The Club: Ace

by Jenna Elliot

  Table of Contents

  Other ImaJinn Books Titles by Jenna Elliot

  The Club: Ace

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Author Note

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  Please visit these websites for more information about Jenna Elliot

  Other ImaJinn Books Titles

  by Jenna Elliot

  The Club Series

  The Club: Ethan

  The Club: Ace

  The Club: Jax

  The Club: Ace

  by

  Jenna Elliot

  ImaJinn Books

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

  ImaJinn Books

  PO BOX 300921

  Memphis, TN 38130

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-601-7

  Print ISBN: 978-1-61194-586-7

  ImaJinn Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.

  Copyright © 2015 by Jenna Elliot

  Published in the United States of America.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  ImaJinn Books was founded by Linda Kichline.

  We at ImaJinn Books enjoy hearing from readers. Visit our websites

  ImaJinnBooks.com

  BelleBooks.com

  BellBridgeBooks.com

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Cover design: Debra Dixon

  Interior design: Hank Smith

  Photo/Art credits:

  Man (manipulated) © Bowie15 | Dreamstime.com

  Background (manipulated) © Derek Audette | Dreamstime.com

  Dedication

  I’d like to thank Nutella, Pumpkin Spice anything, and Pinterest. A life worth living!

  Author Note

  Hotness Warning

  This book is not intended for readers under the age of 18 due to its steamy hot sex scenes, its blazing hot alpha males, and its otherwise sexy content. This series is written in three parts, one for each level of Command Performance, the club. Things are getting spicy in Level Two. I hope you have as much fun with Ace and Emme as I did and stick around for two of my favorite characters of all time, Jax and Audrey, who await you in Level Three of Command Performance. XOXO

  1

  Ace

  SHE WAITS FOR me, resting quietly and completely naked on the tabletop. I like that she doesn’t fidget. Her arms lie relaxed, but her knees are still closed . . . almost ladylike.

  I’m going to ask her a question because it’s my job to clear any employee for Level Two. The candidates have to be ready. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. And I’m wondering if she’s ready. We’ll see.

  “Guacamole or sprinkles on your tits?” I ask, Emme, my newest level two candidate. “Do you have a preference?”

  I don’t give a shit what she prefers. But as co-owner of Command Performance, South Beach’s premier sex club, I have to conduct all the interviews to decide if she’s really ready for more kink. Or if she’s bitten off more than her customers can chew.

  She tips her pretty face to mine and says, “Sprinkles.”

  I appreciate that she knows what she wants and doesn’t waste my time. I may not take much seriously around here beyond profits, but stepping up from level one to level two is a big deal. That I take seriously. Is Emme ready? We will see . . .

  Reaching over to the side bar, I grab a can of whipped cream. “Why sprinkles?”

  She flashes a quick grin and cups her tits for me. “Dessert is the best part of a meal, don’t you think?”

  Despite myself, I smile at her enthusiasm. She has perky tits, and her nipples pucker even before I get close. Looks like I have a little exhibitionist on my hands tonight.

  And this one’s a fox. Eager, young, but not too young, early twenties, maybe. Pretty, with clouds of soft reddish hair framing her face. Not blond or brown, but a color that reminds me of cinnamon. Spicy. Or maybe it’s the spray of golden freckles across her nose that makes her seem playful.

  I don’t know. But I can suddenly see her on her knees in front of me, deep gold eyes twinkling above those freckles as she services my rock-hard dick.

  We’re alone in a prep room, and she’s naked, so I’m not sure why I’m noticing her freckles. But she appears to have no hang-ups about nudity, or her lovely body. So far so good.

  We’re just getting started.

  “You joined the club a year ago?” I ask.

  She nods. Her tits jiggle. “My best friend brought me here.”

  I already knew. Her best friend is still shacking up with one of my partners, but I wanted to see if Emme is a name-dropper or if she could be discreet. Level Two requires some discretion.

  “Would that be Mia?” I ask.

  “Mm-hm.” She doesn’t elaborate.

  Okay, not a name-dropper. I actually can’t believe Mia and Ethan are still exclusive. I couldn’t last a fucking week with one woman, never mind an entire year. Ethan tells me I just haven’t found the right woman. He’s delusional.

  There will never be a right woman. And even if I meet one, I’ll send her packing.

  Which is what I was beginning to think I should do with Emme right now.

  She’s coming from a place I don’t get. Unlike me, she doesn’t seem to know darkness. There are no shadows lurking in those golden-brown eyes, just excitement. Maybe that’s why I’m curious about her. No one with a clean soul asks to step up to level two. There are lots of reasons people get off on kink, but wholesome and sexual deviance are mutually exclusive in my experience. And I have more than my fair share of that.

  I should invade her privacy, question her about her past. But she’s friends with Mia, so I have to treat this candidate with virtual kid gloves. So, on with the show . . .

  Giving the can a shake, I lean forward and invade her personal space. I thumb a pink nipple, which puckers nicely. She sways at first contact, so imperceptibly I might not notice except her breast brushes my palm. Her skin is soft.

  I go in for the kill.

  I drag my tongue over her nipple. Her tit trembles, noticeably now. Then she lifts her breast higher, offering more tempting skin for my pleasure.

  I grab her nipple with my teeth. All part of the test. It’s a tough job but someone has to do it. She doesn’t flinch. I bite. Her sharp intake of breath filters through the quiet. She lifts up on her toes and leans into my mouth.

  “You like a little pain, don’t you?”

  She doesn’t answer, so I pull back and spray whipped cream around that budding peak, then the other, and create a tempting masterpiece. The courtiers are going to love this new candi
date. I already know she gets off on what we’re doing. But I test her innocence. Does Emme know what she likes yet?

  “Still thinking about it?” I prompt.

  “I like what you did, sir.” Little Emme doesn’t disappoint, and passes another test. More important, her skin flushes. Goosebumps of excitement rise along her delicate skin.

  “What did you like about level one?” I reach for the bottle of sprinkles.

  I see the flare of interest deep in her gaze. She’s into this. But is she ready to walk into a room full of sex-hungry strangers who know how to play this game?

  “I like . . . everything.” She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “The shows. The sex. The men.”

  “Have you been spanked?”

  “Turns me on,” she admits.

  No hesitation. Very good. “Put your hands behind your back and spread your legs, sweet cheeks.”

  Those creamy thighs part instantly, and she stands immobile before me with her chest still raised. She’s a natural. She’ll see a lot of action. The doms here love new meat.

  “Put a finger on your clit,” I tell her. “Slide it back and forth slowly. Keep your eyes on mine.”

  She obeys and licks her pouty bottom lip. But she moves slowly. No reluctance. Her every move is sensual, seductive. The fox is putting on a show. Teasing me.

  Definitely an exhibitionist. And I’m half erect.

  Nothing new here. Not a testimony to her performance. My dick is ever ready. It’s my escape. Escape from the darkness in my past I work very hard to keep at bay.

  She does make for a tempting view, though. Her pussy is almost bare, just a tiny triangle of reddish hair. My fingers itch to replace hers, to drive her into a wild frenzy. But I’m patient. I can call up any of a dozen women in this club to suck me off, but right now, I’d rather wait, and play with Emme.

  “Are you wet?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Rub a little harder. And faster.”

  Her finger works her clit to a new rhythm, and her lashes flutter over those unusual-colored eyes. But her gaze never wavers from mine. She’s aroused. Because of her touch or because I’m watching her? Both, I think. She’s easy to read.

  But she’s so . . . ecstatic. Joyful. Crazy, but true. It’s all over her. A lighthearted excitement that’s so different from the usual attitudes that range from power plays to desperation. Emme is just light. No other word for it.

  And she is royally getting off on obeying my commands. Her chest trembles on shallow breaths. The pulse at her neck throbs. Her skin flushes, making the whipped cream look like snow against her creamy skin.

  “You don’t have permission to cum, Emme. Stop.”

  Her whole body trembles as she lets her hand fall away.

  “Eyes on mine,” I say. “Let me see your pussy finger.”

  She raises her hand, and I grab her wrist with a fast move that makes her inhale a sharp breath. I suck her finger into my mouth, watch as her gaze widens in surprise.

  “Very good.” I lave my tongue around the fingertip. “You taste like lust.”

  “Good lust?”

  “There’s no other kind,” I say, but that is a lie. There are all kinds of lust. Twisted lust. Secret lust. Sadistic lust. Dark lust. I know them all. I’ve explored them all.

  But Emme’s lust is bright, clean, eager.

  Angelic? I have to bite back a smile at that. Angelic lust? That would most definitely be a new one. Despite appearances, this candidate is no different than any other. I just haven’t found her dark place yet. She must have buried it deep.

  I spray whipped cream on her finger. She eyes my mouth as if expecting me to start licking. That would be incorrect.

  “Place this on your asshole.”

  For the first time, hesitation flickers across her face.

  Hm. Bad experience? Or innocent? I’m curious and take a wild guess. “Have you ever done any ass play?”

  “No. But I want to try everything.”

  “You aren’t afraid?”

  Her eyes shift away from mine shyly, but she quickly masters herself, then says boldly, “Why would I be afraid? We have safe words, green is good to go, yellow is wary, and if I don’t like something, I can stop, right? I just say the code word, red?”

  “That’s right.”

  Slowly, her hand disappears behind her. I step in and glance down to watch her finger the crease in her butt, sliding the whipped cream down to her asshole. Her features are suddenly blank, and I can tell she doesn’t want me to see that the effort’s costing her.

  “What’s your color, Emme?” I ask.

  “Yellow.”

  I like that she’s honest. When she finds the spot, her mouth forms a pouty “O”. “Back to green, sir.”

  I almost smile. “Put the tip of your finger inside.”

  She doesn’t even hesitate. Her pupils dilate.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Good. Edgy. Ready for an orgasm.”

  “If you cum tonight, you fail.”

  “Yes, sir.” Her voice goes as liquid as her gaze.

  I’d be willing to bet the night’s profit that failure is about the last thing Emme wants. “Think you can hold on?”

  “I like trying new things.”

  “With new men?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about women?”

  “I . . . don’t, um . . . I don’t actually know.” She’s panting breathily, possibly having some trouble focusing.

  Finger in the pucker hole will do that. “You’ll join me every Friday night, the same time as tonight, for four weeks. If you miss a session, you fail. If you’re late, you fail. If you don’t please me—”

  “I will.”

  Her confidence comes at me sideways, so I completely miss my chance to correct her for interrupting me in mid-sentence. Respect is the number one house rule of Command Performance. Wearing protection is number two. Non-negotiable rules if anyone bothers to read the fine print. Not everyone does, and I’m always surprised by that when I’m throwing their asses out the front door.

  But Emme’s so ready to please me that I let her slide. This time. “Only if you pass my tests, will I let you to move up to level two. Got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Good. “Turn around, bend over, and spread your ass cheeks.”

  She pivots gracefully and bends over in a fluid move. My gaze rivets on her hands as she grasps her cheeks and spreads herself wide, so I get a prime shot of whipped-cream covered butt crack. The courtiers will be all over this one.

  I leave her standing there and head to the towel warmer on the side bar again. She trembles before I even touch her. No fear here, just excitement. Her pussy glistens.

  After I clean away the whipped cream, I tell her, “Put your hands on your knees.”

  Then I slap her ass. First one firm cheek, then the other. I catch her high and low and I don’t stop when her bottom turns a mellow pink.

  I slip my fingers into her pussy and find her totally wet. She didn’t lie. She seems to like the spanking for itself, doesn’t need to pretend she’s been bad, or play any of those titillating role games. No, Emme just enjoys the heat. Such an unusual woman. I use another cloth to cleanse her pussy, too.

  “Very good. You can stand up and turn around.” I toss the cloths into the sanitized receptacle, and when I finish, I rake my gaze over her.

  She’s easy on the eyes with her creamy skin flushed. Her long, toned legs poised on strappy black heels. Her tits covered with my handiwork.

  Hm. Not done yet.

  I grab the sprinkles. The multi-colored kind that’ll make her tits look like perfect ice cream cones for a hot summer day.

  I catch her around the waist and pull her toward me. She doesn’t expect the move and gasps. I like taking her by surprise. “Lean back.”

  She melts against my arm in a boneless dip that reminds me of dancing. I’ve noticed her on the dance floor before. Most women scope out the action
from the bar. Not Emme. She’s always in the thick of the action.

  Her expression goes all soft as I support her weight and decorate her tits with a few artful shakes of the bottle. The whipped cream catches the sprinkles, and when I’m satisfied with the effect, I let her up.

  “You look like every fat boy’s wet dream,” I say.

  “Thank you . . . I think, sir.”

  The time the smile gets out before I can catch it. She’s edgy, clearly horny as hell.

  Excellent.

  “Tell me what is it you hope to find at level two?” I ask.

  “I want to have fun, sir.”

  “Just fun, Emme?” I consider her. She’s really not like me at all. She’s the girl next door, fresh, light, seemingly without dark secrets. “Any long-range plans?”

  “CPA degree. Husband. Eight kids.”

  Her answer stops me again. I blink. Another response that slips right by me.

  “Eight kids? For real?”

  She nods happily. If she thinks there’s anything weird or socially irresponsible about giving birth to a litter, she sure doesn’t look it.

  “You are thinking ahead,” is all I can come up with.

  “That’s what I do.”

  Obviously, and with a practicality and determination that seems unexpected for her age.

  “Let me show you what we do here on level two.” I extend my hand, and she slides her fingers into mine. I smile down at her as I lead her toward the door, and ask, “Have you ever been to an orgy?”

  2

  Emme

  “NO, SIR,” I SAY, surprised, but every atom of me comes alive. An orgy? This is beyond even what I imagined. And after a year as a member of Command Performance, I can imagine a bunch.

  I gaze up at the gorgeous man beside me and ask, “Will I participate, sir?”

  I can’t read him even though he’s familiar to me. I’ve encountered him before on my visits. He owns this place and is partners with my best friend’s boyfriend, so I know about him. He’s got this whole “lord of the court” thing going on that makes him a gracious host.

  “Participation will depend on your definition,” he says. “Yes and no.”