When she realized another second and she’d start squirming in the booth, she spoke.
“It might be more enjoyable if you went hands on,” she suggested.
He looked back to her and more wet surged between her legs at the expression on his face and what was emanating from his eyes.
“If I fancy ass, it comes with breasts and a vagina or not at all.”
Sixx would take him up her ass, deep, hard, fast, soft, slow, gentle, any way he liked it.
She’d beg him for that.
On that thought, her salivary glands went into overdrive, and she lifted her drink, tipping it to him in salute, before she brought it to her mouth but didn’t take a drink.
“Too bad,” she murmured.
Then she sipped.
His lips, including that luscious bottom one, curled up slightly at the ends.
“Mistress Sixx,” he said softly. “If she had it her way, they’d be lined up by the score and fucked raw, climaxing at her command at the tip of her whip.”
She stared at him, her stomach feeling like it was cramping, but her voice sounded even when she asked, “You say that like there’s something wrong with it.”
“Of course there isn’t,” he drawled, totally and openly lying.
I’d make you like it, she said in her head. I’d make you beg for it. I’d break my back, sell my soul, do anything I’d need to do to make you come harder than you’ve ever come before, tying you to me, connecting you to me, making you never want to leave.
He held her gaze, his face arrogant and knowing.
Or I’d give it to you, her mind whispered. Anything you wanted, anything you’d want to do to me to give you what you needed in a way that need could never be eased and you’d always come back for more.
He kept holding her gaze, but in the dim light of the bar of the Bee’s Honey, she could swear she saw something in his expression grow soft, like he could read her thoughts.
Before she could get a lock on it, or better, turn from him so he couldn’t read anything further, for once he looked away first, but only because the server was there, placing his lowball of Scotch over ice in front of him.
Sixx picked up her drink, looked to the hunting ground, and took a healthy sip.
“Are you staying?”
Stellan’s question brought her attention again to him.
She put her drink down and asked, “Pardon?”
“In Phoenix,” he explained. “I know you travel for work and it takes you away for long periods of time. But this time, you’ve been back for a while, so it seems like you’re staying.”
She had been intending to stay.
Now she didn’t know.
“For a while,” she replied.
He nodded, sipping his drink, and then stated, “I’ve been meaning to invite you, simply haven’t had the chance. But I’m having a party next weekend. We’ve hit June, and the weather hasn’t yet started baking. I’m taking advantage. We’ll start with a pool party, then everyone can change and we’ll move in for dinner. I’d be delighted if you’d come.”
She hid her reaction to that by throwing back more gin.
“Leigh and Olly will be there,” Stellan went on, back to his gaze set unwavering on her. “Mira and Trey. Felicia’s bringing a couple of her toys. Penn and Shane will be there. Victor has a new slave he’s enjoying so he’s bringing her. In other words, it’s a play party, just to make that clear. Though, depending on how it goes, we’ll make things more sociable and less structured for dinner. That will be up to the Dom.”
When he hesitated, she nodded, indicating she’d heard and taken this in, and he kept speaking.
“Belle’s bringing Tiffany. Talia is bringing Bryan. Aryas will be out of town, as will Evangeline’s partner, but Evangeline will be there in her usual capacity. Observation only.”
It was an unwritten rule when referring to the Honey’s Domme Evangeline’s “partner”—who was really her boyfriend who was essentially living with her—at least in the confines of the walls of the club, people did not use his name.
But he was Branch Dillinger. Her partner. Her boyfriend. Her sub. But he was also the Honey’s new top guy, since Aryas had taken a step back from operations in order to focus on opening his new club in Tahoe, and he needed someone he could trust to pick up the reins.
And if Branch played it that way, wishing things to be private, he got it that way, and would even if the man couldn’t probably snap your neck with his bare hands then walk away and not give that kill a second thought.
It was just the life and everyone obeyed that rule.
Though the threat of having your neck snapped worked too.
Sixx was just relieved Evangeline was back, not to mention ecstatic she had a man in her life like Branch. Especially after what was done to her to make her take a prolonged break, all of this happening when Sixx was away.
It was good it happened when she was away. If she was close, retaliation would have been much different than what Aryas had ordered, and even much different than the vastly more thorough way in which Branch had handled it.
But it was handled. So at Aryas’s firm request, she’d let it be.
She was relieved and ecstatic for Leenie … and also jealous.
Jealous because she wondered what it would feel like to have a miracle happen after the world as you knew it turned to complete shit and then one day … you might not be healed, but you were again whole.
“And if you like, I’ll have a couple of male slaves available for your use. Fresh meat. I know a few who’d volunteer that I’m sure you’d like,” Stellan continued.
And that stomach cramp got worse.
He’d provide her “a few volunteers.”
Thoughtful.
And damned disappointing.
She wondered who he’d have there.
And how many.
“I’ll think about it,” she told him.
“Please do,” he said before taking another sip of his Scotch.
She followed suit with her gin, practically willing her phone to vibrate against her leg to give her a reason to get away from him.
Stellan spoke again.
“So you’re not in the mood, will you allow me to offer you something that might strike a different mood? One I’d wager you’d enjoy a great deal.”
At this proposal that came out of nowhere, Sixx almost choked on her gin.
But of course she didn’t, and again her voice was clear and cool when she asked, “What’s that?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid it has to be a surprise. But I will say it will be a surprise you’ll like. I also have to say, you shouldn’t wait to make your decision or things will culminate and we’ll miss our chance.”
Things will culminate?
Oh no.
She was intrigued.
Damn it!
“Can you give me a hint?” she pressed.
He made a tsking noise that she felt tap against her clit, and as was his usual, he didn’t lose contact with her gaze.
But he wasn’t looking aloof anymore.
This was both an invitation and a challenge.
She just didn’t know to what.
And with Stellan—this sudden Stellan who was vastly different than the Stellan she’d been getting (or not, as the case was) for the last too-many-months—she wasn’t sure how to handle it.
“Don’t disappoint me, Sixx,” he said quietly. “The Honey’s Ice Princess, cool and composed in every situation, shying away from an adventure?”
“I simply need to know how long it would take,” she lied. “I have something I need to do tonight,” she didn’t lie.
“As soon as you need to go, I’ll bring you back.”
He’d bring her back?
He was going to take her somewhere?
“What’s it going to be, Sixx?” he pushed. “In truth, I should have asked you the minute I joined you in this booth. We risk missing the grand finale the longer we wait.
”
“Stellan—” she started, wondering how to get out of it at the same time how not to appear like she was jumping on it by accepting too quickly.
She needed time to assess this change, plan, strategize, prepare, fashion a brand-new Sixx. One who could deal with the likes of Stellan Lange and come out the other side of whatever became of whatever was happening unscathed.
And more importantly, make certain he did.
Or time to find a place to hide. Or escape, her mind taunted. Coward.
“I’ve bought you a present,” he shocked her by announcing. “I did this some time ago. I’ve been wishing to give it to you but haven’t had the opportunity. Now’s the opportunity.” The movement was almost not there, but yet it was when he leaned slightly her way and warned in a low voice, “Don’t waste it.”
Again, eye contact, unrelenting.
Challenge.
Invitation.
Finally.
And a gift?
She lifted her drink, took another healthy swallow, put it on the table and then dropped her hand to her thigh to curl her fingers around the phone there while grabbing her clutch off the table with her other hand.
She looked back to him and said, “Let’s go.”
When she did, all vestiges of her stomach cramps disappeared.
Because when she said that, Stellan Lange smiled a wicked, roguish, beautiful smile.
Right at her.
two
Bait and Switch
SIXX
Her damned burner vibrated in her clutch the minute Stellan maneuvered his midnight silver metallic Tesla Model S into a parking spot outside a large building so far east of Phoenix that there was nothing but the building, its expansive parking lot and a lot of desert around it.
The trip there had not been short.
But it had been silent.
Sixx found this incredibly uncomfortable, and that grew by the minute mostly because it seemed Stellan didn’t.
Though it was more.
It seemed the edgier she got, the more he enjoyed it.
It was a Dom trick. She knew it. And because she did, she should have been able to handle it.
She should also have taken that time to get her head together, assess the risk she was taking, and prepare herself for all possible eventualities.
But not only was she Sixx, who prepared just enough not to get her ass handed to her (because what was the fun if you didn’t get thrown a few curveballs?), she also was in his fabulous car in the middle of nowhere with him.
Stellan.
Stellan.
In other words, she was off her game.
She pulled the burner out of her purse, flipped it open and read the text.
When and where?
Tapping on the number pad to reply, she typed, Wait for instructions and be ready.
She sent the text just as Stellan asked, “You have a flip phone?”
She turned to him to see him definitely turned to her, hand behind her on her seat and all, filling the opulent, state-of-the-art interior with an authority and hauteur like it was he himself who designed it.
And she liked all of that.
A great deal.
Oh yes she was edgy.
“It’s a work thing.”
In the lights of the parking lot she saw his gaze drop to her lap where her clutch and her hand around the burner was, and she could swear she saw his mouth get tight.
His eyes cut back up to her. “Ready?”
“Of course,” she replied.
That was when his face got lazy in a way she’d not once seen (and she’d been watching so she’d never have missed that).
Then he got out of the car.
She was out too, on her feet about to close her door when he got into her space.
In surprise, she twisted and looked up at him.
“A gentleman opens the door for a lady,” he declared.
“I’m very capable of—”
As unexpectedly as he’d gotten close, he completely erased the space between them and she snapped her mouth shut.
“A gentleman,” he took her elbow, “opens the door,” he put pressure on his hold on her and guided her from the car, “for a lady.”
He shut the door.
Okay then.
Sixx decided it was time to set some ground rules.
“It isn’t necessary—”
“Is this my gift to you?” he asked.
“Apparently,” she answered.
“My adventure on offer to you?” he went on.
“Yes,” she said shortly.
“So we play this my way.”
Her gaze slid to the large building. Having already noted there were quite a number of cars parked in that lot, it had been impossible to miss there was also a security guard at the entrance to it that Stellan had slowed to nod at before they’d driven in.
She looked back to him.
Well-guarded.
But why?
“Is this a new club?” she asked.
“No,” he answered.
She drew her brows together. “This isn’t a Pound, is it?”
“Fuck no,” he growled, looking offended.
She’d never seen that on him either.
It was hot.
And damn …
It was also more than a little adorable.
Seeing that, experiencing it, not thinking Stellan had it in him to look even remotely adorable, she realized belatedly she should not have said at the Honey, “Let’s go.”
She should have slid out of the booth without a word, gone home, packed and written Aryas a snail mail note he would therefore get when she was long gone. This note explaining she was taking the stash of cash she’d already accumulated and moved to … she didn’t know where. Bali maybe.
No, Samoa.
Samoan men were gorgeous.
It may seem insane, only maybe an hour after lamenting the fact Stellan had given nothing to her, now to be questioning him giving her something, whatever that something was going to be.
But it wasn’t insane.
Because Sixx was used to taking risks. She did not calculate them. She did not move through them cautiously. She met them head on.
However now this was happening, and since it was, she knew innately this was the greatest risk of all.
It was a risk that could have consequences she might not survive in a way that survival wasn’t the hoped for conclusion simply to keep breathing.
It was crucial simply to stay sane.
Though she could imagine Stellan would be offended at her guessing he’d brought her to a Pound. The traveling sex scene in Phoenix known as the Pound was not anywhere a snob like Stellan would ever be seen, and further what it had to offer he’d find revolting.
“Are we playing this my way, Sixx?” he pressed. “Or am I taking you back to the Honey?”
Another challenge.
She should apologize for wasting his time, ask him to take her back to the Honey, go home and decide what was next in her life. Whatever that next was would be considered ridiculously unsafe to normal individuals, but it wouldn’t be something that would wreak havoc on Sixx.
Yes, that was absolutely what she should do.
She did not do that.
Because she was with Stellan.
Finally.
And apparently it didn’t matter what she was risking, even if this time she knew it was heart, soul, body and mind, not to mention whatever may happen to Stellan through it all, Sixx was Sixx.
All in.
“We’re playing it your way.”
That earned her another one of his wicked smiles. It also earned her his taking her hand, curling her fingers into the crook of his arm, and walking her toward the building like he was escorting her up a red carpet.
Or down the aisle after a wedding.
Lord, she had to get her head together or this could go very bad, and that bad was her losing control of … well, everything.
Sixx needed control just as much as she needed chaos. She couldn’t have one without the other because she was addicted to both, and her elaborate efforts to maintain a perfect balance kept the mess that was her from flying apart.
That night the balance had already shifted, though, so she knew she was in serious trouble.
So she had to get back on her game.
Pronto.
She caught sight of two security guards patrolling the parking lot, both wearing head-to-toe black, from unmarked baseball caps to combat boots.
And they were armed.
There was a similarly attired (but without the cap) guard at the set of double doors where Stellan guided her. One of four sets of doors along the side of the building, each separated by a goodly number of feet.
“Mr. Lange,” the man muttered as he moved to open the door for them.
Stellan said nothing until the guard looked at Sixx.
“Eyes,” he clipped so severely Sixx almost missed a step due to surprise at his tone.
The guard immediately looked to his boots.
Okay.
What was that?
Stellan ushered her through the door.
When it closed behind them, she looked to his profile. “I’m not exactly in the closet, Stellan.”
He dipped his chin to catch her gaze. “That doesn’t matter.”
“I—” she began.
“We shouldn’t delay.”
And he set about making them not do that by moving her.
It was then she heard the noise.
Muted cheers.
Like at a sporting event.
Right.
What the hell was happening?
She saw they were in a long hall that curved on the interior wall at the ends like they were in the cement-floored, cinder-block-walled, currently deserted foyer of an auditorium.
There were also a number of doors along the inside wall, all closed, all staffed by guards, all just like what would lead into a theater.
Stellan walked her down to the third set, turned them toward the doors, nodded to the guard—this one catching Stellan’s eyes, but not Sixx’s—and the man moved to open the door.
When he did, a wave of sound came out.
Definitely a sporting event, and she could tell that not only by the roars of what had to be a large crowd, but also by the scaffold structure that held bleachers that were on either side of a passageway. That wide walkway led to what appeared to be two throne-like, very-high-backed, clean-lined, attractive chairs at the end. The chairs were butted arm-to-arm, and each one had a small, but ornate, circular table next to it at its free side.
The Greatest Risk Page 4