Heat Up the Night

by Skylar Kade

  She soaked in his silent support and stared out the big picture window at the Las Vegas lights. They seemed so distant from her, and so did everything they reminded her of—family, work, the path she walked in choosing to stay at home with her mother.

  She was so damn tired of it all. Twenty-seven years putting the happiness of everyone else first, and the first time she chose to do something just for her, she couldn’t even enjoy it.

  Though she did find it ironic that the most selfish thing she did after years of serving her family was serving a man like Keilor. Only…that brought her such joy, where the rest of her duties brought only weariness.

  Behind her, Keilor didn’t move. His warm breaths blew across her bare shoulder, calm and patient. She listened to him, matching her racing heart to the cadence of his inhale-pause-exhale-pause.

  Then, warm and safe and a little calmer, she continued. “Tears were not allowed in my house, growing up.” Still no reaction from him. While she wanted to believe words and history wouldn’t drive him away, she wasn’t quite there. In fact, his calm demeanor was starting to piss her off a bit. “We couldn’t, not in front of my father. My mom would come into my room and cry, which didn’t make much sense until he got less cautious about when and where he hit her. Once he stopped hiding it behind closed doors, it all made sense. There, are you happy? Now you know.” The memories had her all worked up until Keilor’s arms were more suffocating than comforting.

  She pushed at him, but he didn’t release her. Tears burned at her eyes.

  “You can always cry on me, firebird.”

  The sentence echoed through the room, resonating in her head in time to her heartbeat until she could make sense of what he actually said and feel the sincerity of his words resonating through her body.

  Anger fled and she sank against his warm torso. Keilor turned her in his arms, tucking her against his chest once more. Still, he said nothing.

  His simple words looped through her brain until they’d seared a path in her psyche. He hadn’t run. No, instead of leaving her holding all her baggage, he’d helped her carry it down the road, just like he’d been doing since their first night together—seeing a need in her and doing everything in his power to fulfill it.

  She tightened her arms around his neck, absorbing his strength.

  Keilor started in a broken glass voice, then swallowed and cleared his throat. “I would never, ever, strike you in anger. I would die before betraying your trust.”

  Hope filled all the empty, bitter places she’d cordoned off in her heart. In the quiet of night, the planes of his face lit only by the far-off city lights, she turned a blind eye as Keilor lay gentle siege to her well-worn defenses.

  Chapter 8

  “You’re seeing a man, aren’t you?” Amelia Douglas put her decades of guilt-invoking practice into those six little words.

  Tovia winced, then straightened. She was not ashamed of her budding relationship with Keilor, and she knew—given how much time they’d been spending together in the past two weeks— she’d need to have this out with her mother sooner rather than later.

  “Yes.” No guilt, no excuses, just the truth. Since that night at the club, she’d seen Keilor as much as their schedules allowed, falling asleep with him every night and waking in his bed every morning. For once, she was glad she worked the mid-shift at the casino, even if the late night crowd tipped more generously.

  They’d only made it back to Apogee twice, but he’d used much of their time together outside the club to teach her about power exchange, how the sub really holds all the cards, how a good Dom would be able to read her like a book—like Master Keilor was already starting to. She’d feared following her mother’s footsteps and letting a man eclipse her, but her budding relationship was the exact opposite. He gave her power, confidence…respect.

  He’d introduced her to incredible pleasure, a measure of pain, and damned if she took a breath without thinking of him. She hadn’t expected a Dominant—any man, really—to be so tender or attuned to her needs.

  Her heart warmed and a little smile worked free of the stoic front she’d wanted to present to her mother.

  “You…you’re in love with him! Tovia, have I taught you nothing?”

  Tovia looked at her mother. Really looked. Amelia Douglas had retained her youthful beauty, could have had her pick of men after Tovia’s father left. She skimmed their house with fresh eyes, noting everything in its place, her mother’s collection of meticulously arranged exotic butterflies behind glass, the knitting basket next to the couch. Her mother’s routine neatness had always brought her a measure of comfort.

  But after her wonderful nights with Keilor, her childhood home only reflected emptiness, echoing around the antiseptic order her mother demanded. How lonely.

  Two futures unfurled in front of her. The still monochrome of her mother’s preferred path lured her with its quiet predictability. The other beckoned with light and sound, gaudy as the Vegas Strip and as full of risk as a poker game. She saw happy years and terrible arguments and children with Keilor’s laughing hazel eyes, cooking with him on Sunday mornings. The path diverged in places, avenues leading to heartbreak, but the sheer number of happy outcomes stole her breath.

  How could she choose anything else?

  “Yes, Mother, I do love him. God help me, but I do.” She ached to find Keilor in the kitchen of Parthenon and shout her love through the kitchen chaos. But she would play her cards close to her chest for now. Honesty had a time and a place. As much as Keilor valued the truth, Tovia didn’t think she could deal with his rejection, no matter how kindly he would let her down.

  “But darling, you know how men are!” Her mother’s voice jumped an octave and she started wringing her hands. “He will use you and take and take and—”

  “Amelia! Stop it.” She’d had decades of her mother’s assertions about men. While Keilor surely had flaws, even if she hadn’t seen them yet, he’d ripped off her blinders. “Dad was an asshole.” Her mother flinched, and Tovia almost stopped, but the words had been building up for so long she couldn’t stem the flow at this point. “And just because he was an awful excuse for a human being doesn’t mean everything with a penis should be blamed for his failings.”

  Her mother’s eyes reddened but no tears fell. Tovia knew they probably wouldn’t. She softened her voice. “I wish every day you hadn’t gone through that kind of marriage. But I’m not going to use that as an excuse any longer. I want to live my own life. Make my own mistakes. And yes, I might get hurt, but do you remember what you told me when you were teaching me to ride my bike?”

  It had been their first summer without her father around. Her mom had been pregnant with Rachel, as big as a house. But she still waddled alongside Tovia’s bike as she pedaled down the hot pavement outside their little apartment complex.

  Amelia sank onto the old, soft couch they’d had since that very apartment. Its colors had faded. Her mother looked right at home on it.

  “I didn’t want you riding your bike without the training wheels.” She fiddled with her hands, twisting the wedding band she’d never removed. “I told you if you fell, you’d get scraped up.”

  Tovia couldn’t stand the distance between them. She sat next to her mother on the couch where her bright yellow sweater looked so out of place. “And I told you I just wouldn’t fall.” She laughed, remembering everything about that day. The grass outside their apartment had crinkled and browned in the summer drought. She’d reveled in every smile her mother gave her even as she felt guilty for not missing her father one bit. And she talked nonstop about the baby sister she was soon going to have. Every day, she’d promised her mother she would take care of them both, and she had.

  Problem was, at some point she’d stopped living her own life. Enough was enough. “The first time I fell, you said ‘I told you so,’ kissed my scrape, and made me go ride again.”

  Her mother didn’t respond. She sat, shoulders shaking, until Tovia sighed and ro
se. She kissed her mom on the forehead as Amelia stared into the distance, then grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She had another couple hours before Keilor would be off work. She’d head to the library and wait for him—anywhere but here.

  She locked the door behind her, wondering when her mother would forgive her.

  Chapter 9

  When Keilor finally got out of the kitchen and checked his phone, he had one text. Can you meet me at the library?

  He sped up, winding through the slot machines and poker tables and tipsy tourists, then jogging over to the employee parking lot. Once in his car, he pushed the speed limit, cursing at every red light and each driver cutting across lanes to catch a turn and counting down the miles separating him from his woman.

  Last week, he and Tovia had taken a meandering late night drive through the city. They’d listened to music and talked about everything and nothing. She opened up in the dark, revealing more about herself than she seemed willing to do in the daytime.

  They’d driven by “her library,” and she’d explained how it had always been her escape after school or when her parents’ fighting had been too much to handle. His heart fractured at the vision of a young Tovia trudging between home and the library in the evenings, finding solace only in the quiet escape of her books.

  He screeched to a halt outside the doors and headed inside. She sat in one of the plush chairs in the back corner, flipping through a magazine. As he neared, she looked up, a smile breaking across her face. A deep sigh of relief fled his chest. Without words, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight, trying to show her how much he cared for her.

  Loved her, even.

  He rolled the idea around in his mind, trying it out. It settled in, a perfect fit, like he wasn’t complete without it. Keilor squeezed her tighter. “What do you need, baby?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes damp at the edges. “I need to forget, Sir,” she whispered.

  Oh yes, he could oblige. And whatever had gone wrong in her day, she’d tell him later. Just like he’d wait for a better moment to tell her how he really felt. Right now, he needed to focus all his attention on her. “Did you drive over?”

  Bending down to grab her purse, she shook her head. “Walked. Needed to clear my head.”

  Tucking her under his arm, he guided her out of the library then got her settled in the passenger seat of his Jeep, giving her a long, hungry kiss before closing her door.

  The tight lines of her jaw relaxed once he started the engine. Good. She’d blossomed over the past two weeks, becoming less reserved, at least around him. Every smile was like a jolt to his heart, and he’d been getting plenty of those lately. They’d played and talked so much he almost couldn’t remember not having her in his life. He never wanted to go back to that point.

  He tore away from the building, making a beeline for Apogee. It wouldn’t be staffed during the week, but he had a key. Being an elite member had its perks.

  He pulled into the empty parking lot, bathed in the dim moonlight. Though they hadn’t spoken, anticipation had built in the car.

  “Do you trust me?”

  She reached for his hand. “Yes, Sir.”

  The touch warmed him to his soul. “Good. I will push your limits tonight. You need it.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “For this, I’m going to give you a special safeword. If you say casino I will slow down and we’ll talk about what I’m doing, but it won’t end the evening.”

  Her fingers clenched around his hand. “Oh…okay, Sir. Casino.” She swallowed and he watched her throat bob up and down, remembered how she’d knelt before him the night before and taken him into her mouth, sucking and licking him until he came all over her tongue.

  Fuck. He went hard, and his chef’s pants hid nothing. Not that he wanted to conceal his arousal from her, but he’d give anything for the added pressure of a constraining zipper. Control, Keilor. It had been his hardest—yet most rewarding—lesson as a Dominant. “Until I tell you otherwise, you may not speak unless to say ‘yes, Sir’ or ‘no, Sir’ or ‘thank, you Sir’ or ‘casino’. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Watching her plump lips curl around those words made him want to fuck protocol and control and bend her over the backseat of his Jeep, slip into her tight pussy and make them both scream into the night. But she looked at him, eyes shining with trust and need, and he could never do that, not when he’d promised to siphon off some of the weight she carried on her shoulders. Not when she needed Keilor the Dominant, not just the man.

  Keilor exited and went around the car to open Tovia’s door and unbuckle her. With a hand on her shoulder, he guided her from the car and closed the door behind her. “Stay there.”

  Blocking her vision with the open back seat door, Keilor retrieved a collar from the minimalist toy bag he always kept on hand. Approaching her with the collar like he would a scared stray, he said, “To remind you that you are mine.”

  A shiver worked through her body and her nipples tightened enough to make themselves visible through her sweater. He buckled the brown leather around her neck, loving the way it made her skin look delicious and creamy. Once on, Tovia breathed deeply and shut her eyes.

  He grabbed a fistful of her wild red hair and yanked until she looked straight at him. “No hiding tonight, firebird. Eyes on me, okay?”

  Her tongue flicked out across her lower lip. “Yes, Sir.”

  Damnit, he couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his arms around her back and plundered her mouth. Her tongue thrust and parried with his. She was no wilting flower, no limpid submissive, and he wouldn’t have her any other way.

  When he pulled away, her pupils were blown, large as dinner plates. The lines of strain that had bracketed her mouth at the library had softened. Good.

  Keilor backed toward the Jeep, not taking his eyes off her. She stood in her casual day-off clothes, a flouncy skirt hitting her knees and a sweater that skimmed the dips and curves she maintained through a religious workout schedule. A few nights ago, she’d confessed that exercise gave her some relief from daily stress, but only a fraction of what he provided for her.

  Keilor was surprised his chest hadn’t exploded, Alien-style, from pride.

  “Strip.”

  Her green eyes widened and she did a double take around the parking lot of Apogee. No lights for at least a mile. No other cars. Her fists clenched by her sides, then loosened. Myriad emotions played over her face until she gave herself a little nod then, slowly, reached for her hem.

  As a Dom, he’d had submissives strip for him. Since moving to Vegas, he’d seen his fair share of professional dancers, experts at the striptease.

  None were as arousing as Tovia’s hesitant reveal. Her sweater inched up to reveal a taut stomach and the navel piercing that had entranced him from the start, a hidden slice of rebellion for his otherwise predictable woman. Well, outside the times she let herself go and submitted to him.

  The hemline rose to expose her gorgeous breasts, the left with a cluster of little brown freckles next to her nipple. Knowing her body’s little idiosyncrasies was hotter than any so-called perfection he’d ever seen. The deep purple bra lifted her breasts in offering, begging for his mouth and fingers.

  Not yet.

  She folded her sweater, ever neat, and set it on the passenger’s side seat. She held fast to the door and reached for the ankle strap of her wedge heels.

  “Leave those on.” His voice was gravel-rough, but he couldn’t help it if the mere sight of her made his throat go dry.

  With a sharp nod, she hooked her fingers underneath the simple waistband of her skirt and pulled it down, exposing another pair of those little lace boy shorts he loved so much. He barely contained himself until she’d folded her skirt, then he threw his toy bag over his shoulder and hauled her into his arms.

  He needed her like he needed to breathe. When had she become so essential to his happiness? After learning more about her
father, her trust issues weren’t surprising. The amount she’d bent, let him in, was an honor. He’d vowed patience, would simply keep showing her how much he cared without saying he loved her outright. That step could be too much for her, and the last thing he wanted was to scare her off.

  With one hand, he entered the passcode to unlock the front door of Apogee and carried her over the entryway, his pulse racing at the symbolism. From the way she tensed in his arms, it didn’t escape her either.

  Before she could think too much and get in her own way, Keilor stood her in front of the spanking horse in the corner of the empty main room, pressing her hands to the metal handlebars on the far side.

  What a sight…Tovia, lit only by emergency lights and the moon streaming through the large skylight at one end of the room, bent over in nothing but sexy lingerie and heels. And she was all his.

  She just hadn’t realized it yet.

  After pulling the last few implements out of his bag, he circled to Tovia’s side, showing her a matching pair of leather wrist cuffs. She flinched and started shaking her head, but she did not let go of the bars. He kneeled by her head, running a soothing hand over her back. “Shh, it’s okay. I am not going to bind you to anything.”

  Her pupils dilated in panic but she didn’t move or voice her questions.

  “I want you to feel the weight of them. I will put one around each wrist, not locked and not tied or clipped down to anything. Just like leather bracelets, okay? Their presence is a reminder you are here under my command, under my watch and care.” And love, he wanted to add, but he bit back the words.

  After warily eying the cuffs for a long while, Tovia’s jerky nod gave him permission to proceed. And, as he’d hoped, once the cuffs were tightened around her wrists, the tense muscles in her body relaxed.

  He backed off, letting her adjust to the weight, the sensation of having her wrists bound—if only in the most basic way. With each deep breath, she relaxed more.

  “Thank you, Sir.”