“To be fair I probably outweighed him by a few pounds.” She darted a glance up at him from thick, sooty black lashes.
“I like your body,” he said. Too much.
They moved to a small bar area where cowgirls and cowboys intermingled.
“Dos añejos,” Clint said.
The bartender poured them two shots of the good stuff.
Anya pressed closer to Clint. Following her gaze, he saw Jana tied to a large wheel. She was naked and writhing in pleasure. Clint trailed his fingers down Anya’s side to rest on her ass. He bunched her dress up in his hand, remembering the small black panties she wore.
“Don’t try that at home,” he said as Dante tossed three daggers into the wheel by Jana’s head.
“Are those real?” Anya whispered.
He nodded. “Yeah, but Dante is a pro. He worked a few venues with my parents.”
“Your parents are into the club scene?”
Clint had to laugh at her tone. “No, they’re traveling entertainers. Carnival, not sex.” He repressed a shudder and shut down his mind before it went there. He pushed her shot toward her. She licked up the side of her thumb, not knowing how hard seeing that tongue made him. Sprinkling salt on it, Anya licked it again and slammed back the shot. She sucked on a lemon wedge.
He tossed his back, smiling at the burn of the alcohol down his throat. Her lips would be tart and if he kissed her right now they’d taste like tequila. He pictured that corset and those little black panties when she was astride him. Gesturing to the bartender for two more, he rested his hip against hers.
“So you never wanted to run away and join the circus when you were a little boy?”
She was adorable when she teased him, a dimple appearing on her cheek.
“You can only shovel so much elephant shit before the glamour fades.”
They watched as Dante spun the wheel and sank three more daggers into it, narrowly missing Jana.
“Notice he’s not aiming anywhere near her head or any major arteries when the wheel is in motion. I’m not saying he can’t miss, but if he does it’s a flesh wound more than a mortal injury. And Jana wouldn’t mind if he cut her a bit.”
Anya’s eyes grew wide.
Clint shrugged. “Different strokes for different folks. There isn’t a cookie-cutter response to sex. So based on your reaction, I guess cutting is out too.” He gave her a quick hug. “I’m just giving you shit. You’re more vanilla than you let on.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He almost got lost in her deep brown eyes.
“No,” he said, wishing he could find some common ground with her. “So let’s find out what turns you on,” he said. “We’ll bypass the spankings and canings.”
Anya winced. “I don’t mean to be such a wimp.”
He glanced around the open scene. “I know you don’t like to be watched, but what about watching?” Gesturing with his chin, he pointed out a cowgirl in a skimpy skirt, lassoing a cowboy wearing spurs and not much else.
“I get a little embarrassed,” she admitted.
“Is that why you ran away from me at the orgy last month?”
“So that was you,” she said, looking down into the second shot.
“I was hoping to have you sit on my lap and fuck me.” Clint was delighted to see her blush a deep red. “How do you talk dirty to all those people, and I can embarrass you with the F word?”
“It’s the distance thing,” she said. She did her ritual with the salt and lemon again. Her eyes opened wide. “Wow, that’s even better the second time around.”
He finished his. “Want another?”
“Nope, too much alcohol on an empty stomach will make this night end a lot quicker than I want it to.”
The words warmed him. Or maybe it was the tequila. He didn’t care. “Tell me about Vegas. Were you a showgirl?”
She shook her head. “No way. I’m not the right profile. Besides, I can’t kick that high. I was doing phone sex in Vegas.”
“You never said the F word?”
“I did. But you’d be surprised that the callers aren’t always looking for dirty talk. A lot of time it’s just kink.”
“I’m not surprised at all,” Clint said, indicating the dungeon. “There’s not a lot of sex here either.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Oh, it’s all sexual—don’t get me wrong. But most of the time, it’s more about control and kink. People feel safe to act out their fetishes because no one will judge them. That is more powerful and satisfying than actual penetration and sharing bodily fluids.”
Anya grimaced. “You make it sound so unromantic.”
“Do you want romance, sweetheart?” He trailed his fingers down her cheek.
“No way,” she said. “Not worth the heartache that comes when it’s all over.”
“Bad breakup?”
“The worst. He got married right after he dumped me. Then took a mistress.”
“Sounds like you dodged a bullet.”
Anya gestured to the wheel. “My whole life feels like that. Only whoever is throwing knives at me isn’t as skilled as Master Dante.”
Clint scowled. He didn’t like her using the deferential title for anyone but him. “Is Dante your master?”
“No, he just scares the crap out of me.”
Clint’s lips twitched. “You never played Dominatrix on your phone sex line?”
Anya scooted up onto the bar stool and crossed her legs. “I might have said the words ‘crawl to me, slave.’ But that’s different.”
“ ‘Crawl to me, slave’?” He would call up a sex line to hear her say that to him.
“There was just a disembodied voice on the other end of the phone. When you say it, it’s a real chick obeying you. In my class, all those people aren’t thinking about doing me. I’m not the center of attention. We just have a good time.”
An idea hit Clint that had his dick hardening even more. “I’ve got the perfect scene for us.”
“You still want to do a scene with me? Even after all my hard limits?”
“More than anything,” he said. “But you’re going to have to trust me.”
Anya angled her head and he tried not to preen under her intense scrutiny. “No one but you and I in the scene.”
“Absolutely.” He wasn’t going to share her.
“No pain. No humiliation. No extreme stuff.”
“Not a problem. Do you want to be more specific on the extreme stuff?”
Anya blushed again. “I think you have a good idea what I won’t like.”
“Deal.” He held out his hand.
“What do you get out of this?” she asked, shaking it with a firm grip.
“Same thing you do,” he said. “Now, come on. I won’t boss you around too much, but you are going to have to follow directions if this is going to work.”
Taking a deep, shaky breath, she nodded. “Let’s go.”
He pulled a silk blindfold out of his pocket.
“What else you got in there?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
“Feel free to put your hand in there to find out.” Clint wrapped the silk around her head and tied it securely. “Okay?” he asked.
Touching the blindfold, Anya said, “Yes. It’s not too tight.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and led her deeper through Club Inferno, past the public scenes and the semiprivate ones. Resisting the urge to pull aside a curtain and have Anya just listen to the sounds of pain and pleasure, he curbed his inner bastard and led her to his studio. Closing the door behind him, he hit the lights.
His camera was on the tripod, and he walked Anya over to the red X taped on the floor.
“I want you to stand here, very still. We’re going to do a role-play.”
“Okay.” She gave him a shy smile and he couldn’t resist a quick kiss on those lips. She did taste like tequila.
“Can I get you to shimmy out of that dress again?”
Nodding, Anya sh
rugged out of the red confection and it puddled at her feet. He helped her step away from it. When he bent down to pick it up, he kissed her thigh. She gasped and jumped a bit.
“Steady,” he said, sliding his body along hers as he stood up. “I’m going to hang this up so it doesn’t get wrinkled.” He kissed her creamy shoulder and tasted her neck again. “Beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. She tugged on her corset and covered herself with her hands. “Relax,” he whispered in her other ear. He liked how she shivered in anticipation.
After putting the dress on the coatrack, Clint went back to the equipment. He centered the camera so only her full, red lips were in the shot. His control board was next to the camera and he toggled on the sound effect of a ringing phone.
Anya startled again at the sound.
“You’re a phone sex operator,” Clint said. “Answer the phone.” He turned on the camera.
“Hello,” she said, a smile playing around those luscious lips.
Perfect.
“Hi, I’m Clint.”
The smile broadened. “Hi, Clint, what can I do for you today?”
“What are you wearing?”
“I have on a tight, black corset that’s pushing my tits together.” Her voice lowered and took on a husky note that made his cock twitch.
“That sounds nice. What else?” Easing open the button and zipper, he pulled off his pants and shoes while she talked.
“Lace panties. They’re black too.”
“You like the color black?”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured, and it was almost a moan. Man, she was sexy as hell.
“Go on.”
“I’ve got on a garter belt and silk stockings.”
“Can you keep those on when I fuck you?” he asked, peering into the camera.
“Oh yeah,” she said.
Clint zoomed out so her entire body was in the frame.
“How would you like to get fucked?” Adjusting the lights, he made the studio appear to have a smoky nightclub appearance. He turned a soft spotlight on her and tinted it with a hint of rose.
“Hard, fast, and…often.”
Clint grinned. He could do that.
“What would you do if I was in the room with you?” Making sure the camera was set, he moved around to her back, staying out of the shot for as long as he could.
“Anything you wanted.”
“Good answer,” he said in her ear. The lacings on her corset were tight. He loosened them a bit. “Tell me more.”
“I…” She hesitated as the corset slipped down. Swallowing hard, she went on. “I’d undo my corset and show you my tits.”
He tugged on the corset; it dropped to her waist and her breasts bounced out. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned her back a bit so they would be featured on camera for a moment.
“Can I touch them?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He moved in close, pressing his erection into her black panties. His hands cupped them, offered them to the camera. Rolling her nipples between his fingers, he trailed his tongue down the shell of her ear.
“What else can I do to them?”
“You could put your fat cock between them and fuck them.”
Clint bit down on her earlobe more sharply than he wanted, his vision hazed with desire.
“Ow,” she said with a laugh.
“Sorry,” he muttered, and sucked on it to make it better.
Her ass rubbed into his. “You like that idea? Does it make your cock hard?”
“Yeah,” he whispered in her ear. Her shiver felt delicious. “Would you like me to come all over those gorgeous tits and pretty neck?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice strained. His fingers plucked her nipples, then smoothed around her areolas. The skin puckered and a soft moan escaped her. “Or would you rather come down my throat?”
Clint rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Are you trying to kill me?”
A delighted laugh trickled out of her, only to be cut off when he ripped her panties off. He rubbed his cock against her lush, round ass. “Do you like to suck dick?”
“Yes.”
“If I handcuff you”—he brought her wrists together behind her back—“would you get on your knees and suck me off?”
“Depends,” the little minx said.
“On what?” Clint nudged her legs apart with his knee.
“If you go down on me first.”
“Deal.”
He stepped away from her and went back to the camera, switching it off while he set the next scene.
She tried to follow his movements, but he knew she couldn’t see what he was doing. He set a chair down at just the right spot, guided her down into the soft leather seat, and walked back to his equipment.
“Clint?” she asked.
“In a second,” he said. “I want you to let your knees fall open.”
He adjusted the camera’s focus so it took in her seated form. Crawling in front of the camera, Clint approached her on his hands and knees. Slithering up to her body, he kissed from her ankle up to her calf. He gave a quick lick on the back side of her knee and felt her quiver. He’d go back to that spot later. Shouldering her knee aside, he traced the outside of her labia with his finger. She gasped and tried to shut her legs but wound up just squeezing his chest.
“Now, my mouth is going to be busy for a few minutes. I’m going to need you to keep talking to me. Understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered again. He rewarded her by licking one long stroke inside her. “Oh, Clint. Yes.”
Placing her legs on his shoulders, he tongued her slit with short quick strokes, lapping at her hot, wet folds.
“Talk to me,” he reminded her, and concentrated, circling her clit.
“I…want you. I want to feel your…oh…hard…cock inside me. Clint!” Anya cried out. “More.” She gripped the back of his head and held him there.
Surprised by her boldness and aroused at her action, he gave her more. His tongue flickered and licked. He sucked on that quivering bud.
“Please,” she sobbed. “So close. Oh, don’t stop. I need you. Clint.”
He liked hearing her go crazy. She was so soft and responsive. Her little pants and moans were making him forget that he was filming. He wanted her on his cock, riding him, bouncing on him.
Patience, he told himself. If she wanted a one-night stand, she wasn’t getting one from him. He’d keep her coming back for more. If that meant he had to wait to sheathe his cock in that liquid heat, he would wait. Because he wasn’t giving up on her. Reaching up, he tugged her nipple and she responded by bucking into his face. Yeah, some soft nipple clips while she was on all fours would have her backing up on his cock. Shudders racked him as he increased the licking on her clit. He put two fingers inside her, and she clamped down on them.
“Fuck me,” she begged. “Just like that.”
“Oh no,” he said. “I’m much bigger than this.”
Too bad there wasn’t another person in here. He’d like to get a close up of her face as she came. Next time. Clint went for it, his tongue swirling around her heat. He couldn’t wait to edit this and watch her come.
“Mmmm,” he moaned into her core, and her thighs quivered.
“Don’t stop,” she begged.
He felt she was close in the jerky way her body moved.
“Clint,” she cried out, her body tensing. Her fingers tangled in his hair. Soft little sounds of pleasure caressed his ears.
He didn’t want to be done with her. She was so wet, so willing. He could put her on her back and be inside her before her next shuddering breath. He contented himself with hearing her little cries as he didn’t let up on her clit, until he got his raging hard-on under control.
Dinner or not, she’d see him tomorrow.
He eased away from her, kissing her thighs as he closed them.
“Clint?”
He retrieved her dress and helped her into it. “What did you think of your first sc
ene?”
“Wow,” she said. “Can I take the blindfold off?”
“Not yet.” He left her standing there for a moment while he turned off the camera and equipment. “Come on, I’ll walk you back up to your room.”
And it would be the hardest thing on earth to leave her tonight.
Chapter Eight
The phone was ringing.
Anya pulled the covers over her head.
The phone kept ringing.
She ignored it and concentrated on the nice dream where Clint did more than kiss her breathless and tell her to sleep well.
The phone stopped.
Oh, thank you.
It started again.
“What?” she snarled into the phone.
“What’s the scale say?” Trey asked.
“It says go to hell. I was sleeping.” Anya sat up and rubbed her eyes.
“Get up and tell me how you’re doing.”
Tossing the covers back, Anya considered dropping her cell in the toilet and letting him hear the flush. But not only did she need the phone, she was sure the phone would cut off before the sound effects would hit. Flicking on the bathroom light, she winced in the mirror. That crazy bedhead look she thought was so hot last night had taken on a life of its own. Hopefully, the leave-in conditioner would tame it. Touching the rats’ nest at the back, Anya rather doubted it. She’d also forgotten to take off her mascara last night. She looked like a demented raccoon.
“Well?”
“Can I call you back after I’ve woken up a bit?”
“No.”
“Don’t you have any other clients to bother?”
“The director is on my ass.”
She squinted at the clock. It was eight a.m. Damn it. She’d missed Clint at the pool. She had been hoping to convince him to hit the gym with her. Her stomach growled. After her breakfast of a chalky chocolate beverage, of course.
“How can he be on your ass? He’s not even up yet.”
“I like to be proactive.”
“Did you know Cesare was bankrolling this play?”
The silence on the line wasn’t a denial.
“He isn’t the one who’s demanding I lose weight?” Anya didn’t really believe it. He’d never complained about her curves, had even been enthusiastic about them.
“No, he doesn’t even know you’re up for the part. He’s pushing for Rita.”
Longing: Club Inferno Page 8