The Fix (Nightlong Series Book 2)

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  “Okay?”

  “Green.”

  She struck him at different points and sometimes went hard, sometimes gentle, so that he was in constant anticipation of what sort of strikes would come next.

  “Colour?”

  “Green.”

  He wanted to see how much more she could give, how far she would punish him for being male (he assumed).

  “You like pain?”

  “I don’t like pain. I like competition. I like to prove people wrong, to outdo them,” he admitted, “I’m a competitor, a winner.”

  “Oh, you are?”

  She struck his back, right between the shoulder blades, and he gasped on air, panting. It was a different kind of pain, against a part of his body nobody ever really touched. Usually he pinned girls down or at the most, he would let them pull his hair a bit. He didn’t really like cuddling or even slow kissing. He wasn’t affectionate, never had been, which was crazy given his mother was a hugger and had hugged him everyday he came home from school – plus extra cuddles every time he brought home a sad face or a nasty bump.

  “More.”

  She carried out the routine again: hard strikes, softer, dangling the flogger on his skin, then retracting and striking hard, again.

  “Colour?”

  He had to be honest and said, “Amber.”

  “Why?”

  “I could do with some water. I slammed a few drinks at the bar.”

  “Okay.”

  She went into her bag and produced a fresh, cool bottle of water.

  “Here.”

  He took some water from her and she watched him closely as he took it.

  “Are you enjoying this, or trying to win some kind of competition?”

  “Does Teddy get spanked like this?”

  “Yes.”

  “How hard?”

  “About the same.”

  “Give me a couple of strikes with a whip, then. Nothing major. Just some stripes to show off with.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “This session is over. You don’t make demands of a Mistress for the purpose of sport.”

  Untying him, she avoided his eyes, but he knew he’d done something naughty. It was a shame because he was just starting to feel euphoric from the painkilling agents rushing around his bloodstream.

  “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

  “You should be.” She cleared all her equipment away into a black duffel bag and left the room, leaving him to dress and gather himself.

  Taking a few deep breaths, he walked back out into the hall, hoping nobody had been spying on him. He couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean nobody had seen his Mistress cut short their session.

  Joining Teddy back at the bar, his mate asked, “You got spanked?”

  Dante tried to seem cocky. “Yeah. It was… new.”

  “Shall we go?”

  Dante slammed another bourbon. “Yeah.”

  In reality not much more than an hour had passed but Dante felt like it’d been hours and hours.

  He had an itch he needed to scratch and in the changing rooms of the Landing House, he masturbated all over himself to thoughts of an old university professor of his who always wore tight white shirts and exquisite, almost see-through lace bras beneath. She was always a sure-fire catalyst.

  In the woods outside as they emerged from the Landing House, the men walked to their respective cars together.

  Teddy lit up a cigarette, seeming cool, unaffected. “So…?”

  “I don’t get it… I don’t… I don’t know yet.” Dante scratched his head, knowing he needed a day or two to absorb what had happened tonight.

  “You are going back, though? I mean you do own it and unlike the rest of us, your membership’s free.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “It’s not for everyone, I guess.”

  “Jayne was angry with me when I gave her an order. I’m not sure I like taking orders.”

  Teddy stubbed his fag out on the woodland floor. “Like I said, it’s not for everyone.”

  Teddy got into his vehicle and drove away without so much as a pleasantry. They’d been friends for so long, it wasn’t as though they’d fall out now.

  If Dante were being honest with himself, he had no interest whatsoever in returning to Pernox – except maybe to suss out Shay Lawrence a little more. The only reason he had to go back was Teddy, who would call him a pussy and a wimp if he didn’t.

  It was clear Teddy wanted Shay, wanted her so badly, he was willing to get himself spanked for the privilege of seeing her two nights a week. It had to be the reason Teddy kept going back!

  Dante smiled to himself, jumped in his car and turned up The Killers full blast… then shot off into the night, dead-set on finding a woman to fuck in his local pub.

  Tonight, free and easy pussy would do very nicely indeed. He judged he was a lucky man after all, never usually having to take a spanking in exchange for sex. He always got that for free.

  (Oh… but he had much left to learn.)

  Two

  TWENTY-ONE AND A HALF YEARS of age, Dante had been visiting the BDSM haven known as Pernox for six months when one day, Shay Lawrence asked for an audience with him in one of the empty Mistress Chambers.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, feeling smarmy. He’d known that one day – eventually – she would need his advice about something to do with the business.

  “I need some help.”

  “Go on…”

  She actually looked… what was the word? Aggravated. She never looked like anything, let alone annoyed. Dommes didn’t react; they just walked away.

  “It’s Teddy. He keeps following me around like a… what’s the term?”

  “Lapdog? Lost puppy? Kneeling kitten?”

  “Something similar, yes.”

  “I really don’t know what you expect me to do.”

  “Pretend we’re together. I don’t know. It could work?” She looked almost innocent, but he knew better. There, beneath her small stature and white halo, lurked a siren.

  He folded his hands in front of himself. “But we’re not?”

  “We both know that so it’ll just be a secret pretend thing, just between us… won’t it?”

  He frowned, quizzing her. “Why are you so bothered? You could just revoke his membership.”

  “That wouldn’t do. His father comes here too and holds sway over a lot of other members.”

  “I know that, but since when did you let other people make the rules?”

  Pursing her lips, she put her hands on her hips, her perpetual crop left behind somewhere for once. “I just need to send him the message I’m not interested.”

  You could just tell him. Doh. He didn’t say it out loud though, knowing sarcasm in this place earned men fifty lashes – at least. “Why aren’t you interested if you don’t mind me asking?”

  She laughed. “I don’t date submissives.”

  “They’re the wrong sort, are they?” he said, daring a sarcastic tone.

  “I rarely date at all in fact. I prefer it that way. My life is here, where I feel safe.”

  “You don’t feel safe on the outside?”

  “That’s not for you to concern yourself with.”

  “That’s another question I’m not going to get an answer to.”

  “So,” she pouted, looking pissed off, “will you help me or not?”

  “It won’t matter. He knows me. He knows I spend five minutes lusting after a girl and then forget her afterwards. He’ll know something underhand is going on if we spend time together. He knows I don’t do relationships. Not whatsoever. Besides it’s ridiculous to think he’ll be put off. I know him.”

  “Know him, how?” she asked, shaking her jaw side to side, somewhat letting her guard down.

  “He can get any woman he wants but he only wants the ones hard to get. You should give yourself to him and that’ll soothe his crush, trust me. He dislikes easy women.”

  She laughed, clapping her
hands together. She carried on for quite some time, in fact. Completely titillated.

  “I don’t think so,” she finally said.

  “Why not?”

  She frowned this time, demonstrating that was another question she wouldn’t give an answer to.

  “Listen.” Her tone was non-negotiable. “Will you agree, or not?”

  “Not,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged, enjoying playing hard to get. After seeing how attracted Teddy was to women who played hard to get, he’d learnt long ago to adopt the same techniques.

  Funny how ironic that was now, given their present situation.

  “What are you thinking?” Shay asked him.

  “You care what I think?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just don’t appreciate it when you go quiet and bite your lip. It’s not becoming.”

  “Well, sorry. If you must know, I was just thinking how ironic it is that Teddy wants what you’re handing me on a platter.”

  “I said nothing about a platter.” She shot him a glare. “I said we’d pretend… we’d construct. We’d engineer something to make his eyes wander elsewhere, taking them off me.”

  “I know him! Giving him a challenge will only increase his ardour. You really must shag him and get it over with. Do something in bed to really put him off, like bite his knob or something.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t bite men. I’m not nearly that uncouth.”

  She said it so deadpan, he actually had to laugh. “Oh!”

  “Will you help me, or not?”

  “The only way I could do that is by convincing you to revoke his membership, or at least convince you not to be here the same nights he is.”

  “Impossible. It’s my job to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

  “Then I’m not helping you.”

  He knew, deep down, that she was using Teddy’s crush on her as a ploy for them to spend time together. Shay was too proud and in too much a position of authority to simply admit she liked Dante. While Dante didn’t find Shay attractive, it pleased him to know Shay didn’t reciprocate Teddy’s feelings.

  “What would it take? If we are to reach a compromise…”

  He thought about a list of things he’d like, such as a woman who could take him in the ass, but he’d yet to find such a woman, being as endowed as he was. A lot of women had to take a deep breath when they saw it coming towards their pussy, let alone that other tighter hole.

  He’d have liked one night with Shay, maybe swing her from the chandelier and have done. He’d be one up on Teddy who would never get the same chance (he doubted so anyway).

  He’d also have liked a father who loved him, but knew he’d never find that.

  Instead he thought of something practical he wanted.

  “I want to see the spa. I want to know it is where the documents say it is. I’m curious. That’s what I want.”

  “Men don’t come up to the spa.”

  He enjoyed this false sparring, even though he knew she was gagging for it, really.

  “It’s what I want in exchange for making Teddy jealous.” I’d quite like to see my own fucking property right about now too, thank you. It was a small price, if he had to bone her for the privilege.

  “That’s your term?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” She held out her hand to him and they shook on it. “Done.”

  That had been so easy, almost too easy, but he brushed off the feeling of being trapped in a bad situation and walked behind her down the corridor, following her into the main bar area.

  Stood behind the bar waiting for some drinks, she reached up and whispered in Dante’s ear, “I’ll arrange it so the nights he’s here, you’re here too, and the nights my sub’s here, neither of you are. You stand by my side whenever you’re here. You follow me and play the lapdog, giving him no invitation to seek my conversation anymore.”

  “What about Jayne?”

  She smiled a sickly smile. “Jayne told me you’re not really submissive, and she doesn’t enjoy that, so instead you’ll be my lapdog instead.”

  “Me? Not submissive? I never knew…” He cocked one eyebrow. Of course he bloody wasn’t.

  “Behave,” she whispered in his ear again, and for dramatic effect, bit hard on his earlobe. “I can be persuaded into biting… on occasion.”

  He searched her eyes and they both burst out laughing. The moment was sobered when Dante saw Teddy shooting daggers from across the room out of fiery, determined eyes. For once, Dante had something over Teddy, something he couldn’t achieve – not with all his might.

  “We’ll go up to the spa later tonight, once everyone is gone. He’ll assume I’m keeping you here late in order to make love to you.”

  “Aren’t you?” He chuckled.

  “How do you know we aren’t making love right now?”

  “Because if we were,” he whispered in her ear, “my nine inches inside you would already have rendered you speechless, and I’m not taking about your pussy hosting me.”

  Seeing the look of shock in her eyes, he wasn’t surprised when she said and did nothing.

  TEDDY was one of the last ones to leave Pernox that night, though he usually didn’t stay past midnight and it was three in the morning – closing time. For as long as he lived, Dante knew he wouldn’t forget the devastated look on his best friend’s face as he bid him and Shay goodbye, his hand even visibly shaking as he waved. A ghost of sorrow flashed across Teddy’s eyes and Dante had never felt so triumphant. Finally, he had something over Teddy, the tall, dark handsome best friend he’d lived in the shadow of for some long. Teddy – always with good grades, always taking his mother to lunch on Saturdays… always loving girls gently and restoring the belief in women that good guys did exist in the world.

  “I think he got the message. Did you see the look on his face?”

  “I saw,” Dante replied, although he didn’t fully understand his friend’s ardour.

  Dante had never had a crush on any woman. Women were for pleasure, that was all.

  Half of him was pleased, but half of him began to feel bad about what they were doing to Teddy, who was clearly quite sensitive.

  “How old are you?” he asked Shay.

  “Why do you ask?”

  They watched the barman finish polishing his glasses, fill the dishwasher with a final load and wipe down the counters.

  “Only that you could be twenty-five or thirty-five. You look younger but seem… older. Like an old soul. Like in one year, not so long ago, you lived a hundred years… and it’s why you’ve got all that wisdom behind your eyes.”

  “A poet and a shagger? Aren’t I privileged.”

  He laughed, bellowing from his guts. “Think what you like, most people do.”

  “Most people. How can you label me most people when I see you’re more than what they think you are?”

  He avoided her eyes, gulping down the terror in his throat. Was this woman someone who could undo him?

  “Now who’s the poet?” he counteracted.

  She snickered. “Go, go home for the night William. Leave us.”

  “I’ll lock up?” the bartender asked, gleeful at the thought of getting home – finally.

  “Yes.”

  William kissed her goodbye on the cheek and Dante watched curiously as he walked across the room and into the entrance hall. They heard a loud thud signalling the door to the tunnels was shut. William turned a key in the lock, the sound echoing through the windless, empty environment they now possessed – alone.

  Laying her crop on the bar, she turned to him and cocked her head, her leg crossed one over the other as they sat facing each other on tall bar stools.

  “You and Teddy. There’s rivalry?”

  “Nope. He loves me. We’re best friends and I don’t see that ever changing.”

  “So… what? What is it?”

  He locked his ha
nds together across his lap and confessed, “Envy.”

  “Envy of what?”

  He searched her blue-grey eyes and saw no malice, just curiosity. “He’s got a picture-perfect life. He’ll find a pretty wife to bear his children, a boy and a girl. He’ll become a hotshot lawyer in New York or somewhere and he’ll save a life one day or something. He’s perfect. He doesn’t know what it’s like not to be perfect.”

  “Why do you think you’re imperfect? From where I’m sitting, it seems hard to find an imperfection, especially if what you say about your dick is true.”

  He chuckled loudly and the noise echoed from one side of the large room to the other. Aware they were totally alone in a clandestine place, he felt his cock twitch, awakening to the tune of what could happen tonight.

  “I don’t think, I know.”

  “What do you know? Come on. Humour me.”

  “You really want to know?” he pressed.

  “Yes.”

  “Well I’ll need another drink then. Same for you?”

  “Go on then.”

  He went behind the bar and helped himself. A bourbon for him and a dry white wine for her. They clinked glasses and he resumed sitting opposite her but looked to the side so she couldn’t read his eyes.

  “I grew up in the shadow of my big brother. He’s perfect, too.”

  “O-oh.”

  “Yeah,” he smiled, “but I didn’t mind it. Sort of made me feel safe if you know what I mean. All the pressure off me, I could mess about, be a dick. It sort of stuck though. Everything people said about me became true.”

  “Such as?”

  “He’s a womaniser, a player, drinks too much, will no doubt fail.”

  “Who says you’ll fail?”

  “Him,” he said, taking back a drink of his bourbon.

  “The bastard who got you onto bourbon?”

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  She covered his hand with hers. “You think you’re the first Sinclair to come here?”

  Eyes wide, Dante looked right into hers. “What?”

  She smiled with a sober sadness, which was strange for someone who’d drunk several glasses of wine already tonight.

  “Before your uncle threw him out, he used to come here.”

  “You met him?”