by BJ Wane
When Harper ended the call and literally stomped toward the building’s employee entrance, Skye turned her attention to her growling stomach and calling Lisa to ask for advice on what to wear to Spurs tomorrow night. The last time, when she’d entered thinking the place was a regular nightclub, she’d gotten a pass on her jeans, but not only couldn’t count on that leniency again, she didn’t want to stand out as either a rule breaker or a newbie guest. She wanted to fit in and make Clayton proud and glad to hook up with her one more time.
“You’re in Boise now?” Lisa asked, sounding excited. “I know just the place. If you can kill time for an hour, I’ll grab Jen and Poppy, and we’ll meet you for lunch and shopping. Sound good?”
More than I can express. An afternoon with friends she knew weren’t hiding ulterior motives for wanting to spend time with her was just what she needed to pull her out of her funk, at least until her mood took another downward plunge when she left Mountain Bend for good come Saturday morning.
“You bet. Tell me where to meet you, and I’ll be there. And Lisa? Thank you.”
“Of course. I’ve been where you are, confused and feeling alone. I wish you’d let Clayton help, but I understand and respect why you don’t. See you soon.”
Skye disconnected and pulled up directions to the Chinese restaurant Lisa suggested for lunch after vouching for the buffet, refusing to let the tears blurring her vision fall. Enough of her maudlin mood and moping about things she couldn’t change. It was time she concentrated on what she could fix about her circumstances, right after she reaped all the benefits of another few hours submitting to Clayton’s dominant, caring attention.
Harper paused at the door to the hospice and watched Skye drive away. Her irritation with Meg had escalated into anger over the past few days. As much as she loved her older sibling, she’d always despised her greediness, and now she could add Meg’s lack of conscience to the list of things to find appalling about her. Harper admitted she never should have mentioned the surprise visit from Skye’s grandfather six months ago, but bemoaning her mistake wouldn’t help now.
She couldn’t believe Meg was willing to camp out in Alex and Skye’s house with her boyfriend’s body stashed in the garage freezer. Just thinking about it made chills skate down Harper’s spine and gave her the creeps. Alex had been a jerk, no doubt about it, and she’d never liked the man, even before he proved he had no qualms about seducing and marrying a grief-stricken young woman just to rob her of half an inheritance she knew nothing about at the time. He and Meg had no one to blame but themselves for what went down that blew their plans. They should have played it safe and kept their hands off each other once Alex and Skye married. Harper didn’t blame her for filing for divorce when she found out he was cheating on her after just two months of marriage.
Harper felt like throwing a major temper tantrum, but that would solve nothing. Entering the building, she wished she hadn’t been moved to second shift so she could be getting off work instead of just starting, and free to confront Meg face to face about what she planned to do if Skye showed up. Getting anything out of her over the phone had proved futile and only added to her annoyance and worry over the whole cluster-fucked mess.
Regret weighed on Harper’s mind as she clocked in, her heart aching for Skye and what they’d put her through. But, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure a way out of the corner Meg’s actions had backed her into, and she feared time was running out for all three of them.
Skye followed Lisa’s car from the restaurant to the shopping mall, wishing she hadn’t eaten so much at the buffet even if she’d enjoyed the food as much as the other girls’ company. She was so full her stomach hurt, and the last thing she wanted to do was try on skimpy lingerie. If it weren’t for her strong desire to make a lasting impression on Clayton tomorrow night, she would just browse and continue hanging out with Lisa, Poppy, and Jen.
As soon as Skye saw the little store, a sharp pain struck her head followed by a quick flash of her browsing through racks of fetish wear. Parking next to Lisa, she closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. She remembered shopping here but not wearing anything even remotely similar to what the store sold. Her head pounded with a reel of more memories – buying a few outfits, taking snapshots of others with the sales clerk’s permission, jotting down something in a small notebook, then her sitting in front of a computer with the lingerie displayed on hangars. There was a shelf with several paperbacks, the poses and dress of the couples on the front covers hinting they belonged in the erotic romance genre.
Was that where her vague familiarity with the lifestyle stemmed from – reading about what Clayton had introduced her to? Before she could figure it out, a sharp rap on her window pulled her attention away from the new wave of memory return to Poppy’s concerned face at her window.
“You okay?” she asked loud enough to go through the rolled-up glass.
Lowering it, she gave her a feeble smile. “A slight headache is all. I’m ready.”
Skye got out and joined Poppy, Lisa, and Jen inside the shop, trying her best to mask the sudden, painful attack of memories still pounding at her temples. “That would look good on you, Jen,” she said, joining Jen at a rack of silky sheaths that would barely cover the butt.
“Drew loves these short, one-piece numbers. This one, with the slits on the sides, is on sale.” She held it up to her, the copper, spaghetti-strap slip complementing Jen’s tanned skin and brunette hair.
“Nice,” Poppy called over from the next display where she’d pulled out a leather bra and panty set. Holding it up, she asked, “What do you think? I’ve never worn leather, but Dakota seems to like it, from how often he wears his vest with nothing under it.”
“Yeah.” Lisa strolled over, fanning herself and sending Poppy an impish, teasing grin. “And he looks so friggin’ hot in it I have trouble looking away.”
“As long as you look and don’t touch, you can ogle my guy all you want,” Poppy retorted, returning her smile to let her know she wasn’t really worried.
Jen snorted, shaking her head. “You two are so ga-ga over them and them over you that neither of you have to worry about straying. That’s one of the best things about a dominant’s possessive streak.”
Lisa handed Skye a lace baby doll with a canvas of blacks, oranges, and browns that she accepted wishing she had the nerve to wear such snug-fitting lingerie. “Clayton has shown the same proprietorial glances when eyeing you, Skye. If he keeps that up tomorrow night, you might bear the brunt of a few others’ unhappiness over it, especially if you wear this. With your figure, he won’t be able to resist.”
The miniscule, body-hugging piece was held together with black lace straps, hem, and piping. The black bow centered between the breasts would draw attention to the amount of flesh the low-cut, short slip left uncovered.
Skye shook her head and tried handing it back, but Lisa skipped out of reach with a laugh. “Come on,” Skye protested even though she longed to try it on. “I’m carrying too many extra pounds to look good in this.” Not to mention the price would force her to charge it.
“I’m with Lisa.” Poppy gestured toward her slender body. “I’m still underweight even though Dakota insists on feeding me every time I turn around. If I had half your curves, I’d flaunt them in front of him every chance I got. If you’re planning on leaving this weekend, what do you have to lose?”
The three of them eyed her with hopeful looks, and Skye figured they were waiting for her to say she’d changed her mind. Unfortunately, her circumstances demanded she return to the scene of the crime, so to speak, and make an effort to set her life right. If she wanted to get the most out of this last chance to take a walk on the wild side, she would heed that remark, what did she have to lose, and find the courage to wear this little number for Clayton.
“You’re so right, Poppy.” She’d heard Poppy’s story about battling cancer then undergoing a bone marrow transplant, and figured the redhead knew what she was talkin
g about when it came to living life to the fullest while you could. “I’ll try this on so long as you all pick something equally eye-popping for you. Deal?”
“Deal,” they responded in unison before continuing to look for their purchases.
****
“Why didn’t you tell me about Sharon’s harassment?”
Clayton glared at Skye as he started the Bronco and left the rear parking of his office building. He was just as irritated with her for trying to keep that from him as he was with his conflicting feelings about her leaving tomorrow without letting him know enough about her to keep going with their relationship. Finding himself in the same situation as Shawn and Dakota were a few months ago also didn’t sit well with him. He’d thought himself immune to falling hard and fast for someone he’d just met.
“I told you I’m leaving tomorrow. Why cause trouble before I go?” Skye shrugged, as if the other woman’s snide actions didn’t bother her. “Let her have her petty revenge. You can deal with her however you see fit after I leave.”
“I will.” As soon as he got his anger under control, another thing he wasn’t used to doing. He rarely let anything, or anyone get to him to the point of anger, but anything to do with Skye seemed to bring out either the best or worst in him. ”Can I at least talk you into keeping in touch, so I know you’re doing okay once you leave, since you don’t trust me enough to help you?”
She fidgeted with the tie on the knee-length wrap she wore to cover whatever she had on underneath, piquing his curiosity as soon as he’d arrived to take her to the club. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Clayton. I’m not at liberty, right now, to say much. I’m sorry.”
“And you can’t elaborate on that either?”
She shook her head, refusing to look over at him. “No. I’m…”
He held up a hand, forestalling another apology. “Just let it go, then.”
Darkness had fallen, and he managed to set aside his unhappiness over keeping his distance from her the last few days and his ex’s actions by the time he parked at Spurs and escorted her inside. “Do I finally get to see what you’re wearing under that?” he asked as Ben walked in and flashed them a grin.
“Do I get to see, too?”
Skye slipped her heels off and placed them in a cubby, a pink blush stealing over her face as she glanced at them and untied the belt at her waist with a nod. “It’s no big deal,” she said, shrugging.
“I beg to differ, sweetheart.” Clayton took the wrap from her hand, eyeing her lush curves filling out the snug fit of the earth toned sheath.
“Oh, yeah, me too.” Ben reached out and tugged on her hair as he passed her on the way to enter the playroom. “The only way you could possibly look better is without that little number. See you two inside.” he said, placing his Stetson on a hook.
Clayton took her hand and followed Ben, saying, “I’m a little surprised but proud of you, Skye. Are you sure the last and only time you were here was your first visit to a private club? You seem a lot more relaxed and willing to explore tonight.”
She paused as they stepped through the doors, her gaze scanning the crowd before settling on him. He couldn’t miss the spark in those dark eyes or the way she seemed to quiver when she looked at him and noticed his new multi-strand flogger hooked to his waist. The eighteen-inch, black-bull-leather tresses were soft enough for beginner play but heavy enough to deliver a firm whack, and attached to a heavy-duty hand-blown weighted glass handle that doubled as a dildo for anal or vaginal play. For the more experienced or adventurous sub, the handle could be iced or heated.
“The night you stayed with me convinced me I should get what I can while here. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to indulge my curiosity and be with someone like you again.”
“Well, what do you know,” he drawled, yanking her against him. “An honest answer about your feelings. There’s hope for you yet.”
Unable to resist, Clayton kissed her, long, hard, and deep. He liked the way she kissed him back, her lips moving against his, her tongue welcoming and matching his strokes, her low moan sliding into his mouth as she pressed her soft body closer. If she wanted a memorable experience to take with her, he’d give it to her without pressuring for more. If this was the end of their short-lived relationship, he’d make the best of it for both of them and, with luck, find it as easy to get over her as it was to fall for her in the first place.
Chapter Ten
The same as last week, Skye experienced a sense of familiarity upon entering Spurs with Clayton. And just like every other time he’d pulled her close, kissed her, or touched her, she lost all sense of reality and found it easy to shed her insecurities along with her inhibitions for a chance at more. As he slowly ended the kiss that managed to rev up her already heightened senses, she registered the slow, country western ballad filtering through the low drone of voices and club play within the spacious, high-ceilinged room. Her pulse leaped as she looked up at his rugged, tanned face under the lowered rim of his hat and caught his cobalt stare. God, how she loved being the recipient of that look.
“The same safe words apply tonight, and, in case you’re wondering, I know how far to risk taking a newbie. Do you want one of your two drinks before I choose where we’ll start tonight?”
She appreciated but didn’t need his reassurances regarding her safety, in that, she trusted him implicitly. She was in no hurry to get started, enjoying the anticipation of wondering what he’d do, where, and when, and if it would include using that wicked flogger dangling from his waist. If this night had to last her awhile, she didn’t want it to end too fast. “Yes, thanks,” she replied, spotting Poppy at the bar as they moved that way.
Swiveling on the barstool, Poppy greeted them with a wide smile. “There you are. That looks as good on you here as it did when you tried it on in the shop. Do you like what we picked out for her, Master Clayton?”
“You did a good job, Poppy.” He boosted Skye onto the stool next to Poppy then signaled for Simon, who was tending bar. “A light beer, or something else?” he asked her.
“Beer, please,” she replied, pleased he remembered.
A few minutes later, Poppy leaned forward and whispered to Skye, “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
“Why do you say that?” she returned, watching Clayton talking to Simon then taking the two beers the bartender handed over.
“Because you can’t take your eyes off him. Been there, done that. In fact, I’m still there.” Her blue eyes shifted toward Dakota who stood leaning against the far wall, keeping an eye on things.
Skye’s lips quirked as she followed Poppy’s look. “He’s so frickin’ hot.”
“And all mine, so drool over your own guy.”
“No problem,” she returned, laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Clayton handed Skye her beer then took a swig of his, never taking his eyes off her.
“She’s complimenting my man candy. Do something with her, would you?” Poppy teased.
“We just got in the door, but I can see where that might warrant my attention.”
Skye laughed at their joking, thinking they were kidding until Clayton tugged her off the stool and took her place.
“What are you…oomph!” Her breath escaped in a rush when she found herself over one, rock-hard, denim-covered thigh, her lower legs pinned down by his other leg. She didn’t know whether she was amused or turned on until he inched up her snug slip to bare her thong-divided buttocks. Turning her head up sideways, she still couldn’t see her friend but spoke to her anyway. “Thanks a lot, Poppy!”
“You’re welcome,” she returned with a snicker.
Resting one calloused palm on her right cheek, Clayton’s voice held a hint of humor as he admonished, “Shame on you, sweetheart, ogling and commenting on your friend’s man candy. By the way, Poppy, I’m going to tell my friend what you called him.”
From the little she’d seen of Dakota and Poppy, Skye guessed he wouldn’t take kindly
to the label of man candy. The satisfaction she got from Clayton’s rejoinder ended when he lifted his hand and landed a sharp blow on her buttock, the sting and burn seeping deeper than the more playful ones he’d given her with his hand, not quite as sharp and penetrating as the tree branch. She sucked in a breath, her pussy warming and swelling in anticipation of more, finding the position, public venue, and the intimacy of his hand all aphrodisiacs. Putting her head back down, she held onto his lower leg and wiggled her butt for more, not willing to wait now that he’d begun.
“I love how you can still surprise me with your responses, Skye. I also love your ass.”
He squeezed the abused cheek then swatted it again the same moment she heard Simon comment, “I’m with you there. Looks even better reddened.”
“Don’t all of them?” Clayton drawled.
Skye jumped from the next smack, this one delivered to her other buttock, then ceased listening to their talk as Master Clayton set up a steady barrage of spanks aimed at covering her entire backside. Alternating between brutally hard and soft enough to soothe, he kept her teetering on the edge of both his lap and her emotions for a good ten minutes. Her brain went to mush as her buttocks swelled and throbbed, burned then went numb. The dull pulsations spread to her pussy, quivered in her abdomen, and palpitated her nipples.
Closing her eyes against the blur of people’s lower legs within her limited vision, she arched into his descending hand then rode his thigh with wanton gyrations when he smacked her back down. The discomfort egged her on instead of deteriorating her enthusiasm, a new, insightful revelation akin to the one in the woods about herself. As much as she enjoyed learning about this kink fetish she didn’t remember harboring, she couldn’t imagine letting anyone else put her through this. According to her limited memory banks, she’d only craved Clayton for this exploration, and now she worried about leaving here desiring him, and just him from here on out.