Need

by Becca Jameson

  Emily shrugged. “Not much.” A total lie.

  “Come on. Spill. Is his voice as hot as his body?”

  “I guess.”

  “You’re blushing. He made you squirm. I saw you,” she proclaimed. But that was all she said, so apparently she hadn’t been watching too closely.

  Emily thought she would die on the spot if Virginia pointed out Emily’s panties left the club in the pocket of one Rider Henderson.

  Maybe the man had a point. Perhaps no one had been paying as close attention to Emily as she imagined. If Virginia hadn’t noticed the performance, maybe no one had.

  Suddenly Emily was exhausted. Now that Rider was gone, she wanted to leave also. “I need to get home, V. It’s late. I’m tired. Can you manage on your own? You don’t have to leave just because I do.”

  Virginia’s face fell. She’d been hoping for a juicy story. “Oh. Yeah. Sure. I’ll be fine. But I want details. You’ll spill later, right?”

  “Sure, V. But there isn’t really much to tell. He was nice. We chatted. He left. I doubt I’ll see him again.” That’s a boldface lie, and you know it.

  Every fiber of her being longed to see him again.

  She could spend the week hemming and hawing over whether or not to return to the club next week and pondering her ability to follow his instructions, but why bother?

  Rider Henderson was the hottest man she’d ever spoken too. Sure, he was younger than her by a few years, but did it really matter in this day and age? She wasn’t looking for a husband. She should take his offer and enjoy it while it lasted.

  What mattered most was he made her heart race, her mouth dry, her pussy leak, and her brain scramble. She’d be a fool to say no.

  Anyone would be a fool to turn down his offer.

  Chapter Four

  It was after one when Emily finally got home from the club. She couldn’t believe how long she’d stayed. She locked the front door to her condo, set her purse on the table next to the door, and kicked off her shoes. Her feet hurt. She rarely wore heels. As she bent to pick them up, she shook her head.

  The pumps had seemed so sexy when she’d left home. They made her legs longer and shapelier. Virginia said she had great legs and she should work them. But Emily was barely five two, so legs weren’t something she had a lot of.

  She padded to her room, dropping the shoes in the doorway. That’s it, Em. Live dangerously. She rolled her eyes at herself as she made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth and get ready for bed. She stripped, dropped her clothes in the hamper, and then ambled back to her room to grab clean panties and a tank top. She never slept in more than that, hating the feeling of a nightgown bunched up around her waist, but tonight it felt more risqué than before.

  She stared down at her body as she made her way to the bed. She’d always been petite. Her entire frame was proportionately small. Her breasts had grown to a whopping B-cup by the time she was in tenth grade and then they’d stopped. She supposed she was curvy in all the right places, but that meant her waist was tiny in order for her hips to have any flair. Men didn’t normally glance at her twice.

  As she slid between the sheets and lay back against her pillow, she stared at the ceiling. What the hell happened tonight?

  She thought back on everything Rider had said to her and shivered. Even his name was hot. Made her think of motorcycles. Just because his name was Rider didn’t mean he owned a motorcycle, but it seemed like he should. And a tattoo. Her mind wandered to what his chest looked like. She would drool if he had a tattoo under his shirt.

  She flipped onto her stomach, trying to shake the image from her mind. Since when are you into tattooed, motorcycle-riding dominants?

  Since Rider slipped into her booth.

  His voice had been commanding, his expression so serious. Firm. And he’d made her panties wet within moments of sitting across from her…until she’d given them to him. “Ugh.” She flipped back over and flung her arm over her face. “I gave a stranger my panties…in public.”

  Every time he’d spoken, she’d grown more aroused. Her brain told her it was insanity. Her sex spoke otherwise. No wonder Virginia was interested in BDSM. It was hot. Or maybe that was just Rider. She hadn’t been overly titillated before he joined her.

  And he’d noticed her, knew what she’d worn the last three Friday nights. She moaned.

  But his words…

  “Go to a fetish shop and buy yourself a few outfits…”

  How was she ever going to be able to do that? She tried to imagine where there was a sex shop and came up with nothing. She’d have to Google them and find one in the next city. What are you thinking? You can’t do this.

  Her mind wandered through the rest of his instructions. Nope, demands. Mandates.

  “Shave your pussy. Shave it bare…”

  She fidgeted under the sheets, her legs seeming hypersensitive against the cotton. She’d never shaved down there. She trimmed in the summertime when she went to the pool, but that was about it.

  Her panties grew wet as she visualized herself running a razor over her private parts. Damnit.

  Deep breaths. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do anything he said. He doesn’t own you.

  But the second those thoughts came out, she realized part of her wished he did own her.

  And then his next command: “I’m sure there’s a vibrator charging in your bedside table. Take it out tonight. Turn it on. Set it next to you and let it run until it dies.”

  It infuriated her on so many levels he pegged that so correctly. She jerked her gaze toward her bedside table as though it mocked her. How did the man know her so well? Maybe every woman had a vibrator in their bedside table. Yep. That had to be it. He wasn’t psychic. He just got lucky. Like a medium who scans the audience and declares, “I’m getting a name that starts with S…” As if there weren’t two hundred people in the room who knew someone who’d died with a name that started with S.

  She turned on her side, trying to get comfortable and failing miserably. Her bed didn’t seem as soft as it had last night. The cotton sheets she’d paid extra for to have the higher thread count abraded her skin. She couldn’t close her eyes because when she did she could see him behind her lids.

  He was the sexiest man she’d ever set eyes on. And she’d indeed seen him all three Fridays and lusted after him from afar. Who wouldn’t? He was clean cut, his dark hair the perfect length to be professional while being long enough for a woman to weave her fingers through. His face was closely shaved. His eyes bore into her until she melted from the heat they put off. And God, his muscles. He wore a T-shirt, but it didn’t hide the pecs he sported, indicating he spent countless hours in a gym.

  Ugh. She flipped to her other side and her gaze landed on the bedside table.

  No. She shook her head. Don’t do it. That’s crazy, Em. The man can’t possibly know what you do in your home. Not a chance. To follow through with the directive would be ludicrous.

  Except she couldn’t stop looking at the nightstand, knowing her vibrator indeed was in there all charged and ready to use. Not that she used it often, but sometimes…especially late at night when she finished reading a good romance novel.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She sat up straight, yanked open the drawer and pulled out the dildo. What difference did it make? There wasn’t a chance in hell he would ever know whether she did his bidding or not.

  She wasn’t even close to committing to return to the club next Friday. “Ten sharp. Don’t be late.” But just in case… She knew one thing for sure, no way could she lie to him if she did return and he asked. He held that much power over her. Over everyone in the room really.

  She turned it on and set it on the other side of the bed. It seemed much louder than usual without it being put to use for its intended purpose. She stuffed the spare pillow over the top of it and flopped back down on the mattress, unsure if she was pissed at herself or aroused.

  In the silence of the room, t
he vibrations were magnified. Maybe she should have put it on a lower setting. There was no way she was going to pick it up again. If she did she’d not be able to control the temptation to use it.

  As it was, her panties were damp with arousal and her nipples were stiff, rubbing against her tank top.

  She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. “I want you to save yourself for me this week. Do not masturbate.” God, the man drove her insane and she’d only spent half an hour with him. She knew nothing about him. Maybe Virginia could find out some details. She perked up at the idea. The woman knew several people. Maybe she could confirm whether or not Rider was someone who could be trusted before Emily went back there.

  He could be a serial killer. Or a rapist.

  Nope. She didn’t believe it. He didn’t give off any sort of vibe to indicate he was a danger to her in any way…except maybe sexually. Yep. On that front he was more than a danger. She was doomed.

  She closed her eyes and attempted to block out more thoughts about Rider. She focused on the sound of the vibrator, knowing it could run a while before it went dead.

  Luckily, she fell asleep and missed the end.

  •●•

  “Dude, how’d it go with the librarian out there tonight?”

  Rider turned toward his closest friend, Gage, from where he sat tying his boots, preparing to go home. He kept a variety of clothes in a locker at Extreme so he could come straight from the gym or a fight and change at the club. “What?”

  “Don’t what me. The woman in the booth. She was so not your type. I was surprised you took my advice and spoke to her.”

  Rider felt irritated by Gage’s words, until he looked up and found the ex-soldier smirking at him.

  Rider grabbed his towel from the bench beside him, balled it up, and threw it at his friend, who caught it against his chest with an umph, as though the flimsy terry cloth could do him any real damage. At one eighty-two, the man fought at the exact same weight level as Rider. They were so evenly matched it was scary. People consistently asked them if they were brothers.

  Gage straddled the bench a few feet from Rider as Mason came around the corner. “Hey. Group meeting?”

  “More like group harassment now that you’re here. Don’t suppose you want to razz me also?” Rider pulled his T-shirt over his head and flipped Gage the bird.

  Mason chuckled. “Yeah, Rafe and I sent Gage to grill you. But since neither of you came back out we thought maybe you two were in here throwing punches.”

  “Really? Don’t you guys have anything better to do than get all up in my business about some woman I spoke to in the bar area?” Rider turned toward Mason. “You leavin’ Jenna out front waiting on your ass while you get the juicy gossip? What are you guys? A bunch of fucking girls?”

  And then a door snicked shut and suddenly the entire gang was in the locker room, even Zane, who hadn’t been at the club earlier in the evening because he had to work. EMTs didn’t always get Friday nights off. Neither did cops for that matter. But Rider worked four ten-hour shifts most weeks, with Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday off.

  Rider rolled his eyes. “What is this? An intervention?”

  Gage chuckled. “Hey, we thought it was cute. And it’s about time you went for a woman you could mold into exactly the kind of submissive you desire.”

  Rider stood, stuffing several things back into his locker and then slamming it shut. “I don’t know what you fools think you saw, but I simply got bored and decided to give the poor girl a taste of the D/s world.”

  “Really?” Conner spoke up now. “Is that why you have her panties in your pocket?” He laughed, not even trying to cover it up.

  Rider cringed inside. He had no idea the entire Fight Club had been paying so close attention to him. “Rich, Conner. So floral. You teach that to your college lit students?”

  Gage handed Rider his towel. “Dude, we’re just watching out for you. And I’m not sure I’d refer to her as a girl. The woman might have been small, but she was older than you. A total cougar. I dig it.” He nodded his approval with a quirk of his lips.

  Rider rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t that old, for God’s sake. I’ve been with a lot of women older than me. I don’t think you guys need to get all worked up over nothing. Considering the sort of things I proposed to her, I seriously doubt she’ll return next week.”

  “You made her an offer?” Mason leaned closer. “Sweet.”

  Rider paused. “Yeah, I guess I did. It was a spur of the moment thing.”

  “You never take newbies,” Conner said.

  “True.”

  “What makes this woman different?” Rafe asked.

  Rider shrugged. “I don’t know. I noticed her hovering in the periphery for the last three weeks looking like a fish out of water and decided to see what she was made of.”

  “And?” Gage asked.

  “Like you said, I’ve got her panties in my pocket.” Rider turned and walked out of the room, leaving the rest of his best friends in the world to pull their collective jaws off the ground.

  He eased out the back of the club without making eye contact with anyone else. Honestly, he had no idea what the fuck he’d been thinking when he’d proposed to train Emily Townsend. All he knew was she was the first woman in a long time to give him such a fierce instant hard-on.

  Sure, in the past he’d been very vocal about only doing scenes with experienced submissives, but something about Emily got under his skin and made him soft inside where he’d never felt any sort of weakness before. And he liked it.

  He lived close. And he’d always been grateful for that considering he’d owned his home before he’d joined the gym or the club he belonged to. In ten minutes he was in his bedroom, stripping off his clothes and flopping onto his bed.

  Maybe he’d crossed a line with Emily. She’d been beet red when he’d given her his list of requests. At least that was how he assumed she saw his demands for the week. But in truth, he’d paused between each pronouncement to gauge her reaction and deemed her receptive. Her hands shook, her body sat rigid, but her eyes widened with each sentence.

  Sure, he’d shocked her, but that had been the point really. If she could follow the short list of demands he’d given her, she deserved a chance to sub for him.

  There was no way she could do those things though. And thus he had no reason to worry. It wasn’t like he had oodles of spare time to train a newbie. Shit, between working ten-hour shifts, sparring at the gym, and nights at the club, he didn’t have time for a woman of any sort, submissive or otherwise. That’s why he never took a woman outside the club. He didn’t date and he never brought anyone he did a scene with to his house. What happened at Extreme stayed at Extreme.

  He didn’t have time for outside dalliances, and he was nowhere near done sowing wild oats.

  Rider Henderson didn’t bend his schedule for anyone.

  Chapter Five

  “Think about what it would feel like to have me run my hands over your smooth pussy when you shave each morning…”

  Emily stood in her shower the next morning, holding her razor and staring down at the curls covering her most private area. She’d just finished shaving her legs and was about to set the razor down and ignore Rider’s demand when his words from last night slammed into her, making her knees weak and forcing her to back up a step and lean against the tile wall to avoid slipping onto the floor.

  Lord, the man had a way with words. And his voice kept taking over her brain, forcing her to heed to his desires.

  She needed to get a grip on herself if she really intended to shave her sex, otherwise she’d end up cutting her lower lips, and that would be most uncomfortable.

  Taking a deep breath and righting herself, she mumbled, “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” But she did it anyway, each stroke of the razor bringing her closer to completely naked between her legs. Why do men find this attractive?

  Of course she certainly couldn’t overgeneralize and assume
all men liked a shaved pussy, as Rider called it, just because he did. Maybe the man had a fetish or something.

  Or maybe it’s more common than you think and women all over the place are shaving down there. It wasn’t as though she frequently had conversations with her girlfriends or coworkers about their grooming practices between the legs.

  When she finished, she ran her fingers over the surprisingly smooth skin, making herself moan out loud. Damn, that really does feel kinda sexy.

  As her eyes drooped closed, she yanked her hand away and righted herself.

  “I want you to save yourself for me this week. Do not masturbate.”

  Trying to ignore her ridiculous compliance with a man’s demands on her when he wasn’t even in the room, she rinsed off and stepped from the shower.

  Her phone rang as she finished drying off and wrapped her towel around her head. She snatched the cell off the counter. Virginia.

  “Hey, V,” she answered.

  “Em,” the woman nearly screamed. “Details. Please. Come on. I’ve been thinking about that sexy hunk of meat ever since you left last night.”

  Emily swallowed. She really didn’t want to go into this with V. She was her closest friend, but Emily wasn’t remotely sure how she felt about the exchange with Rider herself yet. And the last thing she wanted to do was admit out loud to anyone alive what she’d already done for the man.

  He’s not even here…

  It was insane. Emily never did anything remotely like this. Never.

  She was straitlaced. A total goody two shoes. Everyone knew this about her. It suited her librarian image to a T.

  She padded back into her bedroom and flopped onto the bed, naked, wearing only the towel on her head. Her skin felt overheated being reminded about the evening without the details.

  V didn’t let it go. “What will we talk about in the teacher’s lounge this fall if you don’t dish?” She used her best pouty voice.