The music reached a crescendo and Clint slid down the pole in a perfect split. Anya clapped with the rest of the crowd. How he hadn’t torn those tight leather pants, she’d never know. Whistling and cheering, the crowd quieted as the lights came on.
“That’s one way to approach the pole. Women are going to use their arms and legs and twirl around it. Men are going to use it more as a prop. You want your audience to visualize themselves as a pole. I’m going to bring up my lovely assistant Leila. She’s going to show you her way.” Clint gestured and a dainty woman with short red hair approached the pole.
The room went black again. This time there was more of a muted response. Anya heard clothes rustling and the wet sounds of kissing. The music started, a funky beat that had her tapping her foot. The spotlight came on Leila, and she started to dance. Lithe and graceful, she defied gravity. Anya was shaking her head in disbelief when the door opened next to her and Clint eased in from the back. He knew exactly where she was standing, and he sidled over to her.
“Enjoying the class?” he asked in her ear.
She nodded and he scooted in behind her and pulled her against him.
“What are you doing?” she whispered back.
Clint put his arm around her waist and tugged her back against him. His other hand cupped her face and pointed her chin forward. Leaning in so his mouth was inches from her ear, he spoke in a low husky voice.
“I got my kiss. You get your story. It’s only fair.”
“Now?” Anya’s whole body reacted. Her nipples hardened. Her thighs clenched together. Her hands went over his.
“Relax.” He chuckled. “No one is watching us. They can’t hear me over the music. I could slip my hand down your pants and get you off.” His hand dipped lower. She clutched it. “And no one would even notice.”
“Clint,” she gasped. She was acutely aware of the people standing next to her and in front of them. True, they weren’t paying Clint and Anya the least bit of attention, and in the darkness they would have had to be looking right at them instead of at Leila’s theatrics.
He nipped at her earlobe. “Don’t panic. Just listen to my voice and watch Leila dance. Do you want me to call you up and demonstrate some of the moves?”
He tilted her head back so he could hear her response.
“I thought you said not to panic.” Anya tried to turn her head, but he held her in a tight grasp. “I’ll kill you if you make me go up there.”
He laughed again. “Okay, that sounds like a hard limit. I should press my advantage. If you come for me during my story, I won’t call you up.”
“I’ll walk out,” she vowed.
“Anya.” He kissed her neck. “Do you want me to stop? Truly?” His arms hugged her. But her heart was beating fast in fear instead of lust.
“I’m not getting up on that stage,” she said. The thought of everyone looking at her made her ill. It wasn’t like modeling. She was a moving clothes hanger—even when she was in underwear or a bathing suit. It was no big deal. There was nothing sexual about it. No one was looking at her when she modeled. They were looking at the clothes. Here? They’d be looking at her. Rita would be judging every bit of cellulite, every piece of jiggling flesh. “No way.”
“Okay,” he said, bemusement in his tone. “What about the part where I said I would make you come with all these people around?”
“I’m halfway there already,” she admitted. “After watching you dance.”
He groaned and the husky echo in her ear shook her a little closer to paradise.
“You’re amazing up there,” she said.
Pulling her back against his hips, his erection poked at her through his pants. “I’m amazing right here too.”
“Conceited,” she said with a little sigh.
“Confident.” He stroked her cheek with his finger. “You’re beautiful. Can you see how much I want you?”
It was hard not to. “Hard” being the operative word. “I thought those were leather,” she said. “It’s too thin to be leather.” Anya rested back, liking the feel of his body against hers.
“They come off very easily. Just grab the sides and yank.” He kissed down her neck. “You can pull them off now, but I’m going to fuck you if you do.”
Anya trembled as her hands went to either side of his pants and gripped.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, licking at the shell of her ear. “Are you playing with fire?”
Anya nodded. “You were going to tell me a story?”
Leila’s dance turned more burlesque, and unlike Clint, she began to strip. Anya’s eyes unfocused as Clint’s hand dropped from her chin and dipped under the top of her shirt.
“You were teasing me with this today,” he said, his fingers sliding under her bra to capture her nipple.
Anya rubbed her hips against his erection and leaned her head back. “Yeah,” she breathed, hearing the music but feeling each touch of Clint’s like they were alone instead of in a crowd.
“I was in New York making my way doing odd jobs in between dance auditions,” Clint said, his hips swaying into hers in time with the music. “I came to the attention of Mistress Claire.”
A breathless sigh escaped her lips. His voice was hot and sexy in her ear. She wanted tongues and kisses, but her back was plastered to him.
“We worked some dungeons together when I was getting started. I stripped for her and my costume was a billionaire. I was in the full three-piece suit.”
Picturing it, Anya let her hips grind against his in time to the music. She liked the wicked feeling of fooling around in public. The darkness was safe enough—not too obvious, but hidden enough for a little thrill.
“When I was naked, she told me to lie down on my back.”
Anya closed her eyes and pictured it. Only she was the mistress and Clint was laid out for her to enjoy. Her clothes felt too tight. His hand on her breast wasn’t enough. He needed to be closer.
“She straddled my cock.”
Anya let out a soft moan.
The hand that was not engaged on her nipple moved to her hips and held her tight while he thrust against her a few times. Anya widened her stance and he dipped his hips so he connected between her thighs.
Swallowing her groan, she bent over slightly. Clint rubbed himself against her before yanking her upright. This time both his hands were under her shirt. He made short work of her bra and massaged her breasts.
“More,” she said, trying to turn in his arms, but he tightened his grip and pulled her back close to him.
“She put the tie back around my neck and tightened it.”
His fingers plucked at her peaked nipples, which were turgid and sensitive. Anya moved her head to try to kiss him, but he held her there, tormenting her. She turned and reached up to grab his head and he whirled with her. Her back slammed against the wall as his body pressed her against it. He kissed her deeply, their tongues clashing and lips sucking. Anya’s head was spinning. She needed to touch him. Her hands dropped to the waistband of his pants. His hands dropped to hers.
A screech from the crowd brought her back to her senses, and she panicked. Hands back on his shoulders, Anya looked around. The crowd was cheering for whatever Leila was doing. Clint wasn’t distracted. He nipped at her throat and continued his hot kisses at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Unzipping her jeans, he pushed his fingers inside her panties.
“Yes, just like that,” she said as he tickled up inside her. She widened her stance to give him better access. “Clint,” she moaned as he left her throat to place another blistering kiss on her lips.
“So as I was bucking into her,” he said in between kisses, “the noose around my neck grew tighter.” His flicked his fingers over wet folds.
Anya’s eyes nearly crossed with pleasure. “Don’t stop,” she begged, each little touch a torment of ecstasy.
“I couldn’t breathe.”
He stared at her now, holding her gaze.
“My cock grew h
arder. The pleasure was so intense. I wanted her to tighten it more.”
He had her clit now and was rubbing it like they were in a race. Grasping at the back of his head, she pulled him in for another one of his deep kisses and screamed into his mouth when the pressure built up and she shivered and quaked on his fingers. The crowd was clapping and the lights came on.
“Thank you,” Leila said.
Clint wrenched his mouth away. “I’ve gotta go,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Anya nodded. “What happened with the tie noose?”
“Later.” He kissed her again and darted out the door. Anya strove to get her breathing back under control, while Leila called a few volunteers to the stage to practice some of the basic moves. Dazed, she could only gulp breaths and come to terms with the fact that Clint had given her an incredible public orgasm. Feeling her face heat up, she eyed the people on either side of her. They were more interested in Leila, who Anya had just noticed was stark naked except for her piercings.
“Wow,” she breathed, but it was more for Clint than Leila.
Realizing her bra and pants were undone, Anya fixed herself as discreetly as she could. When she looked up, Rita was glaring at her with narrowed eyes.
“What?” Anya mouthed.
Chapter Six
Anya wobbled back to her room on shaky knees and lay down on her bed. That was the most sex she’d had since Cesare, and it was good enough to put a goofy smile on her face. She wasn’t sure where tonight was going to take her, but she was definitely going to shove some condoms in her purse. Did one even take a purse into the dungeon?
She had glided through the dungeon a few times, more content to watch and blush than be an active participant. Anya liked the clothing-required events more than the clothing optional. She loved to dance and couldn’t wait to rock out this weekend with Switchblade. Speaking of which, she called Colleen.
“Are you still pissed at me?” Had it only been this morning when she called her all frantic about Istvahn?
“No. Thanks for being there for Tee.” Colleen’s voice was lowered.
“It was quite an adventure.” Anya stifled a yawn. If she was going to be up to anything tonight, she probably should take a nap. “I take it she told you.”
“Yes, and handed in her resignation.”
Anya bolted up to a sitting position. “You can’t accept it.”
“I didn’t,” Colleen assured her.
Sinking back to the bed, Anya sighed. “That’s good.”
“I told her I wouldn’t say anything to Istvahn. We’ll work it out. She didn’t really want to leave. And I’d be lost without her.”
“So a baby,” Anya said, smiling.
“That’s a new thing.” Colleen’s voice was light, but Anya could sense the sadness underneath the tone.
“Maybe you should get knocked up too. For solidarity.”
“Not funny,” Colleen said with a trace of a smile.
“We could interview baby daddy candidates in Club Inferno.”
“Do you want me to hang up on you again?”
Anya’s stomach growled. Rubbing it, she realized that she hadn’t eaten since the little salad this afternoon. She squinted at the clock; she’d be better off with a nap and a meal replacement drink. Groaning, she went to the mini fridge.
“What’s your problem?” Colleen asked.
“Chocolate or vanilla?”
“I never do vanilla,” Colleen said. “What are we talking about?”
“Dinner.”
Anya popped the top and chugged it. It wasn’t so nasty if you did it in one gulp.
“I hope you’re talking about Godiva and not Skinny Quick.”
Shuddering from the chalky taste, Anya tossed it in the trash can. “I’ve got a line on a Broadway part, but I’ve got to drop some weight.”
“Oh bullshit,” Colleen said. “Unless you’re playing Fantine you’re fine the way you are.”
“I’m actually going for a part Marilyn Monroe played.”
“Well, there you have it. You’re the same size as she was.”
Anya kicked off her shoes and went to the bathroom scale. “Actually, the sizes were bigger then, so I’m close, but she still was a few sizes below me.”
“Oh, who gives a shit?”
“The director.”
Anya frowned at the number on the scale. It hadn’t budged, but then again she was wearing clothes. And you’re always lighter in the morning, so…Anya closed her eyes and calculated. She was probably down five pounds.
“What are we going to do about Istvahn?” Colleen interrupted her thoughts.
“Tee has to be the one to tell him. But she’s not going to do that until he either confesses his love for her nonpregnant self, or it becomes way too obvious. I’m still cooking up a plan, but I think he’s a little possessive and jealous of her.”
“Istvahn?” Colleen stage-whispered. “Are we talking about the same man?”
“Hear me out. Maybe we should play matchmaker and see if that forces his hand.”
“This has all the ingredients of a recipe for disaster.”
“Does Nefertiti ever go into the dungeon?”
Colleen sighed. “I guess. I don’t make it a point of tracking my employees’ whereabouts if they’re not working, but yeah, I’m sure she does.”
“So maybe she can hang a bit and see if Istvahn makes a move.”
“Well, it’s worth a shot, I suppose. I’ll run it by her.”
“I’m heading down there tonight.”
“Oh really.” Colleen drawled the last word out. “Who are you meeting there?”
“Clint Reyes.”
“Not another one of my Doms.”
“What are you talking about? He’s my first—unless you count some flirting with Master Dante.”
“You call Dante ‘Master’?”
“Everybody does.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s because you’re his master.”
“He’d disagree with that statement.” Colleen gave a husky chuckle. “But we’ve had discussions together.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?”
“Anyway…” Colleen cleared her throat. “How serious is it between you two?”
“This is our first date. Wait, maybe second.” If a guy got you off, that probably should count as a date.
“Uh-huh. Is this going to be a fling, or am I going to have to start interviewing another Dom?”
“Jesus, Colleen, I’ll make sure he gives two weeks’ notice.” Anya rolled her eyes. “Besides, I’m secure when I’m in a relationship. He can strip and dance all he wants, just as long as he doesn’t touch.”
“He doesn’t just teach a class on pole dancing,” Colleen said. “He fulfills a kink for some of my clients.”
“What type of kink?” Anya wasn’t sure if that tingling feeling was alarm or desire.
“I’ll let him explain it to you. Just remember to have the talk with him first.”
“What talk is that?”
“He’ll probably go over it, but make sure you tell him your hard limits. He’ll stick to them or I’ll kick his ass.”
“Whoa,” Anya said. “I’m not going to be his sub, I just want to bone him. Speaking of which, I need that corset dress.”
“Well, be careful. Did you talk to Marisol?”
“I forgot,” she admitted.
“Then you’re shit out of luck.”
“What am I supposed to wear tonight?”
“It’s not like you’re going to be dressed for very long. Wear something sexy that’s easy to get out of in a hurry.”
Anya rolled her eyes. “You’re a big help.”
“Clint’s a player,” Colleen said after a thoughtful pause.
“What do you mean? He seems so sweet.”
“Maybe he’ll be sweet for you. His specialty is playing games. Just make sure you know you’re playing a game.”
“He said it was game night tonight. Is that a euphemism for something kinky I haven’t heard about yet?”
“It’s role-play night, so there will be costumes and fantasy fulfillment.”
Anya thought back. “Like a crazy billionaire BDSM-ing a flighty ingénue?”
“If that’s your thing,” Colleen said. “It’s been very popular.”
“Clint plays the billionaire?”
“Sometimes he plays the ingénue.” Colleen laughed. “Whatever kink the customer wants to follow.”
“Does he sleep with the women or just play a game with them?” Anya was suddenly wondering if she should be so excited about tonight. Maybe she was one in a crowd, the new thing he hadn’t slept with yet. The disappointment hit her. Maybe he really wasn’t interested in her.
“Every submissive is different. You’ll have to ask him.”
Anya heard her crack open a soda.
“He’s clean, though. All my Doms are. No one plays without a clean bill of health.”
“I know that,” Anya said. “You made me get a bunch of tests.”
“So that’s one less thing to worry about.”
“It all sounds so unromantic.”
“Are you in it for the romance, or are you in it for the sex?” Colleen asked.
“Sex,” Anya said. “I don’t have time for that love bullshit.” Anya’s heart ached with a different tune, but she ignored it. It was too fragile of an organ for her to risk again. “Oh, speaking of which, thanks a bunch for letting Rita Lewis try out for a membership.”
“Who the crap is Rita Lewis?”
“The devil.” Anya made horns with her fingers and stabbed them in the air.
“I must have missed the memo.”
“Seriously, she’s evil.”
“Are we talking the kicking-puppies type of evil or robbing banks?”
“She’s sleeping with Cesare.”
Colleen barked out a laugh. “Oh, honey, that’s its own punishment.”
Anya couldn’t stop a grin. “Well, she’s also lost a ton of weight.”
Longing: Club Inferno Page 6