Ruby’s breath was shallow as her hips gyrated against the mattress. Her fingers pounded at her pelvic walls frantically. The spanking was always the part that did her in.
The leather had a sting that was both painful and pleasant. Ruby often thought that it was enjoyable while it was happening and more excruciating after. The leather strap he used she knew from experience was about eight inches long and an inch and a half wide. The marks it left were glorious. She moaned into his pant leg just picturing the beautiful stripes she would bear tomorrow with pride. Recognizing the sounds of her arousal, he stopped abruptly, pinching the tender skin on the underside of her buttocks that had just been kissed by the leather.
“It sounds like you’re enjoying this, babygirl,” he muttered, flicking his index finger across her soft folds checking for wetness. “Just as I suspected.” He tsked, as he withdrew his finger, sucking it loudly. “This is a punishment. It’s not supposed to make your pussy wet. Leather always does that to you, though, doesn’t it? Maybe I should switch to something my naughty girl doesn’t enjoy quite as much. Maybe a wooden paddle, or the cane?”
She groaned inwardly careful not to react to his torturous teasing. He loved to make her squirm, but she knew he truly did not want her to enjoy being punished. He was always very adamant that if it was too enjoyable it became a game. But oh, it was hard to not enjoy it when he touched her—no matter if it was punishment or pleasure.
“What’s that you say?” he teased, flicking her clit hard with his middle finger. “The cane and the paddle both? Oh, I like that idea very much.”
Ruby’s hips ground frantically into the mattress as she continued to strum herself with expert prowess. Just one last little flick against her throbbing clit had her screaming as she came. Sex with herself was far more exciting and satisfying than sex with Trevor ever had been.
Spent and panting, Ruby rolled over and peered at the bedside clock, rolling her eyes when the glowing red number came into focus. 4:56. Trevor would be home soon.
She rolled off the bed, closed the secret file on her laptop, shutting down the whole thing for good measure and stumbled into the master bath to clean up. After a quick shower, she pulled her hair into a messy bun, stepped into a pair of her favorite yoga pants and stalked into the kitchen humming. Spotting the crock pot on the kitchen counter she said a silent prayer of thanks that she had remembered to put a roast in before she left for work this morning. One less thing for them to fight about.
The door creaked as it swung open and she turned, taking in the sight of the man whom she had loved since she was fifteen. Trevor shrugged out of his suit jacket, set his briefcase down next to her shoes, and came up behind her, wrapping his hands around Ruby’s waist as he nuzzled her neck. She waited for the explosion of butterflies—the familiar tingle as spasms of arousal shot through her belly and into her most private places. Nothing came.
Trevor, as always was completely oblivious. “I made our reservations for Saturday,” he whispered.
A mixture of excitement and horror shot through her. Reservations? For Saturday? Her birthday? Her heart raced as she remembered her conversation with Diamond. Hours ago it had seemed like just another bit of fodder for the fantasy file. Was he serious? How had he known? Had Diamond actually called him? How had she gotten him to agree to it? “Reservations? This weekend?” She stuttered dumbly, her brain still working in overdrive trying to figure out how this had even happened and how she felt about it.
Trevor simply chuckled, and squeezed her tighter against him. “For your birthday, silly. How could you forget? We go every year.”
“Every year?” Instantly, her heart sank into her toes for a split second, and then, she got angry. Pulling out of his arms, she whirled around to face him. “Mario’s?” she asked already knowing the answer.
Trevor nodded eagerly. For a split second he reminded her of a puppy and she hesitated. Who wanted to kick a puppy, literally or figuratively? “And the waterpark in the morning.”
“A day at the waterpark, and dinner at Mario’s?” she repeated dumbly, wishing with all her might that for once Trevor would take a hint and not be so damn clueless. He didn’t.
“That’s what we do every year,” he repeated with a smile, moving to hug her once again.
She pulled back, glaring at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Exactly,” she spat. “That’s what we do every single year. Since I was fifteen.”
Trevor shrugged, clearly not seeing the problem. “So? What’s wrong with that?”
For reasons she couldn’t explain, rage seized her. “What’s wrong with that?” she repeated, eyes wide, and nostrils flaring. Her anger was violent enough that Trevor wisely took a step backwards. “Did it ever occur to you that I wouldn’t want to celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday the exact same way I celebrated my fifteenth? Did it ever occur to you that I’ve aged ten years since then and I might not want to spend my day at a water park?”
Poor clueless Trevor. He looked honestly shocked and perplexed. “No, not really. You love water parks. But that’s okay. We can do something else. It’s your birthday,” he agreed amicably. “Whatever you want.”
The phrase ‘whatever you want’ should have made her simultaneously cheer and swoon, but she knew better. Uncrossing her arms, she raised her eyebrows and placed her hand on her hip, meeting his gaze in silent challenge. “I want,” she stated clearly, “to go to Rojo. For the weekend.”
It was both disappointing and predictable to watch the transformation in Trevor’s easygoing façade. “No.” He shook his head vehemently. “No,” he repeated. “That’s not a place for you. It’s too…” He trailed off, likely unable to find a way to deny her that was not offensive.
“It’s my sister’s home.”
His face clouded with anger. “And why any of you have let her stay with that deviant in that cesspool of depravity for so long is beyond me. I can’t do anything about that. But I can do something about you, and you will not be going there.”
“Actually,” she began stepping up to where he stood so that they were toe to toe. “You can’t and I am.” It struck her even as she was saying it, that if he was as dominant a man as he had seemed in that moment, he very well could have. Of course, if he had so much as a dominant bone in his body, they wouldn’t even be having this conversation.
She paused for a split second waiting for his reaction, but he had none. It wasn’t really surprising as Trevor had all the personality of a wet noodle. What, she wondered, had she even seen in him all those years? Whatever it was, it was long gone, and soon, she would be too. With one last long disgusted look at the man whom she had wasted the last ten years of her life on, she turned and flounced from the room.
Locking the door behind her, she stood in the room they had shared for years. Why had she even bothered to lock the door? She wondered. Trevor wouldn’t come after her. He never did, she realized with a start. For ten years, she had been the one to go after him. She had been the only one fighting, and she was fighting for something she didn’t even want, hadn’t wanted in a long time.
Disgust and determination mixed with anger overwhelmed her and she stomped to the walk-in closet, grabbing the biggest suitcase they owned. She was acting completely on autopilot, beyond thought or analysis, because if she stopped to think about what she was doing, she might not do it.
Drawers were emptied and clothes were flung into the open suitcase with abandon. Her eyes clouded with tears of frustration and her brain was a jumbled mess. Only one thought stood out, and she repeated it like it was her mantra. She deserved someone who would fight for her, and no matter how long it took, she was going to find him. Vegas seemed as good a place as any to start looking.
Chapter 2
Jason Oliver stared blankly at the blonde kneeling before him and wondered why he did this to himself time and time again, and when it had become so boring and routine. He was a Dom. It’s who he was, but he was a Dom without a sub. There had alway
s been a plethora of willing and free submissives ready to play with him, a fact he had always taken full advantage of, and happily.
Lately, though, he had continued to play, more out of habit than actual desire. And every sub that he brought back to his room to play, seemed to be exactly the same. There was no fire, no passion, no connection, and at times, he felt as if he was an actor in a b-level porn film.
The woman, whose name was Barbie, of all things, continued to kneel at his feet, but now she was looking up at him behind lowered lashes with an odd expression on her face, likely wondering why he had yet to give an order.
He looked back at her, and waited for one to come to mind, but nothing did. “A Dom should not play in a scene where he is indifferent. Doing so can have ill effects on a willing submissive.” He recognized the voice in his head as belonging to his buddy, Pax, and groaned. Since when did he have a conscience, and why did it have to sound like Pax of all people?
“Stand, sub,” he commanded. For a split second he toyed with the idea of ordering her to bend over the bed, or to service him with her mouth, but just as quickly, the idea passed and he knew he wouldn’t.
Barbie, if that really was her name, stood. Tearing her eyes from the floor, she looked at him questioningly and he was struck by how young she looked. As he took in the pert beasts, tiny waist and bouncy ass, his cock twitched with temptation. But then he looked at her eyes, and saw her worshipping gaze, ready to please, and he knew he couldn’t. That kind of fresh faced eagerness would be wasted on a play scene, and it would give this newbie the wrong idea. Sighing, he shook his head; he couldn’t believe what he was about to do. Placing his hands on her waist, he looked up at her.
“You’re dismissed.”
“Yes, Si…” she began with the automatic reply, stopping midway through when she realized what had been said. “I’m sorry?”
“No. I’m sorry. Trust me, I have a feeling I’ll be kicking myself all night once you walk out that door. But this isn’t what either of us need.” It was evident from her expression that she didn’t understand so he started over. “Don’t be so eager to experience this lifestyle that you experience it with the wrong people. Play is fine, but it shouldn’t be like this. Putting yourself into a situation like this with the wrong Dom can have shattering results. The night of pleasure isn’t always worth the risk. Be careful, and don’t be in such a hurry. Somewhere out there is a perfect sub for every Dom, and vice versa.” Even as he said it, he wondered if it were true. His buddy Pax had certainly found his, but Jase had never even come close. Perhaps it was because he tended to follow the opposite mantra of the advice he had just given Barbie. Perhaps it was because he was the anti-dom. Commitment wasn’t his thing, and it never would be.
“So… you don’t want to play?” Barbie’s look was one of shock and disgust.
“No, kitten. I don’t.” He stood, scooping up her discarded garments and handing them to her in a wad. “Get dressed. It’s time to go.”
“Fine. Your loss.” Barbie huffed, dressing quickly, and slamming the door behind her.
Jase stared at the closed door and rubbed his forehead in disbelief. Had he really just done that? He was going soft. There was one part of him, however, that wasn’t soft, and he groaned gutturally, as he quickly stepped into the shower and worked on relieving the sexual tension that had built.
As he shuddered out his release, he smiled to himself. It was much easier than spending an hour or more going through the motions with some girl he barely knew. It wasn’t as fun, but it was a hell of a lot easier.
Even though he wasn’t upset about it in the least, he couldn’t believe he had just done that. What was wrong with him these days? “I need a drink.”
Quickly cleaning himself up, he headed downstairs, out the front door, across the street and into Rojo. He entered using the back door, straight into the exclusive nightclub that was Pax’s pride and joy. Getting ready for the grand opening over the weekend, Rojo was dead, except for an elite group of professional Dominants and Mistresses, all who had become close friends of Pax’s and his over the years. He nodded to the Tanner brothers as he passed, noting that, for once, they weren’t accompanied by a gaggle of submissives. Each brother had a table to himself, full of paddles, canes, and other equipment, and seemed to be doing some sort of inspection and inventory. Jase nodded to them as he went by, making a beeline for Pax, who was up on the stage, rigging up sound equipment.
Pax frowned as he approached. “Didn’t you just leave here an hour ago with that tiny little blonde?” His friend asked with a knowing grin, shaking his head.
Jase took a seat on the edge of the lifted platform on the stage where Pax was working. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, man. I couldn’t do it.”
Jerking his head up from the wires he had been engrossed in untangling, Pax frowned. “Couldn’t do what exactly?”
“Play. Anything. I just looked at her, and I just went blank, and setting up any sort of scene just for the sake of getting us both off seemed so exhausting.”
Pax said nothing, nearly choking as he tried to suppress a grin. “So what did you do?”
“What could I do? I dismissed her, sent her on her way.”
“You sent her away?” Pax deadpanned with an air of disbelief. “Hey man, you feeling all right? We talking about the same girl here? Petite blonde, barely twenty-one, built like a Barbie doll, exactly your type?”
Jase just glared at him. “I don’t have a type, and her name was Barbie,” he said, rolling his eyes as his friend combusted with laughter. Crossing his arms over his chest, Jase stood. “Dude, it’s not that funny. I’m freaking out here. Do you think I’m having some sort of midlife crisis?”
Pax sobered, setting the wires down, and crossed the stage to stand near him. “First, you’re a decade early for a midlife crisis. You’re only thirty. Second, it’s my understanding that a mid-life crisis generally swings the other direction. You get more wild, not less.” The last sentence was delivered with a knowing smirk. His friend knew him too well.
“Well whatever it is, make it stop. I have needs, man. A suddenly developed conscience is not one of them.”
“You’ve always had a conscience. It just doesn’t usually make an appearance as often in your own life as it does in other peoples—like mine.”
Jase made a show of looking around the room pointedly. “Keep your voice down, man. I have a reputation to protect,” he said, only half-jokingly.
“I’m serious though. You’re always looking out for me, and everyone else around you. If it wasn’t for you, and your meddling conscience, I’d still be moping around here, stuck in my routine, letting my life waste away while ensuring that everyone around me was having a good time. You wouldn’t let me do that when everything went down with Diamond. You did me a solid, Jase. And I’m going to be honest. It was unexpected. Maybe, somehow, in advocating for my relationship, you realized what your own was missing. Maybe it’s time for you to stop playing around, and settle down.” Pax looked more than a little amused at the prospect.
“Me?” Jase scoffed, dismissing the idea. “Settle down? Don’t hold your breath, buddy. Never going to happen. I like variety, and freedom. I don’t want the trouble.”
His friend shrugged, looking unconvinced. “And I liked rules, and order, and being on my own. Sometimes someone comes along and makes you realize what you’ve been missing. Watch out, buddy, it might be your turn next. Someday, some girl will turn your head, and you won’t know what hit you.”
Jase turned, and made to walk away. “Yeah, okay. Keep dreaming. Not everyone is cut out for the white picket fence and the happily ever after. I don’t know why I came down here. You’re no help. I’m getting a drink.”
Fully aware that Pax was watching him with a smile on his face, Jase walked behind the bar, and helped himself to a bottle on the top shelf, poured a generous helping of the expensive scotch, and winked at Pax over the top of his glass while he took a swig.
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It was the type of drink that was meant to be sipped, generally with a cigar in the other hand, but Jase downed it quickly and poured another, trying to drown out the words resonating in his brain. This was no good. He liked life with no ties, besides the ones he had to his business and to Pax. He liked never knowing what or who was on his agenda on any given day. The idea of him with the same woman for a week was laughable. For life? That would be disastrous. Pax didn’t know what he was talking about. Variety is the spice of life; that was his motto.
Slamming his empty glass down on the bar, he made up his mind. It was time to go find someone to spice up his week and get him out of his rut, and if he managed to prove Pax wrong in the meantime, well, that was just a bonus.
It was a five-hour drive from her home outside of Beverly Hills to her sister’s in downtown Las Vegas and Ruby made it in four hours and thirty-two minutes, pulling into Rojo at ten o'clock on the dot. On the outside, Rojo looked exactly the same as it always had, but the inside took her breath away. The pictures hadn’t done it justice. Brick walls gave it an old-school dungeon feel, but the décor was anything but cold. Red velvet curtains ran floor to ceiling, matching the rich floral arrangements that graced the foyer. Erotic art in opulent frames graced the walls, catching her eye as she made her way to the registration desk. She could have easily gotten her room comped, and bypassed the check in all together, but she wasn’t ready to let Diamond know she was here, and she could afford to splurge. A splurge is exactly what I need right now, she told herself, handing over her black card as she asked for the king suite. Room service, a hot bath, and a good cry would complete her evening. Tomorrow, she would work on moving on. Tonight was for grieving what she left behind.
The young desk clerk, raised his eyebrows curiously as he made the reservation, but if he recognized her as the daughter of the late actress Elizabeth Barrett, or even as Diamond’s sister, he said nothing. They were trained to be discreet.
Claimed (Vegas Nights Book 2) Page 2