Riley stood on her tiptoes to reach Jack’s ear. “This place is awesome.”
He nodded. “Told you.”
“Why the massive confidentiality agreement?” They’d had to sign a stack of documents before entering the BDSM club-slash-hotel, and the man who’d presented it to them seemed determined they actually read through every page.
Jack nodded discreetly toward a couple in the left corner.
Riley squinted in that direction. Was that…? Holy shit. She recognized the man from a blockbuster action movie that had just released but she couldn’t remember his name.
Her friend nudged her. “Don’t stare.”
Pulling her gaze away, she answered, “Right.”
“The club is always full of the rich and famous. But really, they put on their leather harnesses one buckle at a time, just like everyone else.”
She snorted, doing her best not to look around for more familiar celeb faces. “So, where to?”
Jack’s gaze swept the space. “Doesn’t matter. I’m looking for someone.”
This time, she nudged him. “Quit stalking your ex.”
“I’m not!” His mouth opened in outrage and his eyes widened in mock surprise.
She merely arched a brow.
Jack sighed. “You know me too well. Come on. Let’s find you someone to play with first.”
Riley was no stranger to the club scene but she usually had trouble finding someone she had a good sense about who could also get her where she yearned to go. Subspace.
Her intuition rarely led her to weirdoes, which was good, but she almost never reached subspace and its hazy blissful after-glow. Lately, she’d been craving it desperately. Insomnia had been plaguing her. Before she resorted to sleeping pills, she wanted to try a good hard play session. Even if someone topped her well, and gave her the pain she desired, maybe she could drift off tonight.
Jack was already weaving through the space, heading toward a darker alcove. She rushed to catch up, trying not to gawk at the various scenes that played out. She knew better, but it’d been a while since she’d watched porn or even masturbated so everything felt new and sexy.
He stopped near the bar, where a sign indicated the limit was one drink per customer. When he turned to her, he said, “Stand here and look cute.” His gaze raked her then he gave a frustrated sigh. “Girl, I know you’re in a rut but you need to check the mirror once in a while.” He pinched her cheeks, fluffed her hair then tugged her top down slightly to reveal her ample cleavage.
“Hey!” She shooed his hands away. “It took me twenty whole minutes to pick this outfit out!”
“I can tell.”
She was about to tell him off but his gaze jerked suddenly to something behind her and she spun to see who it was.
Adam.
He locked gazes with Jack. Her friend practically melted on the spot. With a smirk, Adam crooked a finger at him.
Chuckling, she told him, “You need to stop kidding yourself. You’re obviously still together.”
“I’ll be right back, I swear,” he replied, eyes never leaving Adam.
“Sure you will.”
Jack stumbled his way to Adam – the man was sex on a stick and she couldn’t blame Jack for following him around like a puppy.
She turned her back to the bar and sighed. Alone again.
At least the view was hot. In front of her, a shirtless man with a sinfully cut body reeled in a piece of rope, recoiling it. A girl kissed his cheek and gazed up at him with longing, but wandered off with her friends.
Solid muscle and tanned skin. Nice. Her gaze dipped down. Sexy ass in a pair of low-hanging jeans. She felt a little guilty so shamelessly ogling him but really…if he was here, and shirtless, he couldn’t possibly be shy.
There was something oddly familiar about him though. The smooth way he moved. His stance. That ass. His dark hair was short and thick. She leaned a bit to see his profile but the way he was turned, she’d need to topple over to catch a look.
Sure she’d grown up in town but it’d been years since she’d come back. A lot had changed. Most of her high school friends had moved on, or had babies. They wouldn’t be in a place like this. Other than Jack. He still worked at one of the casinos – no babies. But Vegas was his city. He was meant to be here.
Sighing, she scanned the crowd for him. He and Adam were either making out or fighting. When she didn’t spot them, she turned back to the man she’d been nearly drooling over before.
He’d shifted and was facing her now as he tied off the coil of rope. Riley’s breath caught in her throat. Strong jaw, dark stubble on his chin, heavily shadowed eyes but she knew they were a warm brown when he smiled.
Nathanial Sexton.
Fuck.
She hadn’t seen him in…seven years? Things between them hadn’t ended well.
Fuck fuck fuck.
She had to get out of here before he saw her. She fought the urge to jump over the bar and hide behind it but that would only draw more attention.
Shit. Where was Jack?
She started to casually slide away, keeping an eye on him. If he looked up from what he was doing, she’d turn and run. Yeah. That sounded like a good plan. Not immature at all.
God he was hotter than ever. He’d been boyish cute when they’d been together in high school, but now… This was a whole other level.
He looked up. Caught her gaze. His brow furrowed. Recognition set in. She’d forgotten to run. Too late now.
She was helpless to look away. Biting her lip, she gave an underwhelming little wave. He made a beeline for her. His eyes darkened as he grew closer, reminding her of a predator stalking his prey. She shrunk back a bit, self-consciously yanked on her mini-skirt then her tank top.
“Riley Dawson?” he said when he drew up to her.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Her cheeks heated. Of all the place to run into an ex, a BDSM club had to be the worst. “I, uh…I’m just here with a friend.”
He chuckled. “Just being supportive? Sure, okay.”
Still so cocky. But now he had every reason to be. Her gaze lingered a moment on his abs, appreciating each subtle bulge even as her brain protested. “God it’s been forever. You really…” she forced her betraying eyes up, “filled out.”
Smooth. Real smooth.
His lips quirked. “And you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
Be still my heart.
No, Riley! He was probably taken. A guy this hot? She checked his ring finger. Hmm. No ring. Still…a girlfriend or something.
“There you are!” Jack appeared beside her. “Did you find someone to play –” He stopped when he noticed Nate then cast him a wide grin. “Well hello.”
Riley stepped on his foot in warning. If he found out this was her ex, she’d never hear the end of it. The last thing she wanted to do was rehash…all of that.
“I’m Nate,” he said to Jack. “Sorry, are you two together?”
Riley blurted a short laugh.
“Just friends,” Jack answered. “You’re more my type.”
Nate nodded. “Sorry – straight.”
“That’s a shame,” Jack teased. “Straight, huh? Well, Riley, here, is single.”
“Is she?” Nate’s eyes narrowed. “Her and I go way back. Maybe we can have a drink and catch up.”
“You’re not here with someone?” she asked, not sure what she wanted his answer to be. Why did he have to be so hot? Weren’t women supposed to see their exes and be glad they’d split up?
He shook his head. “No, I don’t have a play partner for tonight. I run the beginner rope classes.” He held up the rope in his hand.
“Oh,” was all she could manage. Brilliant, Riley.
Jack gave her a little push. “She loves Mojitos and she’d love to have a chat.”
She scowled at Jack.
Nate chuckled. “I have some very interest
ing memories about you and Mojiitos.”
“Sounds fun.” Jack waggled his brows at her. “I’ll catch up with you later.” In her ear he whispered, “He’s hot. Don’t fuck it up.”
Rolling her eyes, she pushed him away. Nate ushered her to an empty booth in a dark corner. Her knees suddenly felt shaky. So he taught rope classes. That meant he was experienced.
Could her lovable high school sweetheart really be a dominant? How weird was that? Sure, he’d changed, grew up, filled out, but a dom? Seven years ago, she’d never guessed he had it in him. And she’d know. She’d tried so hard to trigger it.
She gazed at him with a silly smile at first, unsure of where to begin. Finally, he broke the growing tension.
“I didn’t think you’d ever come back,” he said. “Are you just visiting?”
“No. I’m here for a while.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “What brought you back?”
My inability to find the right guy? My failed attempt at a career as a concert pianist?
“My mom,” she answered, which was partially the truth.
“How is she? I haven’t seen her around.”
Riley frowned. “She’s struggling. She has Parkinson’s and it took a turn.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I moved back in with her to help out around the house and do her grocery shopping and stuff, just until we get services set up.” He watched her with an enigmatic expression she found hard to read. “What about you? Are you working in the city?”
“Yeah. I’m a mechanic.”
She nodded. “Not surprised. Didn’t you hate every subject in high school except shop?”
He chuckled. “Something like that. What are you doing for work?”
Sore subject. “Substituting at the high school for now. And giving piano lessons on the side.”
“I have to admit,” he said, looking suddenly sheepish, “I kind of stalked you when you finished Julliard. I looked for your name in concert halls and stuff. I half-expected you to be touring the world with some big symphony.”
She grimaced but then shrugged and smiled slightly. “Yeah. Turns out it’s hard to get jobs as a concert pianist. Who knew?” She chuckled humorlessly.
It was silent a moment then he said, “You’re good, Riley. Don’t give up on what you want to do. I still listen to your CDs from high school.”
“You do not!”
“I do. You were always gifted. The CDs the school put out to raise money for the music program are beautiful, even if their recording studio sucked.”
A warm feeling swept over her.
He cleared his throat. “So did you come here tonight to play or watch?”
She blinked. “Oh. Um, play I guess.”
“I’m free,” he said simply. “If you’re interested.” He paused then when she hesitated, he added, “No would be a perfectly understandable answer. I won’t be insulted.”
“Won’t playing together be awkward?”
“Awkward?” He chuckled in that sexy, dominant way. “I knew you when you were a virgin.” He winked.
She smirked. “Funny, I’m pretty sure you were a virgin at that point too, buddy.”
“But we fixed that.”
“Oh, we sure did.”
Chapter 2
Nate couldn’t tell how desperate he looked, but Riley showing up at Fitte seven years after giving him an “I want to take a break” line, then ghosting him, was too good a chance to pass up. It was like fate had given him the chance to get the closure he’d needed so desperately, years after he’d needed it.
He’d had so many fantasies of this moment – of what he’d do to be petty and prove she’d never meant anything to him. Yet his first instinct when he’d laid eyes on her tonight was to try to impress her. They weren’t eighteen anymore, but he felt awkward and stupid talking to her. It’d been years since he felt that way around anyone.
Vulnerable.
He didn’t do that pathetic “please notice me” shit anymore.
Not even for Riley fucking Dawson.
And how had she gotten hotter, for fuck’s sake? How was that even fair?
Part of him had thought he’d glorified the memories of her – but that beautiful oval face and expressive eyes. If anything, he’d forgotten how mischievous she looked when she smiled, and the way she bit her lip when she was horny.
Just like she was doing now, with her gaze stuck to his face but trying to drift down his naked torso. She wasn’t letting herself check him out. He was trying not to check her out and failing miserably.
And she was a teacher? She’d always been out of his league, though. Always would be. However, kink leveled the playing field, at least temporarily. Maybe for tonight, if he was lucky.
Her body had always responded to his, even when they’d been young and fumbling around in his sweltering attic bedroom at his grandmother’s. Good thing Gran had been a sound and frequent napper.
He’d always felt like Riley was hinting at things she wanted from him, but he’d never been good at reading subtlety until he’d spent time as a dominant.
And here they were years later. He always thought he’d tell her off if he ever saw her in person, but instead he’d prematurely invited her to play with him. Was she even submissive? Maybe she was a dominant.
“I –” she gave a delicious little shrug that made him growl so low she couldn’t hear it over the bass line of the music coming from the speakers. “I guess I could tie you up and flog you for a while, for old times’ sake.”
“You’re dominant?” he asked, more disappointed than he would have liked to admit. Dominating her and tormenting her might have made him feel better about how things had ended between them, even though it was ancient history.
“No, not at all. But neither are you, from what I remember.”
He gave her his best “you’re so fucked” smile and she shivered, amber eyes wide. “You and your little hints. It took me forever to catch on to what you’d wanted, and by then you were long gone.”
She shrugged again. “I just thought you were vanilla.”
“I didn’t think there was any way you meant what I was hoping you meant.”
They both laughed. Something in him eased. Maybe it wasn’t why she’d disappeared, but it was something. An answer he’d never thought he’d get.
She’d tried to get her needs met, but he hadn’t met them. Nothing personal. After a few failed vanilla relationships after high school, he understood that.
His mind flashed back to his old obsession with tying Riley up and having her at his mercy. At the time he hadn’t had the balls to ask if he could try it.
Next came the vivid memory of her going down on him and repeatedly convincing him to put his hand in her hair. She’d teased him with her mouth, keeping him on edge, daring him to make her do what she wanted, but he’d been taught to respect women. Wanting to hurt or force the girl he loved had made him feel like the worst kind of pervert. He hadn’t understood the difference between abuse and BDSM back then.
She shrugged. “We were practically babies, Nate. Grades ten to twelve? Fifteen to seventeen? We didn’t even have sex until what? Six months before school ended?”
“Yeah.” He tried to stop himself from going there, but his dick remembered all too well. Tight, slick heat. Her whimpers of discomfort. He’d been gentle, and had managed to make it good for her afterward even though he’d only lasted a few minutes. God, he’d been so in love with her – had been making payments on a ring so he could propose to her for real instead of just joking about it.
He’d had plans for their future, but apparently the ones she’d made for herself hadn’t included him.
“I’ll play with you,” she finally said. “Hell, I’ve thought about it often enough.”
Oh she had, had she?
A thrill of anticipation and uncertainty lanced through him. He should back out, but if he didn’t do this he’d be kicking himself forever.
“What ar
e your limits?”
She shrugged. “I’m not big on getting pissed on. Other than that we can play it by ear.”
Fair enough. He wasn’t into that either.
“What’s your safeword?”
“For you? Algebra.”
“So ungrateful.” Warmth at the shared amusement spread through him. A weird remembered affection flared back to life. He’d always thought she’d walked away and forgotten about him, but apparently he’d been wrong. “But did you pass that test?”
“I did, and you know it, you bastard.”
They both laughed. Edging had made for a good study session.
“I swear I yelled ‘it’s the motherfucking coefficient!’ every time I orgasmed until a few months ago.” Her smirk made her irresistible.
“Sounds like you need another tutoring session.”
Her eyes narrowed in challenge. “Still think you have things to teach me?” Her sultry rasp made him crazy.
“That depends. I’m not the nice boy you used to tease, Riley Bettina. You mess with me now and you’ll be punished.”
She shivered. “Damn. Is using my middle name even fair?”
“I used to know you better than anyone.”
She edged closer, tipping her head back to look up at him. “Who knows? Maybe you still do.” Her lips parted and he had the reckless urge to kiss her.
He slid a hand into her hair. The memory of how it felt in his hands had never left him, but now he could do it the way he’d always been tempted to. His fist closed in her hair, close to her scalp. Rather than the horror he’d always envisioned in her gaze when he thought of doing this, her expression softened with lust.
Not pretending. Not a dream. The warmth of her tawny hair caressed his palm.
He was here, but he was there too.
He was an experienced dominant, but with her, part of him was still the sixteen year old boy who worshipped a girl.
He tugged her to a vacant o-ring in an alcove, wanting as much privacy as the club could provide without dragging her upstairs to a private room. Maybe even to his own suite, where he never brought anyone.
“You shy?”
“No.”
With a forwardness he wouldn’t have used with any other new play partner, he jerked her clothes off piece by piece, until she was naked except for her pale pink lace panties, and he was shaking with lust.
Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Book 1) Page 30