by Cathryn Cade
Twila rose, and Daisy looked up at her. “Thank you,” she said.
Twila smiled at her. “Anytime. And remember, you are now more bodacious than the average woman. Use your power wisely.”
Daisy giggled, and it was a sweet sound.
Dack slowly eased backward, away from the door. Then his heel struck the wheel of a mop bucket, which clanged loudly against the wall. The mop in it hit the wall with a thud.
Shit. He grabbed the mop, set it upright, and then thunked a few cupboards for good measure, trying to sound like he was supposed to be in the room. Then he hustled out and closed the outer door.
“What was that?” Daisy flew off the sofa, staring at the door cracked open across the room.
“Hmm? Oh, just someone getting bar towels,” Twila said nonchalantly. “So you ready to come on out? I’m sure Dack wants to talk to you.”
Daisy nodded, and then sniffled. “Um, sure. I just need a minute to…you know.” She gestured toward the mirrors.
“Okay.” Twila nodded and sauntered out of the locker room.
Daisy watched her go and then hurried over to the door from which the banging and clanging had come. Pushing it open, she peered into the small room beyond, lit only with a small emergency light. The room was empty.
Of course Twila was right, and it had just been one of the bartenders. Not someone spying on her.
Going to the mirrors, she splashed water on her face and dabbed it dry with more paper towels. Then she finger combed her hair and forced herself to look her reflection in the eye. Which were red and swollen, and her face was blotchy. Oh, she looked like hell. She wanted to sneak out and run for her car.
No, that would really be slapping Dack in the face. Twila was right, he deserved better than that. She had to face him.
In fact, she realized, with dawning hope in her eyes, she wanted to do more than that. She wanted him to make love to her. Wait, no, have sex with her. Just sex, that was all. Just great, hot, mind-blowing, toe-curling sex.
She took a deep breath and walked out into the club. Another woman passed her coming in. She gave Daisy a curious look but said nothing.
Dack was waiting outside, leaning on the wall like a cowboy in a western bar. He straightened as Daisy walked up to him, and looked down at her. “You have something to tell me?” he asked, his expression enigmatic.
Daisy nodded, meeting his gaze. Her heart was banging, but now that she’d already blurted it all out to the domme Twila, she felt stronger, more able to tell him.
He took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go outside.”
Hanging on to his big hand, Daisy followed him out through the lobby. She ducked behind him as he greeted another couple, not wanting to face anyone with a tearstained face. He bent to accept a hug from the woman in the couple and told her to be good. The woman laughed delightedly, and the two walked into the club. Daisy sniffled wistfully, wishing with all her heart she and Dack were just going in for a nice evening, instead of outside for a…what? Heart-to-heart.
He led her across the parking lot to her car, and turned to lean on the black pickup next to it, laying one arm along the rim of the bed. Daisy echoed his pose, leaning on her car, arms wrapped around her middle.
“I had…breast cancer,” she told him, gritting the words out in an effort to keep her voice steady. “My breasts are…fake. Implants. And I know they look okay, but I have…a hard time accepting that.”
She glared at him, suddenly mad as a disturbed hornet. God, this was hard. She was so ready to be done with all this emotion. “So now you know.”
He nodded. Then he reached out and pulled her to him, willy-nilly. Holding her between his spread legs, hand splayed over the small of her back, he tipped her chin up with his other hand.
“Daisy,” he said in that dark, commanding voice that said you will listen to me, and obey. “Listen, and listen good. Your breasts are not fake. Not in any way that matters to me. They’re real pretty, and nice to touch and hold, and I fuckin’ love the way your nipples perk up when I pinch them.”
She stared up at him wonderingly. He really meant it—the truth was written on his hard face. He smiled at her and pinched her chin lightly. “I’m proud of you, Petal. You’re a warrior woman. A survivor.”
“I am?” She blinked as her eyes filled with tears again. Her heart swelled. He was right; she’d been through her own war, and survived. “Yeah, I guess I am, huh?”
“Yes, you are. You’ve been through hell, and you came out smiling. Can I just…hold you for a little while?” he asked.
Daisy nodded. Oh God, if he didn’t, she was going to dissolve in a puddle on the hot pavement. He was proud of her. He thought she was strong, and brave. A warrior.
She burrowed her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around his powerful torso, and leaned against him, savoring his strong arms holding her tight, his hands massaging her back and her bottom gently, like he had all night just to hold her like this.
He was quiet for a long time, the only sounds the thump of the bass from inside the club and the muffled roar of traffic from the street beyond the gym.
“You know, Petal,” he said after a while. “If you want to be with a dom, any dom, you have to put your trust in him.”
Daisy felt a surge of guilt so strong it nearly sent her wailing from his arms. She’d been trying to game the system, show him what she wanted him to see. Like a Realtor staging a house, playing up the good points and disguising the bad ones.
Well, enough of that. She wanted Dack, so she’d step up and do what he asked. Not because she was wounded and willing to do anything to keep a man, but because she wanted what he offered. And she wanted it with him, not some other dom.
“You’re right,” she said, turning her face to press a kiss on his chest, hot and smooth. His chest hair tickled her chin. “I’m sorry. I’m ready now, to trust you.”
She looked up at him, smiling hopefully. But he shook his head slightly.
“Here’s what I want you to do, Daisy,” he said gently. “Go home and think about all this. Make sure it’s what you want. And when you decide, let me know.”
Daisy stared at him, hurt landing like a punch to her middle. He didn’t want her. After all this, he was sending her away.
He lifted one hand to indicate his key hanging around her neck. “I’ll need this back.”
Her face flaming, Daisy grasped the collar and pulled it off. It stuck on a strand of hair, and she yanked rather than take the time to loosen it. The sharp little pain was nothing compared to the turmoil inside her.
“Hey,” he chided, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t know what’s going through your head, but lose it. I’ll be here next week.”
“Well, good for you,” she snapped, slapping the key in his palm. “I won’t. I have a walk-a-thon for the cancer foundation.”
“Damn. Then maybe the week after that. I’m not goin’ anywhere, Petal.” He stuffed the key in the pocket of his Levis. “Now where’re your car keys?”
Numbly, Daisy dug them from her pocket and handed them over. Dack opened her car door, put her in, and handed her the keys.
“I’ll see you soon, okay?”
She nodded. “Um, sure.”
“Night,” he said. “Drive careful.” He closed the door on her and stepped back.
Daisy watched him amble back across the parking lot. Not until his tall form had disappeared into the club did she remember to put her keys into the ignition and start the car. He was going back in there to find another woman, she just knew it.
And it was none of her business if he did. She’d had her chance with him tonight, and she’d rejected him.
It seemed doms only gave so many second chances.
Chapter Ten
Dack walked back into the club. He managed a nod for Rochelle, who watched him pass with wide eyes, but said nothing. She was a sub through and through, a sweetheart who knew when to keep her mouth shut.
Trace and Jake were standing togethe
r, watching the scene as dancers milled about between songs. Things were heating up, with clothing coming off, the smell of various colognes, sweat and arousal scenting the air.
One dom had his sub’s arms bound, playing calf-roping. She was giggling as he unfastened her skirt. Another cowboy knelt before a sub, his mouth busy between her legs while a younger dom held her upright, playing with her breasts and watching.
Mason was playing naughty pony on the dance floor, a pretty dark-haired sub waggling her bare ass while he smacked it carefully with the smooth end of his belt, just hard enough to make her squeal.
“Looks like we’re gonna have us a rodeo between sets,” Jake observed, tipping his head to watch as the belt hit the floor, along with Mason’s knees. The dom unfastened his jeans, ready to take his date there while dancers ringed the floor to enjoy the show.
“Yeah,” Dack agreed sourly. “Looks like.”
“Why are you pissed?” Jake asked. “This is money in the bank, partner.”
Trace elbowed Jake. “Go easy on Dack. He got bucked off tonight.”
Jake waited, brows raised in silent query. While Mason covered his mare in the middle of the dance floor, Dack explained briefly what had happened with Daisy.
“Oh man, that’s rough,” Trace said, shaking his head. “Damn, she’s so feisty, you’d never think she was that sick, you know?”
Dack nodded, his chest aching. He knew exactly what Trace meant. The thought of her lying in a hospital bed, her hair gone, pale and weak, nearly brought him to his knees.
Jake squeezed his shoulder in silent support. “So, you gonna back off, Hum? Ease her into the scene?”
Dack scowled. “No,” he decided. “I’m gonna push harder. She’s got the courage to do this, if she really wants it, and I think she does. She’s either all in, or she’s out.”
“Yee-haw,” Trace approved. “Will she be here next weekend? I don’t wanna miss this.”
“Neither do I,” Dack agreed wryly. “But she’s busy next weekend. One of those cancer things—walk-a-thons.”
Trace nodded. “Done those with my aunt and my mom. Raised a lot of money for research.” He grinned at Dack. “Guy can get a lot of brownie points too.”
Dack stared at him. “You troll for women at breast cancer fund-raisers?” That was wrong on so many levels, he didn’t even know where to start.
Trace grimaced. “No, dumbass. I meant you get points with your lady that way. My aunt baked me a double batch of her famous chocolate chip cookies. No telling what Daisy would do for you.”
Jake eyed Dack, tongue in cheek. “Dack’s already tasted Daisy’s cookies.”
Dack nodded, his mind working. Out on the floor, Mason was groaning with completion, his sub whimpering happily. “But I want the whole fuckin’ bake sale.”
Jake slapped him on the back. “Well, meantime, gentlemen, we got a house full of eager subs, waiting for our services. Let’s get to it.”
“Hey, speaking of that,” Trace said. “Hummer, you gonna charge Daisy a membership fee? None of my business if you want to cover it, but…”
“Yeah, it’s your business,” Dack acknowledged. They owned the club together, and they all had to play by the same rules. One of them couldn’t be inviting all kinds of women for free, or the place would go under. “I’m covering her.”
At least for as long as she lasted here. Because if she ran again, that was it. He’d make sure they stayed friends, even if it killed him to see her and talk to her without touching, but he wanted her too badly to live on the end of a string like a yo-yo, not knowing if he was going to be up or down.
“She said her friend Sara was going to come too,” Trace went on. “But I haven’t seen any paperwork from her.”
“Well, if she does, she gets the ladies’ discount,” Jake said. “You could offer Daisy that too, if the two of you don’t work out.”
Dack nodded, although his jaw was tight.
Jake managed the gym, and Trace ran this place. Dack helped out at both places, but with his building business, he didn’t have the time to do paperwork. Trace had a background in money management, so he ran their corporation, and they had an accounting firm who made sure the books were in order.
But they made the big decisions together. One of them had been to offer women memberships to the club at half what men paid. Keeping this place open meant keeping women coming back. Men were horndogs—if there were women, they’d follow them here.
Trace and Jake walked away in different directions. Trace stopped to smile at a woman sitting shyly at a table. Jake headed for the stairs.
With an effort, Dack brought himself back to his surroundings. He wasn’t up for sex with some chick he didn’t know, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t circulate, talk to the singles and try to help pair them with a dom he thought could please them.
It was the ladies who were crucial to business. And if one was crucial to his satisfaction, well, she wasn’t here right now.
Daisy called Sara as soon as she got home. Her friend’s phone rang several times.
“Hi,” Sara said breathlessly. “Sorry, I was doing crunches. My car had to be towed to the shop. Since I’m stuck at home, I decided to work my sexual frustration out on an exercise tape. Are you having fun?”
Daisy snorted. “Not exactly. I’m at my place.”
“What happened?” Sara’s voice was full of concern. “Was Dack with another woman?”
Fresh tears filled Daisy’s eyes, and she swiped at them with her damp tissue. “He probably is by now. He sent me home.”
“That ass-hat. Why?”
Daisy told Sara what had happened. Her friend listened, making sympathetic noises.
“The least he could’ve done was give you an orgasm after all that,” Sara said.
Daisy laughed, surprising herself. “Thanks. I thought so too.” She sniffled. “But I guess he has a point. If I don’t want to participate fully…”
“You shouldn’t be there,” Sara finished. “Yeah, I guess not. So is it right for you? I mean, everyone who looks at you sees gorgeous, but can you get past your emotional barriers?”
Daisy stared at the begonia blooming in the corner of her small living room. The creamy blooms rose exuberantly from the shelter of the plant, a delicate and surprising contrast to the broad, spiky, green leaves.
“I’m going to try.”
“Good. ’Cause I have to tell you, Dack is really hot. I’ll bet he can really show a woman a good time.”
Daisy made a face at her phone. Sara didn’t have to be quite so enthusiastic. “He’s also taken.” At least as far as Sara was concerned. Daisy was all too aware she had no control over what other women Dack was with.
“Oops.” Sara winced audibly. “Of course he is. So-oo, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course you can.” Daisy waited, intrigued.
“Well… Was it really hot last time, you know…” Her friend hesitated and then finished in a rush. “When you let him spank you. I mean, was it part of the fun, or just something you wanted to get through for the sex?”
Daisy grinned. “Does someone want her fanny warmed?”
Sara groaned, embarrassment clear. “Oh, I’m such a slut even admitting this, but…yeah. It sounds really…intriguing.”
“Any special guy in mind?” Daisy asked warily. If Sara said Dack, she was going to rip her red hair out.
Sara hesitated. “Not really. He doesn’t have to be handsome, y’know, just fit and sexy.”
Daisy made a sound of wordless agreement. Looks weren’t everything. Mason wasn’t the best-looking guy at the club, but he was one of the sexiest. If it weren’t for Dack, she would’ve probably accepted his offer that first night.
“Yes, it was hot,” she admitted. In fact, she squirmed on her little sofa at the memory of Dack’s strong will overpowering hers, of his hand smacking and then soothing her ass. She didn’t care if she ever saw one of those paddles again. Or that jerk Kevin.
“So you’re going back?” Sara asked. “’Cause if you are, I’ll come with you next time.”
“Yes,” Daisy decided. “I am going back. And that big carpenter isn’t going to know what hit him. Metaphorically speaking, that is.”
She wrinkled her nose. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be allowed to smack his fine ass. But she would love to get her hands on it. Missionary style, in that bed. She wanted to be under him, with his big, hard body pressing her into the bed, while he pounded into her.
“Well, now we just need to work on Carlie,” Sara said. “That girl needs some guy to show her she’s beautiful.”
“So do you,” Daisy said loyally. “You have the best body of the three of us. You’re so fit.”
Sara snorted. “Didn’t impress Jason much.”
“Well, speaking of a-holes, he is the king,” Daisy reminded her. “So who cares what he thinks? There are lots of hot guys at the club,” she told Sara. “In fact, I was surprised how many people not only can afford the fees but are interested in the lifestyle.”
“And you haven’t even been upstairs,” Sara said jokingly.
“Yeah. I don’t know…if Dack goes up there.”
“Guess you’ll find out.”
Daisy swallowed. “Yup. Guess I will.”
She and Sara said good-bye with a promise to meet at the gym on Tuesday evening. Suddenly exhausted, Daisy hauled herself off the sofa and traipsed into the bathroom for a cool shower.
She eyed her reflection in her bathroom mirror. A woman with a tearstained face, chic hairdo and curvy body in a ridiculously sexy outfit. She smiled crookedly as she untied the ripped western shirt. Daisy Duke, he’d called her.
Well, she could certainly use some of the character’s attitude. And she’d do it too. She set her jaw as she unhooked her bra and shrugged it off, baring her full breasts. She stroked her hands over them and nodded decisively.
As the amazing Twila had said, she was now more bodacious than the average woman, and she was going to use that to get what she wanted instead of being afraid.
Even if the thought scared her half to death.