Pansy's Passion [The Black Dahlia Hotel 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Skye Michaels

Pansy was sitting on the couch with her feet up when her cell phone rang. Everyone except Billie had left. Ha. Blocked Number again. “Billie, I think it’s Capriccio again.” Billie sat on the couch next to her and took the phone. He hit the answer and speaker buttons. He gestured for her to speak. “Hello.”

  “Ms. Nicholas, this is Louis Capriccio. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m okay, all things considered. My studio is a mess.”

  “About that. I feel very badly, and I’d like to help you out.”

  “I told you I’m not interested in any investors.”

  “No. No. I mean, help you out—no strings attached. I feel bad about your troubles.”

  She glanced at Billie. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Can I write you a check for the damages, or send in a cleanup team?”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I’m a nice guy?”

  “Somehow I doubt that. I don’t want to have any obligations to you, Mr. Capriccio. I think our business is done. Just leave me alone.”

  She was about to hang up when Billie gave her the “wait a minute” signal and whispered, “Put him on hold.” She raised her eyebrows but did as directed. “Let him take care of the damages he caused. I have a feeling he’s been directed to ‘fix’ this or else.”

  Now she was really confused. “By who?”

  “Just do it. You’ll want to get back to your studio after the show. I wouldn’t move the collection back there just yet. You still need to stay under the radar for now.”

  “Ms. Nicholas? Are you still there?”

  Pansy hit the buttons again. “I’m still here. You can pay for the cleanup if you would like to make amends for what you or your men did. You also owe me about five thousand dollars for the dresses that were slashed.”

  “Holy shit. I had no idea so much damage had been done.”

  “Yes, I was quite surprised and dismayed myself when I went to the studio the other night. The police were also amazed at the amount of damage. Those were all custom-made outfits for private clients that were slashed.”

  “The police?”

  “Of course. I had to make a report for my insurance company. The alarm company called them when they found the doors open and the mess inside.”

  “I’m sorry for your trouble. How about if I send you a check for seven thousand? Do you think that will cover it?”

  Billie nodded. “Yes, that will be fine. Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Capriccio.” She raised her eyebrows at Billie.

  “Okay. I’ll have it delivered tomorrow. Where are you?”

  “Thank you. Just put it in the mail to the studio. I’ll get it.”

  “Okay. We’re square now, right?”

  “When I cash your check, we will be. Thanks again.” She disconnected the call. “What the hell just happened, Billie?”

  “I know a guy. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Get your show ready and see what happens.”

  “I would really like to know…” Billie reached over and pulled her into his lap. His lips came down on hers, effectively shutting her up. She was not done with this line of questioning. Or maybe she was. The man could kiss. She sank into a daze as her body reacted to Billie’s arms coming around her and pulling her up tight against his great chest. She loved his chest. The muscles rippled under her fingers. She could feel the dampness beginning to gather on her pussy and a definite tingle down south.

  When they came up for air, he put his forehead against hers. “Give me the word, Pansy, and I’ll sleep on the couch, or we can take this road show upstairs. I’ve been trying to keep my distance and give you a little space to decide about us, but I don’t want to do that anymore.”

  What was he up to? Was he trying to distract her, or was he just trying to get into her panties? “Billie?”

  “You know this has been simmering between us since the day we met. We’ve annoyed and aggravated each other every time we’ve been together. I’d like that to stop. I think it’s just the chemistry between us causing minor explosions. I really—I don’t want to say ‘like’ you, because it’s much more than that. Let’s just see what happens, okay?”

  Pansy knew she should be careful here. She and Billie really were a powder keg waiting to explode. If she was honest with herself, if not him, she really more than liked Billie Crockett. She also wanted to know just what he’d done to solve her Capriccio problem in such a satisfactory manner. This was very mysterious and intriguing. Just who or what was Billie Crockett?

  “What do you say? Upstairs with me or the couch?”

  “Upstairs.” There really was no other decision to make. She wanted Billie Crockett.

  He shifted her off his lap and stood up. Then he took her hand and led her up the stairs to the sleeping platform. He backed her up against the bed and began to unbutton her shirt. She did the same to his. All of a sudden, they couldn’t move fast enough. Hands and fingers fumbled while he kissed her senseless. Before she knew what had happened, he had her stripped out of her shirt, jeans, and panties. She watched the lids lower over his smoky, dark-chocolate eyes as he took in her naked body from top to toe. She smiled. She knew her boobs were high and firm, and her butt was a little bigger than she would like. A lady liked to be appreciated, and the sexy look in Billie’s eyes said he appreciated what he saw.

  Pansy kicked off her boots and reached for the snap at his waistband. She lowered his zipper and pushed his jeans down. Ummm, commando. For some reason, that was so sexy. His big cock was hard and proud. It was beautiful, with a full mushroom head and a prominent vein on the underside, and his balls were full and hard as well. Billie almost fell on the bed as he hastened to kick out of his boots and pants legs.

  She ran her hands down over his washboard abs before she pushed the shirt off his shoulders. She grinned at him. “Don’t think I’m going to forget about our interrupted conversation.”

  “Want to bet?” He pulled her down next to him on the bed and ran his hands down over her chest until he had captured her breasts. He began to lick and suck one and then the other. “This is a feast. I don’t know what to kiss and suck first. I guess I’ll have to start at the top and taste my way down your body until I get to the prize. You are even more beautiful than I thought you would be. And believe me, I had great expectations.” His lips were gliding down the side of her neck, leaving goose flesh behind them.

  “You’re quite beautiful yourself, Billie Crockett.” Oh, boy. She was going to enjoy every minute of this. Her pussy was starting to vibrate in anticipation. Pansy had known from the beginning that Billie, with his bad-boy vibe and smartass sense of humor, had the potential to rock her world. She was starting to teeter on the edge. He pushed her back on the bed and began to kiss and lick his way down her abdomen toward her pussy. The anticipation was killing her. He was certainly taking his time.

  Pansy started to raise her hips to encourage him. He held her hands above her head and whispered, “Slow down, Pansy. Keep still. You can’t rush me. I’ve been waiting too long for this, and I plan to enjoy every moment to the fullest.” He went back to her breasts. It was all she could do to obey and stay still. He flicked his rough tongue over her nipples, and she wanted to scream. He anchored her lower body with one leg between her thighs. “We’re not in the dungeon, but we are going to do this my way.”

  “Just so long as we do it, and soon.” He reached down and smacked her thigh. “Ouch.”

  “Who is in charge here?”

  “You are, just hurry.”

  He laughed. “I can see I am going to have to teach you patience. Pleasure delayed is pleasure increased by anticipation three-fold. Now, spread your thighs for me. I want to taste that sweet cream I can smell.” She did as directed, and he immediately began exploring her pussy with his talented fingers. She had watched his beautiful hands on the keyboard many times and wondered what they would feel like on her body. Finally, he plunged two fingers between her wet folds. She rose
to meet him, and he immediately withdrew. “Be still. Every time you move, I will stop what I’m doing. You are not to come until I give you my permission.”

  Oh, God. I don’t know if I can do this. The ache between her legs was making her twitchy. She wanted to ride his thigh, but she knew he wouldn’t allow it. This was torture.

  “You will learn that ordering a Dom to do something is likely to get you just the opposite.” She moaned. How did Melodie stand this? She felt like she was going to spontaneously combust. Pansy forced herself to take a deep breath and begin counting to one hundred in her head. When she got to one hundred, she started again. All the while, Billie was torturing her with his fingers. Finally, she felt his hot breath on her pussy. She thought she might cry with relief. She spread her legs wider and prayed he was going to use his tongue. He blew softly on her labia. Pansy couldn’t stay still. She wanted to scream. She needed to clamp her legs shut, but now they were held apart by his wide shoulders, and he held her hands tight at her sides. She was at his mercy. Billie Crockett gave new meaning to the word “foreplay.” Billie continued the slow torture.

  Finally she said, “Billie, please. I can’t wait.”

  “Call me Sir.”

  “What?” She was confused. Her body was coming apart at the seams, and her mind was not at its clear, sharp, best. What was he talking about?

  “Call me Sir and ask again nicely.”

  “Sir?”

  “See, that’s not so hard. What do you want me to do to you, Pansy?”

  “Jesus, Billie. I want you to fuck me.”

  “No, that’s okay. Calling me Sir will be sufficient. Say it again.” Oh, this smartass is impossible.

  “Sir, I want you to fuck me.” He was going to pay for that later. She would see to it. Sir, indeed, and Pansy Nicholas didn’t have to beg any man.

  He levered up on his muscular arms, positioned his hard cock, and drove into her in one long, smooth thrust. Her body quickly stretched to accommodate his girth. And then he went still. Perfectly still. She tried to rise up and stroke him, but he still controlled her body. Her pussy was screaming for the friction and pounding she knew he could deliver if he would just move. “What do you say, Pansy?”

  “Please, Sir.”

  Billie began to stroke her pussy with long, slow, steady strokes as though he had all the time in the world when what she wanted was a hard, fast fucking. God, I need hard and fast. He is killing me. This was not what she had expected. She’d thought they would have a nice, hard fuck and she would get off quickly. This slow, aching need that permeated her entire body from the top of her head to her tingling toes was driving her mad. If he didn’t give her what she needed soon, she was going to come apart at the seams. Billie looked deeply into her eyes. “You are going to learn to trust me, Pansy, and when you do, you are going to call me Master.”

  Like fucking hell! Billie Crockett was going to have to work a hell of a lot harder before that ever happened. But, oh God, she needed him to move.

  “What do you want, Pansy?”

  “Fuck me, damn it. Fuck me.”

  Finally, he began to ramp up the slow easy strokes until he was pounding into her hot, slick cunt. She was climbing toward the summit. If he stopped now, she’d kill him. But she looked up into his face and saw the strain and the sweat trickling down his temples. Apparently, the slow and steady pace was just as hard on him as it had been on her. They both needed the pounding. Their eyes locked as they spiraled off the planet and into the cosmos on the sparkling wave of a monumental orgasm. Holy hell. The man can fuck.

  * * * *

  Billie collapsed on Pansy’s chest and tried to catch his breath. He had known she wanted fast and furious, and that was why he had given her slow and easy until the end. And then, he’d had as strong of a need as she did for a good, hard fuck. They had both blasted off. It was funny. Even though he had come like a two-ton bomb, and usually would be ready to roll over and go to sleep afterward, he found he wanted to cuddle with Pansy and hold her tight. He didn’t want to let her go. This was so not Billie Crockett, Dark Place’s keyboard man. He’d known she had the potential to rock his world, and he was afraid she was going to.

  * * * *

  Pansy sighed. That had been monumental, incredible, amazing—and she was being ridiculous. This was smartass Billie Crockett. Sir? Master? They would see about that. This trip to Florida after the band’s tour and after Fashion Week was going to be very interesting. She knew she and Melodie would have to chew this development over. She wondered exactly what Billie Crockett was up to. Then she giggled. The man really did know what to do with his instruments.

  Chapter Five

  The Loft, Stranahan Shoe Factory Building, Tribeca Section of New York, New York, Wednesday, mid-morning, January 13, 2016

  Pansy and Melodie were sharing coffee at the loft while she supervised the final fittings of the outfits on the actual models who would be wearing them in the show. She had two excellent seamstresses she used for her couture line, and the girls were working through the lineup of dresses as Billie had laid them out. “Well, you must already miss Logan, but he’ll be back for your operation. Are you nervous?”

  “No. After so many of Dr. Goldman’s little tune-ups, it’s just the same old, same old. I hope this is the last one.” Melodie’s face had been slashed by a derelict on the street near her art gallery over two years previously, and she was still undergoing remedial surgery to reduce the scar. Pansy was grateful to Logan for several things, the most important being that he had probably saved Melodie’s life on the street that day by controlling the bleeding with his bare hands until the paramedics arrived. The second was that he had gone back to the gallery two years later, and had brought Melodie out of the self-imposed exile that the scar on her face had caused. “So what’s up with you and Billie?”

  “We spent most of last week together when he wasn’t busy with Logan getting ready to leave, and I wasn’t busy wrapping up details on the show. Milk Studios will have my look book ready next week. I decided against a video. Too expensive right now.”

  “So how are you guys getting along?”

  “Well, you know Billie. He’s a smartass and a brat.”

  “Oh, and you, missy, are all sweetness and light.”

  “Of course I am.” Melodie didn’t let her get away with anything, just as she didn’t let Melodie get away with anything. “We’re doing okay. Actually, I was surprised at how well we do get along considering our history. I have to say he’s fantastic in bed, and he can be surprisingly affectionate and sweet. I wasn’t expecting that. For such a tough, macho Dom type, he’s a surprisingly enthusiastic snuggler.”

  “Has he taken you to the dungeon yet?”

  “No. We decided to save that until the trip to the Black Dahlia. With all the stress of the show and the tour, we decided not to start something new. That D/s stuff does tend to creep into our interactions, if you will. That’s just his nature, who he is. Actually, I like it when he controls my hands or doesn’t let me move, although it drives me crazy at the time.”

  “I had a feeling you two would be dynamite together.”

  “Well, don’t get your hopes up yet. We still have lots of issues to work out. One thing he has yet to explain is how he managed to settle my problem with Louis Capriccio. Every time I bring it up, he manages to change the subject, kiss me senseless, or in some other way divert my attention. I get the distinct impression that he just doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “I know you’re curious about that. I know I am myself. I tried to get some info out of Logan, but he just said Billie would explain everything to you when he was ready. So, I guess that’s that for now. Once Logan makes up his mind about something, it’s like moving a mountain to get him to change it.”

  “I guess. You know I can’t let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “Boy, is that ever true.”

  “Oh, really? Smarty pants.” Pansy sipped her coffee while she kept a vigilant eye on t
he fitting process going on across the room. Pansy was a little concerned. “You know, I’m not sure about this BDSM stuff. I don’t know if I can do it. How did you feel about it at first?”

  “Well, Logan took it slow to start. He just introduced little things like confining my hands or telling me I had to wait to orgasm. He did tell me he was a Dom on our first date. He’s always been very upfront and careful with me, and sorry, but I don’t think there is a sexier man on the planet. BDSM is just the icing, you know?”

  “I have to agree he’s right up there at the top of the list, but Billie is no slouch in the ‘Sexiest Man’ competition.”

  “I have to agree. Why do you think I’ve been pushing you two together despite the friction and fireworks? Logan took his time introducing me to the different aspects like impact play and bondage. We didn’t do it all at once. I have to say, I love it now. We don’t do it all the time, and it certainly isn’t a twenty-four-seven situation. I wouldn’t like that, but it sure does add an additional pop and sizzle to sex.”

  “You guys certainly do pop and sizzle.”

  “Have you decided what you are going to wear to the show? I know you have several possibilities. Why don’t you show them to me?”

  “Okay. Come back here. They’re on the last rack in the back. I really appreciate that Logan loaned me this work space. I am still not comfortable going back to my studio. The thought of being there alone at night after those guys were in there creeps me out.”

  “Thank God these clothes weren’t at the studio when Louis Capriccio or his men paid their midnight visit. That would have been a disaster.”

  “He did send me a check for the damages as promised. I was totally amazed.” Pansy led the way to the last rack. She pulled off the dust cloth protecting the clothes. “I’ve got the outfits in order with my favorite first.” The first outfit on the rack was a cappuccino-colored crushed linen dress with a loose, flowing, dark coffee-colored cowl-neck jacket that was belted with a cocoa suede obi-style belt. “I think I like this one the best. Then there’s the black silk cocktail suit with red high heels. Too formal for an afternoon show, I think. Another possibility is this ankle-length, sort of artsy bark cloth hand-printed bohemian-looking dress. I’d wear that with huge, carved wooden beads.”