying to have her. To sink into her.
She moaned, her arms gripping tight around his neck. “I can’t breathe.” She was panting, rocking her hips back and forth, snaking her tongue out to wet her dry lips. “I need more.”
“Sorry,” Brute grated, the sound of arousal heavy in his voice. “That’s as high as it goes, sweetheart.”
Shay strode forward, her slender frame coming to stand at Cassie’s back. She peered down at T.J., a familiar gleam in her eyes. “Need help?”
Fuck. If Cassie didn’t quit gyrating over his cock and come soon, he was going to explode. There was no question about it. He’d either have to take himself in hand or figure out a way to get his wife’s underwear off in a hurry. “Yes.”
Leo cursed again. This time louder.
Shay turned her focus to her boyfriend and smirked as she brushed the hair back from Cassie’s neck. “It’s just a kiss.” She leaned down, brushing her mouth at the low of Cassie’s neck.
“You’ve got ten seconds to get over here.” Leo began counting down, his tone becoming harsher the lower the numbers fell.
“And if I don’t?”
“Jesus Christ,” Brute snapped. “Would you take this somewhere else? Can’t you see I’m trying to work my magic here?”
Shay held up her hands in surrender and sauntered toward Leo, taking her steps nice and slow. “You’re on your own, Cass.”
Cassie whimpered, once, twice, then sunk her teeth into T.J.’s neck as every muscle in her body clung to him, holding tight. She stopped breathing. Then her body began to shudder, the orgasm hitting her as she rocked into him.
Breathe. Focus. Do not come. Do. Not. Come.
“Just think of me, buddy,” Brute whispered in his ear.
That did the trick. Somewhat. He glanced over his shoulder and snatched his phone back, lowering the vibration settings as Cassie began to settle in to his chest, her exhalations a constant stroke over his skin.
He closed the app, locked his phone and threw it onto the seat at his side, mere inches from Leo who now had his girlfriend straddling his lap. Their mouths were joined, their bodies chest to chest as Leo cupped Shay’s face in his hands.
“This is getting old.” Brute huffed. “I need to go get laid before we close up. I’ll see you all later.”
T.J. inclined his head and clutched the woman in his arms tightly. He held her close, enjoying the adoration that took over the need for pleasure. They weren’t back to normal. They were back at the beginning. Going on date nights, reigniting puppy love and mixing it with the years of commitment they already had.
It was a blessed combination.
“Let’s go home,” he spoke into her hair.
She pushed her hands against his chest and pulled back to stare at him. “You don’t want to stay?”
“Not tonight.” He shook his head. They had years to spend in here. To have fun with friends and strangers. He wanted to be greedy. For the rest of the night, he would have her all to himself. And maybe every other night until she grew tired of his affection. “I want to take you home and show you just how much I love you.”
Her eyes twinkled. “You haven’t stopped doing that for the last three weeks.”
“No.” He smiled, brushing his lips over hers. “And I never will.”
Brutal Sin
Dedication
For those who like damaged goods. I hope you enjoy Brute.
Chapter One
Pamela slid her bare thighs onto the bar stool, feigning relaxation even though the sensation was illusive.
Whimpers and groans filled her ears, along with the rhythmic slap of naked, sweaty bodies. At one time, she’d thrived on this atmosphere. The lascivious environment had invigorated her. Awakened her.
Until the excitement wore off and desperation set in.
Escaping to the Vault of Sin had been her monthly ritual for almost two years. She’d started out optimistic, hoping to replace the void her husband’s death had gouged into her chest with the delicious thrill of the exclusive sex club. Now, the bright hope had faded to black, making her bitter and resentful. There was nobody here for her. No one to give her what she needed. What she craved.
“Are you looking for company, sweetie?”
From the corner of her eye, she took in the man beside her. With the gentle tone of one word—sweetie—she could tell his aim for the night was to role play in genres unsuitable to her palate. She didn’t want to be his good little girl. She didn’t require a pedestal or the touch of a delicate hand. Her desires were far more complex than that.
“I’m good, thanks.”
It was time to face the harsh reality. Her sex life would forever be on a downward slide. Her marriage to a man who had pinpoint precision on her libido had ruined her for future lovers. She needed to stop wasting time on men who lacked the skill and patience to get her off. She’d squandered enough Saturday nights already, spent months upon months playing with men who refused to take non-verbal cues.
“You sure?” He placed his hand against the ribbons tying the back of her corset, now entranced with the navy-blue flecks in the material sparkling in the bar light. The boned lingerie, along with the silken panties she currently wore, were a present from her late husband, Lucas. One of the last presents he’d given her. “You look lonely.”
She sighed. Yep, she definitely needed to move on. Now men weren’t even taking verbal cues. “Not lonely. Just alone. There’s a difference.” She swiveled on the stool and slid to her feet. “And besides, we’ve been together before. It isn’t something I want to repeat.”
“Aww, honey, from memory, we had a lot of fun.”
“You had a lot of fun.” She bit her tongue to stop elaborating.
His brows pulled tight, encouraging her to walk away in case he interjected with an insult of his own. When she’d first arrived at the Vault, the other patrons had considered her shy and apprehensive. They hadn’t seen past her exterior. They hadn’t attempted to look deeper.
To them, she resembled a shallow, neglected puddle, when the reality was an expanse of tumultuous ocean. She knew exactly what she was searching for. The checklist was small but specific. And apparently, each item was more rare than a unicorn.
Her feet stopped of their own accord as she came to the open doorway of one of the side rooms. Zoe, another regular club patron, was on the sofa along the wall, her two men paying homage to her scantily-clad body with such sweet finesse it made Pamela’s eyes burn.
The threat of tears wasn’t due to weakness or heartbreak. These were tears of frustration. Of utter annoyance and anger. Why was it so difficult to find a man in tune with her needs, the way these men were in tune with Zoe’s?
Everywhere she turned, sexual chemistry stared back at her. The bartender, Shay, had it with her manager boyfriend, Leo. Then there was T.J. and his wife, Cassie, along with every other duo inside the secretive walls of the carnal club.
Maybe her appetite was the problem.
Her desires were too specific. She had no use for sweet aff
ection. She craved finesse in a more dominant form. The skill of a man who could inspire an orgasm mentally as well as physically. Damn it. Was she being overly critical? It wasn’t as if she expected a stranger to learn everything about her in one touch. Problem was, some men still had no clue after three orgasms.
Theirs.
Not hers.
“They’re good together, aren’t they?” The smooth drawl came from a man at her back. “They adore her.”
“Yes, they do.” She closed her eyes briefly and forced down the instinct to fling another rejection. “But I’m looking for something a little more…”
“What?”
She shrugged. Pointing out specifics seemed equivalent to gifting a completed puzzle. Where was the fun in that?
“Whatever it is, I’m happy to help.”
Her last slivers of hope faded with each breath. “I want to be controlled.” The admission came with a wince. She shouldn’t be encouraging more opportunities for disappointment. There’d already been enough.
“Hmm.” His thighs leaned into her, his unmistakable erection nestling against her ass. “I can control you, princess.”
An arm wrapped around her waist. The touch light, delicate—a man playing a dominant role he had no idea how to perfect.
She turned, seeing him for the first time, his hand now draped over the low of her back. He was attractive enough. A soft hazel gaze, smooth skin, and neatly cut brown hair. What he didn’t have was the zing. The buzz. The commanding presence in his eyes.
“Not tonight.” She pulled away, only to be stopped by his tightening grip.
“You’ll stay,” he ordered.
A shiver ran down her spine. It could’ve been a delicious thrill, the start of something promising, only his features didn’t match his tone. He was a scared kitten behind that hold. There was no conviction. No power.
“Take your hand off me,” she grated.
It wasn’t easy to play an unfamiliar role. It took balls. Large ones. And the man she needed required cojones the size of a rhino, not a mouse.