Roark's Leading Lady [Soldiers of Passion 2] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Dace Everan

  Roark grinned, biting into his bacon-and-egg wrap. “I would have…but you would have begged me for it.”

  Harley frowned chewing on her wrap. “How would that work if the woman were on the upper hand of that situation?”

  Roark smiled. “This is why I would top and you would be the bottom.”

  Harley grunted. “You can make me beg, but I can’t make you? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Roark shook his head. “Plenty of ways for you to make me beg, baby…I’m just not going to help you in that area. If you can’t figure it out on your own, you ain’t meant to top.”

  Harley sniffed. “I could do it!” she grumbled weakly, wishing she had a little more fight behind those words.

  Roark popped the rest of his wrap in his mouth and chugged down the glass of juice she had placed in front of him.

  He was sure she could do it. He would love every moment of it as well. He was secure enough to have his girl boss him around a bit in the intimacy department.

  Chapter Four

  Harley finished cleaning up the kitchen and glanced around her apartment. Her message was bleeping, and she was sure it was Layle returning her rude phone call from earlier. She glanced across the open room at Roark, who lay sprawled across her couch, bare chested, watching some sports program on her flat screen. “Is this what you do in your off time?” she asked, plucking up her phone.

  Roark tilted his head, looking at her upside down. “Go to women’s houses and watch their little TVs? No. I spend most of my time club hopping, working on my flogging skills.” He turned his attention back to the television.

  Harley frowned, crossing to him, sitting square on his tummy. He didn’t say a thing. In fact, he placed a hand on her thigh. “You planned on doing that this time around?” she asked, fingering the phone.

  Roark shook his head looking at her. “No, I had every intention of coming here, spanking you, and, by the time we had to return to duty, hopefully having you flogged at least a dozen times.”

  Harley stared at him. “Does it hurt?” she asked frankly. It honestly freaked her out. She’d had men belt a good fist to her face or body parts in combat, and she had no desire for that kind of pain.

  Roark shook his head. “The one I would start out with would probably tickle you. The second would massage you.”

  Harley bit her lower lip in between her teeth, thinking his words over. She couldn’t imagine how being flogged would be something desirable.

  “If you would like, we can go to Laird’s club. Scope out the scene, let you watch and observe.”

  Harley looked at him. “Is a person even allowed to do that? Isn’t that some sort of perverted thing?”

  Roark held back the smile at her innocence shaking his head. “I watched for months, trying to figure out what the fuck I was feeling…I was taught not to harm women. You definitely don’t take a whip or flogger to them.”

  Harley scrunched up her nose, only to have Roark run his finger down the bridge of it

  “I won’t do anything you’re not fine with…Call your Layle up and see if Laird will offer us an invite. His club is top notch, and not just anyone can get in there.”

  Harley scoffed. “I thought you were in there once already?”

  Roark nodded. “I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship within the lifestyle. Not with my job. I cancelled my membership and just hit the not-so-high-class clubs.”

  Harley grunted. “Do I have to dress up for this?”

  Roark shook his head. “You could go as you are, but you would feel out of place,” he warned.

  Harley looked back to the phone. Maybe she should talk to Layle about it. She obviously knew more about it. She hopped off his hard tummy, and his hand grabbed hold of hers.

  “I shouldn’t have pushed you last night, Harley, and I’m sorry…You make me want to lose control.” It wasn’t an excuse, just simply the truth.

  Harley furrowed her brow. “I’m just going to be in my room,” she whispered, slipping her hand from his warm grasp. She hoped he would leave her alone for a while. She needed private time with Layle.

  * * * *

  Harley grabbed the hem of the leather skirt, shifting it down. “Fuck, my garter is showing,” she grumbled, trying again to yank her skirt down.

  Layle giggled. “Leave it, Harley. Totally acceptable here,” she assured, slipping her arm through Harley’s and hugging her close.

  Layle peeked up at her. “Laird said I could take you around. Roark will be late. Apparently something came up and he asked Laird to keep an eye on you till he managed to get here.”

  Harley snorted. “Of course, leave it to a man to duck out when he’s supposed to be here to show me his freaky sex fantasies,” she grumbled. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this! What the hell was the matter with her? She didn’t go out of her way to please men! They should go out of their way to please her!

  Layle sighed, hugging her arm close. “Relax, Harley. He would not have left you hanging unless it was important,” she assured. Shit, she didn’t know the man, but Laird had said Roark Hurt would not leave a woman hanging unless something major had happened. She had to believe in Laird’s trust in Roark.

  Harley came to a screeching halt past the main front doors. Her heart accelerated and her eyes widened. A man stood in leather pants straight across the room, a mean-looking whip in his hand and a woman bound to an enormous X in front of him, her naked breasts out for everyone to see. He stepped back, and Harley got a full view of the rest of her nakedness. “Oh my God!” she whispered in shock.

  Layle tugged her along. “Come have a stiff one. There is a limit of three drinks only, and only one an hour. I would advise water after this first drink,” she shared, smiling at the bar tender. “Master Ronaldo,” she greeted, bowing her head to him in a polite greeting.

  Ronaldo grinned, reaching out catching her chin between his thumb and finger. “Glowing tonight, little one…Where is your Master?” he asked, his eyes scanning the room.

  Layle blushed. Ronaldo always teased her. “In the office,” she murmured.

  Ronaldo nodded. “I’ll keep an extra eye on you and your friend.”

  Layle nodded. “Master Ronaldo, this is Harley. She’s here to observe and see what the lifestyle has to offer.”

  Ronaldo looked the woman over. Big cinnamon-brown curls cascaded down her silk-covered back. Dark-red lipstick stained her full lips, and he guessed her thick lashes were all natural. “Where is your Master, pet?” he asked.

  Harley grunted. “Not here, that’s for sure.” She growled, annoyed that Roark would plan to do this, then ditch her. Motherfucker! Last time she would do anything for that asshole!

  Ronaldo cocked his head. “You’re mad at him?”

  Harley scoffed, looking at the many bottles of water in the fridges behind him. “Can I get a scotch, clean? Yes, I’m mad,” she muttered, her chin lifting, not bothering to pay any attention to the man.

  Ronaldo grabbed a glass and poured her the scotch. He placed it on the bar and kept a grip on it. “I’ll tell you now, pet. No man in his right mind would leave you hanging. Your Master had good reason for being late.”

  Harley looked Ronaldo in the eyes. Tall and full all around, there was nothing attractive about him to her. He had a regular old haircut, neatly combed. His shirt was a stiff white that showed his protruding belly. His pants were classic dress pants. His nose slightly crooked from an obvious break.

  She took the glass from his grip and gulped it back in one gulp. “Thank you much, kind Sir, for the drink and counsel.”

  * * * *

  Layle led her around the room, explaining to her each piece of equipment and how it worked. Pointed out where the woman or man was tied down. Pointed out the monitors who made sure everyone was safe and that everything was safe, sane, and consensual.

  After a quick tour and update on how things were run, the two settled on a couch, where Harley had a good viewpoint of every area of the m
ain floor.

  “There are more rooms upstairs,” Layle filled in, taking a sip of her water.

  Harley scratched at the label on the water bottle. “I can’t believe you’re into this, Layle,” she whispered in awe.

  Layle shrugged. “I had always been into it, Harley…This club is a no-penetration club. I enjoy being flogged, and you know that. We went to that sex shop and you struck me with that little flogger.”

  Harley looked at her. “When in the fuck was this?” she uttered.

  Layle frowned. “Right after we graduated,” she reminded her.

  Harley frowned thinking back. Shit, she was right. They had gone and bought some friggin’ oversized vibrators and then went out on the town…It was before Layle had been hurt. When Layle had been strong and knew what she wanted in life. A strong, dominant man to take total control of her, mind, body, and soul.

  She slumped back. Shit, Layle had been so honest about it. They had been so open about everything. How had she forgotten that kind of closeness? She took up Layle’s hand. “I’m sorry, Layle, this last job out was hard.”

  Layle hugged her hand close. “I understand that, Harley. I wish you would give Roark a chance. Laird told me a little bit about him and how he was.”

  Harley nodded. “We talked a little bit.” She rested her head on Layle’s shoulder. She chuckled, glancing down her friend’s little bit of cleavage. “Shit, I can’t believe you stripped like that in front of them, and then undressed me!”

  Layle giggled. “Shit, Harley, I was so hot,” she admitted.

  Harley kissed her temple. “Me, too…”

  Layle looked at her. “Laird would never have let anything happen that shouldn’t. If he had sensed you were way out of your element, he would have put a stop to everything. He believes in pushing a person past their initial want. He hadn’t reached that with you that day.”

  Harley grunted. She had chickened out, it was true. “I wasn’t ready for that, Layle.”

  Layle nodded, kissing her friend’s cheek. “Next time, if it happens, I hope you can have enough trust in us to let it continue.”

  Harley shrugged. “I’m not sure I can do that, Layle. I don’t think this is what I want, not in my sex life.” She shrugged. She wondered if Roark could honestly just settle for a little rough sex. She had no desire to be tied up. That had freaked her out last night, and the thought of him spanking her just pissed her off to no end. But to have him tell her what to do, boss her around?

  The way he had told her things would have worked out this morning after he had left her bed, and how he would have kept her there, had made her pussy weep. Until, of course, he had mentioned spanking her. Shit, could she honestly let a man strike her? She had watched women get beat down, not only physically, but mentally.

  “Well, that look does not bode well for me,” Roark voiced from in front of her.

  Harley glared at him. “No, it doesn’t! You had better have a good reason for not being here!” she harped. Her gaze landed on the leather pants hugging his long, lean legs. Her heartbeat quickened, and her panties dampened.

  Roark grinned at the lustful look in her eyes, taking a seat next to her. “I see you haven’t warmed up at all in my absence,” he drawled, draping an arm around her shoulder. His hand came to rest over her breast.

  Harley grunted. “No, I haven’t! Feel free to get your hand the fuck off me!” she grumbled.

  Roark sighed, glancing at Layle. “Layle…you look lovely,” he chimed, not removing his arm or hand.

  Layle smiled. “Thank you, Master Roark. I had thought you would bring your bag. Master Laird had said you could use me as a demo for Harley to see what you could offer.”

  Roark shook his head. “I told her this was strictly a see-and-assess situation.”

  Layle nodded. “If you change your mind, let Master Laird know.”

  Roark smiled. “Thank you for the offer, Layle. It would have been a pleasure to have been at your disposal.”

  Harley frowned. “How the hell would you have been at her disposal?” she uttered, confused as ever.

  Roark grinned. “Layle likes to be flogged. Master Laird is a sadist. He prefers heavier tools, such as the whip.” He looked over Layle’s delicate skin. There was no way Laird had used a whip on her. “He is most likely meeting her needs, and she is probably allowing others to service his.” He looked at Layle for confirmation.

  Layle smiled. “He is allowed to go to others for his needs. Only here at the club, though, and the same goes for me if I am in need of a good flogging.”

  Roark nodded.

  Harley furrowed her brow. “So you and Laird are in an open relationship?”

  Layle sighed. “Only when it comes to those needs. Does he fuck other women? No, absolutely not. Do I fuck other men? Only if Master Laird invites one into our bed, otherwise, absolutely not. I have no interest in having sex with anyone but my Master.”

  Harley’s eyes near bugged out of her head. “You’ve had two at once!” she uttered, grabbing the attention of a tall, dark god a few seats away from them.

  Roark smirked at the man’s lusty look at his girl.

  Harley groaned in jealousy. What had she been missing out on, working all the time? Shit, she had to admit that was a fantasy that she had had for a very long time.

  Roark played with a curl that fell loose of her pinned-up hair. “You do have an admirer who we could arrange something with. I personally would wait until you learned a few rules and manners. He’s a Dom as well and would not put up with your unruly ways.”

  Chapter Five

  Harley’s gaze shot across the room to the pretty-looking man. She looked up at Roark. He was watching her assess the man. “I don’t think so,” she grumbled.

  Roark raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that, two men at once? I’m thinking you could handle a little double teaming. Shit, you would love it.” He was sure of it. One man fucking her sweet cunt while the other fucked her fine ass. Shit, he had dibs on her ass. The feel of those full globes all heated against his pelvis as he slammed into her ass…His dick strained against the zipper of his pants.

  Layle giggled. “That’s Master Dedrick. He likes the flogger as well,” she shared, eyes averting as he crossed the room to their group.

  “Layle, sweet pet, please introduce me to the handsome man and the sour-looking one,” he drawled, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of them.

  Harley gave the man the stink eye.

  Roark grinned, holding out his hand as Layle introduced him.

  Dedrick nodded. “I’ve seen you in action. Very nice. I’m still trying to best your last show at that convention a few years back.”

  Roark chuckled. “Man, I think I seriously lucked out with pretty little Gail. She had been the perfect sub that night. Her mindset on the situation was awesome.”

  Dedrick nodded. “Yes, that’s a major point right there. Layle here is excellent to work with,” he praised.

  Roark glanced at her. As much as he would like to have her flesh flaming red, it wasn’t her he wanted. His gaze landed on Harley. The blending of flaming flesh with her natural copper tones was what made him purr.

  Laird slapped Dedrick on the back. “Dedrick, you’ve met Harley and Roark?”

  Dedrick offered a friendly smile. “Roark, yes. Harley, no wonder she’s so sour.”

  Harley narrowed her eyes. “Have a few choice words for you as well, Mr. Dedrick,” she muttered.

  Dedrick smirked. He would enjoy beating the sass out of this one.

  Layle shot her a look of calm the hell down that Harley, of course, chose to ignore.

  Dedrick had her over his lap and a firm grip on her shoulders while her legs were tucked between his. He leaned close to her ear. “Your safe word is ‘red.’ I will punish you harder if you dare use it before necessary. I do not take kindly to rude little girls and will not waste my time on chickenshits.”

  Harley gritted her teeth. “You can’t do this!” she
yelled.

  Dedrick chuckled, rubbing her ass. At least she took the jab and didn’t call “red.”

  Harley blushed, as her skirt was riding up and she was sure they could all see her bare ass. Thongs! Why the fuck had she worn a thong? Heat filled her cheeks in embarrassment.

  Dedrick glanced at Roark. “Permission granted to punish your unruly pet, Master Roark?”

  Roark nodded. He had seen the fight in her eyes when Dedrick had called her a chickenshit. She would take it. Not sure if she would enjoy it. He hoped she would calm and realize it wasn’t as bad as she thought.

  Harley tensed at the first slap against her bare flesh. Her face turned a flaming red, and she had never been so embarrassed in her whole life.

  “You degrading, self-absorbed shithead!” she yowled as the next one struck in the same spot. Her tummy fluttered, and she ground her teeth, seething mad. She would kill the motherfucker! Her mind scrambled for mean names to call the fucker who demanded this of her. The third smack eased into her flesh and she bit her lower lip, a slight moan escaping her. No way in hell was she enjoying this.

  Then his hand was there, rubbing, feeling the ripe curve of her ass. Oh shit, she could feel the calluses on his palms! His fingers were thick and long. Her gaze darted to Roark’s hands. She shivered.

  “Get…your goddamn…hands off me!” she managed, eyes closing as his finger followed the simple strand that was her thong. Her thighs clenched tighter as her pussy wept. “So not fair,” she whined. They couldn’t touch her in places when she had just gotten back and had no release! “Bully!” she muttered as his finger rubbed her clit through the scant bit of material.

  “I think this poor pet is in dire need of a pussy flogging, Master Roark,” he advised.

  Harley near bound off Dedrick’s lap at his words. She gave her head a vigorous shake. Was he friggin’ serious! He was going to take a flogger to her pussy!

  Dedrick all but tightened his grip slightly to hold her in place. He dipped close to her ear. “What is your safe word pet?” he asked.