She's All Tied Up: Club 3, Book 2

by Cathryn Cade

  She bit back a nervous giggle. “Are you inviting me?”

  “Yes, I am. You and Jake don’t suit, there’re plenty of other guys.”

  Her flash of humor popped like a bubble. “Right.”

  “Although,” he said, on a wince, “Jake can be a little…territorial. Hope he’ll let them near you.”

  “What?” Carlie sat up straight, clutching her tea like a weapon. “He does not have a say in who gets near me. Does he?”

  “Not if you’re not wearing his key,” Trace agreed, but he frowned, uneasiness flashing through his eyes.

  Carlie huffed indignantly. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Right. Well, I better run,” Trace said. “Have an appointment over on Pacific in about twenty minutes.”

  He bent and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek, then winked at her. “See you, gorgeous.”

  Hand to her cheek, Carlie stared after him as he strode toward the parking lot, a handsome, carefree man in the summer sun.

  “What just happened?” she asked. Had she been played?

  Hearing no answer but the sound of distant vehicles and the chattering of a squirrel on a branch above, she shook her head and walked back into the building. Even if that had been Trace’s intent, she was not letting Jake Stone derail her voyage of self-discovery.

  No matter how hard it would be to go back to yearning from afar.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As if Trace’s visit was not enough, Daisy called Carlie Saturday morning to ask if she would come to the club with her and Dack.

  “You can just have a drink, see if there are any other guys you’re interested in,” she coaxed.

  Shop for another sex partner? Carlie might have thought this was a good idea after three glasses of wine, but now it left her chilled, and not in a good way. “I don’t know, Dais.”

  “Just have a drink with us,” Daisy insisted. “Then you can leave if you want.”

  “Fine,” Carlie sighed. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay,” Daisy agreed. “Just wear a pretty dress.”

  “No theme night?” Carlie asked, relieved. She had some red leather burning a hole in her bureau drawer, but while she often opened the drawer to stroke the soft leather and admire the color, she was not ready to don the ensemble quite yet. Maybe never.

  “No,” Daisy said, sounding disappointed. “Although the guys have been planning something for later in the summer. Can’t wait to find out what that is—I think.”

  “Let me know, I’ll skip that night.”

  Daisy laughed. “See you tonight.”

  However, Daisy called again when Carlie was just pulling into the parking lot of Club 3.

  “Um, you know your plan to shop around? Well, Dack told Jake you’re coming in tonight. Jake is kind of waiting for you,” she told Carlie, her voice muffled as if she was trying to be quiet.

  “What?” Carlie’s eyes narrowed with anger as she got out of her car and slammed the door. “We’ll see about that. I’m not his sub.”

  “Right. Just wanted to warn you. Gotta go,” Daisy whispered.

  Carlie walked into Club 3 with her head high and murder on her mind. Her gaze found Jake Stone immediately, standing with his arms crossed, staring at the door just as Daisy had warned her, as Trace had promised. Waiting for her.

  Well, let…him…wait. She glared at him and then looked away. She smiled at the next man she saw, Mase, and walked toward him, rolling her hips so that her skirt swished around her bare legs.

  “Hi, Mase,” she said breezily.

  He gave her a nod, but his amused, regretful gaze flicked over her shoulder. Carlie stiffened as a deep voice spoke behind her.

  “Now, don’t you look sweet,” Jake said. “All pretty in pink. You’re wearin’ your Pink Night dress.”

  She was. And she’d hope at least one of the other doms felt the same.

  Ignoring him with a supreme effort, Carlie took a step toward the bar. A warm, powerful hand closed on the nape of her neck, stopping her in her tracks.

  “Tryin’ to talk to you, baby,” Jake said. “You wanna show me your pretty face?”

  “No,” she shot over her shoulder, even though defying him made her stomach twist uneasily.

  He sighed loudly. “Now if I can’t even see it, sub, how am I supposed to kiss it?”

  She jerked as if he’d prodded her with a live wire. He was offering to kiss her now? Joking about it, here in front of all their friends?

  “Why don’t you just kiss my ass?” she offered in a clear voice that cut through the babble of voices and music.

  His grip tightened. Mase’s eyebrows shot up, his chin tucked back, and Trace frowned from behind him, both of them clearly displeased. The sub beside Trace looked at Jake, her eyes wide as if he were morphing into a man-eating tiger behind Carlie’s back.

  Daisy waggled her fingers in a little look-at-me gesture and shook her head urgently. Beside her, Dack did not look pleased either. Carlie couldn’t control the shiver that ran through her, but she stiffened her knees.

  “Oh, we’ll get to that,” Jake said, in his dom voice. A shiver of premonition ran down Carlie’s spine. When he pulled her with that gentle but inexorable grip, she found herself turning obediently. He had a strange look in his eyes, hard but also something else, something she couldn’t decipher.

  “Two things, sub,” he went on, talking to her as if they were alone, not surrounded by an audience. “One, you need to apologize to Dack and Trace for mouthing off in the club.”

  If her voice would work. And oh, crappity crap, the song had ended, and in the pause, everyone in the club seemed to be looking their way and hanging on her every word. The doms looked forbidding, some subs nervous, some hiding smiles behind their hands. The skinny brunette was standing with hands on her hip bones, smirking. Carlie glared at her.

  Jake’s hand tightened, and her gaze jerked up to meet his. Although his face was still hard, implacable, that something else was getting warmer, almost like…tenderness.

  That look melted her anger as no stern command could have.

  “Sorry, gentlemen,” she said. “Dack and Trace, my disagreement is with Jake, not you. I apologize for…stepping outside my role.” Whatever that was. At the moment, it felt like she were Jake’s property.

  Jake’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “And two,” he added, holding up his free hand to reveal his key. “You need to put this on.”

  Carlie gazed at the key that she’d yanked off and slapped into Dack’s hand on her way out last time, everything she wanted but maybe not what she needed. She looked back at Jake and swallowed hard, fighting against his pull. “I don’t think so, Jake,” she said quietly so only he could hear. “I think…I think I should move on, find a-a dom who wants the same things I do.”

  He gave her a hard look. “You can try, baby. But not one of the Club 3 doms is fool enough to offer you their key.”

  “W-why not?” Hurt smacked her in the chest again. Did he mean she was undesirable, that none of the men wanted her? Trace had said others would be glad to be with her.

  Jake leaned closer, encroaching farther in her space. “Because you owe me.”

  The nerve of the man. She sucked in a breath. “I owe you? What do I owe you?”

  He bent nearer, his breath warm on her lips when he spoke. “A kiss.” A glint of humor twinkled in his eyes. “And I want it now, before I put my key on you. Who knows, maybe I won’t like the way you kiss. Maybe I won’t wanna—”

  His words were cut off as Carlie gave a growl of complete frustration, rocked up the short inch between their faces and shut him up by doing what she’d wanted all along—kissing him right on his wide mouth. She’d show him a kiss all right. She’d give him a kiss that would knock his socks off. Then she’d walk away from him.

  Jake’s lips were warm and firm, but soft. When they met hers, Carlie forgot who had kissed whom, and why, and where they were. He cocked his head, his grip changing, cradling the bac
k of her head under her hair.

  Her mouth softening under his, she melted onto his chest like the vanilla ice cream he’d accused her of being that first night here. He felt so good against her breasts and torso, she pressed closer. She slid her hands up his chest, grabbing handfuls of soft T-shirt, and kissed Jake Stone.

  He smelled as he always did of clean, healthy male and his own special Jake scent… Let the pheromones roam, she thought hazily. He tasted a little of beer, but more of fresh breath and warm skin and something she wanted more of—lots more. Something essentially Jake.

  Then she got it as his free arm came up around her waist, hauling her tight against him, and his mouth opened over hers. His kiss was hot and wet and slow. Now that he had her, he seemed intent on taking his time about it, not letting her entice his tongue out to play but instead letting her taste him, coax him with the tip of her own tongue and her lips until finally his tongue met hers.

  She crooned with pleasure, reaching up to cup his cheek with her hand and wrap her hand around the back of his neck so she could hold him too.

  He lifted his head at last. She dragged her heavy eyes open to meet his, heavy and glittering. The applause that broke out around them was merely a pleasant background noise.

  “Now,” he said, his voice husky, “you can wear my key.”

  “Oh, so you like my kisses?” That was nice. No, wait. That was too bad for him, because she wasn’t staying for more of his brand of hot and cold domination. So what if she got a guy who didn’t make her panties wet with a look or a flex of his huge arms? She wanted safety. And she’d have it, just as soon as she gathered the resolve to step away from his arms.

  “Mm-hmm. Although, think I’ll like ’em better with your hands cuffed behind your back.”

  A man chuckled. Dack. Carlie stiffened, remembering their audience.

  “Get a room,” Trace jibed. Nearly everyone laughed, because there were definitely rooms to be had here.

  “No way,” Mase protested, winking at Carlie. “This is just gettin’ good.”

  “Time to take my sub,” Jake said, deadpan but with twinkling eyes, “upstairs.”

  He slapped his key into her palm and closed her fingers over it. Startled, Carlie held on.

  And then he dipped into a half squat, slid one arm around Carlie’s thighs and lifted her up, tossing her over his shoulder with one smooth, swift motion. She let out a squawk as the room turned upside down around her, her pleasure lost in nerves and sheer embarrassment.

  “Jake Stone, you put me down.” She clutched at his shirt, kicking her legs and wriggling. Jake smacked her ass, hard. Her bare ass. “Oh God, just kill me now,” she whined. Her short pink skirt had flipped up, and the entire club was getting a world-class view of her sexy new lavender lace panties—a garment she had intended to show only to the dom she chose to be with tonight.

  “You just stay still, baby,” Jake ordered, already carrying her across the room. “‘Cause there’s more spankin’ where that came from. How hard depends on how quiet you are in the next few minutes.”

  Carlie had one glimpse of the club members watching with various expressions of enjoyment, envy or outright glee, depending on who they were and their status at the club. Then she ducked her head against his broad back, hoping her hair hid her burning face, and let him carry her up the stairs, which seemed a lot longer tonight than they had when she’d walked up them herself. She had never been so embarrassed in her life, not even when Mase caught her tied naked to the wall, letting Jake touch her. Or so scared.

  “You drop me and I’m never speaking to you again,” she muttered, her hands tightening on his shirt as she got a terrifying glimpse of the staircase yawning below her.

  “I’m not gonna drop you, and that’s two more swats for not trusting your dom,” he said.

  He strode across the landing, steered her carefully through a door, which closed behind them with a thud. Then Jake squatted again and set her on her feet. Carlie staggered, then backed away from him, scowling as she yanked down her skirt.

  He smirked. “Don’t get too comfortable there, sub. The dress needs to come off now.”

  Since the growl in his voice left no doubt he meant it, Carlie let out a huff of extreme frustration, but she reached for the hem of her dress and jerked it over her head, tossing it behind her to let it fall wherever. Then she tossed her hair back, set her hands on her hips and faced him. Let him see what he was missing, because she still hadn’t agreed to wear his key.

  He looked her over, his gaze lingering on her breasts in the sheer lavender lace before drifting down to her hips and mons, also displayed in sheer lace. “Now this I like,” he approved, moving to walk around her in a slow circle, taking his time. She could feel his gaze on her like a touch, and her body reacted, skin flushing, breasts tightening, her pussy clenching.

  “Maybe, if you’re lucky, it’ll distract me from that scowl on your face.”

  Uh-oh.

  “You just buy this?” he asked, his voice close behind her.

  She shivered, thought about lying and finally nodded. “Yes.”

  “Who did you think about when you tried it on?” His big hands settled on her hips.

  Oh crap. Carlie cleared her throat, but her voice still came out husky, shy. “You.” Of course, that was before he’d treated her like one in a long line of willing bodies.

  “Mmm, that’s nice. Real nice.” His hands tightened. “I like it when you’re honest, Carlie. Last time you were here, I was honest with you. But instead of talking it out, you defied me. Ran away. I did not like that.”

  “Well, you…you hurt my feelings.”

  “Right. And I ever do that on purpose, you have my permission to cloud up and rain all over me. Otherwise, you owe me the respect to tell me what you’re feeling, and let me deal with that.”

  She nodded, her heart pounding. He was right. “I’m sorry, Jake.” At least they’d get this cleared up, and then she could leave him and move on with a clear conscience. Although why that made her feel slightly sick was not clear.

  He leaned closer, and she shivered again, in wonder this time as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then again in dread as he murmured, “You’re gonna be even sorrier in a minute, baby.”

  He let her go, walked around her to the single chair, an armless wooden one with a padded seat and an odd railing, low on one side, protruding from the legs. Jake sat and patted his thighs. “Come here.”

  He did not, she realized with another jolt, mean to come and cuddle on his lap. He meant lie over it. Oh shit. Not a word she liked, but if ever there was a time to swear, this was it.

  Watching him warily, Carlie walked to Jake, who held her gaze, a smile incipient in his gray eyes. “I told you that pretty ass of yours needed spanking,” he said. “So that’s what I’m gonna do. After you put my key on.”

  Quickly, she pulled the choker over her head, lifting her hair out. Why, she wasn’t sure, since it meant she was going to get a spanking. A spanking—really? That was so demeaning. So sexist. So completely retro.

  The key dangled in the hollow of her throat, warm and heavy, like his gaze on it.

  “And then,” he went on, “you’re gonna tell me you’re sorry for disrespecting me in front of my club, and for not trusting me.”

  “But…I already did.” She stopped at his knee.

  He smiled at her. “I know. And you’re gonna say it again, and mean it.”

  “I did mean it, Jake.”

  “Carlie.” He slapped his thigh. “Down, now. And like I said, you will really mean it when you say it again.”

  She meant to walk out, didn’t she? Not sure what the hell she was doing, or why she was doing it, but just knowing that she could not bear the thought of disobeying Jake again and ending this for good, Carlie slowly bent over his lap, her cheeks burning with mortification.

  She quickly understood what the low bar was for—to grab on to as she lay across her dom’s hard thighs. She also real
ized something else—Jake was aroused, big-time. He was fully erect, his cock straining at his snug jeans. It pressed into her abdomen. Having her over his lap turned him on.

  He held her with one hand warm in the middle of her back and stroked the other down the back of her thighs. “Prettiest damn panties I’ve ever seen,” he said. “Gonna look even prettier on your pink ass. Hang on, baby.”

  Then he lifted his hand and smacked it down on her half-bare, lace-clad cheek. It stung a lot. She jerked in his grasp, letting out a squeak of pain, then again as he smacked the other cheek. By the third and fourth smacks, she was whimpering, not a sound she had ever thought to hear coming out of her own throat, but when Jake spanked, he did it hard.

  Five, six, and she yelped as his hand came down on a spot already tender. Again, and it was all too much. She burst into tears and kicked her legs, arching her body, struggling to get away. “Stop it,” she cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Stop!”

  “Shh,” he soothed, his hand stroking her back, holding her with his other hand on her thighs. “Almost done.”

  One, two more hard smacks, and then he was lifting her, swinging her up in his arms to stand with his arms around her. “Don’t think you wanna sit on that ass right now,” he said, his voice tender.

  Carlie clutched at his shirt, holding on to him as she burrowed into his chest. He stroked one hand over her hair, the other over her back. Her fingers curled into the soft fabric as she fought to control her tears, which was not easy. Her bottom burned, and her emotions felt as huge and tumultuous as a storm raging in her chest. And in a wicked twist of what should be, his powerful arms around her were comforting, soothing. And the only place she wanted to shelter right now.

  “Now, what do you say, baby?” he murmured, his face against her temple.

  “I’m sorry I disrespected you,” she whispered into his throat, breathing in his heat and scent as she sniffled.

  “And?” he urged.

  “That I didn’t trust you enough to talk it out,” she added. She lifted her head and looked him in the eye, something giving way inside her. “You were right—if I don’t trust you, we shouldn’t be doing this.”