The Masters of Falcon's Fantasies [BDSM Menage Fantasies 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Cassidy Browning

  “Come on, man,” Blaze was saying. He had an arm around Daphne, who was looking speculatively at Finn. Finn stood with his arms crossed, blocking their way to the front door.

  “Why can’t we go out?” Daphne looked a bit unsteady on her feet again. She swayed toward her manager, reaching out a plaintive hand as if to paw at his shirt.

  “Because we have work to do tonight.” Finn’s voice was stern. “And you’ve already had too much to drink. How many bottles did you and Blaze put away before dinner? You need to stay sharp and get enough sleep so you don’t collapse again. Remember what the doctor said? You’re pushing it already, trying to get this music video wrapped up and all the songs for your new album written in a month. You don’t need to be out partying every night.”

  Daphne put a sexy pout on her face but then ruined the effect by giggling. “You’re such a spoilsport.” She allowed Blaze to pull her back into his arms, although she slapped at the hand that was caressing her ass. It stopped caressing but wandered back to the same place a minute later. Daphne didn’t seem to notice.

  Blaze gave Finn a triumphant leer and tried to move past him. “Come on, baby. He’s not your daddy. You’re old enough, and rich enough, to live the way you want to. You don’t need him.” They took another step.

  “Daphne, if you leave tonight, I’m quitting.”

  Daphne stopped, her expression clearing. Allie wondered if she’d really been drunk, or just playing. Now she stood upright and twisted out of Blaze’s arms to face Finn. Blaze swore.

  “You wouldn’t do that.” Her voice was strong, but there was a hint of pleading in it. If she was calling his bluff, she wasn’t being very convincing about it.

  “Yes, I will. I’ve had enough of you sneaking off and going—” Finn’s voice trailed off and he glanced at the trio standing on the other side of the table. “Anyway, if you want to drink yourself to death, go ahead. If that’s your choice, I won’t try to stop you anymore. But I’m not going to follow you around and watch. And I’m sure as hell not going to help you.”

  “All right! Problem solved. Come on, Daph.” Blaze grabbed Daphne’s arm and pulled her toward the door. His other hand planted itself on her breast as he leaned in to kiss her. Finn took a step forward, his hands balling into fists, but Daphne held up a hand.

  She turned her face away from Blaze, pushing him back firmly. “Not now. Daddy’s right. We can party later. Maybe after he goes to sleep.” She stepped squarely between the two men and nodded at Finn, who was beginning to sputter. “Lighten up. I was joking. Okay, let’s get to work then, slave driver. Allie, can you bring us some coffee? It’s going to be a long night.”

  “Shit. I’m going to go find me some action.” Blaze stomped out of the house, and a minute later they heard the roar of his motorcycle.

  “I’ll go call the Grandpointe Police Department and give them a heads-up,” Brad muttered, watching the cloud of dust as Blaze flew down the driveway. Daphne stopped on her way to the stairs.

  “You’re going to get him arrested?” she squeaked.

  Finn put a hand on her arm. “Not unless he does something stupid. We don’t know how much he’s had to drink. If he doesn’t cause any trouble, they won’t bother him. But it’d be better for them to stop him before he kills himself or someone else, wouldn’t it?”

  Daphne gave him an unreadable look but followed obediently as he led the way to her room.

  Chapter 3

  It was finally Friday afternoon, and Finn had definitely worked them hard over the last week. Daphne normally didn’t tease him by using the nickname “slave driver” that Blaze had given him shortly after joining the band. She knew he hated it, probably because it had come from Blaze, but she’d found herself throwing it at him more and more frequently lately.

  She hated being angry at Finn. Deep down she knew that his advice and leadership were good. He always set a good example as a hard worker, and he wanted the same from her. But, she reflected, life as a serious musician trying to make a name for herself was so much harder than it had been as a singer in a second-rate band. Back then all she had to do was play half the night at some dive bar and then party until dawn. They had achieved some success, sure, but that money wasn’t going to last forever. It was time, as Finn said, to do something bigger. But that meant even more hard work, and she wasn’t sure she could live up to Finn’s expectations. Blaze was constantly trying to convince her to not even try. He wanted to go back to life on the road, playing bit gigs where it didn’t matter if you ever practiced or not. Those crowds were usually too drunk to know the difference anyway. There were times when that was a tempting idea. She was nearing thirty now, though, and she was sure if she didn’t hit it big soon she never would. Better to listen to Finn. She knew that, and yet—

  It was the weekend. Blaze had been after her all afternoon to just take off to Sacramento with him. There were things in Sacramento that were certainly attractive, even if it did drive Finn crazy. What right did he have to complain about her fucking that politician—or anyone, for that matter? He didn’t want her.

  She felt feisty and defiant when she got into the shower to wash off the sweat of her afternoon of dancing. Something was going to happen soon. She was sure of it. It might not be good, but at least it would be different. She craved different, was drawn inexorably toward it, even when she knew it was self-destructive. Her need was not unlike that of a moth to the flame.

  She went downstairs to find the whole band and Finn sitting at the dining room table. Allie was dishing out something that smelled a little odd. Okay, she’d asked for “different,” but this thing with the food might be going a little too far.

  “—We’re going out to the club tonight,” she heard Allie say as she reached the bottom of the staircase.

  Daphne’s eyebrows shot up. “The club? You mean the kink club in town?”

  Allie whipped around and eyed her apprehensively. Obviously she hadn’t meant for Daphne to hear her. “Yes. It’s called The Keep. We’ll be leaving around eight. Will you need anything before we go?”

  “I want to go with you!” It was partly to annoy Allie and partly to annoy Blaze, but she couldn’t stop herself. She threw herself in Finn’s lap and batted her eyelashes at him. “Will you take me, Finn? Please?”

  “Don’t be silly, Daph. You have no interest in that.” Finn tried to look stern, but his arms encircled her as if they couldn’t help it and his hand absently caressed her hip.

  His touch tugged at her core, igniting a dormant fuse. She looked deeply into his eyes, willing him to read her desire as she wound her arms around his neck and purred, “Sure I do. Can we go?”

  Blaze snorted. “I’ll show you a better time than that. Let’s go for a ride after dinner.”

  Lifting her head, she pouted at him. “No. I want to go to The Keep. It sounds cool!”

  Allie was staring at them as if they were discussing burning down her house. Finn looked up and asked her, “Would they allow nonmembers tonight?”

  Daphne’s head snapped back to Finn. She hadn’t really meant to go—she’d just been playing—but now that he seemed to be considering it, the idea took hold of her, stoking the flames raging between her thighs.

  “I—” Allie shot a look at Karl, who was pouring water for everyone at the table.

  “Oh, goodie. Water,” Blaze said, his lip curling in a sneer.

  “Why don’t you give it a try? It probably won’t kill you.” Finn took a sideways glance at Daphne. “You drink too much, anyway.”

  “Jawohl, mein Führer,” Blaze said with a snap of his heels and a raised hand. Then he took his seat and morosely picked up the drink. “At least it’s not poisoned Kool-Aid.”

  Karl seemed to deliberately ignore their interaction. “Actually, tonight they’re having a gateway night with an informational class before the dungeon opens.” Allie glared at him as if she was considering stabbing him with her carving knife.

  “If you don’t mind us tagging
along,” Finn began with a worried look at Allie.

  “Of course not.” Karl slapped Allie’s ass as he took the knife from her and began dishing up the food.

  Finn nodded and met Daphne’s eyes again. “Okay, then. If you seriously want to go, I’ll take you.” Daphne bounced excitedly in his lap, feeling a growing lump there that made her smile. She planted a kiss on his cheek and took the chair next to him, leaning over to kiss Blaze on the lips.

  “Tomorrow we’ll go for a ride, sweetheart.”

  He glowered. “The offer may not be good tomorrow.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll just have to take my chances.” She gave him a cheerful pat on the head, then kissed Finn again, letting her hand trail down his chest. “You’re such a sweetie.”

  From the corner of her eye she watched Finn discreetly adjust himself. She took a plate from Karl with a thoughtful smile. It seemed to be a pork roast with some kind of sweet glaze. She sniffed. Mango, maybe? There was a rice mixture on the side and some dark-green leafy stuff. She picked up her fork and poked at it.

  “It’s kale.” There was a defensive note in Allie’s voice, as if she expected someone to argue with her about it. Daphne suddenly found that she was starving. She speared a huge green leaf and stuffed it into her mouth. To her astonishment, it was delicious. There seemed to be some of the mango glaze on it, too.

  “Yum!” Daphne swallowed and smiled broadly at Allie, reaching for her water glass. “That’s really good.”

  Allie seemed to be at a loss. She finally said, “Thanks,” although she still sounded as if she suspected there was a hidden insult somewhere in Daphne’s statement. She swiveled and retreated into the kitchen.

  Daphne turned her smile back to Finn. For having worked so hard today, she felt great. And hungry. “You really want to go?”

  “Sure, I’ll take you.” Wonderful. She had just convinced him to go to a sex club with her, and he was pretending it was some kind of work assignment. She would get his attention tonight, though. Even if that meant stripping in the middle of the club. She had to. If she didn’t get some action soon she was positively going to die, and she wasn’t interested in Blaze’s ideas on that.

  When he knocked at eight, she was ready. She hastily arranged herself on the bed as she called out for him to come in. He opened the door and stood there, his face going through a varying mix of surprise, admiration, and what she hoped was lust before settling back into its normal, carefully controlled expression.

  “Wow. You look spectacular.”

  She glanced at the sudden bulge in his pants and then down at her lace bodysuit. Underneath was nothing but the tiniest of thongs, in a light-tan color that forced you to look twice before you were sure it was actually there. A black shawl was thrown over her shoulders, and she slid it forward slowly as she stood up, allowing it to drape over the front of her body. Her backside was completely visible through the bodysuit, so she turned to give him the full view, bending over to pick up a tiny black sequined evening bag from the floor and peeking back in time to see him hide an obvious reaction to her efforts. As she stood, she stepped into the six-inch heels that were waiting next to the bed.

  “Thank you.” She looked into his eyes, willing him to realize that she wanted him as badly as he seemed to want her as she moved forward to take his arm. Leaning forward to kiss him, she deliberately rubbed a breast on his arm, but he turned his face so her lips only met his cheek. He cleared his throat.

  “You’re such a flirt, Daph.” He looked her up and down, obviously struggling not to show that he was interested in what he saw. “Don’t you think you should wear a coat or something?”

  And you’re such an altar boy. But we’ll see how long that lasts. “No.” It came out sharper than she had intended. She stalked past him and began to head downstairs, glancing around to see who might be there to appreciate her outfit.

  Jay and Billy were coming out of the kitchen, each with a stack of cookies in their hands. They barely glanced at her as they headed for the front door.

  “Where are you going?” she called after them, feeling the need for a little more male attention, even if it was only these two.

  “Movie,” Billy said around a mouthful of cookie. “Have fun at your club!”

  Then they were gone. Daphne frowned after them, resisting the urge to throw a shoe at someone—which, considering her stilettos, could be dangerous. She had suspected once that they were gay, but now she knew they simply weren’t interested in her. It seemed like no one was. Depressing.

  Finn caught up to her then, taking her elbow to help keep her balance. Sure, don’t let the meal ticket fall downstairs and break her neck, she thought angrily. She took a deep breath, calling up her defenses. So they didn’t want her, and Finn wouldn’t admit that he did. She’d show them all what they were missing. Her professional smile flashed on, and her back straightened, thrusting her tits forward as she strutted down the rest of the stairs like it was the red carpet. She allowed Finn to open the door for her and escort her out to the black BMW she’d bought for him when they’d first signed the recording contract. He’d refused it initially, only agreeing to drive it under the condition it stay in her name. She suspected he felt more comfortable in the role of her chauffeur and bodyguard than her escort. But it didn’t matter right now.

  They rode in silence, and Daphne used the time to force herself back into a cheerful and self-confident mood. Maybe she’d meet a tall, handsome, super-rich Dom at the club, she thought. With a helicopter. Although someone like that might object to her touring, and she wasn’t about to give up her career for any man. At least, not until she was too old to perform or nobody wanted to see her anymore. She refused to allow her mind to go there. At least Finn understood her passion, even if he did lock his own away.

  She glanced at him surreptitiously. He was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and frowning. Worried that she’d do something to embarrass him, no doubt. The thought gave her a perverse desire to do exactly that, even though she knew it could mean losing him. Part of her wanted to see how far she could push him, but she worried that boundary had gotten too close over the last month.

  “This is a BDSM club?” They’d pulled into a parking lot on the outskirts of town, in the warehouse district. Daphne looked around in trepidation as she stepped out of the car. Momentarily, she wished she’d followed Finn’s advice and brought a coat instead of the flimsy lace shawl. She felt horribly exposed and vulnerable as they walked together toward the door, only relaxing when it opened to reveal Karl, Allie, and Brad waiting for them just inside. Karl’s eyebrows rose a little at her outfit, but he gave her a reassuring smile, shook Finn’s hand, and introduced them to sky. She was an older woman with bright-purple hair, a friendly smile, and a stack of paperwork. If it hadn’t been for the colored hair and her skintight latex dress, she would have looked more like a kindergarten teacher than the owner of an establishment for sadomasochism.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, dear. I’m a huge fan.” sky surprised Daphne by grabbing her for a bear hug before leading them into the room where the introduction session would take place. Finn went in with her, and they took seats around a table laden with cookies and lemonade.

  There were five or six people already sitting down and stealing nervous glances at each other. sky bustled to the front of the small room and looked around with an approving smile.

  “Welcome. Everyone give yourself a pat on the back for being brave enough to visit a scary BDSM club for the first time!” She made clawing motions at one of the men as she said the word “scary.”

  There was general laughter and a relaxation of the tension in the room. sky waited for silence and then went on, passing around a piece of paper that listed the club rules and her name and phone number. “First of all, let me introduce myself. My name is sky, and I am the owner of this club. As you can see on the paper, I don’t use a capital s in my name. In case you’re not familiar with that convention, it’s because
I’m a submissive. Not all submissives spell their names in lowercase, but many do as a symbol of the hierarchy in their relationships. It’s not terribly important, but it is something that gets asked frequently.

  “This is a private membership-only club, which is why we can allow people to have sex on the premises. People come here for other reasons, too, though, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you all about. We practice BDSM here. You obviously know a little about this, since you’ve come tonight, but I’m going to assume that you don’t all know the same things and go over the basics as if you’d never heard any of it before. Bear with me if this isn’t new information. It probably is to someone.”

  She paused and beamed around the room again. “Feel free to stop me if you want to ask questions. I’ll be covering ground pretty quickly. So to start: I am a masochist. Basically, that means that I enjoy pain. Some people call me a pain slut.” She giggled. “That works. There are a lot of masochists here, but we have various degrees and kinds of stimulus that we like. As far as I know, none of us enjoys stubbing our toes or slamming our fingers in car doors. That is a completely different phenomenon. It’s also different from things like cutting, which I’m not going to go into here. That is a whole area of mental health that I am not qualified to discuss. What I can discuss is the fact that many people enjoying giving or receiving pain, and what the rules are in this club for engaging in that kind of activity.”

  She looked around the group, and when no one seemed to have questions, she continued. “In case any of you don’t understand what I’m talking about, let me explain it this way. It is not so much that we enjoy pain for pain’s sake, but that we love the sensations we feel from the endorphins released when pain is applied. It can let us experience something that is often called ‘subspace,’ which is an altered mental state. Imagine the best high possible but with none of the legal, moral, or physical risks.”

  “So this is just a way to get high?” One of the men at the table raised a hand, frowning skeptically.