Dominate

by Amy Daws

  Belle and Indie laugh and high-five each other.

  “Guys!” Leslie bellows, standing up and holding her hands out wide. “I think you’re missing the best part of this situation!”

  “What’s that?” Vi asks, lowering her hands away from her ears.

  “We have the entire dance floor to ourselves!” she exclaims and gestures down to the fully lit floor. “We can dance like morons and not give a shit about embarrassing ourselves, which I’m highly familiar with!” Her eyes fly really wide as she points to the DJ booth. “We can request ‘Dancing Queen’ to be played on repeat all night long!”

  “Maybe not all night long,” Daphney says quietly, wincing with embarrassment.

  “Fine, Daph, you can request some young girl songs. Taylor Swift is your jam, right?”

  “That’s Gareth’s jam!” Vi shouts and bursts out laughing.

  My eyes land on hers. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

  Vi hunches over and hides her face, her contorted posture at complete odds with the fancy dress she’s wearing. “That’s supposed to be a secret!”

  “You have to tell us now!” Poppy sings, clearly as interested in Vi’s comment as I am.

  Vi sits up straight and exhales heavily. “Gareth warms up to Taylor Swift playing on his headphones, but he’d murder me if he knew I told you that!”

  We all burst out laughing so hard that I’m certain Poppy is going to go into spontaneous labour. The ammunition this little factoid gives me will be most useful indeed.

  Leslie suddenly pulls me in close and murmurs, “From one brooding man lover to another, be careful with that Taylor Swift card. If Gareth is anything like Theo, he will make you pay.”

  I laugh at her warning and shoot her a lascivious smirk. “Oh, believe me, I’m counting on it!”

  The girls all whoop with cheers as we head out and begin twirling the night away. Between Belle revealing her neon green panties when her curvy hips drop down to the floor and Indie repeatedly doing the robot, it’s actually one of the most fun nights I’ve had in years. These girls are the kind of fun-loving women I’ve needed in my life since moving to England. The only thing that would make this night complete is my fabulous Freya being here. But this group tonight gives me a sense of sisterhood I didn’t realise I was missing.

  Several hours and several more Tequila Sunrise drinks later, we stumble back to the leather sofas upstairs. Leslie crows loudly that she has a gift for Vi, then bends over behind the sofa and pulls out a giant, black gift bag.

  She plops the bag in front of Vi, who’s shaking her head adamantly. “I said no gifts, Lez!”

  Leslie pushes the gift closer to Vi. “This is a grab bag sort of gift. You can share it with the girls because Ameerah went a little overboard I’m afraid.”

  “Oh my God, Leslie!” Vi exclaims, her face the picture of horror. “You got this from Ameerah? I can’t open it here! No way!”

  “Yes, you can!” Leslie bellows back. “This is a bachelorette party and we have this entire club to ourselves for the night! And, like I said, there’s something in there for everyone. So just man up and do your bridal duty or you’ll deprive all of us of some fun later this evening.” Leslie winks at me and I frown, still not sure what the hell is in the black bag.

  With red cheeks, Vi proceeds to open a Pandora’s box of sex toys galore. A candy bra, penis suckers, various vibrators, floggers, feathers, nipple clamps, handcuffs, sensual oils, lubes, and lotions. You name it, it’s in that freaking bag.

  The girls laugh as they grab some items for a closer look. When Vi pulls out a giant pink dildo and clicks a button that makes it light up, the entire group erupts into hysterics.

  At the same exact moment, destiny plays a great hand.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a group of men standing at the entrance to our VIP section, jaws dropped, eyes wide.

  Camden, Tanner, Booker, Hayden, and a man in glasses who I can only assume is Leslie’s husband, Theo, are staring at Vi as she holds an enormous glowing, spinning dildo in her hand.

  I burst out laughing again and point behind the girls, who all turn to see what has me so shocked. They squeal with delight when they see the men who are moving in closer now.

  “Well, clearly you lot are having loads more fun than us!” Tanner bellows with a stunned look on his face as he eyes the sex toys strewn all around us. “Wife! What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Belle’s eyes fly wide as she stands up and turns to face her husband. “What do you have to say for yourself? We heard you guys rented out the entire club without our knowledge!”

  Surprise flicks across Tanner’s face as he takes in the empty club. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She growls and smacks him on the chest, but my eyes are distracted when Gareth’s face appears at the top of the stairs.

  Gareth doesn’t look at the dildo, or the sex toys, or the spectacle Tanner and Belle are making of themselves. He’s a tall, dark, and handsome storm with eyes only for me.

  My thighs clench together as he moves through everyone to stand right in front of me. He leans over top of me, caging me in on the couch and whispers in my ear, “Dance with me, Treacle.”

  I pull my head back to gaze into his dark, heated eyes. “Is that a command?”

  He looks down at my lips. “You’re fucking right it is.”

  With a gleeful smile, I take his hand, allowing him to pull me up off my seat. We stride down to the dance floor just as the music shifts into an erotic, slower song that pumps a deep bass through the speakers. The lights fade to yellow starry sprays that dance all around us. Gareth moves my arms up to his neck and pulls me against his hard body.

  He nuzzles my neck, his lips soft on my skin when he whispers, “I couldn’t get here fast enough.”

  I have to inhale deeply to get my libido in check so I can form coherent sentences. “Where were you?”

  “Some rubbish pub,” he murmurs, pushing my hair off my shoulder and dragging his lips up to my ear. “And all I could think about was that I rented out this whole bloody club and I wasn’t even going to get to enjoy it.”

  “It was you!” I exclaim, pushing away from him, my eyes wide.

  He doesn’t remotely attempt to conceal the proud smirk on his face.

  I give his shoulders a shove. “Gareth! The girls are raging at Camden and Tanner because they think they did it.”

  He shrugs. “It was their idea. I just pulled the trigger and did it under their names.”

  His body shakes with laughter as we look over and see the girls still arguing with the boys.

  “They’re fighting because of you.”

  “They’ll be fine in a minute.” He licks his lips and eyes my mouth. “I’m not sorry. I just got you to myself, Sloan. I’m not ready to share you with anyone else.”

  “I wouldn’t have done anything other than dance,” I argue, surprised by how good it feels to have him so protective of me.

  “Exactly,” he replies, looking down at my body. “Have you seen yourself tonight? You look fucking fantastic. I wasn’t about to let you out in a foreign country with a bunch of people I don’t know.”

  “This is a five-star resort.” I roll my eyes half-heartedly. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I’m taking care of what’s mine.” He tightens his grip around my waist and pulls my pelvis to his.

  Tummy flips. Loads and loads of tummy flips. So many freaking tummy flips, I can barely breathe.

  I wrap myself around him again, laying my head on his shoulder and reviewing all that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. From the flight, to the dinner from Hell, to the wake, to tonight. It’s a rollercoaster I don’t know if I ever want to get off of.

  “Have you been having a good time?” Gareth asks and drops a kiss on my bare shoulder as his fingers run up and down the exposed skin on my back.

  I lift my head and nod. “Yes, really good actually. I mean, I already love Vi
and the other girls, but I really connected with Leslie tonight.”

  “Theo’s wife?” Gareth asks, his brow furrowing in surprise.

  “Yes. She’s American and a designer. We have loads in common.”

  “You’re both mothers, too,” he states knowingly.

  “Yeah,” I reply, chewing my lip thoughtfully. “I don’t really have any mommy friends.”

  “Well, you have Vi. Soon you’ll have Poppy.”

  His statement catches me off guard. “Already seeing our future together, Harris?”

  “Of course,” he replies quickly. “Aren’t you?”

  I nod slowly, looking at every serious, sombre feature on his face. “I’m starting to.”

  Without another word, Gareth takes my mouth in a long, languid kiss. It’s sensual and deep. Soft and wonderful. It’s so wonderful, it makes sacrificing time with Sophia seem worth it for this chance at my own happiness.

  Suddenly, we’re bumped into as the rest of the crew joins us on the dance floor, catcalling and whistling at our public display of affection. Gareth doesn’t stop smiling the entire time, the smug asshole.

  A couple of drinks and several songs later, I’m leaving the restroom after freshening up my lipstick when Vi and Leslie stumble around the corner.

  “Sloan!” Leslie squeals excitedly, clutching the black gift bag from earlier and gesturing to Vi. “Quick, Vilma, pick something out for Sloan.”

  Vi hiccups and rifles through the bag. “It’s so weird giving my brothers’ partners sex toys.”

  “Well, Adrienne doesn’t get cousins unless those boys procreate.”

  Vi’s eyes fly wide. “Good point, Leslie. That is why they love you so much at the office. You’re a big picture thinker.”

  Vi giggles as she digs down to the bottom of the bag. “I’m like a sex Santa, and I know you’re fucking my brother and this is weird, but I’m drunk and I hopefully won’t remember this in the morning. Here.”

  I look down as she hands me a set of crystal-encrusted handcuffs with a really long chain linking them together.

  “Really?” I laugh and hold them out to examine. “Something about me screams, ‘Lock her up?’”

  Vi shakes her head from side-to-side. “No! My brother is the one who needs to be controlled. He’s completely overpowering. He’s wonderful, but he’s a lot. I have a feeling you’re going to need these at some point in your relationship.”

  Oh, Vi. Sweet, sweet little sister. If you only knew.

  Without another word, she stumbles into the bathroom with an equally tipsy Leslie. Biting my lip, I slip her gift into my purse and ponder whether or not I want to show them to Gareth.

  I’m just getting them tucked away when a large pair of warm arms wrap around me from behind. The manly musk of Gareth invades all of my senses as I turn around and look up at him. “Where did you come from?”

  He gestures behind him. “The loo, but I’m more interested in where we’re going.”

  My brows lift. “Are you ready to go?”

  He nods seriously, moving me so my back is pressed up against the wall. “Are you ready to go?” he asks me in turn, hovering over my lips with a hungry, possessive look in his eyes.

  “That depends,” I husk, pulling my lower lip into my mouth teasingly.

  “Depends on what?” he nearly growls in a warning tone as his gaze flicks back and forth between my mouth and my eyes.

  My tone is deathly serious when I reply, “On whether or not you’ll admit to listening to Taylor Swift on the soccer field.”

  His entire body goes stiff against mine and not in the delicious, “We’re about to get it on” sort of way.

  “Excuse me?” he asks, his tone far different than it was a moment ago.

  I try to maintain my composure—really I do—but I can’t help it. I burst into giggles and drop my head onto his chest. Mumbling into his shirt, I reply, “We all know the truth.”

  He pulls back from me, crooking his hand under my chin so I have to look at him. “What truth is that?”

  I lose all humour in an instant. “That you’re a nightmare dressed like a daydream.”

  “That’s it,” he growls and in one swift move, he throws me over his shoulder. “You’re going to pay for this, Treacle.”

  “Gareth!” I shriek, my hands fumbling to not drop my purse as I grapple for purchase on his back. “Put me down!”

  “No,” he replies flatly and smacks me hard on the ass. “You’ve been a bad girl.”

  “Gareth!” I squeal with laughter, then smack him on the ass right back just as Vi and Leslie come out of the bathroom and stare down the hallway at us.

  “Vi, talk some sense into your brother!” I beg, pushing my hair away from my face so I can see them more clearly.

  Gareth pauses and turns to lay eyes on his sister. “Vi, I’ll be dealing with you later. I don’t care if it’s your wedding day or not.”

  “What did I do?” she asks, her eyes wide and wondering.

  “You told her I am a Swiftie!” he growls and swerves back to head toward the staircase that leads to the club exit.

  “I never called you a Swiftie!” Vi laughs as she runs after us, yelling loud enough for their brothers to hear from their spots on the sofas.

  “Gareth’s secret is out,” Tanner mumbles and stretches his arms over the back of the sofa like it’s a normal Tuesday.

  “It wasn’t a well-kept secret, was it?” Camden asks, completely serious.

  “I never told a soul!” Booker exclaims, clearly taking this way more seriously than the rest of us.

  Vi rushes up to stop her brother at the steps. “I swear, Gareth. I only told her you warm up to Taylor Swift. What’s the big deal?”

  He pauses and suddenly decides to lower me to the floor, but I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. He points a finger at his sister’s face. “Who else have you told?”

  “No one!” she retorts and her cheeks instantly flame red. Holy shit, Vi is a bad liar. “A few people.”

  “Who?”

  “Just…like…everyone here, pretty much.”

  Gareth’s face distorts in anger as he visibly grows taller in front of her. Vi winces and looks to her other brothers for help, but they’re now on one sofa, playfully eating pretend popcorn and enjoying the show. Tanner actually passes an invisible bag to Booker and Booker refuses. It’s quite a sight.

  “Gareth,” I state his name calmly and move to step in between him and Vi. “Don’t get mad at your sister. I was probably going to find out eventually, right?”

  He pins me with an unimpressed look. “I would have taken that to my grave.”

  He’s full-on pouting as he leans against the railing and ignores his sister’s pleading. How can a huge, beast of a man being Taylor Swift’s number one fan be this freaking sexy?

  I gesture with my head for Vi to go join the others. I have a feeling I know exactly what will calm Gareth down. I reach up and run my nails along his shoulders in hard, smooth strokes while leaning in and whispering in his ear, “What if I told you I have something in my bag that you can use on me tonight that will get you your man card back really quick?”

  He frowns down at me as I carefully open my bag to show him what’s inside. His brows lift. “I’d say you love this game even more than I do.”

  I frown back at him, then it dawns on me. “Those are Taylor Swift lyrics, aren’t they?”

  A smile splits across his face. “Now who’s the Swiftie?” And in one swift move, my manly Swiftie grabs my hand and hauls me out of the club.

  Twenty minutes later, Taylor Swift is the absolute last thing on my mind as I lie spread out on the bed, completely naked. My hands are cuffed to a metal headboard and my legs squirm against each other as I wait impatiently for Gareth to come out of the bathroom.

  He stripped me down to nothing and handcuffed me to the centre railing at the head of the bed while he remained fully clothed. He was definitely punishing me and, damn, it felt e
xciting. But now he’s taking so long in the bathroom, I wonder if he’s getting cold feet.

  When he walks out shirtless and barefoot but still in his jeans, I instantly notice his determined face from earlier has vanished.

  “Gareth, what’s wrong?” I ask, lifting my head off the pillow to look at him.

  “I’m not sure I can do this, Sloan.” He swallows slowly, his eyes drifting down my body with a forlorn look on his face.

  I smile playfully. “Do what? We haven’t done anything yet.”

  He drags his teeth over his lower lip and replies, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.”

  “What if I do?”

  I exhale and spread my legs. “Then I’ll tell you to stop.”

  The dubious look on his face shows me that he’s still not convinced, but the heat in his eyes as he stares at my centre is at odds with that expression.

  An idea comes to mind that might help him feel more comfortable. “Look in my purse. There’s a feather that I think Leslie shoved in there at the club.”

  “A feather?” he asks, his tone curious as he finds my bag and pulls out a black feather that’s attached to a black rubber stick.

  “Start with that,” I urge. “Do something small, then you’ll feel brave enough to try more. It’s similar to what I did with you when I measured you for a suit.”

  “You were a fucking goddess that night,” he replies as he walks toward me. He trails the feather over the top of my foot, and I instantly recoil with a sharp inhale.

  His eyes flash up to mine. “Do you like that?”

  I nod, goosebumps erupting all over my body as my legs close and rub together with need.

  Feeling encouraged, he gradually moves the feather up over my knee and stops at my hip. “How about that?”

  I groan softly, my eyes closing because watching him watch me is another form of torture, and I can only handle one thing right now.

  “Eyes on me, Treacle,” he husks, his voice deep and gravelly.

  I open them and stare up at him. The light hair on his chest, the lines of his hips, the way his jeans hang low around them. Good God, he’s sexy.