Twisted Little Games - Book 2 (Little Games Duet)

by Dee Palmer

  When I stepped back, the draw was still there. Like a tangible field of sexual tension radiating around our bodies. The ceremony finished, and the guests were being ushered along the corridor into a makeshift reception room, and that’s when, as the last to leave, Jason dragged me into a room I hadn’t even noticed. That would be because it wasn’t a room as such, it was a large storage cupboard…with a lockable door. I didn’t get a moment to protest, not that I would have, but instantly, his mouth was on mine, his hands frantic at the tiny buttons on my blouse. My palms first flat on the firm curve of his chest muscles, swept down to his belt, and with deft fingers, I quickly had his trousers dropped to his thick, taut thighs. Frustrated with his slow progress, he growled and tugged at the bottom of the material, lifting the blouse over my head. He froze for a moment at the sight of my frantic attempts to draw in more air. I don’t ever remember feeling so out of control, so wild and needy. My breasts rose and shook with the effort, smooth mounds barely contained by the delicate ivory lace balcony bra. My nipples were taut peaks, aching for his touch, and my skin glowed with the sheen of perspiration.

  “Are you a screamer?” Jason’s deep tone was hoarse and breathy.

  “I’m not usually the one who screams…no.” I exhaled and Jason’s lips tip into a wicked understanding.

  “So I don’t need to gag you?” He raised a brow and my eyes dropped to the slow draw of his tongue across his soft, full lips.

  “I’d like to see you try.” I slapped his chest forcefully.

  “That makes two of us.” He growled and pushed roughly against me. Hard enough that he was flush against me grinding his solid length against my soft centre.

  “In your dreams, Jason,” I scoffed with arrogance and understanding. He knew what I was and he knew this would be different, but it was still on my terms. At least I thought it was. I pushed back and ground against him. We both drew in ragged breaths. “No gag.” I confirmed and moaned as Jason grabbed my breasts, cupped and squeezed them with his large hands, his fingers finding the hardened peaks and pinching to the point of and just beyond pain.

  “Ah!” I gasped.

  “No gag…are you quite sure?” His wolfish grin and arrogant tone set the challenge.

  “You wish!” I bit back with confidence. I promised myself I was not going to make a sound. Dominant Jason Sinclair…King of the club had met his match.

  “That I do.” He pinched my nipples to punctuate his declaration and I blinked rapidly in lieu of the cry at the back of my throat. My lips spread into a salacious smile once the pain ebbed and I pulled him by the tie and crushed my lips to his. The moan that escaped his chest was almost as loud as the cry I suppressed.

  Now

  “Yes…the wedding. What is it about weddings?” he muses.

  “I’m not sure it had anything to do with it being a wedding.” I laugh lightly.

  “No…You might be right. It had much more to do with you looking hot as hell, a convenient storage cupboard and a lockable door.” He tips his glass and nods for a refill. I do the same, suddenly feeling like I need the liquid courage to play with the inferno sitting next to me. “After though…You didn’t return my call.” His gaze darkens.

  “That would be because there would have been no point.” I quickly down the sweet coffee liqueur and mouth a large ice cube. I take my time playing with it in my mouth, relishing the effect I am now having on the implacable Mr Sinclair. He swallows thickly, his eyes never leaving my mouth. I know I am playing with fire, but it feels so good.

  “And why is that?” His casual tone betrays the heat in his eyes and the intensity of his glare. “Did you not have fun? Because I seem to recall you had a great deal of it.” He leans forward and pushes his hands between my legs and grabs the edge of the bar stool. My legs spread of their own volition just enough before I try to rectify the error. Clamping tight against his wrist, he pulls my seat closer to him. His muscular thighs trap me, his hand wedged between my legs. Heavy lidded eyes bore into me with a fierceness that burns through my veins like wildfire, his thumb languidly stroking my inner thigh.

  I take a moment and relish the utter pleasure these strange erotic feelings coursing through me evoke. My heart is beating a hypnotic pattern in my chest, hard and fierce. I am acutely aware as the precarious balance of control I hold so dear begins to slip. I feel the shift like a physical change and it is alarmingly seductive how natural it feels to give over to someone as absolutely dominant as Jason. It’s too seductive. I raise a brow, my calm façade a mask to my traitorous emotions. I use the tips of my fingers to remove the remaining ice cube from my glass, quickly palm it, and stretch out to hold it flat and hard against Jason’s rock solid erection. The ice water soaks his trousers but doesn’t diminish the heat in my palm one bit.

  “Fuck, Sam!” he barks out but doesn’t move. If anything he grinds into my hand and releases a deep moan. I can’t help laughing; that was not the reaction I was anticipating but then I should’ve known he wasn’t likely to run. He was much more likely to rise to the challenge he obviously thinks I am.

  “Jason.” I sigh reluctantly removing my hand. “Two Doms don’t make a right. We would not play well together. The wedding was an exception. I will give you that it was an amazing exception but—”

  “But nothing.” He growls his interruption.

  “See, that’s exactly why I didn’t return your call. I’m not one of your little submissives, and you sure as shit aren’t going to kneel for me anytime soon…although…” My index finger lightly taps my lips, which carve a wicked grin at the very notion.

  “Yeah, keep dreaming beautiful, because that is all that’s ever going to be.” He sniffs derisively, but his eyes narrow while he slowly sips his drink. “But you weren’t always a Domme Selina?” His serious tone and leading question instantly kills my flirtatious mood.

  “Oh, you have been busy.” I straighten myself creating a cool, noticeable distance.

  “Daniel was just as much my wingman as I was his before he met Bethany, and you know that. I’m not being intrusive; I am stating a fact. You weren’t always a Domme.” His dismissive tone is doing little to calm my irritation.

  “I doubt Daniel would’ve disclosed any details, but if he did, he would’ve informed you it was one time and it was the very last part of my training. My instructor insisted I understand both ends of the whip as it were.” I clarify stiffly.

  “Quite right, too.” He nods in agreement.

  “But that doesn’t make me a sub, Jason.”

  “No, Samantha, it doesn’t, but you enjoyed it, so that does, in fact, make you a switch.” His gaze seems to sear right through me with fire and so much desire I’m starting to melt. What exactly I am struggling with? Is it that I actually like the turn this conversation has taken? No…I can’t… I won’t let it go there.

  “Not necessarily but your point is what exactly?” My attempt at annoyance seems to amuse him. He moves his hand from his drink to lightly pinch my chin making sure he holds my full attention. Not that I could look anywhere else…not that I’d want to.

  “My point, Selina, is that I want you to switch for me.” His lethal glare scorches my breath from my lungs as I let out an inaudible gasp. “So tell me, Selina, what is it going to take?” His assured cockiness is interrupted by my incredulous laugh.

  “Oh, Jason, that is sweet, and I’m flattered, really I am.” His instant scowl darkens at my flippancy and condescending tone.

  “What is it about me that you think is sweet exactly? Do I look like a man who doesn’t get everything he wants?” He slips his hand around the back of my head and grabs a tight hold of my long, sleek ponytail. I don’t flinch but my heart does feel like it is trying to beat its way through my chest.

  “Do I?” I retort and hold his fiery gaze.

  “Damn-it, Selina, you most definitely do not look like a man.” He laughs out, then his lips quickly bite back a grin. “Give me one day.” He pauses to let the words sink in bu
t the evident confusion must be etched on my face because it makes him clarify further. “Give me one day to change your mind. Spend the whole day with me and if I can’t convince you to submit to me…then…”

  “Then?” I tip my chin for his answer but my movement is still restricted by his hold.

  “Then it will be the first time I do not get what I want.” He grumbles, and I laugh loudly shaking free from his grip.

  “And if I do agree to submit… it will be a miracle.” I taunt.

  He stands, stepping into my personal space, putting pressure enough to widen my legs to accommodate him just that little bit closer. “I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning.” He leans down, his words kiss my neck like a tempting promise.

  “Tomorrow? It’s Christmas Day.” I sag a little when he moves away, fighting the moan at the sudden loss of heat.

  “Perfect day for a miracle.” He pauses at the doorway, holding my gaze for long seconds before stepping through the curtain leaving me a mess of heat and confusion.

  “What the fuck! You scared the crap out of me, Daniel! What are you doing here?” The door to my office swings open, and apart from the night security guard, I thought the whole office block was empty. As it should be this late on Christmas Eve.

  “I am going to ask you the very same question. You are going to make me feel like Ebenezer if you tell me you are working.” He flicks the main light on because I have been hunched over my laptop with just the glow of the screen to illuminate my office. I blink and rub my eyes at the instant bright light.

  “No, not working, just trying to find unobtainium. It’s proving a little tricky.” I slap the lid of my laptop shut and stretch my spine out with my knuckles, cracking a few pockets of air as I do. I feel the late hour now, and I am suddenly tired. Daniel strides into the room and walks straight to the shelf where I keep my best whiskey. He pours two fingers in each glass and hands me one. Taking the chair opposite, his face is impossible to read even after all these years of working as his number two. But his raised brow is indication enough that he is listening.

  “I got a second chance with Sam. Just one day…tomorrow. I don’t want to blow it but I have sort of left myself no time to actually sort anything special.” Daniel lets out a clipped laugh and sips his drink.

  “I wouldn’t waste your time.” He notices my back straighten, but waves his hand to stop my misunderstanding. “Back down, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant Sam, or more likely Selina, will have been to every fancy restaurant, gallery, concert…whatever in the city. You name it, she will have seen it all on the arm of one of her clients. I doubt she would consider anything like that special. What else have you got?” He swirls the amber liquid and fixes me with his intense boardroom stare. Usually I don’t have a problem with that particular look because, in a business setting, I am never without answers and solutions. In this instance, however, I have left myself absolutely no time. I have no solutions to my own problem. I hold both my hands up in surrender.

  “I’ve got nothing. I was planning to spend the morning at the Mission, Skype the family in the afternoon and then watch all the versions of A Christmas Carol on Netflix…Hardly earth shattering, heart stealing activities.” I take a large gulp and wince at the hit of alcohol. I let out a heavy sigh.

  “Is that your plan? You want to steal her heart?” His voice is level, and his face is again implacable. I’d hate him for that if I didn’t consider him one of my best friends.

  “She may have kicked me to the curb after the wedding, even when I knew there was something more. I felt it, and she sure as shit did, too. Maybe that’s why she ended it before…I don’t know. Whatever the reason, she shut me down. I’ve given her time, but it’s enough now. I know she still feels the same. You can cut the fucking sexual tension with a chainsaw when we’re in the same room and up until tonight we’ve never actually been alone. Tonight, I made my play. Had the whole Christmas miracle thing as my backdrop. She didn’t stand a chance. Anyway, it’s Christmas, and I promised to change her mind about us… if she’d give me one day.” His lips curl with a knowing smile, and I feel tension build at the bridge of my nose. “I know…I know…I may not have been thinking with my head…not entirely anyway…It’s Christmas Eve…everything is shut…I’m totally screwed.” I take another long draw of my drink.

  “You do know what she does for a living?” His tone almost sounds like a warning. I fire my own judgmental scowl at him. “Look, I’m not saying that to be an arsehole. I just want you to go into this with your eyes wide open.” He shrugs lightly, and I relax because any hint of judgment was clearly on my end.

  “I’m no fucking saint, Daniel. I own a sex club, and I didn’t buy any club, I bought the club where she works exclusively. So yes, I know what she does, and it doesn’t make the slightest difference to me.” I focus on the swirling liquid, a mix of gold and lightning bouncing off the cut crystal. I murmur more to myself. “There is something about her—”

  “Does she know you’re the sole owner of the club? Does she know why you bought it I mean?” He interrupts my musing.

  “She thinks I’m a part owner, and no…that might creep her out.” I have the decency to look a little sheepish. I definitely had my own selfish reasons for buying the club. For one, I could be there on a regular basis without looking like a manwhore. But, more importantly, as the owner, I was able to censor the membership list and, subsequently, Sam’s pool of potential clients. I also told myself at the time I just wanted to be close in case she needed my help. It took no time at all to realise that Selina could more than take care of herself, and I was kidding myself that she was any type of damsel in distress.

  “You want my advice? Be honest the first chance you get. One thing I do remember about Sam is she doesn’t like lies. In fact, from memory, she thinks all men are liars so you, my friend, are not off to a stellar start.” He grins.

  “Maybe not, but that makes two of us, and I am not technically lying” I sniff at the hypocrisy of my statement. “What else do you remember?” I pause, hoping my loaded question is heard loud and clear.

  “Hmm.” His brows knit together with unease. “You put me in rather an awkward position, Jason.” He narrows his eyes, but I hold his stare.

  “I know.” I raise my brow for him to continue. For him to answer my question.

  “Only because you are pursuing this as a relationship I will answer as my conscience allows. I was asked to complete Sam’s training. Her mentor believed in order to give pain one must understand pain.” He repeats what Sam had told him earlier. “I didn’t fuck her. That wasn’t the point of the session.”

  “What was the point? Or was it just about the pain?” I find myself leaning forward eager for the insight.

  “It was about pleasure,” he replies without inflection.

  “Did she enjoy it?” My jaw tenses at this, and I feel an angry heat burn in my chest. Stupid I know; it was a long time ago. Before I’d even moved to London, but the thought that someone else gave her pleasure through pain drives me a little crazy. That’s what I want…me and only me.

  “You would have to ask her that. I don’t believe she was disappointed with the outcome…” He pauses, but my stomach is already churning with distaste. “Honestly, I don’t think pleasure is what she took from it. She has too many barriers for one session, but then, the purpose wasn’t to train a sub. The purpose was for her to understand her role as a Domme, and that was an unmitigated success.” He switches back to my more urgent concern, effectively halting any further questions I might have that he is clearly not going to answer. “If you ask me you have solved your own problem. Take her with you tomorrow…be with her. Be with Sam not Selina. You want to be with her. She is never going to believe that if all your interactions are at the club. Show her you understand the difference.” He knocks back the remaining whiskey and places the glass on my desk. His words sink in with the same warmth the liquor is causing in my bloodstream. He is right. That’s perfe
ct. I leave my glass with the remaining finger of whiskey untouched.

  “When did you get so smart about women?” I stand and grab my jacket from the back of my chair.

  “Since I married an exceptional one.” His retort is deadpan, like I have asked the most ridiculous question.

  “Too bad it hasn’t rubbed off on you then…coming to work at eleven thirty on Christmas Eve—” I quip and switch the lights off as we both leave my office.

  “I dropped Bethany at Sofia’s family for midnight mass. I may have left her gift in my office safe.” He smiles and holds his hand out.

  “Fuck! That is a first. Good to see you’re just as fallible as the rest of us mortals.” I laugh and shake his hand before I turn to leave. “Merry Christmas. Send my love to Bethany,” I call to his retreating back.

  “Good luck tomorrow, Jason…you’re going to need it!” I almost miss the last part as the lift arrives with a loud ping, but I heard it…loud and clear.

  I arrive just before seven in the morning, and Sam instantly buzzes me up. I don’t generally get overly excited. I keep control of all things including my emotions but I would be lying if I didn’t acknowledge the anticipation I feel is causing a nice little buzz. I can’t believe I didn’t see the solution sooner. I think it was a case of forest for the trees, but once Daniel pointed it out, everything just fell into place, and I am more than happy to take it from here. She doesn’t stand a chance. My lips carve a wicked smile just as she opens her front door.

  She dressed in a loose fitted cashmere, long, scooped neck sweater with long sleeves. The sweater rests just mid-thigh. Her skinny leatherette leggings hug her curves and leave little to the imagination. She is holding a black leather jacket and is standing almost eye level with me in black ankle boots with killer heels. She is tall, five foot ten maybe, but she still has to lift her chin to meet my eyes. She looks a little flustered, her chest rises with little rapid breaths, and she has a flush to her flawless cheeks that just makes my balls ache. Her hair is long and loose, and falls in soft waves around her face. Her eyes are so dark they look almost black but are soft too, and are framed with the longest lashes I have ever seen. She doesn’t have a scrap of makeup on, and she is flawless.