by Sasha White
Arousal blended with the fear and adrenaline whipping through her.
With trembling fingers she undid the zipper at the back of her skirt and wiggled out of it.
Val held out his hand for the skirt. When she gave it to him his features tightened and she recognized the hard edge of arousal he was trying to hide. She glanced down at herself and was shocked to see just how good she looked. The black boned corset cinched her waist and pushed her breasts up to an impossibly high level. If she sneezed they’d pop out, and anyone looking at her knew it. The garter belt was a wide swath of stretch lace across her hips with the front and back extending lower on her thighs to reach the stockings. About two inches of pale bare flesh peeked out from between the top of the stockings and the bottom edge of the lace, drawing attention to the satin triangle covering her pussy. She looked like a pin-up model.
“I’m going to fuck you while you wear that,” Val growled before pulling the edges of her coat shut and cinching retying the belt at her waist. “Later.”
Pleasure warmed her all from the inside out and she didn’t even notice the cool air drifting up under the coat. Okay, she noticed it, but she certainly didn’t mind it.
Val tucked her skirt into a small storage bag on the side of the bike and turned to her. “Get on.”
Keeping her eyes locked on his steady gaze she accepted his hand, stepped up and swung a leg over the bike. She gasped when her bare skin hit the cold seat and his grin turned evil.
He fussed with her coat for a moment. At first she thought he was making sure her ass was covered for the ride, but a slight breeze and a flutter of hot fingertips across her exposed butt cheeks told her he was doing just the opposite. “Val! You’re going to get us arrested if I flash the whole world.”
“Not the whole world, babe.” He slipped a leg over the bike and settled down in front of her. “Just whoever’s directly behind us, and only if they’re paying attention.”
Val made quick work of putting his skullcap and helmet on before kick starting the engine. The Harley roared to life, shaking and vibrating beneath her. “Oh!”
Val twisted around and grinned at her. “I told you you’d like it. Now hang on.”
By the time he pulled the bike to a halt in front of a small brick building Samair’s fear was replaced by intense arousal and the thrill of some exhibitionism. Three cars had honked and flashed their lights in appreciation of her ass hanging out of her coat. The second car stayed with them for more than half of their drive.
When the giant vibrator between her legs finally shut off she relaxed against Val’s back for a minute, trying to catch her breath. He twisted around and helped her off before dismounting himself.
She’d readjusted her coat to make sure it covered everything and Val removed her helmet for her. When their eyes met again he was grinning like an idiot and she couldn’t help but laugh as well.
“I can’t believe I just did that.”
He wrapped her in his arms and hugged her. He pressed a small kiss next to her ear, sending another shiver through her body before he spoke. “Ride on a Harley, or enjoy it so much?”
“Any of it!” She laughed and cuddled against him for a minute. Reveling in the feel of his solid body and his arms around her. She wasn’t trembling anymore, but she felt weak and shaky, poised on the edge. She pushed out of his arms and stepped back before she climbed up his body and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her sex throbbed and the patch of satin between her legs would be no barrier.
“Okay, give me my skirt and I’ll slip it on real quick.” She looked away from the couple that walked past them, not wanting to draw any attention to herself with eye contact.
“Uh uh.”
Her head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
Val shook his head, lips twitching. “You’ll fit right in exactly as you are. You can even take the coat off once we’re inside if you want.” He grabbed her hand and let her away from the bike.
“Val,” she sputtered.
They turned a corner onto a busier street and Val kept walking. Samair ducked her head and tugged on his hand. When they reached the end of the building a set of steps led down, and Val gestured for her to lead the way. It was then that she realized not one person they’d passed had given her an odd look. In fact, nobody seemed to even notice her.
She wasn’t sure she liked that.
No, she didn’t like that at all. She wasn’t a chicken shit, and she wasn’t a wallflower. She was a sexy, kick-ass lingerie designer with a super sexy lover by her side. Energy stirred deep inside and a calm confidence settled over her. She could do this. She could do anything if she set her mind to it.
21
Samair reached the bottom stair and stood in font of the linebacker in a business suit stationed there. She met his eyes and flashed a naughty smile as his eyes ran over her from head to toe with appreciation before he looked over her shoulder at Val.
“Guests of Karl Dawson.” Val said from behind her. His voice was strong, his hand at her back solid.
The doorman checked his clipboard before holding the door open. “Welcome to the Dungeon, sir.”
Samair passed him and started down another set of stairs. These ones were a bit steeper, and difficult in her heels so she went slowly. The music got louder with each step and by the time she reached the bottom, and another linebacker, she was feeling sultry, seductive, and ready for anything.
“Master Dawson is along the back wall, sir. Second booth to the left of the bar,” said the linebacker as soon as Val stood next to her.
Val thanked him for his directions and steered her deeper into the cavernous room. Blue lights, low ceilings, and chains along the walls made it resemble a real dungeon. It was only Wednesday night, but the place was packed.
Packed with people dressed in leather, latex and silk. Some had masks on that brought Mardi Gras to mind, others wore less than her corset and coat. Val steered her through the crowd silently, letting her drink in her fill.
Everything looked so…erotic. Always a tactile person, Samair had to fist her hands at her sides to keep from reaching out to touch everything and everyone they passed. She wanted to get a closer look at the latex bodysuit. Or the contraption made of leather straps crisscrossed over one shirtless guy’s chest and back that blended into a leash held by the woman seated next to him.
Glad for Val’s guiding hand she followed him blindly while her head swiveled constantly taking in the whole experience.
When Val stopped in front of a circular booth occupied by a couple, it didn’t phase her that the aroused expression on the woman’s face insured there was some obvious fondling going on under the table. Instead the first thing Samair noticed was that the white dress she was wearing was completely see-thru and her nipples were painted or tattooed or something.
Then she noticed that both of the guy’s hands were on the tabletop and the woman was playing with herself, in full view of him. Putting on a show for him.
Val grinned and shook his head before speaking loudly. “Karl, this is Samair. Samair, my good friend Karl.”
Samair gazed at the man lounging in front of her. Blond curls and brown eyes did not make him look soft or innocent, despite the fact that he was dressed simply in a black T-shirt with no leather or studs in sight.
“Samair.” He held out his hand and she shook it as the exotic beauty he’d been watching edged her way out of the booth and walked away without a word.
Val urged her into the booth and slid in after her while she tried to ignore Karl’s sharp gaze. The men talked quietly until the waitress arrived and took their drink order. When Samair couldn’t stand it any more, she turned to the man next to her and looked him over.
He was beautiful.
Sharp cheekbones, straight nose, full lips. There was a small scar through his left eyebrow that only made him look better, and the edges of a tattoo that crept out from under his collar added to his bad boy appeal.
He turned his head and met he
r gaze head on. “So, you’re Val’s new plaything, huh? I can see why he likes you.”
The insulting flick of his gaze to her cleavage made it clear he thought she was nothing but a big set of tits.
“Karl,” Val growled.
“No, it’s okay, Val.” Samair smiled and put her hand on his thigh under the table. “If Karl has a problem with women there’s nothing I can do about it. If he has a problem with me, he needs to spit it out.”
* * *
Val didn’t bother to hide his smirk at Karl’s surprise. Samair was nobody’s fool.
He watched, body tense, as his friend and his lover locked gazes. Then, Karl leaned forward and kissed Samair on the cheek. “No problem with you, my dear.”
Samair’s hand tightened on Val’s thigh, and relief flowed through him. Karl’s opinion of women had never been real great, they were always just to easy for him. Being a divorce lawyer probably didn’t help him see the best in women, or relationships, either. But lately, his attitude toward women had really soured, and Val was glad to see that he was still able to see a good one when she was right in front of him. And Samair was a good one.
She flashed a bright smile at Karl and settled back in her seat. “Good. Then since this is your scene, can I pick your brain?”
He opened his hands, palms up. “Anything I can do to help make this fetish and fantasy show a success, I’m in for. Pick away.”
The waitress brought his beer, and he noticed Samair had only ordered a bottled water. He took a minute while the waitress flirted with Karl to check on Samair. “You doing okay?”
She turned her head and their lips almost touched. Her eyes went soft and she pressed a light kiss to his mouth. “I’m fine,” she said and rubbed her hand on his thigh.
“You don’t want something stronger to drink?” Christ, if she kept touching him like that he was going to be more than fine damn fast.
As if she read his mind, her hand crept up his thigh and her smiled turned devilish. “I don’t need alcohol to feel good when I’m with you. Especially after riding that monstrous vibrator.”
“I’d like to use a real vibrator on you.” The thought of having her laid out before him, open to whatever he wanted to do to bring her pleasure had his dick getting hard.
“Would you two like me to get a private room?” Karl’s light voice held an edge of dark interest as it cut through the sexual haze that had been descending.
It was his turn to leave it to Samair to answer. Was she interested in playing while they were there?
Her cheeks flushed and her fingers tightened on his thigh, but she shook her head. “A threesome with two men is on my list of fantasies—”
Val’s gaze sharpened. “Two men, hmm?”
“Oh yeah,” she nodded. “I think I’d enjoy being the center of attention, of being touched and teased, and overwhelmed with the sensation of two men wanting me.” Heat swamped Samair’s insides and she squeezed her thighs together. “But first…the reason we’re here.”
She turned to Karl. “Where do people buy this stuff? I mean, I’ve been in a lot of lingerie stores and a few of the local sex stores, but I’ve never seen anything like…well, like that.” She nodded at a woman that was approaching their table, eyes locked on Karl like a heat-seeking missile. She had long blonde hair that fell in curls down her back, and was wearing a few shiny pieces of black PVC held over her breasts, crotch and ass by crisscrossing laces everywhere.
She had a nice body but the outfit was too over the top for his taste. Karl must’ve agreed because when he saw her coming he met her gaze, gave one shake of his head and she stopped dead. Val could see the indecision on her face, should she push her luck, or leave him be? She must’ve had some sense of self-preservation because her lips tightened and she turned away.
“Wow,” Samair chuckled. “What are you, a god or something?”
Val held back a chuckle of his own, he was completely content to sit back, nurse his beer, and watch the two of them get to know each other. He wondered how Karl would explain his magic with women to a woman.
With a twist and a quick wiggle Samair shucked her coat and sat between the two men in her corset, garter and stockings. She didn’t push for an answer from Karl when he just shrugged and grinned, instead she started to point out outfits, ask questions and listen to Karl’s explanations. The whole time she kept her hand on Val’s thigh, stroking her thumb back and forth.
At one point Karl waved another girl over and had her turn around so Samair could check something out on the dress. She leaned across his lap to reach the girl’s dress and nuzzled her breasts against his semi-hard cock. When she gave an extra wiggle and press into him on purpose, he smacked her exposed ass sharply and they all laughed.
She was truly amazing. A lady, a seductress, a vixen, and completely open. There was no wondering what she was thinking or any head games with her. He loved it, and he could see that Karl responded well to it, too.
Val eyed Samair as she gestured over her body, trying to get them to visualize some outfit thing. She’d said two men was one of her fantasies, and he’d promised to fulfill her fantasies. He glanced at Karl thoughtfully.
The lights dimmed even more and the music lowered. “Time for the second show,” Karl announced.
Samair looked blank. “Show?”
“Wednesday nights are show night here at the Dungeon. Dominants put on demonstrations of their skills.”
Karl explained that the skills included everything from spanking to bondage to knife or wax play.
“Knife play?” She turned to Val. “Just so you know, knives will never play a part in any of my fantasies.”
He laughed and shook his head. “No arguments here.”
They turned their attention to the stage. A well-built guy wearing only a pair of tight black shorts was getting strapped onto an X cross. The statuesque woman to the side of him picked up a microphone.
“For some people there is a very thin line between pleasure and pain. It takes open communication, trust, and a deft touch to make sure that your submissive gets what they need from you. Tonight I’d like to show you how you can use your basic household clothespins to get an idea of your sub’s sensitivity.” She stepped back and put the microphone down. Sexy saxophone music swelled gently and she began to work on her man.
Instead of watching the show, Val watched Samair’s reaction to it. She’d tensed up, her thumb had stopped stroking him, and she was leaning forward intently.
“Oh my God.” The color drained from her cheeks and she slumped back against the booth.
He met Karl’s curious gaze before speaking. “What’s wrong, Samair?”
“I know him. The guy on the cross, I know him.” She looked stunned. “I can’t believe it.”
“You’d be amazed at how many people are into different types of kinks,” Karl said softly. “Like everything else in the world, it takes all types.”
“Samair?” Concern swelled inside Val. She looked more than stunned. She looked…hurt. “Who is it?”
She turned her head and met his gaze. “My brother.”
22
Samair didn’t sleep much that night. Shortly into the clothespin demonstration it had become obvious that Brett was getting a hard-on in his shorts, and that had just been too much information for her to handle. She’d only had to look at Val and he’d read her mind.
“Let’s get out of here,” he’d said and slid out of the booth.
Surprisingly, Karl had thrown some cash on the table and left with them. All three were silent during the short walk to Val’s bike. When they got there, Samair noticed another big Harley parked next to it, this one red and chrome. Karl had beaten them to the bar, and she hadn’t even noticed the other Harley there when they’d parked.
Mind you, Val had kept her pretty distracted by not giving her skirt back. Thank God her brother hadn’t seen her in there. She didn’t think she could’ve dealt with that.
While Val helped her o
nto the bike and fitted the helmet on her head, Karl pulled his from a small side storage pouch like the one Val had on his bike, before turning back to say good-bye. “It was nice meeting you, Samair. Take it easy.”
The men nodded to each other and climbed onto their bikes. Despite the fact that her mind was millions of miles away, trying to bury the sight of her younger brother strapped to a bondage cross, she’d noticed that Val and Karl had an ease between them that spoke of years in a close relationship. Almost like brothers.
The ride back to her place hadn’t been nearly as thrilling as the ride to the club, and when they got back to her place, he’d walked her to her door, plastered her against it with his body and kissed her until she was incoherent.
Then he’d walked away.
“What?” she’d sputtered at his back.
“I think you’ve had enough excitement for one night, babe,” he said from the stairwell five feet away. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
At first she’d been stunned, but once she was inside she realized he was smarter than her. She’d have happily buried all thoughts in mindless sex, but he’d known that wasn’t what she’d really needed. And that only added to her confusion.
She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know her that well.
Sleep had been elusive. After tossing and turning for an hour she was up and pacing the small apartment, mentally ranting about people pretending to be someone they’re not.
Lisa, Kevin, Brett. Shit, even she’d been pretending for a while.
No, she hadn’t been pretending—she’d been denying. There was a difference.
Lisa and Kevin had deceived her, intentionally. Rosa had treated her like crap, and had deliberately claimed Samair’s work as her own with that journalist. They’d been pretenders, not her.
What category did Brett fall into?
He was the youngest in the family. The only boy and the one that should’ve been the wild child. But no—he’d been a good student and an even better athlete. They’d been close when they were growing up, Brett hadn’t cared that Samair was always in trouble.