She chuckled. “That’s some fucked-up shit, but as long as it’s not me being hurt, I’m good.”
I laughed and almost doubled over with the pain. “Almita, what isn’t funny to you?”
Her smile dropped. “Losing you. Not being able to take the club, and losing you.”
Fuck, she went from funny to real in a second. “No. I won’t allow it. You will be with me.”
Once we were dressed, I kissed her again, unable to understand how I’d been lucky enough to find such a tolerant woman. In the reception area, a red note lay on the one black chair. “Send her to me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Avery
For the first time my pulse raced because I was scared. “I don’t want to go, she’s spooky.”
He rubbed his neck. “Your choice, but it’d be disrespectful not to go.”
“You come with me,” I pleaded, pulling on his hand. He touched my cheek and shivers ran through me. I hadn’t really recovered from the intensity of my orgasm or my reaction to Rock’s session.
What kind of woman is turned on by seeing her man hit?
“It’s your summons, not mine.”
I fiddled with my fingers and thought about it—too much scared me. I had to stop letting fear rule my decisions, not everything could be weighed and thought out ahead of time like in business, but I still had to act. Rock said do it, so I would trust him.
“Okay. I’ll go meet the angry goddess, but I don’t wanna,” I pouted.
He chucked my chin. “Marr is a person. I’ll be back in a bit, going to go down some pain reliever.”
I picked up the paper, like it was some sort of talisman. At the red door, I knocked once. She opened the door and held her hand out, so I walked inside.
She scanned me head to toe and I felt like she had superpowers that stripped away everything, until she could see the core of who I was. I shivered and stared down at the white tile I stood on.
“Come with me to my boudoir, we’ll talk in comfort.” Inside everything was in shades of red and black with soft, plush textures over almost every surface. She slid open a curtain, a very normal-looking living room was right in front of me, two leather love seats, a TV and desk. Marr slumped onto the couch and unzipped her thigh-high boots, kicked them off, and curled up on the couch.
“I feel like Dorothy when she meets the man behind the curtain.” I didn’t understand what was going on. Or why she’d gone from femme fatale to human—not that human wasn’t damn intimidating, but at least a little approachable.
She laughed with a low husky sound—seductive. “Apt comparison, I guess. I want you to be comfortable, I could see right away my mistress persona freaked you out, so we can be more casual here.” She motioned to the other love seat. “Sit down.”
I sat on the edge, tapping my fingers on the edge of my knees.
“Your hair color is great. Do you do it?” Marr asked me.
“Nah, Shannon at—.”
“Vivid,” she finished for me. “So we have the same stylist, let’s see what else we have in common.” She leaned forward. “Why did you come today?”
“Because maybe I love Rock.” There were a hundred things I could add to that, but in the end it all came back to that one simple truth.
“That’s obvious, but the way you became part of the scene, that was unexpected. Have you experienced masochism before?”
I shook my head.
“Are you a voyeur?”
“No.” I sounded indignant because I was. “I mean other than porn, I don’t watch sex.”
Another of her sexy laughs sent chills down my spine.
“You found a submissive headspace to help your masochist, almost immediately reading what he needed, even more, what he was afraid to ask for.” She tapped a red nail to her lips.
“What’s headspace? Sounds new agey.”
“I guess you could consider it that. People believe different things about BDSM. Some believe you have a role, one role, and that’s your place in this world. Others, like me, believe each component is a headspace—you identify, empathize with a role and can be any role for the right person at the right time in your life.”
“Oh.” I understood now. “I’m kinda a chameleon, I guess you’d say. I’m totally open to whatever a person is about, so I can easily go there with them. Like my friend Mark, who paints and draws—I can spend hours with him talking about art, going to the city for art shows, but I don’t personally love art—with him though, I do.”
Her finger stopped moving and she pointed to me. “So there’s no Avery in there, just all these morphs who change to please someone else.”
“Geez.” I frowned at her. “No, not at all, and my ‘morphing’ is a great thing, I love to support my friends, I choose to do it.” I blew out a frustrated breath, my bangs lifted up. “I get being different—hair, piercings, everything about me is my own, and not mainstream. I know how hard it can be to be different, so I pride myself on not only accepting, but experiencing others’ differences.”
“So you can shift your headspace easily to give to others?”
“Exactly.” I beamed. “That sounds much less pathetic and more accurate.”
“Very few women could, let alone would, have let themselves be lost in a masochist’s world. Did you want me to strike you in the session?”
“No!” I yelped. “I hate pain, but if Rock likes it, I like it for him.”
She just stared at me.
“I mean, it took me three years to talk myself into the pain of this tattoo.” I pulled down my shirt to reveal my label. She might’ve seen it, but maybe not. “My store means everything to me, but the tattoo was touch and go. Pain scares me.”
“It scares most people, yet you weren’t scared with Rock.” She studied me. “You’re an original. One that would do very well as a Domme.”
I laughed so hard I almost fell over. “Not me.” I struggled to say. “I couldn’t hit someone, demean someone. No way.”
“What if it’s the thing they wanted most in the world?”
That stopped me, if Mark wanted to be a biker, that was fine with me. If someone wanted me to order them around, I would. Hurt someone. Hurt Rock? That was a stretch even for me.
“Maybe.”
“People accept power and give power as a choice, because it fulfills them. How did Rock’s discipline make you feel?”
“Well, you probably saw, I mean, I didn’t really know where you were or when you left, which is unusual for me by itself, but I had to touch him, fuck him. His arousal made me crazy.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. “But then I would do about anything for him.”
“We all have natural tendencies, it’s who we are.” Marr tucked her feet under her. “Rock’s is masochism. But you,” she tapped her nail on her lips, “your natural tendency is switch.”
“What?” I was beyond confused. “And why does it matter.”
“You don’t have one tendency, you are a switch—both dominant and submissive—depending on the situation.” She gave me a slow, scary smile, one that reminded me of Jericho. “Switches are very good lovers, and a perfect match for a sadist or masochist.”
Is she hitting on me?
“Why do you do this?” I changed the subject.
“Because everyone needs a job, and I like this job.” She shrugged. “I like what I do. Why do you own a shop in a tiny town?”
I snorted. “Because it’s what I wanted to do. As if either of those answers matter, they’re not our real reasons.”
“True enough, and it bugs you I won’t confide in you.”
“Kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” I hated when she turned me around and now I was in the corner.
“You like to give to others. Is it what motivates you?”
“Yeah, t
hat’s a good thing. I’m proud of that part of me.” I charged ahead. “I mean who needs a half-ass friend.”
“Very true.”
“So if I’m a switch, what are you?” I asked.
She’d dissected and inspected me under her microscope. I was done with that.
“You have to ask?” She grinned, but it wasn’t friendly, not a single bit. “I’m naturally a sadist, so hurting others is my natural headspace.”
“So does it, like, make you want to have sex, doing that to Rock?” That idea didn’t sit well with me.
“Nah, masochists are easy prey. I like Doms.” Her eyes settled on me. “If you didn’t love him, I’d do very wicked things with you, and you’d love it.”
I just stared at her. “You’re damn spooky—what a weird way to hit on me.”
Marr laughed, clear and high. “Damn, if you aren’t honest.” She bent her head a moment before refocusing on me. “I’ve wandered from my purpose, I wanted to offer you an opportunity. If you decide to be trained in any of the tools I use to give Rock the pain he needs, I will train you.” She held up a finger. “I’ve never offered this to another who wasn’t an apprentice.”
“Why then?”
“You’re perceptive, and understand things like limits and needs almost naturally, so you wouldn’t go too far, no matter what Rock asks of you.”
The idea excited me.
“If he scheduled regular sessions, he wouldn’t pick such extreme sessions, and you could provide him that release before he’d built up so much.” She paused a long moment. “Tonight, it’d be good to be low key—a hot bath would be best. He’ll act as if he isn’t sore, but it’s not true.”
Too much information swirled in my head. He’d seemed so normal, the idea of him hiding the pain bothered me, but then maybe that was the idea. “Does he do it, pretend to be fine, because he’s too proud or to extend the pain?”
“That is the right question, the answer is to extend his pain.” She almost purred with satisfaction. Definitely different.
When I thought about providing pain, my stomach squeezed tight and a chill raced over my arms. I could help him? I would do that in a minute. “What’s the price to be trained?”
“Well, the Brotherhood would pay my rate.” She grinned wide. “But every tool I teach, you must have used on you, at least ten times, so you know its intensity and aptitude for causing pain.”
The way she examined me was like a sheep being assessed for dinner.
“We excited you, turned you on. Just now.” I’m not sure this is right, but I feel like it is.
She closed her eyes a moment. “Darling, you turn me on, which you already knew.”
I stood, incredibly uncomfortable.
“Relax, I’m not some evil witch who could or would change your mind, so instead, although I’m doing this very badly, I’d hoped we’d become friends.”
I coughed out a laugh. “This,” I sputtered. “This is how you start a friendship?”
She laughed with a soft grace. “I don’t have many friends for a reason.”
“Yeah, I totally see that.” I blew out a breath. “I’ll think about the pain thing, but the friendship, totally happy to be friends. Give me your number and we’ll go get food, drinks, do chick stuff.”
Marr laughed. “Yeah, I could use some chick stuff.”
I left weirded out and wondered what I’d agreed to, I mean what kind of friend says I’d rather be your lover but friends would be cool, too.
I found Rock sitting waiting on me. He gave me a shy smile. “Did she convert you?”
“To what?”
He shrugged. “You were in there a long time?”
“Nah, just a few minutes.”
“Forty-five minutes.” He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into his side.
No way. It had felt like hardly any time had passed. “She’s different.”
“Let’s go out, do something.” Excitement showed in his eyes.
“This is too much, a lot to process, maybe some Netflix and Chill.” I gazed up. “Or chill, a lot.”
“Almita, that’s always my favorite pastime.” He held my hand as we left the club and all the way back to his place. We ate delivery pizza for a late lunch and watched a movie as the afternoon slipped into evening.
“I noticed your huge whirlpool tub.” I smoothed his forehead as he lay on my lap. The credits rolled on the TV. “Maybe we should heat things up.”
“Why?” He gave me a suspicious look.
“I’m thinking that hot water, bubbles, you and me, that would be fun.” I decided not to mention his beaten muscles.
“Yeah, bubbles?” He frowned at me.
“Of course, bubbles!” I insisted. “That’s the only way to have fun in a whirlpool, they totally take over.”
“Bubbles for you, then.” He sat up and kissed me, a hot, slow kiss that created bubbles inside of me.
We eventually made it to the bathroom. He turned on the tub while we stripped out of our clothes. His body had red strips all along it, but I had no idea what to say, so I said nothing. I’d let him take the lead in talking about Marr, or not, at least for now.
“I don’t have bubble bath.” He sounded relieved.
“Shower gel works.” I danced by him and grabbed his shower gel from the shower stall, squeezing some into the water. Bubbles foamed up almost instantly. “See, bubble bath.”
He snorted. “At least I’ll smell like a man. What I’ll do for you.” Emotion hid in the depths of his eyes. How much did he care for me? Did I love him? Was it enough to knock down all the road blocks in front of us?
I shut down those questions for another day and stepped into the steamy foam. “Come find me.” I slid down into the tub almost totally hidden by the bubbles.
He laughed and followed me into the tub. Water splashed at the top of the tub with both of us inside. He turned off the water and knelt in the tub.
I slid to the side. “Me on top. Move over here.”
He didn’t argue but slid his huge body into the center of the tub taking up most of the room. Water sloshed over the side. “Now come here little one.” He crooked his finger at me.
I straddled his hips feeling his erection between us.
“Lean closer, I need your tits, now.”
I complied, and he lulled me into a blissful waves of pleasure as he suckled one then the other. Need swelled inside me. I shifted, sliding up and positioning him at my opening before slowly sinking back down.
“Mmmm.” He drew me back to him sucking harder on my nipple as his hands slipped down my sides to my hips. He pushed up into me and his fingers played with my nub. The heat, the slippery coating of our bodies—all so sensual. Each sensation built the others until we pushed into each other with a frantic need.
I threw back my head as the pressure built inside me. I was almost there. I needed just a bit more. I fell forward biting his neck and he pressed deep inside. “Rock.” I shouted as the climax shot through me.
“Almita.” We held on tight as we soared together.
After our sudsy fun and shower to wash off all the suds, I dressed, restless this evening. I’d been away from home a lot lately and needed some time there to sort through all that happened this weekend.
Rock dressed in jeans and joined me in his living room. “What would you like to do now?”
I caressed his cheek. “I need to spend a night at home catching up on laundry and chores. Would you mind taking me home?”
He stiffened. “Are you okay? It’s been an intense weekend.”
“I’m better than fine, just thought some downtime might be good for both of us.” I ran my finger down his defined bare bicep. “When we’re together I’m so worked up...”
He grinned a ve
ry smug male grin. “I’m too damn hot, I know it.”
“Exactly.” I beamed up at him.
“Yeah, sure, almita. Let me finish getting dressed, and I’ll take you home.”
* * *
Less than an hour home, I fought the instinct to tell Glory everything, but I couldn’t tell her Rock’s secrets.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with the biker,” Glory said between mouthfuls of popcorn. “You two are getting serious.” She eyed me with that sarcastic way she had. “And that’s bad for you.”
“Shut it, it’s the best thing ever.”
“Yeah, you tell Daddy dearest? Brought him home for supper?” Glory rolled her eyes. “Sooner or later you’ll have to choose.”
“No, I refuse to choose. Others can choose, but I am not playing those damn games. I shouldn’t have to pick my biker or my family, or the town for that matter.” This just pissed me off, and it wasn’t the first time Glory had brought it up. “Every time someone joins the Brotherhood the town goes loco, pretending they don’t exist. That’s bullshit.”
“Once everyone knows what I know, they’ll choose for you.” Her haughty tone was too much.
I stood hands fisted. “Just what do you know, Glory Ann Schafer?”
“That you love him.” Her tone turned soft, sympathetic.
That maybe hurt worse. It was like she thought we were doomed. We were not doomed, not Romeo and Juliet. “Maybe love him, and anyone.” I stared at her. “Who can’t accept whoever I choose, they aren’t my friends. Because friends and family want you to be happy.”
“Really, Pollyanna? How you paying for rent when no one shops your store? When your daddy calls you nasty names?”
She wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already thought about. However hearing her say it made it more real. And why did she go there? I mean if she understood I loved him—maybe loved him, there was still the club to deal with—why did she have to go here first. No way to go, Avery, or I’m happy you found someone. Glory had to focus on the negative—the worst of the worst.
“I have internet orders and he already does that shit.” I crossed my arms, settling into pissed off.
Release Page 14
