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

by Cathryn Cade

  Carlie joined in, because when Daisy laughed, you couldn’t help it. However, she was glad she was working her body hard to quell the nerves twinging in her middle. She sure hoped Daisy was right and Jake would like that she dressed up for him.

  She reached around Daisy to touch Sara’s shoulder. “Only come back if you’re ready.”

  Sara nodded. “I think I am. I just needed time to get over what happened last time I was there.”

  Daisy turned, jogging backward to watch Sara, her smile gone. “Are you, hon? I hope so. The guys will take extra care of you after that. You know that, right?”

  Sara nodded. “I know.”

  “Especially Trace,” Daisy added teasingly. “Wait till he sees you walk in with us.”

  “Oh my God,” Sara said. “Will you stop it?”

  Daisy thought about it for a second. “No.”

  Then both her friends grabbed her arms as an oncoming cyclist veered around another walker and straight at her, and she let out a squeak of surprise. The three of them ended up crowded against the cement rail of the esplanade as the cyclist flashed by with a grin.

  “Watch it,” Carlie called after him. “Dumbass.”

  “He was staring at Daisy’s ass,” Sara said.

  Carlie nodded. Guys always stared at Daisy.

  “Are you kidding me?” Daisy said. “He was looking at you two.”

  “And how would you know? You had your back turned.”

  “Picky, picky. Come on, let’s go.”

  Carlie stopped on the step of Club 3 and took a shallow breath, all she could manage in her tight outfit. It failed to quell the storm of nerves inside her.

  “My legs are shaking,” she muttered.

  “Adrenaline,” Daisy said. “You’ll be fine once you get in there and see what everyone else is wearing. Come on, girl.”

  With a nod, Carlie followed her friend into the lobby of the club. Rochelle beamed at them from the concierge desk, made of the same dark, gleaming wood with a plaque on the front that held one half of a pair of handcuffs opened to make the number three.

  “Good evening, ladies. Welcome. Go on in.”

  “Thanks, Rochelle.” Daisy turned to Carlie and held out her hand. “Give me the shawl.”

  Carlie blew out a breath this time. It didn’t help either. Then she let go of the black pashmina she’d wrapped around her. It slid from her bare shoulders, and she held it out to Daisy.

  Rochelle’s eyes widened. “Wow,” she breathed. “You rock that.”

  Carlie peered at herself in the mirror on the side wall and moaned in distress. All she could see was the expanse of her breasts, plumped into full, pale mounds above the edge of the red leather corset. Her nipples were barely covered. The corset nipped in her waist, making it look small, but then flared over her hips, clad in a black, stretch mini skirt. A very mini skirt, which did not meet the bottom edge of the corset or the tops of her black fishnet stockings.

  Pulled up over her elbows she wore snug, stretchy black gloves, with cutouts at intervals to reveal her skin. Her hair was piled high, with one lock trailing down beside her cheek. Her eyes were made up to appear smoky and mysterious, and her lips were the same red as her corset.

  “You really think so?” she asked, knowing she sounded whiny and needy, but desperate for reassurance.

  Then the door opened. Mase strutted in, a smile on his face beneath his trimmed mustache, his muscular body encased in the tight jeans and leather vest that was his usual club wear.

  He nodded at Rochelle, raised his brows in admiration at Daisy, who wore her new black bustier and black leather short shorts, Dack’s collar already around her throat. Then he glanced at Carlie and froze.

  His lashes dipped as his gaze traveled down, down, down, then rose as he looked up. Carlie caught her breath at the heat in his gaze.

  “Lady,” he said, in his slightly hoarse voice. “You wanna wear my key tonight, you just say the word.” He threw back his head and howled like a wolf, right in the lobby of Club 3. Rochelle and Daisy gaped, delighted. Daisy clapped her hands.

  Carlie gulped, and then grinned shakily. “Thanks. I’m, um, here to be with Jake.”

  He shook his head, his gaze lingering on her breasts. “I figured. Day-um.”

  Then he walked over to open the door and held it for the two of them. “Ladies.”

  The noise hit Carlie as they walked in, AC/DC screaming about a highway to hell. Appropriate, she thought, looking warily around. The lights were dimmed, a light show flashing on the dance floor, and Daisy had been right. Men and women in leather from the concealing to the outrageously revealing were dancing, making out and looking for partners.

  People turned to look as the three of them walked in, because that was what happened here. Everyone was here to see and be seen. They were looking to see who was available and to hook up. Carlie didn’t enjoy being the cynosure of avid, frankly sexual gazes. A few of the women did not look friendly.

  She stopped, ready to bolt, but Mase’s hand settled in the small of her back. “Don’t cut and run now,” he called in her ear. “You look good. Work it.”

  Carlie grinned, relaxing a little. He was right. For heaven’s sake, her outfit was less revealing than many. She wasn’t the only woman here who looked like she should be hanging on a street corner. “I’m gonna go look for Jake.”

  Mase cocked his head, an odd look on his face. He jerked his chin. “I think he found you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Carlie turned eagerly. The crowd had parted. Across the room, Jake stood by the bar in his habitual pose, arms crossed over his chest. But her heart sank, her smile slipping away. He was not smiling. He did not look pleased to see her, not at all.

  “There’s Dack,” Daisy hollered. “You okay?”

  Carlie nodded uncertainly, and her friend smiled. “Have fun.”

  Carlie looked back at Jake and received an unpleasant shock as she saw another woman now at his side. Carlie had never seen her before. She was very pretty, petite and curvy in black leather halter and shorts, with blonde hair waving around her face and shoulders. She smiled up at Jake, her hand on his arm, her back to Carlie. And he was smiling down at her.

  Wait just a minute. Without pausing to think, Carlie strode forward to claim her man.

  She reached Jake and stopped a few steps away. He looked at her. His arms were no longer crossed. One was at his side, one behind the blonde stranger.

  “Hi,” she said, trying a smile. “I’m here.”

  The other blonde turned, looking surprised to see Carlie. She moved as if to back away but stopped short. Carlie got her second unpleasant shock when she saw Jake’s hand on the woman’s hip, holding her there. He had his arm around her.

  Carlie’s gaze snapped back up to Jake’s face. Something was terribly wrong. Jake was staring at her, his face like stone, his eyes hard.

  “Jake, what—” she began.

  “You decide to slut it up?” he asked, his deep voice cutting through hers like a hammer.

  Carlie recoiled as if he’d slapped her. “What?”

  His gaze flicked down her, lingering on her hips and then her breasts. “Looks like you changed your mind,” he drawled. “Decided you want all the doms to have a chance to see your assets. Well, it’s workin’, baby. Got all eyes on you.”

  Carlie tried without success to take a breath, her lips quivering, hurt slamming her in the middle. Jake had morphed into a cold, brutal stranger. And to make it all worse, the blonde on his arm was looking at her with dismay and pity.

  “Jake,” the other woman said. “I don’t think—”

  “What are you talking about?” Carlie asked him. “I dressed this way for you, Jake. I don’t want another dom. You know that.”

  He shrugged, his massive shoulders moving in a gesture that said he couldn’t care less.

  “Could’ve fooled me. Never mind, I’ll make it easy for you. Go ahead, baby. Look around, take your pick. Plenty of doms like a w
oman with lots of tits and ass on display.” He waved his free hand at the room.

  He wanted her to find another dom. He thought she looked like a slut, not a pretty, sexy woman, one who’d dressed this way to please him.

  Carlie shook her head in denial, stepping back. She staggered as someone bumped into her from behind. She felt as if she’d walked straight into a nightmare, where everything she thought she’d found here had been dipped in ugliness.

  “Yo, bitch.” At the sharp voice, she turned to find a familiar face smirking at her. Nita, hands on her skinny hips, a vengeful smile on her face. “What’s the matter, is he through with you now?” she asked. She laughed and pushed past Carlie so that her sharp shoulder struck Carlie in the breast.

  Carlie recoiled, turned again, this time found a strange dom in her path. He smiled at her, his gaze dropping to her breasts. “Looking for some fun?” he asked, licking his lips.

  Carlie shook her head, and he scowled at her, his eyes narrowing.

  Carlie looked at Jake for help and found his attention once again at the woman in his arms. She was talking, waving her free hand toward Carlie, and he was listening closely, his gaze on her mouth. As if he might kiss her at any second.

  Oh God. Nita was right. Jake didn’t want her anymore. And it was all because she’d shown up half-naked. Crossing her arms over her breasts, Carlie hunched her shoulders in shame. Then she ran, bumping through the crowd, ricocheting off people until she reached the open space before the front doors.

  Trace was just walking in. He lifted a hand to her. “Carlie, what’s—”

  “Let me by,” she mumbled. “Leave me alone.”

  But strong hands grasped her shoulders, and she found herself in the curve of his arm, being hustled across the floor.

  “I wanna go,” she insisted, her voice thick with tears.

  “Not yet,” he said over her head. “C’mon. It’s okay, we’re goin’ somewhere private.”

  Half-blinded by tears, she found herself being shepherded into a quiet room and into a big leather chair. Hunching forward, she kept her arms tight over her breasts and let go a huge, choking sob.

  “Christ,” Trace muttered. “Here, babe. Let’s cover you up. C’mere.”

  Something heavy and soft dropped over her shoulders, and she clutched it to her. A leather jacket, huge and concealing. The lining was smooth from use.

  Trace knelt before her, pressing a soft, cotton handkerchief into her hands. “Okay, you’re safe now. Take some time to calm down. Take all the time you need.”

  It took a long time and loud, ungraceful, hiccupping sobs, cut short by the tight stricture of the corset, before Carlie was calm enough to lie back in the chair, swiping her wet face with the handkerchief.

  Trace patted her knee, and then sat on a leather hassock so their knees were touching. His handsome face was grave as he reached out to brush back the curl now sticking to her wet cheek.

  “What happened, babe?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t wanna talk about it. I j-just wanna go home.”

  “Carlie.” Her gaze shot to his. “You’re not leaving until you talk to me. Something happened to upset you at my club. I want to know what it was.”

  She snorted. “Don’t worry, no one h-hurt me. Not physically, at least.”

  Something changed in his face. “Who was it?”

  “Jake,” she whispered and started to cry again, silently this time. “Y-you were wrong. He doesn’t want me—not really. H-h-he said…” She forced the words past her lips. “I w-was s-slutted up, and I sh-shouldn’t have any trouble finding a dom who likes that. H-he told me to go look for someone else.”

  Trace’s jaw clenched, although his hand on her knee stayed gentle. “Aw, babe. I’m so sorry. You deserve better treatment than that. A lot better. You know that, right?”

  Carlie stared at him, not believing a word. Jake had said she looked like a slut. He hadn’t added a fat fool, but he might as well have. She felt fat and ugly and naked.

  “You look fine,” he said. “Beautiful and sexy. Don’t know what’s going on with Jake, but you need to know whatever it is, it’s not about you, babe. The man has—”

  Wasn’t about her, huh? Sure felt like it when he was giving her that cold, scathing look. His words replayed in her mind like a drum line that would not stop repeating. “All slutted up. Lots of tits and ass on display.” Or something like that.

  Carlie didn’t get to hear the rest of Trace’s words, as the door opened behind him. Daisy rushed in, followed by Dack. Daisy looked worried; Dack looked irritated. His face changed the instant he saw Carlie.

  “What’s goin’ on?” he demanded at the same time Daisy asked, “Oh my God. What happened?”

  Daisy hurried across the room, and Carlie dissolved in tears again. She burrowed into Daisy’s warm hug, trembling. “Jake h-hates the way I look,” she sobbed. “H-he called me a s-s-slut. A-and he told me to g-go find another d-dom.”

  “Oh, honey,” Daisy crooned. “It’s okay.” Over Carlie’s head, she said furiously, “Did you hear that, Dack? I’m gonna kill that big lump of muscle, and don’t you try to stop me.”

  Dack said something quietly, and Daisy subsided, but she muttered into Carlie’s hair something about revenge and baseball bats and new assholes.

  “I wanna go home,” Carlie said.

  “Of course,” Daisy said. “We’ll take you.”

  She coaxed Carlie out of the chair. “Here’s your pashmina, honey. Let’s take the jacket off.”

  Carlie shook her head, her chin ducked into the leather. She was not letting go of her protective covering, even if it did weigh a ton. It smelled familiar and comforting and covered up her bare skin, her horrible whore’s costume.

  “Let her keep it,” Dack said softly over her head. His arm settled around her.

  “Yeah, she can throw it in the trash when she’s done with it,” Trace muttered.

  “C’mon, Carlie.” Dack urged her toward the door. “Let’s get you home.”

  They walked her down a set of outside stairs that she’d never seen, and around a walk to the parking lot, where she was bundled into the passenger seat of her own car. Daisy drove, with Dack behind them in his truck.

  “I’m sorry I ruined your night,” Carlie said dully.

  Daisy tsked. “Honey, you are worth a hundred nights at the club. And a whole lot more.”

  The words washed over Carlie, but they didn’t penetrate her thick shroud of misery.

  “And besides,” Daisy went on. “This is all my fault.”

  Since these words didn’t penetrate either, Carlie didn’t answer.

  “Dais,” Dack said softly. “C’mere.”

  Daisy straightened from tucking the flowered sheet around her friend’s shoulders. She crossed Carlie’s dim bedroom to where Dack stood in the door, and he led her out into the cheerful, feminine sitting room. There he looked down at her. “What’re you gonna do?”

  “Spend the night with her,” Daisy said without looking at him.

  He nodded, because he figured that was what she’d do. Then he leaned back to peer into her face. “Hey, Petal. She’s gonna be okay.”

  Daisy shook her head, her mouth trembling. “This is all my fault, Dack.” Her voice rose to a squeak on the words.

  “What? How’s this your fault?” He pulled her into his arms, but instead of snuggling close as usual, she held herself stiff. That was bad, meant she didn’t think she deserved a hug.

  “I talked her into shopping for kink wear,” Daisy said miserably into his shirt. “She’s so conservative, and I know that. She even said something about Jake liking that the other doms didn’t see what he got to see, but I just kept on talking and bulldozed her into it. If I hadn’t done that, maybe he wouldn’t have gone off on her. She’s crushed, and it’s my fault.”

  Dack stroked her back, forcing her closer with his other arm, so her curvy little body was where it should be, fitted against him.

  “
Dais,” he said, bending his head so his mouth was close to her ear. “This is not your fault. You are a force to be reckoned with, that’s a fact. But Carlie is also a grown woman. She made the decision, not you.”

  “But she’s so—so uncertain of herself. She doesn’t see herself the way other people do. She thinks she’s fat. She’s really been blossoming…and I ruined it.”

  “Seems to me Jake was the one who cut her down, not you,” Dack said. He spoke gently, but anger tightened his shoulders. Jake had no fuckin’ business speaking to a sub at their club that way, especially a new one, and one who was clearly into him in a big way.

  “But C-Carlie thinks it was my fault too,” Daisy mumbled, and he felt her tears wet the front of his shirt.

  “She say that?” He was surprised and displeased by this.

  “No, but I did, and she didn’t disagree.”

  He rolled his eyes, then pressed a kiss to the top of his petal’s head. “Dais, what I’ve seen, she’s so upset she’s kinda shocky. You said you were responsible for all the crime in Portland metro, she wouldn’t react.”

  She sniffled, then lifted her head to look up at him. “You think?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Did I just say so?”

  She nodded.

  “Gimme a kiss,” he ordered. “Then I’ll go and leave you to take care of your girl.”

  She gave him a kiss, hot and sweet. His hand on her ass, he took it, deepened it. He groaned inwardly. He was supposed to be fucking her half-senseless at the club, not leaving her to go and sleep alone.

  Reluctantly he set her away. “See you in the morning,” he said. “Call me. I’ll come pick you up. We’ll take Carlie to breakfast.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Umm, tomorrow morning’s probably gonna be Black Magic donuts and coffee here, with Sara. Girl time.”

  He sighed. “All right. Then be home in time for lunch. I don’t wanna miss my Sunday afternoon with you.”

  Daisy smiled. “Yes, Dack.”

  He smiled back. “Love you, Petal.”

  “Love you, Dack.”

  He walked out, waited until he heard her lock the dead bolt after him, then jogged down the stairs to his truck. His smile was long gone.