So Much Trouble: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection (So Wrong It's Right Book 4)

by Jamie Knight

  “Bossy, bossy,” she sings at me, before showing herself to the door. Just as she leaves, she adds, “Find a girl to sweeten you, Ambrose. You’re much too bitter.” With that, she closes the door on my sanctuary and descends the stairs to my lonely tower.

  Only when she is gone do I fetch my handheld radio, and buzz down to one of my footmen. “Cecil,” I say, making tracks back to the window, and making sure I have eyes on my prize: the shorthaired redhead, still drinking in details of the club as if she hopes to capture them and make them hers. “Do you copy?”

  Enjoy looking while you can, little redhead. I’m going to put you into a dark, new world when I get you. I’m going to play with you. You’re not going to be able to just eye-fuck me whenever you like and trap me in that little head of yours.

  “Here and ready for you, Mr. White,” answers Cecil through the crackle of radio static. “What do you need?”

  I push down the button to reply, looking at my lady of the evening. “I want you to bring a young woman a headset for me. Bring a blindfold for her as well.”

  “Got it, Mr. white.” Radio static, then. “Which woman would you like me to bring those things to?”

  “She’s got short red hair. Wearing a black and pink outfit. She is right by the restraining stages. The walls of pleasure and pain. Bring those things to her and tell her to put the headset on. She can keep the blindfold for later. When I demand that she use it.”

  “Tracking down the girl now,” Cecil answers, before going silent. But I’ve no worries about him or his capabilities. Within moments, I see him draw up to the woman in question and get her attention.

  Oh, you are going to be pure candy, little redhead. Pure joy to toy with, girl. I retrieve my matching headset, slip it over my head and wait. You’re not going to know what hit you when I’m done.

  Chapter Three - Karen

  Oh. My. God. This is so, so fucking hot. I take a deep breath in, squishing my hot, sweaty face. After watching person after person get trapped to the walls and teased and tortured with vibrators, nipple clamps, pussy pumps and cock rings, I’m out of my mind with desire. Fuck trying to capture all of these impressions for my canvas! I want to capture some of this for myself while I’m here, but I don’t know where to begin.

  Everyone who’s having this kind of fun is already partnered off. They are already clit or cock-deep in their own games, so I’m not likely to find anyone to play with. Or anyone to play with me.

  But just as I start to despair — start to suck in the details of people getting fucked on those stages and on those walls, as the only way I’m going to get any enjoyment — a voice comes at me from the crowd. “Excuse me, Miss?”

  I whirl around, surprised that anyone’s coming up to me. Also, that I heard anything over the music and lights blaring and twinkling. In front of me is no playmate, but an employee of the club. I can tell by his dress, and the official-looking walkie-talkie he has clasped to his belt. In one hand, I see that he holds a headset. In the other, some kind of blindfold. The same kind I see others wearing. At first, with seeing someone so official, I’m afraid I’ve done some infraction.

  “I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to cause any trouble! I was just looking…!”

  Lady White, or whoever, she said something about not just looking. She said we needed to participate or get kicked out. My heart seizes, afraid I’m just about to have that happen to me. Instinctively, I take a step back from the club employee.

  “Please don’t kick me out! I’m wanting to get involved, I really am! I just can’t find anybody to…”

  The employee takes a step closer to me, looking as though I’ve told the best joke he’s ever heard. “I’m not here to do anything like that, Miss. I’ve been asked to bring you this headset and have you put it on.” He reaches the hand with the headset out to me. “I’ve also been told to leave you with this, Miss,” he adds, holding out the hand with the blindfold.

  “Okay?” This seems very strange to me. Even in a club like this, it seems a little out of order for a club employee to come over to me and offer me these kinds of things. Especially without an explanation. Briefly, I look over to our table, expecting to see Shay looking out for me, but I don’t see her. I don’t see any of our group around. “Why are you bringing me these things? Who told you to bring them to me?”

  Again, the guy just smiles as if I’m playing with him. “Can’t say, Miss. Requirements of my employment here: follow orders, don’t ask too many questions.” Again, he holds out his items, wiggling them at me to take them.

  “Okay,” I say irritably, “I’ll bite.” I take both items, muttering that I don’t have anything better to do anyway.

  “Keep a hold of the blindfold but put on the headset immediately. Master’s orders,” says the employee and he disappears back into the crowd, the music and lights.

  “‘Master’s orders’? What the fuck does that mean? Is he some guy’s boy toy or something?”

  Knowing I’m not going to get answers to any of my questions, I go ahead and put on the headset. As I do, I’m not expecting anybody to be on the other end. I’m certainly not expecting anyone to answer immediately, but I’m dead wrong.

  The moment I put on the headset, the moment those earphones cozy over my head, a voice addresses me. It’s deep and sexy. Cultured and educated. Though I don’t normally think one can tell a person’s age through their voice, this man sounds older than any of the men I’ve met at the University. He sounds organized and commanding.

  “Good evening, miss,” he says. “My name is Ambrose White. I’m co-owner of this club, and I’m interested in playing with you this evening, since you have nothing better to do than stare at everything in front of you.”

  I blush hot and bright. Both from what his voice is doing to me (I was already wet and hard from watching couples, but he is making that so much worse), and from his thinly veiled critique of my behavior. Like I’m a detestable tourist. Or will turned into one, if I don’t do what he says.

  “Play with me?” I ask, pushing aside my irritation, my embarrassment. Despite the part of me that says I should take off my headphones and run away as fast I can, I’m intrigued by Ambrose. Intimidated by him as well, since he seems to hold a lot of sway. “How so?”

  “It depends on how obedient you are. How nice you are to play with,” he answers lazily. “If I like the way you dance for me, I might ask you to do more. I might reward you.”

  Dance? I’m not what I would call a good dancer. I like dance floors but being on a dance floor is rare for me. “Dance? What do you mean?”

  “Go out onto the dance floor and start dancing,” he says, sounding mildly frustrated. “Quit asking questions that don’t matter and get to entertaining me.”

  Eager to have him happy with me, I race out onto the dance floor and start getting acquainted with the beat and the rhythm. As I’m tapping my feet and beginning to swim my body, I hear him add, “Sexily, now. It’s supposed to be entertainment for me, not exercise for you.”

  Following these instructions, I begin to dance as sexily as I can. I close my eyes and do my best to imitate all the beautiful women I watched tonight. Every slinky move of their hips and legs, every twist of their torsos, I mimic. I do my best to re-create all of that in my own body, surprised when I actually get into it. When I actually feel myself get some mastery, some flow over everything, I start to feel like a whole brand-new woman. Like I’m channeling some sexy spirit or something.

  I’m enjoying it so much, I’ve nearly forgotten I’m even wearing a headset, taking directions from an unknown guy, when Ambrose pipes in again. He moans appreciatively. “Beautiful work, my girl. Beautiful dancing just for me.” I hear breathiness in his voice. Also, a prideful, mischievous smile. “I think you deserve a little reward. A glance at the man in charge of you this evening.” I open my eyes, already eager to find him. If he looks anything like his voice, he is going to be fucking hot. “Find the window above the dance floor. That’s my
suite, where I’m watching you from.”

  Immediately, I find the window in question, but I’m quickly disappointed. The window is covered in long curtains. It’s also a bit tinted. No matter how hard I look, I can only see the leg of his pants, and his shiny, dark shoes. I growl, feeling betrayed. “You tricked me! All I can see are your shoes and the very edge of your pant legs!”

  Ambrose laughs like he’s a teenager now, not the mature and responsible older man he sounded like before. “Of course, girl. I’m not just for anyone to lay eyes on.”

  Still feeling angry, I add, “That may be, but as an artist, a painter, visuals are very important to me. I like to know who and what I’m seeing, so I can capture it!”

  Ambrose stops laughing at my expense, and hums thoughtfully. I’m not sure what to make of this or him, but he seems like someone interested in my plight. In my issue with him.

  Right then, I see a waiter approaching me with an alcoholic drink perched on his tray. He brings it to me, though I know I didn’t order anything. Not even this small shot of tequila.

  “Take the drink, Miss,” says Ambrose. “Drink it. After that beautiful dance you gave me, I’m eager to reward you. But only if you are obedient.”

  While I had been curious at what that “reward” might be before while dancing, after being tricked by him once, I’m not taking the bait for the drink. “I’m not going to drink that,” I say, turning the waiter away. “You tricked me once, how do I know you’re not going to trick me again?”

  In the middle of that final word, I hear the other headset cut off. I feel the line go dead. Looking up at the window, I see the shoes and pant legs retreat from view.

  For a moment, I stand there stunned and speechless. I’m not surprised that my refusal upset him. Based on the kind of man I gathered him to be from his voice, he’s used to getting his way. I just wasn’t expecting him to cut me off so quickly. He left me adrift like I’m nothing, after going to so much work to get me under his spell.

  I’m not sure what to do initially. I just stand in the middle of the dance floor, feeling lost. Alone, and also robbed of my one and only chance. This feeling of theft motivates me to action. He may be weird. He may be demanding and fickle, but Ambrose is probably going to be my only entryway into experiencing anything at this club tonight. It’s not good to upset him!

  I quickly track down the waiter. I nearly pull him off his feet as I do, saying quickly, “Let me have the drink! I changed my mind!” Without waiting for him to respond to me or my appearance, I snatch the shot glass up and down the contents.

  It isn’t tequila, like I first thought. It’s straight, strong vodka. But I don’t care. I swallow it anyway, hoping Ambrose is like the waiter — easily captured again.

  For a harrowing few seconds (it feels like hours), there is nothing from the headset.

  Then a crackle of life. The sound of his calm, deep breathing.

  Chapter Four - Ambrose

  Thinks she can tell me “no” does she? Let’s see what she does with this. I switch off the headset immediately, enjoying the instant reaction I get as I watch her panic below. The girl wears a look of surprise and shock, quickly swallowed by a look I enjoy even more. The look of regret and fear; she stands there, not knowing what to do with herself — knowing she made a big mistake.

  What will you do now, my little painter? Will you stay frozen, or will you create for yourself a solution? I can’t believe I’m curious about what she’ll do. I hate to admit that I’m leaning closely into the window, thirsting after her movements and watching the micro expressions flitting across her face. Normally I don’t give a flying fuck what a woman does after she shows she can’t play well with others, but there’s something different about this one.

  She seems to be coming out of her confusion and shock. Disappointment settles in, but even that is thrown off by her. It is brushed away under something I wasn’t expecting to see: determination. Raw, bright-edged hunger. Like she’s an athlete hiding in that artist’s body, she takes off at a run. She dashes through the crowd of dancers and rainbow lights.

  Interesting, I think, watching this one chase down the waiter with her drink still on the serving tray. Didn’t think you had that much determination in you. I watch as she practically tackles the guy, takes back her drink, and downs it. There is nothing feminine or breakable about her movements, though she is still lithe and shapely. The moment the vodka slips down her throat, and her lips go to pull away from the small, twinkling glass, I flip back on the headphones. I watch her perk up the moment I do.

  I let her hear me breathe and watch as her cheeks and eyes brightened again. They regain their focus and purpose, but I don’t say anything to her immediately. I let her drink in the sound of me a few moments more, before praising her. “Decided to play like a good girl, did you?”

  She nods. I hear her lick her lips, pant and sigh. I know my voice is getting to her. It does with every woman I’ve been with, but with her, it seems to be extra alluring. The girl’s body actually drifts along with my words, almost as though I’m her puppet master.

  “I’d advise you to keep me happy,” I tell her, enjoying the shiver I see run along her body, then the gasp I hear in my headphones. “What I just did, that was light. A warning. If you refuse to do as I tell you, exactly as ordered, I will have you kicked out of this club.” I pause, letting those words sink in. The serious nod I get seconds later is all the confirmation I need. “I’ve done it before, and I won’t hesitate to do it tonight. You may have caught my fancy, but that can change in the blink of one of your beautiful eyes.” Another nod, more serious. “But, I’m not all rough words and orders, miss.” I lighten my tone, soften my lips. “I can be generous. With both my time and my presence. If you behave nicely for me, I’ll reward you. Honestly this time,” I add, seeing her brow furrow. “I could give you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced in your life. I could satisfy hungers and curiosities beyond even your wildest dreams.” Her face is a beautiful thing to watch. The way it shifts and changes under the lights and under the influence of my words, it’s magic. “Tell me your name and if there is something you’re interested in?”

  “I’m Karen Williams and yes,” she says, not wasting my time or hers. “I’m interested in what you have to offer me if I earn it.” Her lips purse. “But you might not want to invest all that time and generosity in me, Mr. White.”

  I’m struck by her honesty, as well as the energy of doubt and defeat — shame and unworthiness — I feel in her.

  “Oh?” I cross my arms, eager for her answer, “and why wouldn’t I want to do that? If I thought you were a waste of my time, I wouldn’t have given you that drink… Or that blindfold,” I say, noticing the latter of those things still clutched in her other hand. Briefly, upon mentioning it, she becomes aware of its presence too.

  “I might not be able to go as far as you’re used to, Mr. White,” she says, blushing brightly. “I may not be as experienced as you need.”

  “Why? Spit it out, girl,” I say, already having some clue, but wanting her to say it to me.

  “I’m a virgin, Ambrose,” she says, quietly. “I’ve never been with anyone before, let alone in a place like this.”

  I laugh heartily at the situation and her. “I don’t care about your lack of experience. I prefer virgins, so your fears are of no consequence, no concern to me.” I chuckle again, watching her look honestly thrown for a loop, and relieved at the same time. “What I do care for, however, is that you obey my next order, Karen. Put that blindfold on and make your way up my private rooms.”

  As expected, she looks up at me with equal parts incredulity as well as fear. Of course she would. That’s exactly why I’m depriving her of her favorite sense — her vison. She’s looking at the blindfold in her hand as one might look at a blade. “But if I wear this, how can I find… How can I even begin to make my way…”

  “That’s not making me happy,” I tell her. “Put the blindfold on now and d
o as I say, or the very next thing you will see will be the outside of this club.”

  Reluctantly, fearfully, she obeys my command. She slips the blindfold on over her short, bright strands of hair, fitting the black material snugly over her eyes. And that moment I see her like that — blindfolded and helpless to the rest of the club — she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I can’t help myself. I reach down into my pants, grab my cock and start stroking myself.

  The way her lips are gently parted, the way her head is ever so slightly tilted, waiting for me and my instructions, that’s hot. I imagine those pouty lips sucking on me, obeying every word I say, all while she has to experience through textures, taste and smell.

  I watch as she begins her journey toward me. The last spot she remembers seeing anything to do with my private upstairs rooms, and the results are as immediately entertaining as they are sexy. Blindfold securely on, my lady of the evening begins to stumble around. She uses her fingers and hands as guide tools. She bumps and stumbles into people, platters of food, and stages.

  It happens over and over again, and each time it happens, it’s even more delightful than the last. She looks even more flustered and frustrated, which only adds to her sex appeal. The color it gives her cheeks and lips, the tension it gives her body, those are beyond delectable. I’m still stroking my cock as I watched her, getting glimpses of her ass and thighs as she trips, stumbles, and falls over altogether a few times. Those flashes of skin have me already hard and throbbing in my hand.

  I sigh into the microphone, deciding I’m going to give her a little help, a little direction, though I don’t save her entirely. I allow her to bump into a few more people and things on the way. I get to enjoy whimpers and moans as she does. But finally, I feel sorrier for her than anything, and radio to have the waiter help her up to me.

  As it is, my cock is ready for her. If I prolong this dance of ours for much longer, I might go before I’ve really had what I want: her all to myself. Karen’s mouth on me while she sucks me off until I come.