Exhaling a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomach, Jillian glanced in the dresser mirror to check her reflection one last time. Per her husband’s request, she was wearing his favorite “little black dress” — a very form-fitting sheath made of shimmering black material that ended mid-thigh. The front had a high neck and long sleeves, giving the illusion of modesty, but the low-cut, backless design made it impossible for her to wear a bra, and the clinging material molded to her full breasts in a way he loved. The only thing she wore beneath were a pair of black lace panties.
As she waited for Dean to finish up in the bathroom, she slid her feet into a pair of strappy black stilettos then retrieved a velvet lined jewelry box from the safe in the closet and brought it back to her dresser. She opened the box, a reminiscent smile touching her lips as she viewed the long strand of pink-hued freshwater pearls that Dean had given to her a few months ago — and felt a flush of warmth cascade along her skin when she recalled exactly what he’d done with those pearls when they’d returned from dinner that long ago evening.
“Don’t put those on,” Dean said from behind her before she could lift the necklace from where it was nestled in black satin.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, her entire body going soft and warm as she took in her sexy, gorgeous husband in a tailored pair of black slacks and a black silk shirt that enhanced his dark, good looks. “Why not? This necklace goes so well with this dress.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I love that pearl necklace and its many uses,” he said, the heat in his gray eyes telling her that his memories of that night were just as vivid and erotic as her own. “But I have an anniversary gift for you.”
She frowned in confusion and turned around to face him. “I thought tonight’s invitation to The Players Club was my gift.”
“The invitation was for us,” he clarified, and handed her a flat, square jewelry box with a familiar jeweler’s name imprinted on top. His smile was boyishly charming. “I think after putting up with me for twenty years you deserve something special and just for you. I would have given this to you the night of our anniversary, but I had it custom made and it wasn’t quite ready.”
She absently caressed her fingers over the soft velvet lining the top of the box, certain he’d paid a small fortune for whatever was inside. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”
He pressed his fingers to her lips, and she was glad she hadn’t put any lipstick on yet. “I wanted to, and not a word out of your mouth about the cost, either,” he added, seemingly reading her thoughts. “I can afford to buy my wife nice things, and I shouldn’t be denied that pleasure.”
Knowing he meant what he said, that spoiling her was something he truly enjoyed, she pushed the lid open and was nearly blinded by the brilliant sparkle of diamonds. Lots and lots of diamonds and way too many for her to even count. She stared in shock at the necklace — both dazzled and stunned by the three rows of high quality, flawless stones that would encircle her neck. An elegant design of a D and J intricately joined was at the center of the breath-taking piece.
“Holy . . .” she swallowed back the unladylike curse word and raised her wide-eyed gaze to Dean, her heart beating like a drum in her chest. “Dean, this is too much!”
He rolled his eyes at her protest, as if he’d expected it. “Too damn bad. It’s a custom design, paid for and non-refundable. Not another word out of you, unless you’d like to break in the new ball gag I bought but we haven’t used yet,” he teased in a soft threat as he lifted the piece of jewelry from the box. “Now turn around so I can put it on you.”
Even as she wondered about his ball gag comment, she did as he asked and lifted her hair so he could put the jewelry around her neck and secure the clasp. Standing behind her, he looked over her shoulder and into the mirror reflecting both of their images.
“It’s perfect, just like you,” he murmured, strumming the tips of his fingers down her bare spine.
His light caress made her shiver and her nipples tighten against the fabric of her dress. The look in his eyes was so tender for a man with such a tough facade, and that emotion completely melted her heart. She touched her fingers to the smooth diamonds, which fit closely around her neck like a choker. “I truly love it. Especially our entwined initials.” Especially that.
“I designed it myself.” He smiled, clearly proud of himself. “I have one more surprise for you before we go.”
He went to his dresser and withdrew another box, this one small and white with no indication of what might be inside. A slight smirk canted the corner of his mouth as he gave her the gift. “I thought we’d make tonight more . . . interesting.”
His smooth, seductive drawl was like a caress in and of itself and her stomach suddenly tumbled with awareness as she opened the box, revealing a small, egg-shaped vibrator. The sex toy was compact, about two inches in diameter and length, and textured with at least two dozen nubs on the purple silicone sleeve encasing it.
“It’s a pleasure orb,” Dean said, his eyes twinkling wickedly. “It slips inside of you, it can vibrate, and it just so happens to come with a wireless remote. “Very clever and discreet, don’t you think?”
She swallowed hard, knowing exactly why he’d given her the present now, instead of surprising her with it one night in their playroom. “And you think I’m going to let you put that thing in me, then walk around with it buzzing inside me tonight?”
His grin turned positively sinful. “Of course you are,” he said presumptuously, before putting the remote in his pocket and plucking the toy from the box. “Now lift the hem of your dress so I can do the honors.”
“Your arrogance knows no bounds,” she grumbled, just because her husband was way too used to getting his way. “Fine, I’ll let you put the vibrator inside me, but do not abuse your power with the remote.”
He just smiled, oozing way too much bad boy charm. His non-verbal reply told her that he had no intention of following her orders, that he’d do what he wanted, when he wanted. The man was absolutely incorrigible, and goddamn irresistible.
Denying him was impossible, especially when she knew that what he wanted would turn them both on. Setting the box on the dresser, she pulled her dress up to her waist and he stepped closer, his gaze holding hers — brimming with pure alpha heat. He touched the egg to her belly, just above the waistband of her panties, and she shivered as the device started to hum very softly.
“Feet wide apart,” he commanded softly.
The assertive note to his voice made her melt deep inside, made her wet with desire, forcing her to admit just how much she loved this more sexually dominant side to Dean’s personality. She braced her stilettos apart, opening her legs and allowing him all the access he needed. She was already starting to pant, her anticipation so strong as she waited for the vibrator to make contact with her clit so she could come.
He slipped his hand, and that thrilling orb, into her panties and along her smooth, bare mound. Her thighs were shaking by the time he reached her soft nether lips, her sex aching with need.
“You’re already dripping wet,” he murmured, triumphant with the discovery. “You want to come, don’t you, baby girl?”
She nodded jerkily as he let the vibrator brush across her clit like a flickering kiss. “Yes, please.” And what a lovely start to the evening that would be.
He sighed in disappointment, and deliberately kept the caress of the toy light and fleeting, which only served to make her even more sensitive. “There’s that impatience again,” he said, reminding her of times in the past when he’d chastised her for not having any restraint — for being greedy and wanting an orgasm now, instead of allowing the pleasure to build, which he preferred.
Knowing that Dean always got his way, there was no doubt in her mind that he was going to tease and torment her with the orb, and keep her climax at bay until he decided he was ready to give it to her — both a thrilling and frustrating prospect.
She gasped as he pushed th
e device inside her body and the oval object nestled right along her g-spot. The soft, pulsating sensation fluttered against the sensitive lining of her sheath, and even when Dean withdrew his hand and she was able to squeeze her legs together again, no amount of pressure could relieve the too elusive need for satisfaction, not unless he increase the speed of the vibrator.
And the rogue knew it, too.
She shoved her dress back down into place. Her body was cruising just below climaxing, like an itch begging to be scratch but was just beyond her reach. It made her nerve endings spark with heat, made her nipples tight and hard. She was tempted to touch herself and enjoy a quick orgasm — because if she didn’t, he was going to keep her completely distracted with his new toy.
Reaching out a hand, she cupped the hard length of his cock straining against the fly of his pants, gratified to see that he was just as affected. Then an idea popped into her head. “How about a quick blow job in exchange for my orgasm before we leave?” It seemed like more than a fair trade to her.
His gaze flickered with amusement. “Who knew you had such bartering skills?”
She was beginning to feel a bit desperate with the faint strum of the vibrator taunting her with what her body craved. “I just know that I’m going to be on edge all night if you don’t let me come now, at least once.”
He gave her a shameless smile. “That will make two of us, and just think how good it’s going to be when I finally do let you come.”
“Bastard,” she said, meaning it in the most loving way possible. “I should make you wear your vibrating cock ring so you know what this feels like.”
He chuckled. “Not gonna happen, sweetheart. Not tonight, anyways.”
“Then how about I just give myself an orgasm,” she said, and slid her hand back under her dress so that she could press her fingers against her clit. Relief was only a few strokes away.
He grabbed her wrist in a tight grip and jerked her hand away. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, his eyes turning a dark, threatening shade of slate. “If you do anything to make yourself come before I allow you to, your ass is going to be so pink and sore you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
She shivered, imagining how erotic it would feel for him to spank her while the orb thrummed inside her. The thought made her breathless. “Then turn the damn thing off and give me a break. I’m so freakin’ aroused I can’t think straight!”
His hand disappeared into his pants pocket, and second later the toy stopped vibrating, thank God.
“There you go, for now.” He arched a dark, mocking brow. “Better?”
She exhaled, grateful for the blessed reprieve, though her body was still humming deep inside, even without the constant stimulation. “Much better, you sadist,” she said, only half-joking.
“Oh, you have no idea,” he murmured, taking no offense to her comment as he strolled into the bathroom and washed his hands, then returned a moment later. “Ready to go?”
Jillian nodded, as ready as she’d ever be.
Five minutes later they were in Dean’s Aston Martin, with him at the wheel as he drove them toward their destination for the evening.
The Players Club was tucked away in the hills of Fallbrook and overlooked the city, the vast, multi-acre estate protected by an impenetrable iron gate that only opened after approval from one of the two guards on duty. From there, a long, winding driveway led the way even higher, the smooth, paved roadway fringed by impeccably landscaped grounds that were green, lush, and illuminated by low profile Malibu lighting.
The road came to an end at an enormous circular drive, where they were greeted by a valet who whisked away Dean’s car and left them standing in front of the monstrous, majestic mansion that was three stories tall and so incredibly wide it took up most of the mountainside. The architecture was Mediterranean in style, with arches and columns, and stone and tile detailing. From the outside, there was nothing to indicate that this gorgeous, luxurious house was a club that catered to all sorts of sexual adventures and taboo desires.
At the realization that they were actually about to step inside The Players Club and indulge in some of those kinks, her stomach did one of those slow tumbles that encompassed both excitement and a bit of nervousness.
As if completely in tune to her emotions, Dean took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and rife with understanding. “Because if you’re uncertain about going inside, it’s not too late to change your mind.”
Her husband was such a bold, domineering man in most aspects of his life, but it was times like this, when he exposed that rare, sensitive side that he kept so deeply buried that Jillian fell deeper in love with him. It meant everything to her that he took her feelings into consideration, that even now that they’d been admitted into the estate he was still willing to turn right back around and leave at her say so.
But despite her nerves, that wasn’t what she wanted. “I’m good,” she said, her reply completely honest. “It’s just a little fear of the unknown.”
The tips of his fingers touched her face and skimmed along her jaw. “If there is anything at all that makes you uncomfortable once we’re inside, just say the word and we’re outta there, got it?”
She smiled, that bit of security making all the difference. “Thank you.”
Dean tucked her hand possessively in the crook of his arm as they headed up the stairs and into the open courtyard, complete with a four-tiered marble fountain. The double front doors to the mansion were giant-sized and inlaid with beveled glass, and just as they arrived they opened. A pretty blonde haired woman greeted them, introducing herself as Cindy, one of the club’s hostesses for the evening.
After double-checking to make sure they were on the approved list, she led them into a large, spacious room that had been transformed into a bar and lounge, where most singles and couples mingled before venturing off to various areas of the mansion. Per the dress code for the lounge area, everyone was dressed decently — the women in nice outfits that covered all the essentials and the men in slacks and shirts, as if they were attending a normal cocktail party and not hanging out in a sex club.
The vibe was upscale, yet intimate. Elegant, yet seductive. Most everyone seemed familiar and friendly with each other as they conversed and socialized, giving Jillian the impression that they’d been here before and already knew the ropes, so to speak. Considering the exclusivity of the club, she and Dean were probably only a few of the first-timers there, but the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. As they strolled into the lounge, inviting smiles were cast their way, as well as interested glances from both men and women.
“There’s Mac and a few of my guys,” Dean said, and with his big, warm hand splayed against the small of her bare back, he escorted her in that direction.
As they approached the circle of men, Mac glanced up, saw them, and offered her a wolfish grin. The man was an outrageous flirt, even with her, and never missed an opportunity to let all that sexy charm work to his advantage. He was also like a brother to Dean, and there was no shortage of ribbing and rivalry between the two, with her sometimes caught in the middle.
Ignoring Dean completely, Mac stepped up to her, grabbed her hand, and kissed her on the cheek. “I keep waiting for you to realize what a schmuck Dean is and run away with me,” he said, a teasing light in his dark blue eyes that reminded her of rich sapphires. “Care to be persuaded this evening?”
She bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. Mac was truly the one man who could talk to her so boldly and actually get away with it.
“Back off, Romeo,” Dean said before she could issue her own response. “She prefers quality over quantity.”
“Why don’t we let her be the judge of that?” Mac replied smoothly, just to antagonize Dean a bit more.
Dean scowled at him. “Don’t make me kick your ass here, in front of all these nice people, and get your membership revoked.”
“Nex
t time, then,” Mac said, winking at her. He turned to the other two men standing just behind him, who’d been watching the exchange with amusement, and introduced them. “You remember Logan and Sawyer, don’t you?”
Jillian nodded. She’d met both of them, and others, at a fund-raiser they’d all attended a few months ago. Both men were extremely good looking and built like The Rock. “Nice to see you two again.”
“Same here,” they replied in unison.
Despite these men working for Dean, there was no awkwardness between any of them. Clearly, they were all comfortable here at The Players Club, and with the situation, which made everything so much easier for Jillian.
“I was just going to head to the bar to get a drink,” Mac said, inclining his head toward her. “Would you like to come with me? These boys have a few work related things to discuss before the fun begins.”
“Sure.” She slipped her hand into his extended arm. “I’d love a glass of wine.”
Mac led her away, and from behind her she heard Dean say in a low growl, “Keep your eyes off my wife’s ass,” to one of the other two men in the group.
“Sorry, sir,” Logan said, sounding startled that he’d been caught.
Mac chuckled, having heard the conversation, too. “I have to admit, I’m having a hard time not looking at your ass in that dress. You look fantastic, by the way.”
She thanked him with a smile. “Dean and I have established a look but don’t touch rule that goes both ways, so he shouldn’t be snapping at one of his guys when I’ve seen plenty of the women in here staring at him, too.”
“He’s just marking his territory, as I would if you were with me,” he said as they reached one end of the bar. “Speaking of Dean marking his territory, that’s a stunning collar you’re wearing. It pretty much guarantees that any man looking at you knows you’re taken.”
Startled by his descriptive word, and what it implied, her fingers fluttered to the diamond choker encircling her throat. “Collar?”
Spice Box; Sixteen Steamy Stories Page 45