Traded for Love

by Michelle Hughes

  She seemed taken aback, nevertheless, she squeezed me tight. “It certainly seems interesting.”

  “You will obey me, won't you, my little one?” I watched as her eyes widened and her breath hitched. I hadn't called her by that pet name since just before the baby was born.

  She looked up at me with desperation in her eyes. The poor thing was aching for love, a love I was pretending to shower on her. I stroked her temples, then ran my fingers through her hair.

  Her eyes closed as she absorbed the gentle touch. “I'll go. I want to please you.”

  “I knew you would. You're a good girl.” I took her mouth in an insistent kiss. The idea of reuniting with Chastity was enthralling. Every part of me woke up with desire and want. If Kim hadn't appeared at the mouth of the path, I might have tried to ease the ache by using Emily to my heart's delight right there in the arboretum.

  “Whoa! Didn't mean to interrupt!” Kim ejected.

  We broke the kiss and Emily erupted in giggles. “You didn't,” she said with a big grin.

  “It's nothing we can't finish later,” I remarked, threading my fingers with my wife's.

  “The intermission is over,” Kim said, turning and heading back toward the lit courtyard in front of the theater.

  I yanked Emily back as she tried to walk forward, and pulled her into my arms again. “We will finish this, won't we?” I grinned and ran a hand down the front of her dress, grazing her hard nipples through the fabric.

  She inhaled sharply, her whole body growing warm. “Yes, Master.”

  We hooked arms and walked back to the theater.

  The members of our party were all seated, except for one.

  “Where's Dante?” Emily asked.

  “I don't know,” Kim answered, craning her neck so she could see the aisle better. “Maybe he went to the bathroom.

  Suddenly the lights came up and a spotlight illuminated Dante. “Thanks for coming tonight everyone.”

  There was light applause. Our eyebrows were officially raised.

  “I'd like to call Ms. Kim Yates up to the stage, please,” Dante said into the mic.

  Kim looked terrified, but stood and walked to the front, up the stage steps and across to the center.

  “Say hi,” he said to Kim, aiming the mic head up to her face.

  “Um. Hi.” She gave him a questioning glance. “What are you doing?”

  “Kim, I love you. I think you know that. One of the reasons I brought you here was to tell everybody how much I love you.”

  The crowd whooped and whistled. Kim's face flushed bright red. “I also want to ask you … ” He dropped to one knee and brought a ring box around in front of him. “I wanted to ask you if you'll be my wife.”

  Kim covered her gaping mouth with her hand. Tears glistened in her eyes as she speechlessly nodded.

  We were flabbergasted. Neither Emily nor I had suspected that Dante was ready to make this kind of commitment. Blown away we stood with the rest of the crowd as everyone applauded.

  Kim and Dante shared a long kiss and broke it with big smiles on their faces. Holding hands, they left the stage together.

  I laughed at the sentimentality of it all. Dante was sure signing up to be with one spitfire of a woman. She wouldn't take any of his shit. She would rule him.

  I turned to my subservient, glowing wife, and saw her beaming face and the tears running down her face. I had it much better than Dante. This woman would do anything for me.

  I'd make sure of it.

  (Drake)

  I stepped out of the shower and walked into my bedroom. Once I'd dried off, I threw my towel across a nearby chair.

  Just as I began looking through my underwear drawer, my bedroom door opened. My back was turned but it could only be one person.

  “Are you ready yet?” Chastity asked.

  “Does it look like I'm ready?” I asked with a grin, giving my bare ass a little shake.

  She laughed. “So charming.” She sat on the edge of the bed. I stepped into a pair of boxer-briefs.

  Once I turned, I stopped dead in my tracks to take in the sight of her.

  She wore a short leather skirt, black leather bustier and black heels with red outsoles. “You … look nice.”

  Her eyebrow rose and her red lips spread into a smile. “You look hard.” Her eyes dropped to my crotch.

  “I can't exactly help it.” I averted my gaze and tried to concentrate on dressing.

  “It's okay to like what you see, you know?” Her voice was rich and velvety.

  “Not really.” I pulled out my leather pants and a black t-shirt.

  “Why not?”

  “Because the minute I start lusting after you … it makes me want things that can never be mine.” I pulled on my clothes. “I thought you'd have guessed that by now.”

  I couldn't avoid looking at her as I went to my closet for my belt.

  “You can have me,” she said, leaning back on the bedspread. She casually spread her legs so I got a view of her pussy.

  Now my erection was painful. “I want to. Believe me … ” My eyes were fixated on the pink bud between her legs. I realized I was holding my belt as though I were ready to strike it. I could have, too, and she would have loved it.

  “But?” she asked, interrupting my train of thought.

  I swallowed hard and steadied myself. “But it wouldn't mean anything.”

  “Does it always have to mean something?” she asked, setting a hand on her hip. “You do fuck awfully well, you know.” She stroked the inside of her golden thigh invitingly. “You know all my buttons. You know just how to make me come.”

  It was moments like this that she was most dangerous. She was magnetic. I knew if I allowed myself to be drawn in by her seduction, I'd get lost in the meaningless sex that might follow.

  “Please stop teasing me. You know I don't want to. Not really. Anyway, you don't need me to make you come,” I pointed out. “You've got that idiot panting for you.”

  “That's right. If my messages are correct, he's found another trade, and is bringing her tonight.” She crossed her legs, sparing me some temptation.

  “Great, just what I needed.” I rolled my eyes. “I wonder who he suckered into it.” I tsked. “Oh well. At least I'll have a new drinking buddy for the night.” I buckled my belt and straightened myself up.

  “Apparently, it's his wife.”

  My brows rose. “His wife? Must have been a shock for her to find out that he frequented a swinger's club.” I headed for the door and Chastity stood. I held the door open for her and let her go first.

  “Maybe you can ask her while you drink,” she teased.

  “Maybe I will!” I said happily.

  We arrived a little late because of traffic. Such were the risks of leaving the house late on a Friday night. New York never slept, and the neighborhood where the bakery stood was no exception to that rule.

  I nodded to Oscar as we took the staircase to the basement levels. Rock already had the place running by the time we walked in. Several patrons raised their glasses to us and I nodded back.

  Chastity wandered to the bar and I was glad to get some space. I knew that once Doe came in, he'd be on her like white on rice. I didn't want to be around when that happened.

  I took a table close to the stage and leaned back to look at the crowd. It was a little sparse, but people were enjoying each other. Clubs of that nature were often labeled as gross because of what happened behind closed doors, but in reality, it was just a community of people who enjoyed having fun.

  When Chastity received her drink and took a seat at her own table, I walked up to the bar to order for myself. “I'll have a Vodka-sour, please, Rock.”

  He smiled. “Right away.” As he expertly mixing my drink, I picked at the counter absentmindedly. “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “Hm? No, not really.”

  “We've been friends for a while. I can tell when something is bothering you.” Rock slid the drink over to me.
<
br />   “Someone I don't like is coming in tonight.”

  “Ah. Would that be Whiskey-sour?”

  “I don't know what he orders. He's an asshole about ye' high,” I said, indicating Doe's height. “He's got a stupid smirk on his face and likes to treat women like objects.”

  “Yup. Whiskey-sour. A pretty girl with two different-colored eyes usually orders it for him. She always gets a Tom Collins with three cherries.”

  “Yeah. That's Julia.” I took my second shot.

  “Well, it doesn't look like she's with him tonight,” Rock said, drying the first in a line of wet glasses.

  I turned to look at the door and my jaw just about hit the floor. “Two more shots, Rock.”

  Emily. Why was Emily here? She couldn't be his wife. She just couldn't!

  Rock served me the next two shots and I drank them so fast my head just about spun.

  “Something wrong?” the puzzled bartender asked.

  “Um. No. Not really.” I tried to get a peak of her from the corner of my eye to confirm— Yup! Fucking her! “Shit, she's going to recognize me,” I mumbled.

  “What was that?”

  “Nope. Nothing,” I replied, standing bolt upright. “I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'll be back later.”

  “I'll have the bottle waiting,” Rock said, setting the Tequila back on the shelf.

  “There's no way around it. He's going to want to trade her,” I thought out loud. “Well. I'd better just face it.”

  Chastity was half way across the room before I could take a step. She wanted this guy bad. I'd yet to figure out why, besides that he might be an interesting lay.

  As I approached, I saw the change in Emily's face. Her features moved through the stages of indifference to surprise to embarrassment and back again. Her glance darted between me and Chastity. The poor thing had been ambushed, that much was clear.

  “I believe we've met before,” Chastity said sweetly, holding out her hand for Emily.

  “Met before?” Doe asked.

  Oh this is just too good, I thought, amused that Doe was the only one who was left in the dark. Serves him right!

  “I came to the bakery once.” Emily smiled, but I could tell she was flustered behind the confines of her mask.

  My gaze roved over her simple, tight black dress. Her red heels were tasteful yet sexy. I couldn't understand how Doe could be stupid enough to give up sleeping with this woman to sleep with Chastity. It's not that Chastity wasn't great, but she didn't love Doe. In my opinion, sex was always better if your partner loved you.

  I stepped up beside Chastity. “We run this fun little club in the off hours,” I explained, trying to keep the subject light.

  “I've never been here before,” Doe said, stressing the never.

  “Well, welcome, sir!” I exclaimed. “Would you like a drink? Perhaps a whiskey-sour?”

  His face reddened.

  “He's good. He knew your favorite drink,” Emily said with a grin.

  “A whiskey-sour would be great,” he said. No amount of pretend surprise could canvas his irritation. I loved watching him squirm. And he knew I loved it. If he didn't want Chastity so badly, I'm sure he'd have gotten physical with me.

  “Why don't you walk with me to the bar and we'll order it,” Chastity said musically.

  “Emily, why don't you get yourself something with this gentleman here,” Doe suggested.

  “I'd be happy to have a drink with you,” I said with a small smile.

  She looked uncomfortable as hell, but when I offered her my arm she took it.

  “Okay, what the fuck is going on here?” she whispered to me as we walked to the far side of the bar.

  “It's exactly what I said before. We run a—”

  “A swinger's club!?” she hissed. “You? You seemed like such a nice guy!”

  “I'm still a nice guy.” I offered her a seat at a stool and she took it.

  “I never expected you'd be here. And her,” she nodded her head in Chastity and Doe's direction. “I really didn't expect her to be here.”

  “We all have our darker side, despite appearances.”

  “And you? Do you have a dark side?” Her eyes were fixed on mine and they threatened to swallow me whole.

  “I'm no exception to the rule, I'm afraid.” I chewed on my lip. “What about you? You're here. You're interested in exploring a little, right? Or maybe he talked you into this.”

  “He convinced me.”

  “Figures.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh.” I caught myself before I could spill that this wasn't his first time at the club. It wasn't my business to reveal Doe's lies, as much as I hated him. “He just kind of looks like an asshole.”

  Emily burst into giggles. It was contagious. Her laugh was so genuine—never mind that it was because her husband was a jerk.

  “So, you're telling me I shouldn't be here?”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “Not—exactly. You just didn't seem like the type who—”

  (Emily)

  “—wants to fuck strangers?” I interrupted.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  I was much more at ease with him than I could have imagined. When Jack and I had pulled up to Savage Sweets, I'd almost shit myself. At first I thought this was some kind of game, that he'd found out I'd been there before and was going to confront me with questions. When he asked what was wrong, I dismissed it.

  It'd just been a strange—check that—a shocking coincidence.

  Then the double whammy: not only that was there a sex club underneath the bakery but that Drake and that woman were here, too. I thought I was done being freaked out, only to feel fresh surprise when finding out that Drake ran the place. When I'd met him, I had not pictured him as the type to want to … trade.

  “I'm not sure how adventurous I am. I guess I'm more likely to do things once I've been encouraged,” I said.

  The bartender came by and we ordered drinks. He gave me a sidelong glance when I ordered a virgin drink.

  “Don't drink?” Drake asked.

  “Not really.”

  “No problem. I prefer my women sober anyway.” And then I realized what I said. “Not that I expect … Shit.” He buried his face in his palm.

  “It's okay. I think I know what you meant.” I sipped my drink. “Maybe.”

  His cheeks colored, which for some reason looked adorable on a man. I peeked over his shoulder. Jack and Chastity were still talking. A mixture of jealousy and sadness stabbed me right in the chest. I forced myself to look away.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “Your girlfriend seems to like Jack.”

  His eyes swept the room and over to them. “Looks like it.”

  My eyes stung and I fought a tear that threatened to fall. “I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm reacting like this.”

  “You're upset.” He passed me the napkin from under his cup. “I gather that you didn't want to come.”

  I took the napkin and dabbed my eyes. “I did. No. It's just—”

  Drake leaned forward and spoke quietly, “Why don't you tell him you want to go home? Nobody's forcing you to be here. Surely he isn't.”

  I looked into my drink. “No. I came because it seemed like it would make him happy.”

  “But you clearly don't like it. Why don't you stand up for yourself?”

  “I want to please him. I'm … ”

  “You're not a sub to that asshole, are you?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Seriously?” He swallowed hard. “You're into that?”

  How could I explain it to him? He obviously thought I was disgusting, and that upset me just as much as seeing Jack with another woman. “As you said … everyone has their dark side.”

  “Wow.” Drake sat back in his chair.

  “I know what you must think of me,” I began.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah? What must I think of you? Go ahead and tell me.”

  Sta
rtled, I brought my gaze up to him. “You think I'm a slut, right? Because I like being told what to do.”

  One of his thick eyebrows ascended his forehead. “Anything else?”

  “You think that I don't know how to stand up for myself because I'm giving him what he wants.”

  He tipped his chin. “Nope. None of that.”

  “Really?”

  “It just so happens, Emily, that I'm a Dom.”

  I was sure my entire face turned red, because I felt the heat in my cheeks. “You?”

  “That's right. I know that not all subs are cut from the same cloth or in the same way. The Dom/sub lifestyle is not a cut-and-dry thing. Every person is different.” He propped his foot on the lower rung of my stool. “Let me ask you this: what is a slut?”

  “Uh. I guess, a person who has sex with lots of people or likes really sexual things?”

  “A person who has sex with lots of people is just a person who has sex with lots of people. As long as someone isn't violating a promise they intend to keep, their promiscuity is not negative or wrong. And people who like sexual things? That's everybody. Even the most puritanical religious figure likes sex.”

  “You could say it's somebody who likes to show a lot of skin,” I reasoned.

  “Ever been to a beach? Is every woman who chooses a bikini over a one-piece a “slut”? What about guys in speedos? Are they sluts?”

  I shook my head.

  “I hate that word. People use it as a derogatory term for what they're afraid to be themselves.”

  I swirled my finger in my drink. “Which is?”

  “Real.” He leaned against the bar. “They've been told all their lives that sex is bad and wrong and dangerous. Who they really want to be—what they really want to be—is exactly how they were created to be. We're meant to fuck, Emily. We all want to reproduce. Our instinct tells us to have lots of sex to further the species, and yet people dissect it and analyze it as if it's a disease, something to evolve past. We're not made to be monogamous creatures, we choose it, even though it goes against our natures. Some people call that civilization or society, but in reality, it's the true definition of bondage.”

  I interrupted his lecture. “But control is what separates us from animals, isn't it?”

  His eyes met mine. “When you let go of what everyone tells you about your sexuality, you learn that we're all animals. We may be higher-thinking animals, but we're no different than the rest of the creatures that walk this Earth.”