Claimed: The Decadence Club

by Alyssa Clark

  Consider me a beast soothed.

  I felt her get heavy with sleep again and I started to follow. The peace and comfort lasted all of five minutes, maybe, before her fucking phone started going off again. So I turned into her embrace and latched onto her collarbone, digging my teeth in.

  Her breath caught, and she made a choking noise. “Phone’s ringing again,” I managed as I gnawed on her. “Get up and take care of it.”

  She whined and let go of my head, so I let go of her. She slid out from under me and for some God forsaken reason went to my jeans. She pulled out my phone and tossed it to me. It landed on the bed, and I could see from the tiny faceplate on the outside that I not only hadn’t gotten any calls, but we’d only had about four hours of sleep.

  “S’not me.” I looked at her. I should’ve told her that in the beginning but morning wood was enjoying the sight of her naked in front of me.

  A troubled look crossed her face, and she went digging through her clothes. She came up with a phone that looked like it cost more than my entire damn apartment. She held it in her hand as it vibrated and made no move to answer it. It was enough for me to ignore my dick and sit up. She just bit her lip as she looked at it, the call going to voicemail. It didn’t seem to surprise her when it immediately started to ring again.

  I got up and looked over her shoulder, it was a number I didn’t recognize, but I hadn’t really expected to. I reached around her to accept the call and pressed the icon for speakerphone.

  “Tabitha,” a male voice echoed into my apartment. “That’s enough dodging. You’ve made your point. Come home.”

  “Who’s that?” I didn’t bother to be quiet. If she were married, I figured she would’ve said so. The only thing she’s mentioned so far was the previous man that had been her ‘Master.’

  “Who the fuck is that?” the voice barked in return.

  I grunted, “Answer my question first.”

  “That bitch is mine,” it growled through the phone. “If you put your fucking hands on her I swear to God I’ll make you regret it.”

  “This the guy you talked about the other night?” I asked her, and I got a nod. I didn’t repress my snort, I wasn’t impressed by his attempted threat. “Let me tell you,” I spoke to the phone, “this bitch ain’t yours anymore. But if you want to come make something of it, I’ll be more than happy to show you who the real bitch is. Tabitha belongs to me now.”

  “You pathetic little whore,” the voice hissed, and I got the distinct impression he wasn’t talking to me. “Filthy piece of trash--” I hit the end call button because I really didn’t want to listen to him berate her.

  “You married to that?” I asked as I took her phone and went to sit back down on the bed. It wasn’t something I really cared about but if I was gonna have any legal ramifications from it I felt like I needed to know. I’d be able to give Suzanne a heads up before shit hit the fan.

  “No,” she followed me and sat on the edge of the bed beside me. She reached over to type in her passcode, willingly giving me access to everything on her phone. “I have a restraining order against him. He’s not supposed to come within fifty feet of me.”

  “Think he knows you’re here?” I opened up her call history and scrolled to see a varying numbers calling her all within the early morning hours. None answered. I went to her voicemail, and there was at least one message from each number.

  I touched the first one and hit speaker. “Tabby, baby, c’mon home. Please. It's been long enough. I promise… it’ll be better this time. It’ll be different. Just me and you and no one else.” Curiosity had me checking the next one, and I wished I hadn’t when a much angrier voice started, “Answer the fucking phone you incompetent bitch!” I decide against listening to any of the other ones.

  “I hope he doesn’t,” she answered after a length.

  A text message came through, and I opened it to see a string of profanity as if the man had pulled up the Sailor’s Thesaurus so he’d have every foul word available to call her. I snorted back a laugh because he seemed way too extra when it came to accepting rejection. “I usually block the number when I realize it was him,” she admitted.

  That explained the different numbers. I opened up the messenger and confirmed that it there were varying texts that all seemed to have a similar tone to the last one she just received.

  “Why haven’t you changed your number?” I asked.

  “I have,” she sounded so small when she said it. “Twice.”

  “You’re scared?” I got a nod, and I closed her phone and handed it to her. “Stop.” I wrapped my arm around her middle. “You ain’t got shit to worry about, the only thing you gotta worry about now is me. Got me?”

  Her face went pink, and she looked at me, there wasn’t lust looking back at me like there’d been before. I couldn’t put a name to what I saw reflected in her eyes.

  “If you’re going to take care of me… let me take care of you.” She leaned against me. “Let me take you home.”

  I took that to mean to her place. I grimaced a little but didn’t pull away. It was something I wasn’t prepared for, especially since there was still so much we didn’t know about one another. Her ex-psycho was the first personal thing I’d learned about her that didn’t include any sort of variation on sex.

  “It’s way too early to make that call,” I started after a length. “Let’s go back to sleep, and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  Never mind the fact that it was morning.

  I just hoped that after getting enough sleep I’d have a better head on my shoulders to consider her offer.

  12

  I managed to send Tabitha on her way before any in-depth discussion could occur. It seemed like her need to take me home would just take things down a more serious level. It was like the more I learned about her, the more she would want. I didn’t know if I was capable of giving her what she wanted.

  I was appealed by the idea of being taken care of, I liked the idea of repeating the sex we had this morning on a regular basis. You didn’t get that shit for free. There was a catch here, I just hadn’t figured out what it was yet. I couldn’t figure out what Tabitha wanted from me, outside of being tied up and spanked.

  There had to be more to it.

  “Mr. Davis.” I blinked out of my revere, looking up to see the psychiatrist that led the group meeting. “You’ve been awful quiet, would you like to add anything?”

  “To what?” I didn’t daydream often, so I felt a little put out about the fact that I’d been caught and then called out on t.

  “Techniques for keeping your temper. From what I hear from Mrs. Evans you’ve been doing very well with all the requirements that led to you being released on parole.” He looked down at a legal pad before his gaze connected with mine. “What helps keep you from becoming hot under the collar?”

  I shrugged uncomfortably. “Keeping a regular workout routine. If I work out any pent up aggression deflates.” I hated being made the center of attention, and I’m pretty sure this prick knew that. Just like he knew I don’t have an anger management issue. But if he’s gonna fuck with me, I might as well give him a little right back. “Sex helps, too.”

  “Are you kidding?” A brick wall of a man grunted at me, he was covered in tattoos, and I was willing to bet he spent more time behind bars than I did. “Women ain’t nothing but trouble.”

  “Sex ain’t gotta involve just women,” another man quipped while giving him a flirtatious look, he was slender and slightly effeminate. “Didn’t you have a prison wife or were you the wife?”

  “Fuck off,” was growled at him.

  “Now now,” the psychiatrist fretted, looking as if he was losing control of the situation fast. “Edward is right, sex doesn’t have to be limited to a partner of the opposite sex. As long as you’re practicing safe sex no matter who you have intercourse with.” But it was clear no one was listening to him now, but me.

  “I ain’t gay,” the brick wall of
a man growled.

  “Hunny no one said you were.” Edward folded his arms as he scoffed at the other man. I couldn’t hide my own amusement. How’d this guy get shafted with having to do this? If he served time, I was surprised he made it out alive.

  “Now, now,” the psychiatrist spoke up again, louder this time. I got a glare for my troubles, and I couldn’t help but feel smug. That’s what he gets for drawing attention to me. “Let’s stay on topic. We don’t need to venture down a path that will insight anger into others.”

  The group meeting went on, and I was, fortunately, spared from anymore probing questions. I only half listened to the man leading it. I was only here because I had to be and as soon as Suzanne had me in the clear I’d have this hour back to myself.

  It's not that I saw this as a complete waste of time, I’m sure people dealing with out of control bouts of rage found help here. I just didn’t see myself as the type to let my emotions take hold of me. I was in control. Control was something that was important to me.

  It always had been.

  The reason I was here was because I had misread a situation and thought I could help. I just didn’t realize help wasn’t wanted. There ain’t shit I can do about a girl not wanting to get out from under the thumb of an asshole that was manhandling her. All I can do is hope she came to her senses at some point. It was feasible. Battered women got away from their abusive significant other’s all the time.

  Tabitha was an example of that.

  I glanced at the psychiatrist with a new wave of interest. Maybe he could be useful after all.

  When the meeting ended, I decided to linger. Doctor Whathisface, I couldn’t remember his name, was talking to ‘Brickwall’ about how important control was and how finding an outlet would help. It didn’t take long for him to realize I was there.

  “Keep working on it, Tony,” he said to Brickwall. “Remember breathing and counting to ten when you feel like you’re at your wit’s end. They help.”

  “Try a punching bag,” I said to him. “A real punching bag, not a person. Not your girl. If you have the urge to hit your girl, then you need to get out. That’s never an option, man.”

  Brickwall, Tony, nodded at me as he considered my words. “I got a gym membership at this cheap place on Eleventh. I’ll see if they got a bag I can wail on. I don’t wanna hit on Cindy. Sometimes she just makes me want to pull my hair out, I can’t fuckin’ stand it.”

  I took note of the fact that he was balding, I grimaced and drug a hand through my own hair. “Find a calm moment and talk to her. If she’s a good chick, she’ll work with you. If not, then cut her loose.”

  I got another nod and a handshake before he left me with the doctor.

  “It’s sound advice,” the thinner man said beside me. “But I don’t know that you really understand his situation enough to be giving him such advice. For all you know, you could be creating more trouble for him.”

  “Have you ever just beat the shit out of a punching bag?” I looked at him, I could see he wasn’t going to answer me by the way his eyes darted away and the way his mouth set into a thin line. “When you hit the bag, and you let go of all the shit you had bunched up in you, it's gone. Anything that sticks around is a problem that has to be dealt with.”

  “Mr. Davis,” he said after a length. “I don’t know that you’re really getting the full spectrum of these meetings. I think I’m going to have to call your parole officer and recommend that we up your meetings from once a month to twice a month.”

  I felt something in me twitch. At any other time before having to do a stint behind bars, I might have gut-checked a guy like this. Now I knew better. I shrugged at him. “If you can convince her it's necessary. Something tells me she might not agree with you. The only reason she insists I come to this shit is because it’s court ordered.” I took a step closer to him. “But something tells me you don’t really get why I’m here.”

  “I’d rather you come to the less populated group,” he said after a length of just glaring at me. “They’re the third Wednesday of the month at noon.”

  “I work nights,” I rolled a shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do, but I make no promises.” I looked away from him and decided to broach the subject of why I hung around. “I have a question that doesn’t have shit to do with this.”

  The other man hummed curiously, “Go ahead.”

  “My girl…” it felt odd referring to her that, but I had just laid my claim to her earlier this morning. I had called her mine. “She just got out of an abusive relationship before she got to me. What can I do to help her move past the prick?”

  The doctor made a noise that might have been surprised. “You want to help her move on? If she’s with you, she’s already on the path to moving on from him.”

  “He still harasses her,” I supplied. “So she’s not fully rid of him, yet.”

  “Ah.” He paused before going to his desk. I watched as he rifled around in a drawer. “First thing you need to make sure the police are well aware of the harassment.”

  “She has a restraining order against him,” I said, though I didn’t know what good restraining orders did. I’d never given a girl a reason to put one on me. As far as I knew they were just a piece of paper.

  He made a noise that sounded like concern, and he seemed to find what he was looking for. He pulled out a card and offered it to me. “Do what you can to make her feel safe, protected. That’s something you should excel at.”

  I took the card, it was had a name and phone number on it that I didn’t really bother to read. I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to go on.

  “That’s the number of a friend of my that specializes in treatment for domestic abuse victims. She can also help her in taking steps to get off of his radar.” He looked proud of himself as he said it. “If your girlfriend puts herself out of reach of her ex then the harassment will stop.”

  It sounded like it made sense. I slipped the card into my back pocket. My only worry is if she disappeared of that asshole’s radar would that make her move off of mine, too?

  “Thanks, man,” I nodded at him. This was something I’d have to think about. I liked the idea of calling Tabitha mine, having a claim on her. But something about her suddenly disappearing was something I’d like to not have to face.

  “You’re very welcome, Mr. Davis.” He looked a little surprised. “Maybe I was wrong about the extra session being necessary. I just ask that you try not to create a scene as you did today.”

  “Just let me show my face here and be on my way; then you don’t have to worry about it.” It was that simple. I gave him a respectful nod, because he did give me some sort of help, and found my way out of the conference room that the group meetings were held in.

  That was one thing down, now I just had to hunt up Angela for the other.

  Not surprisingly, she was at the club. When I banged on the door to be let in, I was surprised to see her. She stood on the step in a leather and lace get up that I couldn’t help but step back and take in. “Damn,” it came out in a breath. Her breasts were hitched up and on display, and her legs were covered in stockings that made them look like they went on for miles.

  She rolled her eyes. “And here I thought you wouldn’t be typical. What did you want Mr. Davis?”

  “This shit ain’t for me?” I asked, because why else would a woman come to the door in lingerie? If she wanted to put the moves on me, she shoulda done it before I shacked up with Tabitha. I woulda hit that.

  “No,” she barked at me getting my attention. “This isn’t for you. Now you can come in and tell me what you wanted, or you can go so I can get back to work.”

  Oh, damn. I adjusted my jeans pointedly to give my dick a little bit more room. “I need some help in, I guess, what is your expertise.”

  Her brows went up. “Be specific.”

  “I don’t know how to handle what Tabitha wants me to do to her. The specifics...” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to not feel
embarrassed by not knowing how to please a woman. “I don’t know how to please her outside of tying her up and spanking her. I know she wants more than that.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t look surprised though. She stepped back and motioned me in. “Before I allow you into my parlor, I’ll have to make sure my client is okay with you supervising. So you will have to wait in the lobby.”

  I shrugged at her before I stepped past her. I heard her latch the lock before she slipped past me. It gave me the perfect view of her ass in that tiny little thong. Did she say she was with a client? That quirked my curiosity, and I watched her drift into the hallway that led behind the rooms that were usually used by the club goers. Where the hell was she going?

  I stayed put, it seemed like the bright idea since I was asking her a favor. Not something I normally did. It didn’t take her long to go wherever and come back.