It’s when the Jillian I am to the outside world slips away, and the Jillian that belongs only to Leo takes her place.
He’s still not satisfied. He grips my thighs and presses them farther apart until my muscles strain. I suck in my breath as my dress slides indecently up my legs, the fabric bunching at my hips.
I gulp. This is happening. This is real. It’s not a dream I’m talking about and exploring on my couch while Leo plays over my clit, but real.
Behind him, I see people stopping to watch, enjoying the show.
My body clenches.
Leo smiles, and then turns to a guy standing next to him. “What do you think?”
The guy is handsome, blond and tall, dressed in a business suit. He steps closer to me, close enough to see the gold shards in his brown eyes.
“No touching,” Leo says.
The guy nods, puts his hands behind his back and starts to circle me.
I glance at Leo and his dark eyes are hot and hungry on mine, he nods.
I shiver, my brain caught in a suspended place between living my fantasy and uncertainty.
The guy comes to stand in front of me again. I give him a brilliant smile and he chuckles. “Having fun, girl?”
Am I? I lick my lips. “Yes.”
He shifts his attention to Leo. “She’s quite beautiful. But it seems like she’s missing something.”
“I agree,” Leo says and steps back up. “I know just the thing.”
Right in front of the stranger, he slides his fingers deep inside me, and I gasp at the sudden, forceful shock of his entry. When he pulls away, his fingers are slick with my wetness. He paints my lips with the evidence of my desire, the undeniable proof that I’m exactly this kind of girl. He does it again, his thumb on my clit. I pulse in his hand on a stuttery gasp.
He retreats, and once again paints my lips so my arousal fills my senses, making me feel like everyone in this room is experiencing it right along with me. It only heightens the exposure. Fuels my desire.
Leo once again steps back. “She’s still missing something.”
And suddenly, Brandon is next to him, looking me up and down. He shrugs. “She’s not very exposed, now is she?”
“Good point,” Leo says, as though he’s given the matter serious thought.
I wrinkle my nose at Brandon, who grins at me, steps up and whispers in my ear, “You don’t fool me, I know who you are.”
They don’t fool me either. I know how they operate. Leo knows exactly what he’s going to do, and how. He doesn’t leave important things like this to chance.
With Brandon standing in front of me, Leo comes to stand next to him. “This isn’t going to work at all.”
“Nope.” Brandon crosses his arms.
“If you’re going to be a cock tease, you might as well go all the way and do it properly, don’t you think?” Leo asks, his head tilted.
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure I can speak. I might hyperventilate.
Brandon smiles at me. “In the back, I have a room set up just for her. All it has is a table and a spotlight.”
Leo cocks a brow. “Sounds right up your alley, doesn’t it?”
I can only gulp. Is he really going to do this? Allow strangers to watch as he takes me? Do I want that?
Leo slides his fingers up my thighs, and he’s hitting slick flesh before he even reaches any place good. “Someone likes that idea.”
If I’m so aroused, I must, right?
“Why am I not surprised?” Brandon asks.
Leo hooks his fingers into the silver circle at my throat. “You’re mine. And you’re going to show every single person here that you perform for me. Understand?”
I’m going to combust. Right here at the table. In front of god and everyone. “Yes, Leo.”
He tugs and the leather band around my throat tightens. “Let’s go.”
And down the rabbit’s hole I go.
Ruby
Leo and Jillian walk away and I sit there, drink in hand, staring into the clear bubbly liquid. My heart is pounding hard, and my cheeks feel hot. I want to press the cool glass against my forehead to soothe my flushed skin.
“You okay there?” Chad asks, his voice thoughtful.
I jerk my attention to him, blinking back to the reality of my surroundings, surprised to find I’m in what now looks like a very upscale, expensive club. I clear my throat. “Yep, I’m good.”
“Are you sure?” Chad’s blue eyes peer into me, expression intent on my face.
I swallow and nod. “Yes.” But my voice doesn’t sound at all sure.
He smiles and slides his glass down on the table before taking my own from my fingers and placing it next to his. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed, you know. It’s normal.”
I want to object that I’m perfectly fine, but something stops me. Maybe it’s the set of his jaw. The way he’s looking at me, not with judgment or arrogance, but with what looks like genuine concern. I find myself asking, “It is?”
He nods then chuckles. “The first time I went to this kind of party I was in shock. It was like a train wreck where I couldn’t look away.”
My eyes widen and some of the tension knotting my stomach eases. “Yes, that’s exactly what it feels like.”
“You’re not alone, I think it’s like that for everyone.” He rubs his hand along the back of his neck and laughs. “The first time I went with a friend of mine, and I wasn’t into the scene at all. He took me to a hardcore leather club. My first and last trip.”
“You didn’t like it?”
He shudders before flashing me a grin. “I walked in, and it was dark. Like a cave. The first scene I passed was a woman sewing a guy’s lips together. I almost passed out from the shock.”
I cringe. “Oh my god, I’d have died.”
“I almost did.” He winces. “I’ve never been into that kind of extreme pain, needles and instruments.” He shivers. “I hate blood. Much to my father’s disappointment.”
“Why would your dad be disappointed?” It’s hard to imagine him being a disappointment to anyone.
He shrugs. “I come from a family of doctors. Being a computer geek is kind of a letdown.”
It’s something we have in common and it surprises me. “I can understand that. My family thinks I’m from outer space. Although, you’d be right up their alley.”
He grins. “Why’s that?”
I shrug and wave my hand over him. “You’re all clean cut and employed.”
He laughs. “That’s all it takes, huh?”
“They have simple requirements.” Whatever he’s doing is working, because I’m starting to relax. That horrible lonely feeling is starting to fade. I want to kiss him in gratitude. “So, if you weren’t into that scene, why did you go?”
He tilts his head. “Same reason as you, I was curious.”
I bite my lower lip and he tracks the movement. I contemplate, but find myself admitting the truth to him. “I wish I’d stayed home.”
He drains his glass and shifts to face me more fully, putting his arm on the back of the couch where we’re sitting. “Why didn’t you?”
I blow out a breath and shrug. “I guess I wanted to see what the fuss was about.”
“And do you? See the fuss?”
Do I? I shake my head. “I don’t think I get it.”
He nods, but doesn’t ask me more questions.
“Aren’t you going to try and convince me I’m wrong?” I’m not sure why I ask, maybe because everyone seems so sure this is better.
His eyes narrow on me. “Nope.”
I experience a stirring of awareness, not sexual, just… something. “Why?”
“If it doesn’t turn you on, it doesn’t turn you on.” Over my head, he catches the attention of someone in back of me, raises his hand and signals for two more drinks. “It’s not up to me to decide that for you.”
I drain my glass and stare into the ice cubes, glittering under the soft light. “It’s hard, yo
u know, when they all seem so in love.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He laughs. “Sometimes they are a bit sickening in their devotion.”
He understands. He’s listening. I can talk to him and I don’t feel like he’s judging me. It’s a strange experience, this notion I can admit stuff to him I can’t admit to my best friend. I clear my throat. “I’m jealous.”
“I know. I can see it on your face.” He puts his hand on the back of my neck, and his fingers are cool on my overheated skin. I meet his gaze.
As strange as it sounds, I get lost in the blue of his eyes. The soft understanding in them. “You don’t think I’m terrible?”
He shakes his head. “I think you’re human.” His thumb traces down the curve of my throat and tingles break along my skin. “Just remember, Ruby. It’s not the kink that makes them that way. It’s being with the right person.”
I nod, and as he stares into my face, some of my jagged emotions smooth over. I breathe in and out, slow and deep, and an almost meditative haze creeps over me.
He doesn’t break eye contact.
Doesn’t flinch away.
He just breathes in a rhythm that matches my own until I feel almost calm.
The serenity is ripped away by a female voice. “Anything else?”
Both Chad and mine’s head whips to the sound and I see the angel girl from before staring at us. She doesn’t look happy. Chad’s hand falls away and he gives her that all American smile of his. “I think we’re good here, thanks.”
The girl looks from me to Chad, back and forth, until it settles on him. “Can I still show you around?”
Chad tilts his head toward me. “Maybe later, I can’t leave her alone.”
I start to protest, but his hand clasps my bare knee and squeezes. I about jump out of my skin at the contact.
The girl glances at me before offering an overly bright smile. “Maybe later then?”
He nods. “I’ll try and catch up with you.”
“Okay.” She frowns and walks away.
I point after her. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” Chad says.
“You don’t have to babysit me.” I don’t want him to stay because he’s obligated. Because he doesn’t want to leave me alone.
He turns and looks at me, his expression taking on that hard edge I’ve seen Leo, Brandon and Michael wear, reminding me what he is. “If I wanted her, I’d have her.”
He doesn’t seem inclined to elaborate. I try not to think about my relief at his words. I clear my throat and ask before I can think, “You don’t want her? She’s beautiful.”
“She is.” He shrugs and takes a drink. “But I can find a girl like her whenever I want. Don’t worry, by the end of the night she’ll be on to someone else.”
“How do you know?”
“She likes to play as they call it. As long as she finds someone attractive, agreeable, and willing to give her what she wants, she’ll be happy.”
I tilt my head. “How can you possibly know that?”
He winks at me. “I’d love to say it’s some awesome power where I can read a girl’s thoughts, but that would be a lie. I suspected. Brandon confirmed.”
When did they even have that conversation? Because, I can’t recall them talking. It must have been when I was lost in my own head and not paying attention.
I bite my lower lip, pick up a napkin and twist it in my hand. “But still, wouldn’t you rather go have fun than sit here and be bored with me?”
“I don’t find you boring.” He shifts again so he’s looking more fully at me. “And I’m not much for casual play scenes. Honestly, that’s what bores me.”
I don’t let on, but I can’t pretend I’m not happy to hear that. I find I don’t want him going off with some other girl. I don’t know why, but it’s true.
He gives me a smirk. “Besides, she picked me because she thinks I’m easy going and I’m not in the mood to disabuse her of the notion.”
The statement is like a jolt of awareness. Nervous, I run a finger over my glass. “I think you’re easy going.”
“I am,” he says, then grins at me. “Until I’m not.”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know what that means.”
He laughs. “Layla told me you sing at The Whisky.”
I blink at the sudden subject change. “Yeah. On Thursday and Saturday nights.”
“Can I come watch you sometime?”
The question startles me and I blurt, “Why?”
“I like music. Layla told me you have a lovely voice and I’d like to hear it.”
“Sure,” I say, the words slow. “I certainly can’t stop you.”
“True.” He meets my gaze again. “But I’d respect your wishes if you didn’t want me to.”
“I’d like that.” To my surprise, I think I would.
“Good.” He pauses, as though thinking of something before he continues, “And, Ruby.”
“Yes?” My voice is a bit breathless.
“I’m not going to leave you here alone.”
I want to laugh it off. Make light of the statement. But something stops me, because his words are a relief. I don’t want to be left alone. I want someone by my side, protecting me from the roller coaster of emotions bombarding me tonight. So I say with complete sincerity, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Oh good,” Brandon says from next to us, having suddenly appeared, “I’m glad you’re both still here. How about that tour?”
Until that moment I hadn’t realized how close I sat to Chad and I jerk away, feeling caught or guilty somehow.
Brandon flashes me a grin.
I do feel better now. Chad helped me and I can only be grateful. I turn to him. “What do you say?”
He smiles. “I’m game.”
“Great.” I slide from my seat.
Brandon hooks his arm into mine.
To my surprise, Chad takes the other arm. I’m flanked by them. My heart does a strange little pitter-patter.
“Ready to explore?” Brandon asks.
I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I nod. “Let’s go.”
Layla
The door clicks closed, shutting Michael and I into a complete, almost eerie silence.
There’s nothing special about the room, except for its opulence. The lights are low and intimate, and like the space downstairs, it casts a warm glow over the room. There’s a mahogany bed with four carved posts, an intricate, antiqued armoire, and rich hardwood floors.
Michael puts his hands on my shoulders, pushing my hair to one side, before leaning down to kiss my neck. “Remember, this isn’t pass or fail.”
I stare at the bed. “I know.”
“Any hint of panic—at all—we stop.” He runs his hands down my arms.
I nod. Since that night I have suffered from panic attacks. Between therapy, Michael and the support of my family they are much better now, much less frequent, but they still do happen. Sneaking over me out of nowhere and seizing me in their grip.
I have strategies to deal with them, but they are a frightening experience.
I want to believe they won’t affect me, but I can’t be sure. I gulp as nerves slither over me and I remind myself I’m safe with Michael.
He strokes a thumb over the curve of my throat. “I know how bad you want this, Layla.”
I crane my neck to look back at him. “Do you? Want this?”
His unusual hazel eyes that capture me so, narrow. “Not at the expense of your emotional wellbeing.”
He’s too good to me. I reach up and stroke a path down his jaw. “It won’t be. All I want is to be what you deserve.”
He comes to stand in front of me, cups my jaw and raises my chin. “You are, regardless of if I ever tie you up.”
“I understand… I know you mean it, but…” I struggle to explain, to communicate the depth of my feelings for him.
He strokes over my bottom lip. “What?”
I lower my gaze. “You’ve done so much for me.” I take a harsh breath. “Is it so hard to understand I want to give you something of equal value?”
His expression softens, filling with love. “You face your fears every day for me. You’ve forced yourself to heal for me. Do you not understand the value in that?”
I hadn’t looked at it like that. I rise to my tiptoes and kiss his mouth, those cruel lips that have delivered both heaven and hell. “I am trying.”
“Succeeding,” he corrects. Then his hands fall away and he steps back. “So we understand each other.”
“We do.” I lick my lips. “I promise any hint I will tell you, but I want a promise in return.”
“What’s that, sugar?”
I meet his eyes, unflinching and unwavering of what I want from him. “Don’t hold back. Don’t be careful. I don’t want careful. I want you.”
Without a word, he steps back and starts circling me, stalking me like a predator and desire bursts across my skin. He slides his hands down my shoulders, taking the straps along with him, exposing my nipples before skimming up my collar bone to twine his fingers around my neck. “You’re my possession. I own you.”
The words are a drug—made all the more addictive because I believe them wholeheartedly. “Yes.”
He slides his hands down my waist, and palms the curve of my ass, where the marks he left earlier are still sore and tender to the touch. I wince, sucking in my breath against the pain. Then he steps back and nods. “Strip.”
It’s not hard. I’m wearing practically nothing. I let the straps of my dress fall from my wrists and the fabric pools to my feet. His gaze rakes over me, up and down, over and over. He sighs. “You’re so damn gorgeous.”
My heart swells.
“Put your hands behind your head and splay your legs.”
I comply. Tonight, right here and now, it’s not about fighting, it’s about surrender. The air is cool between my legs where I’m already hot and ready for his touch.
“Very nice.” He moves closer, and runs his hands over my nipples, in a slow circular motion, lulling me into a type of hypnotic complacency.
Just as my lashes are starting to drift closed, he pinches the sensitive buds, hard between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling, tugging until my eyes tear with pain.
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