A Little Band of Red

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A Little Band of Red Page 6

by Lily Freeman


  “Indy?”

  “Yes, PJ.”

  “What if …?”

  “Yes?”

  “What if he does that twice a week, every second month and I happened to be lucky number three? What if he completely ignores me on Saturday? I mean, I’m not stupid, I don’t expect him to feel anything for me, but …” Christ, how did she explain what was racing around her head? Grabbing her glass, PJ knocked back a good mouthful before she tried again. “If you meet someone and you like them, someone like Adam who obviously isn’t after an emotional commitment, how are you supposed to stop yourself from falling for them? I honestly don’t know if I can do that.”

  Indy scoffed in a very undignified manner. “How do you know he’s not after an emotional commitment? Did you not see the way he was looking at you before we left?”

  PJ hadn’t, she’d been far too embarrassed by her brazen reaction to him to actually meet his broody stare. “I’m still not buying it.” That got her a disgruntled sigh and a slap on the hand.

  “You don’t have to buy it, you just have to be open to it.”

  “Fuck, if I’d been any more open to it, he’d be paying me—by the hour.”

  “Slut.”

  “Yes. Exactly.” Just as PJ was about to refill her glass and drown her sorrows, her phone rang.

  “Rodger, what’s up?” But even before he answered, she knew.

  “We failed the inspection, Boss. We’ve got two days to sort it before they shut us down.”

  “What? Why?”

  “That fucking pitched section in the roof. It should have been reinforced, but it wasn’t on the plans.”

  “Can it be done in two days?”

  “No.”

  “But you’ll do it, right?”

  “Guess we’ll find out.”

  Suddenly the idea of standing around in a very cute black dress and lacy knickers while trying to protect her heart from the seductive advances of a gorgeous man seemed frivolous and unimportant because PJ could quite possibly have just lost her home.

  Chapter 6

  November 24th

  Luke closed the front door, only to lean heavily against it. His pulse was racing and his chest felt tight. The usual sense of relief he felt at coming home, just wasn’t there today. As he glanced along the hallway, taking in the antique umbrella stand his sister had given him last Christmas, and the framed prints of his niece and nephew that he’d received for his birthday, he tried to figure out why. It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced this suffocating sensation in the last few days.

  His trip to Germany had been hell; back-to-back meets with computer scientists, data analysts and the security advisors they’d brought in to protect their client. Leon Kaiser was right to be scared, he’d blown the whistle on what could quite possibly be one of the biggest cases of environmental fraud in the twenty-first century.

  What Luke was only just starting to realise, was that with every passing day, he was getting dragged closer and closer to the eye of the storm. He’d never dealt with a case that had such long reaching repercussions, and not just for the firm, but for a huge number of innocent employees. It scared him if he were honest, to be responsible for that many livelihoods. Still that was a problem for Monday, he had other more pressing matters to worry about today.

  Dropping his suitcase, he headed through to the kitchen. Everything was exactly as he’d left it—meticulously clean, organized—sterile. It hadn’t seemed that way when he’d left, then again he’d been running on adrenaline or serotonin or some other chemical that sadly had been missing from his life lately.

  Luke had tried not to think about Miss Lester while he’d been away, but every time he closed his eyes, even to blink, she’d been there waiting for him; that gorgeous little smile, that beautiful body. It had been so easy to slot her into his fantasies, casting her as the lead while he played a different role to the one he was used to. Could it really be that easy?

  Even now as he stood, staring out the window at his immaculate back garden, he understood that moving past the dark desires and cruel impulses that had ruled his life for so long, was going to be murder. He wasn’t a man to compromise for anyone, but over the last few days while he’d been alone, it had dawned on him that he was seriously running out of time if he ever wanted to settle down, and he did, now more than anything.

  After pouring a glass of water, Luke took a seat and opened his laptop. He had notes to write up and reports to read.

  Five minutes later, all he’d done was click on one of his private files. Every rope and handcuff, every whip and paddle, every tear, he knew them all with a familiarity that should have shocked him, and perhaps it did, yet for the first time he found no satisfaction in the images, felt no drive to recreate them, not with Polly Jayne anyway.

  What he wanted was something softer, intimate, but even as Luke let his mind wander, he couldn’t deny the rising sense of panic he felt. Did he even know how to be soft or compassionate? It had been so fucking long since he’d formed a connection with anyone. What if he didn’t remember how?

  With a trembling hand, he closed one file only to open another. Like the porn shots, the photos that documented the last fifteen years of his life were so familiar, yet with his future looming in front of him like a massive black hole, they too appeared different—or was it just him? The man in the photos was distant and aloof, always standing back, watching, but that was how Luke had chosen to conduct his life. Even his home was clinical, built with elegance in mind. There was no comfort or warmth to it, no lover’s touch to soften all the harsh lines.

  Luke closed the album then opened his work account. He had four hours to kill before he was due at Bond Street and if he couldn’t keep himself occupied, those four hours were going to be hell. As he started deciphering the reports, he was thinking about other things, like which suit he should wear—blue or black? Pinstripe or plain? And what cologne? Would she prefer spicy or fresh? Should he shave or leave the stubble? Would she—“Fuck!”

  Letting out a breath, he laughed, the sound echoing around the room. He was acting like a fucking teenager, hormones racing, heartbeat too. All of a sudden the cold oppressive weight that had settled over him weeks ago, started to lift.

  He could be happy, content and satisfied, living life and following his dreams if he could just let go of his past. Everyone had one, even the gorgeous Miss Lester presumably had some skeletons in her closet, yet it didn’t stop people from changing and moving on, and he could too, all he needed was the right motivation.

  In the end Luke chose the blue pinstripe. After he’d finally admitted defeat and given up on work, he’d logged into the Master’s page on the Bond Street website, hoping to gain some insight into Polly Jayne’s interests, unfortunately her file was still frustratingly empty other than a current medical and the basic information. There hadn’t even been a photo. In his head, Luke had memorized every detail, but what he’d seen had been so fleeting that night, his mood so volatile, disillusioned at where his life was headed. A tiny part of him still wondered if he’d filled in the gaps simply to satisfy his own needs, but he honestly didn’t think so. He was a rational, educated man, not known for his impulsive actions and that was why he’d spent the rest of the afternoon formulating a plan.

  The first step was to arrive early. As Luke headed out the door after one final look in the mirror, he felt confident. He could be charming when it was called for, attentive and considerate. She’d be none the wiser, not being a full member, that it was the complete opposite to how he usually interacted with his subs. The only real problem he could see was Adam.

  Forty minutes later Luke pulled into his car park behind the club. There was no denying the slightly accelerated beat of his heart, but for once it was excitement that fuelled it, not resentment or dread. It saddened him on some level that this was what his life had been reduced to, he was like a junkie in need of a fix, hating every second of it, yet doing it all the same. Not tonight though. Ton
ight really did feel like a new beginning for him.

  The club was deserted when he entered, only the bar staff and Gabriel milling around, making last minute preparations. Luke headed straight for the office, taking a seat in front of the monitors. Not only did it give him the perfect view of the foyer, but it also allowed him to keep an eye on other things, like the movements of certain members, ones he didn’t want anywhere near what he now considered his. When that thought had occurred or more importantly, how, he wasn’t sure. But sometime in the last few days he’d gone from just wanting to meet this woman to something much deeper and definitely more possessive.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” PJ really did, her stomach was churning that much.

  The last three days had taken a serious toll on her because other than keeping Rodger and his crew continually supplied with coffee and food, there’d been nothing she could do to help with the failed section of the roof. Again, they’d only just managed to rectify the situation before the inspector had returned, but thankfully this time they passed.

  “You’re not gonna be sick, you’re stalling. Come on.”

  Grabbing her hand, India tugged her out of the dark corner they’d been hiding in for the last five minutes and through the door.

  “Fine. I want you to know, I hate you right now.”

  “Good, then we’re even cause I hated you at ten o’clock this morning when that Spanish bitch pulled off my pubic hair.”

  A shudder rolled through PJ, her thighs locking tight as the super-sensitive newly waxed area between them throbbed in response. “Fuck that hurt.”

  The decision to book herself and Indy in for a full pre-bondage make over had been a rash one, but the result had definitely been worth the pain. Now though, as she stood frozen just inside the door, she was starting to feel that same nauseating sensation again. Everything around her was a visual assault, slamming into her from all sides: leather, lace, flesh, chains, naked bodies. PJ was stunned, speechless, about to turn around and run away when India grabbed her, tugging her further into the room.

  Utterly swamped by the number of members demanding her attention, Sasha smiled at them while pointing to the smaller desk beside the office door.

  “Wait there, I’ll get Clair to come and sign you in.”

  PJ nodded, fighting to keep dinner down while India stared off to the side, apparently lost for words as well. As PJ followed her gaze, she spotted the same huge black Dom who had stood in the corner on the intro night with his arms folded defensively across his chest, just watching India. She’d quizzed Indy on the way home, but other than a brief comment regarding his open hostility, she hadn’t said a word. The man was stunning though, all smooth ebony skin and brooding black eyes.

  PJ leaned closer, whispering in Indy’s ear. “Guess who’s watching you?”

  “Who?”

  “Your father, who do you think? That Dom, the big sexy black one. He looks pissed, Indy. What did you do?”

  Peering up at her friend, PJ couldn’t help but notice the uncertainty in India’s face, the slight tremble of her lower lip.

  “I have absolutely no idea. I never said a word to him and I behaved, I didn’t answer back or anything.”

  A young woman emerged from the office dressed from head to toe in black latex. With her severe black bob and pale make up, she was the perfect example of gothic chic. Her bright red fingernails flew over the keyboard for several seconds before she glanced up.

  “Hey newbies, I’m Clair. We need to give you some color. What’s your first name, Sweetie?”

  “I-India.”

  With a small surge of satisfaction PJ nudged an elbow into Indy’s ribs. “Bit nervous are we, Miss Ross?”

  Catching PJ’s hand in hers, Indy squeezed it tight. “Not at all, Miss Lester, got something stuck in my throat.”

  More and more members crowded the room as they shuffled further along the desk, but they weren’t the only ones moving. When PJ looked up, she was just in time to see Master Trey taking a step to the right, aligning himself perfectly with India once again.

  Clair disappeared behind the desk, popping up several times to check the screen before she handed a small collection of colored wristbands to Indy.

  “Now keep these on no matter what and if any of the Doms asks you something you don’t understand, show them your wrist and they can work it out themselves. Tonight you’re under Master Gabriel’s watch so if you want to play with anyone, he needs to okay it first, got it?”

  Tall blonde and gorgeous just nodded before PJ nudged her again. “Yes.”

  “Cool.”

  After some more frantic key tapping, Clair turned to PJ. “And you are?”

  “I’m PJ.”

  Once more Clair dropped down, her hand emerging after a few seconds with an assortment of vibrant colors: yellow, pink, teal, green, black, orange and red. But just as she was about to check the screen again, Sasha appeared.

  “Can you go and find Master Gabriel please? There’s a situation in dungeon three.”

  Clair grinned, reaching back under the desk.

  “Is it Master Vince again?” Handing over PJ’s selection of bands, she shut down the computer, smiling though her attention was already elsewhere.

  “Yeah, I don’t know why he bothers, it’s the same outcome every time.” Grabbing the phone, Clair stepped back into the office a second before it rang.

  “Are they just going to leave us?” Taking the handful of bands that meant nothing to her, PJ followed Indy as she subtly inserted herself into the cloakroom line. “And what do these mean?”

  “Apparently they are. And as for the bands, from what I remember and to be honest, it wasn’t much by that stage, black was penetration, teal restriction and pink is toys. I think orange is light impact, yellow, anal, I can’t remember what green is, but apparently you like it and I don’t, and I have no idea what red is. There’s a list inside the dungeons, but I switched off after purple, it was something to do with needles and I felt sick.”

  She felt sick; PJ could taste bile, she was that nervous.

  “Thank you very much, that gives me fuck-all to work with.”

  India stepped forward easing her coat off to reveal a gorgeous full-length black Asian gown. Split to the hip, she was all legs in her high heels and fishnets. Even in their secluded corner, people were staring yet Indy appeared totally unselfconscious as she stood waiting for PJ to follow suit, but she couldn’t. There were too many eyes, too many men, too many everything. When she took her coat off, with her dress or lack thereof, her legs, her ass, her cleavage, her back, she’d be more naked than not. “I can’t do this.”

  Turning around with her hands on her hips, Indy leaned closer. “Oh, like fuck. You’re here now, all dressed up and looking like every man’s wet dream. Get it off or I’ll do it for you.”

  “Indy?”

  “This is for your own good.”

  Two seconds later PJ’s coat was gone.

  “Master Luke, we need a hand in the dungeons, is anyone free?”

  Luke was free, but there was no way he was leaving the office. Miss Lester had just emerged from the crowd. “Master Adam’s in the main bar, send him down please, Clair.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  With a nod she left, which was a good thing because Luke was struggling to hide his smile. The relief he felt at not having to worry about Adam, at least for the next twenty minutes was immense. It gave him time, just a little, and that’s all he needed.

  Moving to the left, he watched her heading across the foyer, past the main desk and into the reception area. There were members everywhere now, standing in groups, their excitement building. Luke’s was too as his nerves kicked in, anticipation right there with it.

  With her back to him, all he could see was Polly Jayne’s exquisite mane of hair as it tumbled down to her waist. But there was a tension surrounding her, a wariness that he couldn’t ignore. She was clearly nervous, her shoulders hunched as she tried to hi
de behind the tall blonde standing in front of her.

  Across the way, the main doors opened. People moved, still in groups, and as the foyer emptied out, Luke got his first real look at something so far beyond adorable, he could barely breathe.

  White fishnet stockings covered her thighs right up until they hit a lace suspender belt. It was barely hidden by the non-existent back of her dress. If it weren’t for the large black bow in the center, she’d be completely exposed to him and every other man in the room, and woman. Those that remained were ogling her now, and he knew exactly what they were thinking because months ago, before his world started to crumble, he’d have thought the same thing. He wasn’t now though. His thoughts were heading in new directions, places he’d never been—jealousy, possessiveness, the urge to just storm out there and stake his claim.

  As she moved, so did he, each step measured by the deep breath he forced himself to take, to calm down. He didn’t want to scare her or come on too strong, he just wanted—her.

  Gasping because if she didn’t she was going to faint, PJ allowed herself to be very politely dragged into the club. With her unshakable confidence firmly back in place, India headed straight for the bar. There was a two-drink limit, and PJ was seriously contemplating whether sculling hers down back to back would make her feel less scared, or just scared and sick.

  Deciding it was worth the risk, she ordered a vodka and coke then propped herself firmly against the bar, taking her first real look at the club. The lighting had been dim on Tuesday night, and she’d been so totally overwhelmed by Master Adam that she hadn’t noticed a thing. Now as she studied her surroundings, she took in the layout of the room. In the center was a massive dance floor, completely surrounded by scene areas all kitted out with pieces of bondage apparatus that had her clenching her glass.

  “Drink it woman, don’t strangle it.”

 

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