JennasConsent

by Jennifer Kacey

  “Yes, Sir,” passed her lips before her brain could function past the need now clawing to get out. She was wet, swollen in all the right places and saying yes was what she did best.

  He ran his tongue along the skin under her ear and his cock, still concealed behind his suit jacket, brushed her abdomen. Her mouth went dry in anticipation of him sliding inside.

  She ached to reach for him, to tuck her body against his and get warm, so she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands instead.

  Sex.

  That’s all she needed from him.

  Nothing more.

  She needed him to fuck her something hardcore-porn-style with rope and leather and kinky toys—oh my.

  Everything else inside her sighed as he palmed the side of her cheek. Her emotions could suck it.

  “So tense,” he whispered in her ear. He circled behind her, squeezing her bare shoulders and she barely pushed the mute button on her vocal cords before a massive sigh slipped out.

  She relaxed though, her hands unclenching, and goose bumps ran down her arms like little Olympic medalists in the hundred-yard dash. His thick fingers chased the goose bumps away and warmth settled between her legs.

  He didn’t comment about her reaction to him but he noticed it. He noticed everything apparently.

  How in the world had she gotten him so wrong? He’d been so aloof, even going so far as to act bored when he’d played with some of the other club subs.

  She’s expected the same lack of attention to be directed at her. It was one of the reasons she’d finally given in and said yes.

  His focus threw her off, making her doubt her resolve for a moment and she touched his waist.

  “Want to tell me why you look so scared all of a sudden?”

  Instantly, she schooled her features into a mask of ho-hum and snatched her hands away. She laced her fingers behind her, wasting time so she could stop herself from shrieking at him that she didn’t want to submit to him anymore.

  Concentration seemed to fail her but she finally found the two words she needed. “No, Sir.”

  He nodded and stared at her. “By the end of the month you’ll trust me with more than just your physical submission.”

  “Over my dead body, Casanova.” It was out before she could call it back. And she not only sassed him but she leaned forward, crowding his space as she basically snarled her derision in his face.

  His lips curled upward, revealing a twinkle in his eye and she knew she’d really stepped in it. “This ain’t my first rodeo, you little rope slut.”

  Jenna’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth a few times, but sure as shit nothing came out. Only one person at the club knew how deep her love for rope went and the whys of it. Her best friend Skye. Jenna knew she’d never go blabbing about her. So how did he know?

  Who else knew?

  It was her private pain and she didn’t need anyone else poking their nose—

  His mouth covered hers and he tugged her face higher as he closed the miniscule distance between them. He didn’t devour her, didn’t force her mouth open and dive in, even though he could have since she’d already agreed to his terms.

  No.

  He pressed a closed mouth kiss to her lips, simply holding her to him. He kissed her cheeks and her nose, brushing his lips across her forehead.

  “You’re good at covering the rope marks, Jenna, but not that good. You can’t hide that from me. I know you. Not all of you but a fuck-load more than you think I do. You let your guard down sometimes when nobody else is looking but I watch you. I see you. I haven’t figured out who you’re getting rope from yet but I will. You’re going to tell me, when you trust me.”

  She stared at him, watching his mouth move as he spoke, wanting him to kiss her again, and needing to run as far and as fast from him as her five-inch stilettos would carry her.

  Thankfulness swamped her that she didn’t already know her safe word with him because she probably would have whipped it out right then and there.

  Talk about the mighty falling.

  She helped prep the submissives upstairs, helped calm them, seduce them, and encourage them to face their fears and find what lived inside them that they’d been hiding from everyone. Evidently she hadn’t been listening nearly well enough to her little pep talks.

  He’d kissed her.

  Once.

  And emotions swamped her, threatening to bury her in the wake of the man who was Nick Love.

  Love.

  What a crock of shit.

  Love held someone’s heart. Then it squeezed the life out of it until it never beat the same.

  She didn’t have time for that, nor the little tête-a-tête Nick was convinced they needed to have in the main bar room, with half of the members of The Library trying to act like they weren’t listening to every fucking word.

  Her inhalation made her want to lick him. Damn he smelled good. She wrinkled her nose, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he’d gotten to her even a little bit.

  Did he slap the look of disgust off her face like some dominants would have?

  No.

  Did he turn her around, shove her over a barstool and tan her ass?

  No.

  Those things, she could have born, tolerated and gotten off on at least before burying the emotions rising to the surface inside her.

  Instead he gathered her to his chest and simply held her.

  Traitorous tears filled her eyes and she did what any other girl would do. She got pissed off.

  She stood there, arms at her sides as if she were strapped to a two-by-four and couldn’t move at all. She craved his simple hug more than her next breath. But she couldn’t just lean into it. Accept it. Accept him or her need for it. Instead it made her spine stiffen further as he ran his hands over the laces at the back of her corset. Sooner or later he had to get the message that she was not into the huggy cuddly crap he was bestowing on her.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Jenna. I’m not walking away. Nor am I going to let you keep punishing yourself for things that are out of your control.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him where to shove his self-help bullshit but he covered her lips with his finger, raising an eyebrow in question.

  She wasn’t a brat.

  Getting his attention in a negative manner was not what she wanted but for some reason she couldn’t seem to help herself.

  So why on God’s green Earth was she acting so badly?

  She never acted like that with Ian—

  Fuck.

  A.

  Duck.

  As if she needed Ian to make a mental appearance with Nick so close. So observant. Just thinking of Ian made her feel like a neon sign had just lit up on her cognitive freeway. What did it flash on and off?

  Construction zone. Next 500 miles closed.

  She lowered her lashes and tried to dip her head to hide.

  Nick trapped her wrists behind her and grabbed a handful of her hair, making her eyes fly open. He whipped her over to an open space in the wall, trapping her body between it and him. She would have slammed into the concrete surface if it hadn’t been for his hands protecting her.

  He yanked her hair down, forcing her focus up to his face.

  There he was. No more than two inches from her nose, staring down at her.

  She could feel her pulse beating frantically everywhere he touched her. Her body sang a sweet melody for him and she wanted to hate him for it.

  “Punishment number two. Eyes on me. Always. Understand?”

  She nodded once, though she couldn’t move her head very far.

  To her complete astonishment, when she blinked a tear fell onto her cheek and rolled toward her jaw.

  His attention flashed to it and back up to her eyes. His grip loosened on her hair and he simply wiped the moisture away with his thumb, and then continued talking as if it hadn’t happened.

  “I have a late meeting with the head of security tonight right when the club
closes at two. You will meet me in my playroom at three. That should give us both enough time to get our shit taken care of so we can talk.” He glanced around the bar and several people tucked their heads or ran hands through their hair, as if anyone believed they weren’t eavesdropping. “We need to continue this in private.”

  Compartmentalization was something she excelled at, so she shoved all her fears into a big box in her head labeled Fuck It. She’d been curious about the new security company for months. The twins had hired someone who came highly recommended and she was glad the mystery of the new guy was soon to be put to rest.

  Nick’s voice rumbled through her, into her. He drew her attention back to him. Especially where he’d shoved his thigh between her legs, rubbing her pussy.

  How had she missed that?

  “Who’s the new guy? I know Jared and Chris hired some bigwig to come in and protect this place but they’re being really secretive about it.”

  Casanova shrugged, acting like he wasn’t forcing her to hump his leg for the world to see. “I don’t know much about him yet. Bryan something or other. This will be our first official meet and greet. Seems thorough. A bit standoffish but that seems to be modus operandi in most cases. He came highly recommended by several people. One person C and J really respect in the lifestyle.”

  Abruptly his eyes changed as he stared down at her again. “Tonight, after work, you and I are going to sit down so we can go over the rules.”

  Her heart ping-ponged down to her stomach after he said the words she knew were coming. Dread filled her. She could kiss the Olympic-size orgasm she’d been fantasizing about for the last few weeks goodbye.

  “Being honest, Jenna, it’s the only way this is going to work.”

  Nothing could have made her heart sink faster, since it was the one thing she couldn’t ever do. Not ever again. She’d learned her lesson with Ian.

  He’d etched it into her skull. What she wanted was dirty.

  But she liked dirty. She wanted to be used and objectified. Over the years instead of turning a ménage into something to shy away from, his rejection had had the opposite effect.

  Being fucked by two men, two dominant men at the same time, had remained her most desired fantasy. But it wasn’t a simply fantasy anymore. The need for it crawled through her brain all the time, especially since The Library had a knack of bringing in poly relationships.

  Therein lay the rub.

  For other people it was fine. More than fine but for her it was different.

  It could never work out because of Ian.

  Nick glanced across the bar, tilting his head at someone.

  He released her hands. Then stood and rubbed her arms. She didn’t think he did it because she needed it. Instead he touched her simply because he could.

  “Three. In my playroom.”

  Words had failed her several realizations ago, so she simply inclined her head at him.

  She was a sub that wanted, needed to please her Sir. A dominant man capable of great harm if he didn’t know what he was doing. Someone that had her actual life in his hands, depending on how severe the scenes became. These were men who were possessive and didn’t share well with others. Men who wanted to put a collar around a woman’s neck the moment she said yes, and then everything she wanted evaporated with the first strike of his whip.

  She loved that about them and hated that about them.

  An invisible mask settled across her face again without much effort. It was her second skin. She was rarely without it anymore and Nick was no different.

  He talked a good game, said all the right things now but that would change.

  Honesty.

  Sounded great and open and super-duper.

  The problem?

  What she wanted—needed—was to be shared.

  And she would never let him know that.

  She’d been a sub without someone to truly serve for years.

  An orphan.

  All of her family was dead and buried alongside her heart.

  She had friends. Great ones. Three of them were crowded at a table not twenty feet away. Looked as if they were chomping at the bit to come to her rescue but they knew her well enough to know she didn’t need a knight—nor maidens—in shining armor.

  She could flirt with them and have sex with them. Could cuddle and talk ’til four in the morning…

  But they weren’t enough anymore.

  Nor was one man.

  One man would never be enough.

  For thirty days it would have to be and hopefully she could fuck Nick Love out of her system.

  He’d crawled under her façade, flirting, touching and dancing around their attraction for weeks. She had an itch that needed to be scratched.

  Nothing more.

  And the dreams of Ian tying her? Well they could just take a flying leap for all she cared.

  Rope.

  Energy sizzled between them at the mere thought of Nick tying her. His hands on her. Binding her. Seducing her with his control, his pain.

  Damn, she wished he tied.

  Her muscles relaxed, her pussy wept and she wanted nothing more than to fall to her knees at his feet and beg him to take her right there.

  His gray eyes saw too much.

  He took her hand and flipped it over, placing it over the thick bulge trapped behind his expensive suit. “I’ve had a hard-on for you since the day I started working here.” He brought his other arm up, leaning his forearm on the wall next to her head, caging them in to a semi-private square foot. “I’ve dreamed of feeling your lips on me.” He pressed her hand harder against his thick cock, then dragged it up past his belt and hard abdomen. He didn’t stop until her hand rested over his heart. “Tonight can’t fucking pass fast enough.” He touched his nose to hers and then strode away.

  She followed his back, his wide shoulders, as he headed for the hallway on the opposite side of the bar. Another man stood there waiting for him. He was probably the new guy but Jenna couldn’t have given a shit.

  She caught part of his profile but then Nick turned around and winked at her and her brain clicked over to “occupied”. Nick rounded the corner and all of the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding—for like the last millennium—wheezed out of her.

  Gentle hands eased her down and her butt connected with a chair she didn’t remember seeing before. She leaned sideways and stared at it for a minute as if it held the secrets to the universe.

  But it was just a chair.

  She blinked, trying desperately to clear her brain but it was almost like someone had turned on one of those foggers in her head. The kind that gets rid of bugs and covers everything else with goo.

  She clutched two hands, as they suddenly appeared in her grasp.

  After some extra convincing from her brain she finally looked up and there were her girls.

  There was her best friend, Skye, with her deep-red hair and uniform of jeans and a funny T-shirt. Jenna had to focus on the words but it read, Finding friends with the same mental disorder as you—Priceless.

  The Library’s owners’ submissive, Cyn, stood beside her with a worried expression. She was dressed like the sexiest librarian ever with a yellow blouse and a gray skirt that hugged every curve. Long blonde hair in a ponytail trailed over her shoulder almost to her slim waist.

  And the little pixie clutching Jenna’s other hand was Haleigh, the newest member of their kinky group of girls.

  Each stood with her, giving her support when she desperately needed it.

  Jenna was always the voice of reason and encouragement. Even she couldn’t pull an explanation of what the fuck just happened with Nick out of her ass.

  Cyn was the first to speak. “Pretty sure we need to find a table and convince Oscar to leave us a few shot glasses and a full bottle of tequila. Then we can move to one of the rooms downstairs once we get a little bit of liquor in you.”

  “But I have to work,” Jenna very helpfully pointed out even though she cou
ldn’t remember anything other than the hot feel of Nick’s cock beneath her hand and that she effectively belonged to him for thirty days.

  “No worries. Looks like you have a bit on your mind at the moment and a hell of a lot you’ve been holding out on us. I’ve cleared your schedule for the next hour and a half. It’s one of the perks of sleeping with the owners.” Cyn waggled her eyebrows.

  Skye snorted and Haleigh giggled, squeezing Jenna’s hand.

  “I’m so fucked,” Jenna admitted.

  “About damn time,” Oscar offered as he came out from behind the bar and handed her a glass of something with a cherry on top.

  It looked like pineapple juice and smelled like the punch bowl at every college party she’d ever been to.

  “What’s this?” She eyed it as if it had roofies in it. Damn. Her libido did not need any help at the moment. They were already going to have to dry clean the chair after she stood up.

  “It’s called The Leg Spreader.”

  “No fucking way,” Skye accused as she leaned in closer to take a look.

  Oscar’s smile lit up the room and everyone laughed but Jenna.

  Too bad he batted for the other team. She’d have snagged him in no time if he’d been straight. She took a sip and the alcohol hit her like a one-two punch.

  “Good, huh?” he asked but he already knew it was. That man was a genius behind the bar.

  “Mmmmm,” was all Jenna got out as she took a larger sip.

  “Strike the tequila bottle,” Cyn told him as she tugged Jenna up and headed her toward a booth in the back. “One for each of us, my lovely friend. We’ll put the name of the drink to the test and see if it can live up to our…expectations, by the time the sun comes up.”

  “I said yes to Nick. I said yes to him. To Nick.” The reality of the situation she now found herself bound and gagged in came crashing down on her head. “I don’t even know where to start with explaining all of this.”

  Skye laughed behind her, walking arm in arm with Haleigh. “The drink’s guaranteed to work for Jenna tonight.”

  All of the girls laughed and Jenna smirked, thinking it would be mighty funny if it were happening to anybody other than herself. She took another drink as they all settled into the open booth. “Bitches.”