Their lover groans, but he strips off his shirt and rolls his shoulders before placing his forearms together behind his back.
Eager, much? I chuckle under my breath.
I slide my attention surreptitiously towards Sasha. Her eyes are wide and her lips are parted, with the tip of her tongue peeking at the corner. Pink and curious.
Her head twitches in my direction, and her eyes flare even wider.
Shit.
She twists away and heads to the self-service bar as Beth drops to her knees in front of Hugh. “You were about to tie me up, I believe.”
That’ll hold everyone’s attention.
I follow Sasha.
She snags a bottle of water and keeps going, but she doesn’t hit the stairs to go back to the main floor.
Instead she stalks down a hallway I haven’t explored yet. It leads to a quiet room that is currently empty, but from the bookshelves half-assembled along one wall, and a couch still wrapped in plastic, I’m guessing this is will be a library.
I have no doubt at some point in the near future I’ll watch someone get railed against a wall of books, begging for release from their professor or naughty teacher.
I get hard just thinking about it.
9
Sasha
Coming here was a mistake. When Ellie called, I thought I could handle seeing Tate, but the truth is he brings up way too many feelings I can’t control.
If only all of them were negative.
He leans against the door frame, taking up way too much space in this dark, intimate corner of the house. “What are you doing here, Sasha?”
“Ellie wanted to come and check this place out before strangers had access to it.” It sounds weak to my own ears now. I wanted to show you I don’t need you. And I don’t.
“I didn’t think this was your scene.” The room is lit only by some dimmed pot lights in the corners, and his eyes glitter under the shadow of his pulled-tight brow.
“I don’t know what my scene is.”
His jaw flexes.
He could help me figure that out. He came by my place yesterday with pretty much that exact offer. No strings, just sex.
And I turned him down.
I’ll do it again, too. Tate is not the man for me to explore my sexuality with. “Go back to your fun,” I snap.
“I don’t want to,” he says silkily, and the rest of that pout is clear as a bell. It’s not fun now that you’re here to be a burr in my side. “You missed dinner.”
“Yeah, we decided at the last minute to come out here. It’s fine.” Ellie ate before we left, because her pregnancy has her eating dinner at five like a senior citizen. She’ll probably stop for a bedtime snack on the way home, too.
“Do you want to get out of here? We could go into the city.”
I laugh. “I just got here. Why would I want to leave?”
His jaw tightens again, this time the hard cut below his cheekbone holding for a few beats before he relaxes. “I don’t know. It was just an idea. I keep forgetting that you don’t like me.”
I turn my back on him. Let it go, I tell myself. He’s not going to care or learn.
But then there’s the part of me that always wants to be right. I hate that part. I take a deep breath, then look back at him.
Big, brawny. Stupid.
Stupidly hot, too.
I hate my ovaries for how they flutter in his presence.
“It’s not you, okay? It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s not personal.”
He huffs a laugh and uncrosses his arms, swinging his jacket back as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. He makes jeans and a blazer look criminally good. “You’ve put your claw marks in my back, Sasha. I’ve been inside your body. It sure feels personal.”
Heat slams into me. Yeah, he’s been inside me. And it was the best and worst decision of my life, because I can never forget how good that day was.
“What do you want me to say? Nobody will ever compare to you? You rocked my world?”
He prowls closer. “We both know I did. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat, because I like your fire.”
I can’t breathe. I move backwards and bump into a piece of furniture covered in plastic. I look down. A couch. And when I look back up, Tate is right in front of me. Even bigger and brawnier than he looked across the room.
A visceral, hungry memory crawls up my insides. The way he felt on top of me. His weight. The aching press of his cock inside me as he pushed me into the bed.
It’s just too damn bad that outside the bedroom, he ticks every single item on my no-go list.
Celebrity.
Wealthy.
Cocky.
“I’m not interested in your money. Don’t ever try to impress me with a fancy dinner or anything like that.”
He gives me a hard look, like he can see inside my head and he knows I’m thinking uncharitable thoughts about him right now. Too bad they war something fierce with filthy thoughts, too. “Fine.”
“You shouldn’t toss your money around for anyone else, either.”
“That’s none of your business.”
I nod. “I know.”
His jaw flexes again. “Maybe I’m just a generous guy.”
“No. You’re wasteful. You do stupid things like employ grown men who are otherwise unemployable because they have gigantic cases of loser-itis.”
“Whoa, what are you talking about?”
“Your hangers-on.” The same group of them are here tonight as were at the holiday play party at Max’s house. It’s ridiculous. And I’ve read about them since, in blogs, but that knowledge verges on inappropriate stalking, and I’ve probably said too much as it is.
Except Tate has never met a barb he can’t top, and it’s on. “They’re called friends, and they’re my most trusted support system. Novel concept for you?”
I snort. “Try another insult.”
“You’ve had your nose stuck in a book too long, baby. You don’t know a good thing when he’s standing right in front of you.”
“When a good thing is standing right in front of me,” I purr, “I take full advantage of the rare opportunity and ride it for all it’s worth. I’ll let you know when that happens.”
“I was just offering to take you out for dinner. How you turned that into back and forth sparring—”
“You were offering to buy me food before you asked me for a blow job,” I snarl, stepping right into his personal space. “Totally transparent and uncool.”
He smirks down at me. “Maybe I just want you fed before I crawl between your luscious thighs and make you come on my tongue. Gotta keep your energy up. But it’s fine. You don’t want my mouth on your pussy, that’s your loss.” His gaze drops to my dress. “Or my hand up your skirt as you watch people get spanked.”
“Is that what you thought?” My words slam out of me in hot, offended whispers. “You thought I’d let you touch me here? In front of people?”
“Not in front of anyone. At the back of the room, when everyone’s attention is elsewhere.” He leans all the way in, until the heat radiating off his body is pulsing against my skin and his mouth is right beside my ear. “You’d come so hard on my hand, you’d have to bite me for a change. Just to keep your pretty little mouth quiet.”
I squeak in outrage as his breath brushes against my cheek, and then he’s gone, turning and stalking out of the room before I can get a retort in.
10
Tate
I can feel her glare against my back as I storm away.
She makes me so crazy. I have a nearly irresistible urge to spin around, slam that door, and let her shove me against the wall until this tension between us finally evaporates.
Did she even know she was licking her lips as she dressed me down? The last time she did that, I had her on her knees. That’s not happening tonight.
Fuck, her mouth. I smirk at myself, because that’s exactly what I’d like to do. Fuck her mouth. Her cunt. Her ass, if she wanted…because I sure as he
ll do. Even mad as I am, that thought makes things twitch hard for me.
I want to shake Sasha loose from whatever hangups she has about me as a person—because fucking hell, that doesn’t matter—and find a way to scratch our mutual itch again.
But wanting doesn’t make things happen.
It’s a waste of energy now.
So. Fine.
I lean against a pillar near the back of the main room and take stock of where everyone else is at.
Lachlan is bent over the spanking bench, and Beth is torturing his ass. Hugh is on the other side, crouched in front of him, and he’s laughing about something. I love how casual they all are about the dominance and submission in their relationship—since it’s something they live every day, with Hugh being a bossy, demanding motherfucker and Lachlan naturally wanting to serve both of his partners, they have a lot more fun with it than people who are high-protocol.
They’re my kind of people, for sure.
But I like watching people who are more rigid in their expectations, too. There’s something beautiful about the formality in which someone like Corinne submits to a master.
Tonight, apparently, that’s Reid.
Corinne has stripped down to a black sports bra and boy shorts, and she’s standing at docile readiness in front of the St. Andrew’s Cross.
Reid is taking his time preparing the scene. He keeps stopping in front of her and checking in, which is good communication from a first-time play partner, but it’s more than that—
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sasha return.
That damn skirt interrupts my thoughts about Reid and Corinne. The colourful silk pieces swing hypnotically, baring teasing slices of thigh. By the time I drag my attention up Sasha’s body, she’s noticed that I’m looking at her.
It’s a free country.
I glare at her, daring her to pick another fight.
Maybe it’s not just the skirt which has distracted me.
I make no apologies for how I live my life. I work hard and I play hard. But I try to be a decent person, and I’m generally drawn to other similarly decent people.
I know that Sasha is kind. She’s a good friend, and crazy smart. I’ve seen that in glimpses here and there, even though she’d never toot her own horn.
But when it comes to me, it doesn’t take much to fire her up.
We’re like oil and water.
I want to know why.
I’m not chasing her again. But I hold her gaze and make it clear from my body language that she’s welcome to join me.
She takes her time making that decision. She looks around the room before warily approaching and leaning against the opposite side of the pillar.
“I won’t bite,” I murmur, and her cheeks flush.
“I’d rather you bite than talk.” She says it under her breath and I almost miss it.
We’re not so different when it comes to sex. It’s just all the other stuff we clash on.
“I don’t know why it has to be one or the other.”
The corner of her mouth flexes up in an almost smile and she turns her attention to where Reid is flogging Corinne. “It’s kind of weird that everyone I know comes here and fucks in front of each other.”
“Not everyone.”
“Enough of them.”
“You know, some people value that kind of friendship, that kind of openness.”
“Some people?”
“Me, for one.” I wait for her to give me a surprised look, and I smile gently. “I know you’re still sorting out what you like and what you’re into, but this…?” I gesture around the dungeon. “This is important to me. Judge with caution.”
“Point made. I’m not judging.” She holds my gaze, although it takes effort, I can tell. “Just figuring it all out.”
“It’s okay if none of this is for you. Everyone’s kink is different.”
“Do you think everyone is kinky?”
“No. But you are.”
“How are you so sure?”
I’m not sure, exactly. “Just a solid hunch backed up by significant data.”
That gets a laugh out of her. “Anecdotal data can’t be trusted.”
Oh, it’s on again. I can’t resist her, no matter how often I get burned. I push off the pillar and stick my hands in my pockets. It’s the safest way to ensure I don’t touch her as I prowl around to her side. “Then you might want to dial back the wide-eyed hungry look and the way you keep biting your lower lip,” I whisper as I get almost close enough to touch her. Definitely close enough for her to feel my breath on her skin. “Your body is definitely sending mixed messages compared to the snark coming out of that pretty little mouth.”
She stiffens, just for a second, then sighs. “Damn it.”
I chuckle. “What do you hate more? That I noticed or that you’re conflicted?”
“So hard to decide. Both are annoying.”
“There’s a couch over there we could go sit on. Watch from a better vantage point.”
“I don’t know.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to trick me into sitting next to you again.”
“It’s not a trick.” I sigh in exasperation. Never have I understood the appeal of spanking quite as much as when Sasha is pushing all my buttons. But she’s not being a brat on purpose and I don’t have any interest in actually disciplining her, so I’ll have to deal with my hard-on on my own, later.
“Maybe I just don’t know how to do this.” She frowns, and I want to rub that little crease in her forehead away. She glances towards me, away from the display ahead of us. “What do you like?”
“That’s a dangerous question.”
“Because you might actually answer it?”
“Exactly.” Right now I’m incredibly turned on by innocently bratty behaviour, but that’s a temporary thing. That’s a Sasha-specific thing, and when a woman has turned me down is not the time to tell her that she is my kink.
She glances over at the couch I’d pointed to. It’s in the shadows, and I can tell she wants to go and sit there.
I lean in again. “I’m a hedonist, Sasha. I like dirty talk, dirty deeds, and dirty friends. And we don’t need to fuck again if you don’t want to, but you are one of those dirty friends. I’m going to sit over there and watch people be joyfully kinky. I suggest you join me.”
I grab two bottles of water on my way to the sofa, and when she sits down next to me—again, not too close—I hand her one of them.
We don’t talk. She watches Reid and Corinne, and I watch her. Not directly. My eyes are looking forward. But my gaze isn’t focused on the obvious kink ahead of me. All my attention is keenly focused on the quiet, newbie kinkster next to me on the couch.
She’s made her position totally clear. She doesn’t like me, doesn’t want me, and I can stop trying any time. She’s made that point twice.
The problem is, I don’t believe her.
I let that roll around in my head until Corinne’s scene ends.
Max and Violet get up from where they were sitting with Ellie, and as Max goes to open his mouth, a pager goes off on his hip.
“Baby or hospital?” Violet asks.
He glances at the screen. “Baby.”
“Of course,” she says with a smile.
Max waves at the wall of whips behind them. “Have at it. We’ll be right back.”
As Trevor and Jack move into the sunken part of the basement—where the ceilings are taller, and perfect for a skills competition with a bull whip—Sasha watches Max lead Violet back upstairs.
“He’s so attentive,” she murmurs.
“He’s pretty happy to be a dad.”
“I think most guys would just let Violet go and feed the baby on her own. Stay here and keep partying.”
“Yeah, some might.”
She gives me a challenging look. “You don’t agree?”
“I just said that some might. Some would, is that better?”
She rolls her shoulders in a vague kind of shrug. “Whatever, I don’t want to get into it with you.”
“You’ve got a big ol’ chip on your shoulder, don’t you?”
Something dark flashes in her eyes. Definitely not a comfortable topic. “Maybe I do. Maybe I have good reasons for being wary of men. And I’m one year away from being Dr. Brewster. So when you’re done being a media darling, I’ll have my own business empire. Got it?”
“Media darling? That’s just the job, princess.”
“Not one I would pick.”
“Noted.” I rock my jaw back and forth as I look at her. I refuse to be goaded into fighting with her again. “There’s a story there, isn’t there?”
She sips at her water and searches my face before answering. “It’s not a big deal.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Tell me some of those reasons,” I say, my voice low and only for her. “Tell me about the jerks and the assholes.”
Her eyes tighten up and she glances down. I follow her gaze and watch as she flicks one of the silk slices of her skirt into just the right spot. Always careful. Always controlled.
“It’s not really about other people,” she says, surprising me. “There was a period of time a few years ago where I was a bit reckless and splashy with my social media.”
I can’t keep the surprise off my face. “You?”
She gives me a rueful smile. “Yeah. Youthful indiscretions were fun right up until they weren’t. I got a ridiculous reputation. The good thing about the internet, though, is it has the memory of a goldfish. Nobody remembers that I was once billed as Canada’s answer to Paris Hilton.”
I definitely don’t remember that. “You’ve done a good job of rebranding yourself.”
Her eyes tighten again. “It wasn’t all me.”
Ah.
She waves her hand, affecting a coolness that feels fake. I don’t like it one bit. “Whatever. It wasn’t like I filmed a sex tape. But it was distracting, and at the end of the day, it interfered with my MBA. I ended up switching schools and starting again. So before I decided to pursue my PhD, we—I scrubbed myself from the internet as much as I could. Now it’s my goal to be as boring as humanly possible.”
Mr. Hat Trick Page 6