Sage (Club Nymph Book 3)

by Abby Gale

  We’re like a cat and mouse; he’s chasing, and I’m hiding. There’s no moving forward, and it’s frustrating as fuck.

  The fact that Nick is the Sheriff’s son won’t change whatever we do, but I won’t let that fact shape my today more than it’s already done. If Nick wants me, then he has to take me according to my rules, not his.

  Chapter 28

  Present

  “Wahoo!!” Harley applauses next to me as we watch our dancers’ moves. Man’s World, former Club Nymph, has four off the charts hot dancers and watching half-naked men move around the stage seductively is the best moment of my job.

  “Kent, wrap her legs around your waist,” I say, and Salem sends me a kiss. She’s clearly enjoying “helping” the guys rehearse.

  “He’s here again, Sage,” Harley says, motioning to the exist with her head. I know who she’s talking about even before I turn my head. With a sigh, I stand up and walk toward him. This time we’ll have a proper talking. I want him to explain to me why he showed up after years, what he wants from me. Just when I open my mouth to talk, he beats me to it.

  “What are you doing here? What do you fucking want from me?” I spat.

  “Go to dinner with me tonight.” His voice is hard, and his eyes are unwavering.

  I frown. “Not until you answer my questions.”

  He laughs with the same cruel edge I’ve gotten used to. “You want answers. And I want…” he trails off with a smirk before continuing, “Go to dinner with me.”

  “I don’t trust you,” I murmur, glaring at him.

  “It’s not like I’m gonna attack you in public, Nikki,” he almost dares me. “It’s been twenty fucking years. I deserve dinner at least. It shouldn’t be that much of a burden for you,” he snaps at me.

  I want to get some answers after all the chase, and he won’t give me a word without a fucking dinner. Dinner is too meaningful, too cliché. I can’t survive dinner with him. I sigh. “I can’t do dinner, but I can do lunch.”

  His eyes soften, and he nods. “You’re free to go now?”

  “Give me five minutes,” I say and walk toward the girls. They’ve already been watching Nick and me with interest. Shaking my head, I smile at them. “I’m going for lunch, will be back in an hour.”

  “Don’t rush. You can stay with him until we open the doors,” Harley says, winking.

  “It’s not like that,” I start, but I’m not sure how it is.

  “Sure,” Salem says, rolling her eyes before pushing me toward the rooms. “Hurry up, don’t make the hottie wait.”

  After fetching my coat and purse, I go back to where Nick is.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” I murmur as I go out of the club.

  We’re walking in silence, both of us are busy with our own thoughts. I don’t know how to act next to him. I feel familiar to him, but it doesn’t make sense after all those years apart. With him, I’m moving in circles. My thoughts and questions always come back to the confusion.

  “Let’s stop here,” he says beside me, pointing at a café on the corner.

  I tense when he touches the bottom of my back. The heat from his hand warms my skin and makes my heart beat faster. I school my expression, so he doesn’t see how he affects me as we take our seats in the corner of the café. After we give our orders, there’s nothing to distract us from the talk we should have to catch up on all those years that passed.

  “You’ve changed a lot,” he says.

  I snort. “It’s been twenty years, Nick. Of course, I’ve changed.”

  “Sometimes I don’t feel like it’s been that long,” he murmurs and sighs before adding, “I missed you, Nikki.”

  I wish I could use the clichés and say the sincerity in his voice surprises me, and the way he looks at me unarms me. But, no. The look he gives me is dangerous, even though his voice is soft. He’s not safe, and it only proves what I know. So many things have changed, so much time has passed. We’re not the same people anymore. Even though he still makes my heart race after all these years, he cannot feel the same thing for me. I’m too broken for him to fix, and I’m not even sure if I want to be fixed. “We were just kids, then,” I finally murmur softly.

  “Will you say it didn’t mean anything?”

  “We wanted it to mean something at that time. It was childish, easy, stupid.”

  “I didn’t sh-” he changed his word of choice, “I didn’t do what I did because it wasn’t real!” he roars. After getting some weird looks from other tables, he lowers his voice. “Nothing between us was easy. Not now and definitely not then. It may have been childish, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t fucking real.”

  I shrug, trying not to let hope bloom inside me with his words. “Maybe.”

  “It meant everything to me, Nikki. You were my first love, everything I could think of, everything I wanted to have,” he raises his voice with passion and maybe anger.

  I considered acting indifferent, maybe I would if I was ten years younger. At the age of thirty-five, playing games come off silly and a waste of energy, so I go with the truth. “You were my first love, too. My first of everything and then, you left me when I needed you most, or that was what I thought. I didn’t know what you did for me.”

  “I wasn’t your first everything,” he says. His voice is so dark, so sinister it chills my bones.

  I know what he means, but I don’t want to talk about what happened to me. I want to talk about why he’s here, what happened to him, and what he wants from me. I want to know if I should stop the feelings he awakens in me or let them free to bloom without any restriction and fear.

  “When did you get out of jail?” I ask just to change the topic.

  “Five years ago.”

  “And why did you show up now?”

  “I was too angry to find you. When I decided to find you, it wasn’t so easy to locate you.”

  I nod. I can understand why he feels angry. Frowning, I ask my next question, “So you were looking for me all this time?”

  “Yes, and I’ve also been trying to adapt to freedom. I opened up my own garage, fixing cars and shit. Since I found you six months ago-”

  “You found me six months ago?” I interrupt him.

  “Yes. I’ve been following you since then,” he says. His voice is unapologetic.

  Shaking my head, I try to absorb his words. He’s been around all those times. And when I think about it, I know there were small signs, but they were so small I could easily ignore them. The constant feeling of being watched should’ve been an alert, but I just blamed my paranoia. Now, I know the reason behind it.

  “Have you ever been married?” he asks like he hasn’t just admitted his stalkerish behavior.

  I snort. “Marriage is the last thing I can think of.”

  “Any boyfriends?”

  I look at him sharply, trying to make him understand that it’s not his business, but he keeps his persistent gaze at me. “I had boyfriends… lots of them… whenever I need a man.”

  “For sex? Didn’t you love anyone?”

  “I love myself, isn’t that enough? Also, I didn’t even think I could have sex, but I do, and I’m not gonna complain about other stuff. I’m happy.”

  He shakes his head. “No. No, you’re not happy. You’re still living in the past, what has happened to you. Just like I didn’t forget any of it.”

  I stare at him for a second before murmuring, “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “It does. It’s all my life is about,” he snaps.

  It’s my time to raise my voice. “It shouldn’t have been. It was my problem, you should have steered clear of it.”

  “Everything about you is my problem, too. It always has been and always will be.”

  “What do you want from me? Revenge that you went to jail because of me? What?”

  “I want what is owed to me... you.”

  I snort. “You want a piece of what your dad tasted?” I ask with poison dripping from my voice, and before he can
open his mouth, I add, “Okay. Follow me.”

  Chapter 29

  Past

  Age 14

  “Okay. Follow me.”

  With my head bowed and my hands shaking, I follow the guard. I can’t stop my eyes from roaming over the place. Cold, soulless, and desperate. This place smells of desperation from the cells that line up against the two sides of the walls to dim lights which had seen better days. Girls around my age are pacing on the pathway in front of the cells. Some girls are playing cards and laughing like they’re not in prison. Some don’t even bother with the jail uniform. Some look as scared as me, some seem ready to fight just because they catch you looking their way. I try to hide behind my hair, but I can see their gaze linger on me as I pass them by. Some of them look at me with pity, some with amusement, and some with indifference.

  I’m scared.

  I’m shaking as I walk. My body still hurts since I’ve got out of the hospital only this morning. I slowly reach for my stomach and swallow down the lump in my throat. With a sigh, clutching the hem of the white t-shirt they gave me, I force myself to put one foot in front of the other. I wince when the guard opens the door of a cell.

  “Welcome to your room, bird. It’s a five star hotel suite,” she says with a cruel laugh before pushing me inside.

  The cell is cold and dark. A rancid smell permeates from the grey walls and naked, pee-stained bed. I gag. Slipping against the wall and pulling my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around my waist and sob.

  No matter what happens or how forward I try to move, I always come back to a dark and cold place with tears on my face. Always back to my miserable loneliness.

  Chapter 30

  Present

  He tries to stop me a few times by calling my name, but for the sake of not making a scene he finally stops trying and follows me. When we enter the room, I head for my bedroom after looking at him over my shoulder to say, “You know your way around the house. Go to the guest room and wait for me.”

  “Domme Sage is talking, hmm?” he says. Even though he has a smirk on his face, his voice and eyes are sharp as a knife.

  “There’s no other Sage.”

  “What makes you think that I’ll let you dominate me?”

  I turn around to face him fully with a smirk of my own. Without saying anything, I start taking off my clothes. His gaze licks every inch of skin I let him see until I stand in front of him with my black bustier that covers my upper body and my black panties. After he takes his time checking me out, he finally meets my gaze.

  “You’ll let me do whatever I want to do to you, so you can take a piece of me, Nick. You’re not any different.”

  His jaw tenses with my words, ticking as he grits his teeth. Slowly walking towards me, he places his hand next to my head. There’s a challenge in his eyes, expecting me to take a step back. I would if I was the old, naïve me. Now, I just lift my chin and reciprocate his gaze with my own.

  “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, yes, but not because I want to take a piece of you. The opposite, Nikki,” he says, tracing a line from my jaw to my ear with his nose before murmuring, “I want you to take from me. I want you to see the man I’ve become, the scars I have. I’ll let you control me so you can take your revenge on everything you’ve been through on me.”

  With that, he turns and walks toward the guest room, discarding his clothes piece by piece on the way.

  Take my revenge on him? I hate to admit, but the idea is alluring. He’s teasing my sadistic side, but I trained myself enough to be in control no matter what kind of emotional chaos I’m in.

  After changing into my leather bustier and black stockings, my domme costume, I head to the guest room, the room I use only for this occasion. Seeing him naked and on his knees catches me off guard, I take a moment to school my expression. He’s in a submissive position, and I have never thought about seeing him like that. Straightening my back, I get into my role and stand in front of him in my killer heels. He doesn’t lift his eyes, to my surprise and pleasure, and I know the only thing he can see is my leather boots.

  Drawing a pattern on his thigh with the nose of my shoe, I smile at myself when he hisses.

  “Have you ever done this, Nicky boy?” I ask in a mocking voice, pressing my heel on his thigh.

  “Does it matter? Will you get jealous if I say yes?”

  Pressing my heel harder on his thigh, until he groans, I snap at him, “Just answer the fucking question. I don’t want your smart mouth.”

  He chuckles. “Don’t you know? I can do pretty things with my smart mouth.”

  Pulling his hair, I force him to look at me. His expression is smug, but it turns angry and painful when I press my foot a little on his hard cock.

  “Climb up on the bed. Stay on your knees. Hands linked behind your head.”

  He does as he’s told without a word and I grab what I’m looking for from the top shelf of the drawer. Holding it in front of him, I dare him to say anything, but he just smirks.

  “You won’t scare me with a collar.”

  I look at him innocently. “Who said I’m trying to scare you?”

  Slowly, I get on the bed, going closer to him on my knees. His gaze roams over me as I wrap the collar around his throat. The collar has a kind of handcuffs behind it so his hands will stay behind his head, and I tie the cuffs around his wrists.

  Leaning back, I look at him; he looks so comfortable, but soon that will change.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Of course, I’m okay.”

  “You’re okay now, but you won’t be okay in 30 minutes. Your elbows will start to ache, your arms will shake, your shoulders and your back will tense and strain against the cuffs. And the bonus point, you’ll make your situation even harder, because you’ll want to touch me. You’ll pull and push, you’ll try to tear and break, and that will only make it worse.”

  He glares at me. His jaw tenses. A muscle ticks in his cheek, but he says nothing.

  I bite my lip to stop my smile. “What’s your safe word?”

  “Will you stop if I say it?” He quirks his eyebrow in a challenging look.

  “Nope.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he almost huffs.

  I laugh. Leaving the bed, I turn my back to him before hitting the button on the remote I’ve been hiding in my hand.

  “Fuck!” he groans when electricity hits his body.

  “Any problem, Nicky boy?” I turn to face him after pressing the button once more.

  “You fucking…” he grits out.

  His body tenses and winces with the sudden pain. A vein on his forehead pops out, his face gets redder, and he breathes through his nose before meeting my gaze.

  Grabbing a chair, I place it in front of the bed.

  “Come to the edge of the bed,” I order him.

  When he doesn’t do what I said, I press the button again. With a strangled cry, he sends dagger to my way.

  “I’m not fucking Pavlov’s dog!” he growls but does as he’s told.

  I laugh and sit on the chair in front of him, placing my legs on his sides. His eyes zero in between my legs, and for a second, he looks like he’s forgotten he should be angry at me.

  “I haven’t decided what I want to do with you. I’ll just enjoy myself as I think,” I say, leaning back in the chair without losing our eye-contact.

  Placing my hand on my thigh, I slowly move up until my fingers graze the edge of my lace thong. I rub myself over the lace, and it’s not a surprise that I’m wet. He tries to take his eyes away from me but fails miserably, and when I push the offending fabric aside, he accepts the loss. He licks his lips when I tease my folds with my fingers, before slowly circling my finger around my swollen clit.

  I moan with the tingling sensation that roams all over my body. His cock twitches with the sound, and he bites his bottom lip when I torturously, slowly, push my finger into my entry. I add another finger, and the wet sound is as hot as it’s embarrass
ing.

  Pulling my fingers away, I lean into him and smear the wetness from my fingers onto his full lips. He sucks my fingertips into his mouth and groans as he licks me clean.

  “Do you like how I taste?” I’m close enough that my breath hits his face, but also too far for him to kiss me.

  “Yes,” he snaps.

  My gaze hardens as I pull away. “Your dad liked it, too.”

  He starts coughing from the unexpected blow. If eyes could kill, I know I’d be dead by that second, but I stay indifferent to his fury and keep playing with myself. I push the two fingers that were just in his mouth into me and moan loudly. Spreading my legs a little wider, I start fucking myself like a woman on a mission.

  His mouth turns into a thin line as I keep moaning loudly. Finally, he can’t keep up the angry face any longer and his lips part with the sharp intake of breath. His cock is pointing at me, the head is an angry red, and I can almost feel the vein under his thick dick throb.

  “Do you want me to come?” I moan. “Do you want to see me gush over my fingers?”

  “No. If you’re gonna come I want it to be on my tongue or my dick,” he snaps.

  I laugh, and it comes out shaky as the first wave of pleasure hits me. “Too bad, you’re not the one to decide.”

  I keep my eyes glued to him and ride the pleasure I give to myself under his intense, hungry, and lustful gaze.

  When I come with a loud moan, I see him trying to hold back his own release that’s threatening him just by watching me.

  Nick and I had a connection from the beginning, a connection I can’t understand or describe, but it’s always there, consuming us, blending our lives together, and linking our fates to each others.