“Nuh-uh,” Maximus says, swiftly turning me back around so all I can see is him and the wall beyond. I bite down a surge of anger. Just who does he think he is?
“What?” I say belligerently. “I’m not allowed to look around now? What exactly is this place, anyway? What were you going to say about Ethan before? Why does it feel like I can’t remember half of what happened since I got here? And who made you my keeper?” Once the questions start pouring out of me, I can’t stop them, even as Maximus’s gaze grows grimmer and his eyebrows rise higher and higher on his forehead.
“Are you quite finished?” he says, once I run out of breath.
“Are you going to give me any answers?” I counter.
“Sure. Of course you’re allowed to look around but right now, we’re having a conversation and I’d rather talk to your front than to your back. This place is, as you correctly surmised, a BDSM club. The owner likes to keep it secret as we only cater to exclusive clientele.”
“Like Ethan?” I say drily, unable to stop myself.
Maximus pretends not to have heard me but I didn’t miss the tic in his jaw when I said that. He presses on. “I can’t say for sure what would have happened if I hadn’t come to your aid earlier, but I’m sure you can come up with a few scenarios yourself. What do predators typically do when they have a beautiful woman ensnared? As for your trouble remembering, it wouldn’t surprise me if he slipped something into your drink. Did he have any chance to do anything like that?”
I feel my face grow hot as I remember Ethan getting us the glasses of wine at the bar upstairs. I was so excited to finally get in that I made a dumb mistake. For god’s sake, I’m thirty-five, not some college kid at her first bar. “He may have,” I admit in a small voice, staring at my thighs so as not to see the reproach in Maximus’s eyes.
“And no, I’m not your keeper,” he continues. “But looking after our guests is my job and I happen to take it seriously. So until I know you’re fit to drive home, I will be keeping an eye on you.”
“What if someone else needs your help in the meantime?”
“I’m not the only DM here. And I can see past you.” The corner of his wide, generous mouth curls up, revealing a devastating dimple in his cheek. “I’m fairly good at multi-tasking, as every good dom should be.”
Goddamnit, he has an answer for everything. I take a sip of coffee to hide how flustered I am as a sudden image enters my mind of me tied up, naked, writhing, dancing to his tune as he slaps me with one big hand and strokes my clit with the other.
“Want me to prove it?”
His growled question drags me out of my reverie and I’m not sure I heard correctly. “What?” I suddenly have difficulty looking at him.
“You heard me. Don’t pretend the thought of me taking you somewhere private and making you walk that razor’s edge of pleasure and pain doesn’t make that secret place between your legs tingle.”
I’m so stunned that all I can do is blink as a jolt of desire thumps through my core. I swallow past my suddenly dry throat and pretend to be unaffected. “I thought you were on duty?”
Once again he graces me with that lazy, lopsided smile so at odds with his firm stance and masculine presence. “I’m due a break soon.”
“How long is your break?” I whisper, squeezing my thighs together against the sudden surge of longing between them.
“Long enough. So… how about it? Fancy a little playtime?” His expression is intense and it’s then that I realize: this is a trick. He’s testing me.
“What, and make the same mistake twice in one evening?” I’m livid at the idea that I almost fell for it. How desperate, how starved of pleasure must I be to even consider going back into one of those booths with yet another virtual stranger? “I don’t think so.” Shoving my mug into his hands, I slip off the stool. “I’m perfectly capable of driving now, so I think I’ll head on home. Thanks for the coffee.” I’ve just turned away when I feel him grip my shoulder.
“Wait,” he says.
I spin back around, my heart pounding. “I appreciate your rescuing me, and it was lovely to meet you, Maximus. Thank you for lending me your jacket and I meant what I said, I’ll bring it back tomorrow. Will this place be open?” I gabble, feeling more foolish by the second.
“It will.” His composure only serves to heighten my anxiousness. “But haven’t you forgotten something?”
That question catches me off-guard. “I can’t think what.”
He rakes me up and down with a look which makes me tingle all over. “Where are your keys?”
Shit. I cast my mind back over the events of the evening, trying to remember where I last had my purse. “In my bag.”
“Which would be where?”
I don’t know! I want to scream at him. “I don’t suppose you saw it in the booth?”
“I didn’t.”
It’s all getting to be too much. Hot tears sting my eyes but I blink them back, determined not to show weakness. “It may still be there. Or is there a lost and found here somewhere?”
“There is. Come on, let’s go and look.”
I’ve been strong and independent my entire life. I take care of others, it’s what I do. I don’t have people take care of me, and I certainly don’t need a rescuer. If Maximus finds my purse before I do, he’ll have rescued me twice in one evening. I can’t bear the thought.
Still, my keys are in there, as well as my wallet and ID. My phone. I need that damn bag back. “Do you think Ethan took it?” I bleat, following Maximus as he threads his way back through the crowd on the dancefloor toward the private booths.
“No. Ethan’s a slimy prick but he’s not a thief.”
“Is that how you refer to all your elite clientele?” I say cuttingly, but again, Maximus ignores my remark. Is he hard of hearing, or impervious to wit?
“We’ll check here first, then we’ll head to the office if necessary,” he says, yanking the curtain aside. “Someone will have handed it in.”
I take a deep breath before heading back into the booth where this whole nightmare began, wondering whether this interminable evening will ever end.
Fuck Zeke. Fuck Ethan. Fuck it all. I should never have come here.
4
Maximus
I have no idea what possessed me to ask a girl in my care to play with me. Flirting is like second nature to me, and I have no shortage of sweetbloods to torment and tantalize, so it’s not like I’m starved in any sense of the word. But there’s just something about Sabina which sets her apart from other women, something that drives me crazy. In fact, I haven’t felt this way since Caroline first barreled into my life.
Now there’s a terrifying thought.
After what happened to her, I swore never, ever to feel that way about any woman again. Ever. So maybe it’s not a bad thing that Sabina is so desperate to leave. Once we find her purse, that is.
I’m so caught up in my own thoughts that it takes me a moment to realize that Sabina is standing stock still, her lips slightly parted, her big, dark blue eyes round with shocked surprise. Glancing past her into the booth we’ve just entered, I see why.
It’s occupied.
Quick as a flash, I take in the entire scene: Nina, an established club regular, is grinding back up against Bentley, a vampire who stops by here whenever he’s in Tucson. Her skirt is hiked up around her waist and her eyes are closed, her head lolling back against his shoulder in ecstasy. Her bare breasts sport fresh welts—from a cane, perhaps, or maybe a crop—and Bentley’s skilled fingers are working frantically between her slightly spread thighs as she writhes and moans.
“Please, Sir,” she whimpers, reaching up to clutch at his head.
“Don’t touch me,” he barks, his fingers working faster as her hand falls back down to dangle limply at her side. “You know when—and not a second before.”
A ragged breath is her only response. With the hand not rubbing her pussy, Bentley winds a chunk of her dark hair around his f
ist and yanks her head back to expose her throat. I know exactly what’s going to happen next. I’ve seen it thousands of times. I’ve done it thousands of times. What’s imperative is that Sabina doesn’t see it.
A quick glance around is my saving grace. A rectangular, brightly beaded purse is tucked away in a dark corner.
“Sabina,” I whisper, praying that she will hear me but the others won’t. She turns to look at me and the naked, unashamed lust in her dark eyes jolts through my groin. “Leave quietly. I’ll be right out. We don’t want to disturb them.”
She hesitates, and I hope against hope that I’m not forced to reach inside her mind to nudge her once more. Just do it, I think. As loath as I am to compel her, no matter how good the reason, doing that is still better than having to wipe her mind. And far less risky. The musky-sweet smell of feminine arousal permeates my nostrils and I wonder whether it’s Nina or Sabina. Maybe both. I force the thought away.
“All right,” she breathes, and I thank the gods when she turns back towards the curtain and slips out.
Either Bentley and Nina haven’t yet noticed our intrusion or they simply don’t care, caught up as they are in the throes of raw, primal lust. I slink into the corner and retrieve the purse just as Nina cries out. She’s coming and Bentley is feeding, his fangs penetrating the soft skin of her throat as she humps his hand, her thighs trembling with the force of her climax.
Fuck, the mere sight is making me hungry. I wonder what Sabina tastes like. How she sounds when she’s on the brink. Does she whimper, or scream? Some women come silently, holding their breath, the only proof of their orgasm being the way they contract around your fingers or shaft. Others grunt like feral beasts. My cock is rigid, straining in my pants and I reach down to adjust it. As soon as Sabina’s out of here and I’ve finished my shift, I’ll have to find a pretty little regular sweetblood to screw. Shannon, perhaps, or Tania. Drinking blood from the tap tonight simply isn’t going to cut it. I need to lose myself in an armful of soft, female flesh. Drive this sudden uncontrollable lust out of my system.
I slip out of the booth with Nina’s cries still echoing around it. Sabina is standing just outside, her eyes like saucers, clutching my jacket around herself like a shield. Then she clocks what I’m holding.
“Oh thank god,” she says, rushing up to me and damn near yanking her purse out of my hands.
“You’re welcome,” I say, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.
But she’s not listening. She’s taken the phone out of her bag and is staring at the screen. Even in the dim, red glow of the club I can see the blood drain from her face. As flustered and turned on as she was moments ago, now she’s just one thing: terrified.
“Is something wrong?”
“Huh?” Dragging her eyes up to my face, she gives me the most fake smile I’ve seen in a century. “No, nothing. It’s fine.” Her gaze flits back down to the screen, then she clicks off the phone and stuffs it back into her purse. “Everything’s still here, thank goodness. Thank you for retrieving it for me.”
“You’re welcome.” It’s not your business, I tell myself firmly. She’s nobody to you. Actually, that’s not entirely true. She’s fast becoming somebody to me, and it’s for that exact reason that I need her to leave before my protective instinct ratchets any higher. “Are you sure you’re all right?” my voice says anyway. I just can’t fucking help myself.
“It’s… I’m fine. My ex sent me a text, that’s all. He’s just mad because we broke up recently.”
Leave it alone. No more questions. Escort her to the door and say goodbye. “Why did you break up?” Damn it.
Her big eyes narrow as she stares at me. “You’re very inquisitive.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” I stuff my hands into my suit pants, almost chewing off my own tongue to stop myself from interrogating her further. Who’s her ex? How recently did they break up? Why did they break up? What did the text message say, exactly? “Were you together long?”
She lets out a giggle, and I realize I said the last one out loud. Fuck. But then she responds. “Just a month. Not long at all.”
“Well, I’m sorry.” It’s half a lie. I’m not sorry at all that they broke up if he’s enough of a dick to be sending her nasty text messages. But losing someone can hurt, even if you know you’re better off without them. I’ve been around long enough to know that.
“Like I said, it’s fine.” She slips the strap of her purse over her shoulder and flicks her hair back in a signal meant to demonstrate how together she is. Even though she can’t fool me for a second, I play along.
“Ready to go?” I ask her and she nods. “Come on then.”
We wind our way through the writhing bodies on the dancefloor, up the staircase, and out through the coat check booth. The bar upstairs has emptied out considerably compared to earlier; it must be getting late. I’m walking behind Sabina, wondering whether she’s aware that people turn to look at her when she goes past them. She must be. Still, if that’s the case, she’s remarkably unaffected by it. Most attractive women are aware of their effect on people. And if there’s one thing I cannot stand, it’s arrogance.
Once we reach the doors leading outside, she comes to such an abrupt stop that I almost bump into her. “Well, Maximus,” she says softly, holding out a hand for me to shake. “It was nice meeting you. Will you be here tomorrow so I can return your coat?”
I take her hand and squeeze it a mite harder than I probably should. She winces and, once again, a jolt of lust shoots through my gut. I want to make her wince more. I want to take her back down into the club, chain her to the wall, or perhaps tie her over a spanking bench, and push her to the brink of agony over and over again until her inner thighs are slick and she’s begging for my cock. My teeth. I press the tip of my tongue against my incisor, feeling the sharp point. “Are you sure you don’t need me to walk you to your car? Where are you parked?”
“Just around the corner. Don’t worry. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself. And your duty of care to me ends here, doesn’t it?” she says with a sweet, slightly ironic smile.
In more ways than one. “I’ll be here tomorrow,” I say. I don’t care about the damn jacket and normally I’d tell her to keep it. In fact, I should, but for some reason, I really want to see her again tomorrow, even if it’s just for a minute.
What is wrong with me?
“Good. I’ll return this then.” Giving a little shiver, she extracts her hand from mine and wraps the coat tighter around herself. “It’s certainly cooled down since earlier.”
I just nod, suddenly desperate for her to go before I give in to any of the temptations which have been haunting me for the past hour or so.
“Drive safely,” I say. “And… hey. Don’t let your dumb ex get you down. He’s probably just being a dick because his feelings are hurt.”
A flicker of something crosses her expression but then again she visibly pulls herself together. “Thanks. And you’re probably right. He probably didn’t mean it.”
I watch her clack off down the street in those heels she obviously rarely wears, wondering what that last statement was all about. Mean what? Did he threaten her? The sudden protective rage which surges up in my chest at the thought takes me by surprise.
I glance at the sky, calculating how long I have left before I need to be home. Wondering where Sabina lives. The temptation to get into my own car and follow her is strong, but it’s too risky for several reasons. Number one, I’m still on duty and to a casual observer, I’ve spent far too much time with just one club guest as it is. Number two, I would be forced to lurk around outside her place unless or until she noticed me hovering and invited me in. Which would lead to number three—I would come off as creepier than fucking Ethan if she caught me loitering outside her home. And number four: no place to hide when the sun makes its inevitable appearance in just a few short hours’ time. I can’t know how Sabina lives—house or apartment, ba
sement or high up. But I can pretty much guarantee there’d be nowhere for me to safely spend the daylight hours.
Being a vampire is such a fucking drag sometimes.
Sabina’s shapely form disappears around the corner and I congratulate myself on my restraint as I head back into the club. I used to be such a hot-head, but I’ve mellowed over the last few centuries.
At least, I like to think so…
5
Sabina
Fucking, fucking Zeke. How very dare he? Tossing the ridiculous shoes into the backseat of my car, vowing once more never to wear them again, I turn on the ignition and set off on the—thankfully, fairly short—journey home, my thoughts tumbling over each other, wondering abstractedly whether this is what it feels like to be on speed.
His text message was short and to the point: I warned you never to go to Club Toxic.
What the hell is that even supposed to mean? I take a corner too fast and force myself to breathe deeply, to try and regain some control—at least until I get home. Is it meant to be a threat? A genuine warning? Or is he just trying to mess with me? How the fuck does he know where I was? Is he watching me, or having me watched? Did someone else spy on me for him?
My knuckles are white as I clutch the steering wheel of my ancient Explorer, my whole body trembling.
First that Ethan guy, and now this. It’s like the universe is conspiring against me. And the one nice thing to come out of it—meeting that devastatingly attractive Maximus—now feels tainted, somehow. Not to mention, I shouldn’t read too much into his apparent concern. As bouncer/dungeon monitor/whatever his job title, he gets paid to look after guests. Sure, he offered to walk me to my car, but even so. And yes, he asked me to play with him, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure that was a test to see whether I’d be dumb enough to enter a private booth with a virtual stranger twice in one evening.
Her Vampire Addiction (Midnight Doms Book 9) Page 3