‘I’m sure you could find a way to make that happen,’ he said. His tone was light, but the way he was looking at me added far more meaning to his words. I was suddenly aware that I was in a tiny room with a gorgeously hot man and shelf upon shelf full of books about sex.
The sexual tension in the room was so strong it almost made me want to talk about how I’d screwed up at the Cat House. Almost.
‘So, what do I need to do?’ I asked.
‘Well, first you strip naked,’ he said.
‘I mean about what happened at the Cat House. I’m really sorry for how that turned out. I’m also sorry for doubting you. I don’t think I actually believed you about the sex club. I thought I knew everything about this part of town.’
Davian closed the book and set it on the table next to the chair. Webster shifted on his lap with a small meow of protest.
‘I don’t know that you can fix it,’ Davian said. ‘You didn’t just fail the initiation, you made something of a ruckus. If anyone in that room didn’t notice you, they were utterly blind.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. My cheeks went hot and pink, and I lowered my head, trying to hide my reaction. ‘I didn’t realise that she’d want me to go on stage. I have –’
‘Stage fright?’
‘No.’ I fumbled for words. How to describe what was happening to me when I thought of being in front of people, especially in a sexual context? Sure, it was part fear, but it was something else as well. Something about my introverted self, about being seen. There was something about the danger that I both shied away from and, inexplicably, craved. I didn’t have the words to explain it, so I just shook my head.
‘Either way,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.’
He stroked Webster’s head while he talked, the soft space between the cat’s ears, and then under his chin, until Webster was purring so loudly the sound seemed to fill the whole room. I knew the feeling; I ached for Davian to touch me like that, to stroke me until I responded with audible sounds of pure pleasure.
‘I can try again,’ I said. ‘I’ll say yes next time.’
‘There is no next time,’ he said. ‘Kitty chose you and you refused in front of everyone. That’s the only way into the club.’
‘I’ll find another way,’ I said. I was about to tell him about the blonde woman and the door, but realised I hadn’t found a way into that either.
I wasn’t sure why I was fighting so hard for this. Yes, we needed the money, but it was more than that. Something inside me needed this. And I was starting to think that something inside me needed Davian.
I knelt at his feet, realising too late that I was creating the picture that I’d had in my mind when I’d walked in. Minus the naked part. He clearly caught it too, tilting his head to watch me go down.
‘Help me,’ I said. ‘Help me do this.’
He lifted his hand from Webster’s chin, slipped it under my own. The pads of his fingers pushed upward, bringing my chin up so that our gazes met. The heat of his fingers made my insides warm and melty. I really was like chocolate in his warm hands.
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘I … don’t know. It feels like something I should do.’ There was no way to explain it more clearly than that.
The pause between us was long and filled with heat. Sexual, and something else. I could feel things trembling on the edge of whatever thin line was between us. If they went one way, this job, this opportunity, this man would be gone from my life, tumbling over a cliff too steep for me to follow. If they went the other way, I wouldn’t be any less in danger, but at least we would all go over the edge together.
‘There is an event coming up,’ he said. ‘We might be able to get you in as a guest. But you’d have to practise. And really be willing to go all the way.’
I felt a million questions rise in me, but I didn’t trust my tongue to work properly. It felt alive and bee-stung. My heart did a silly half-beat of joy and fear in my chest. I took a deep breath, the scent of him filling my nose. It was heady, the warm cinnamon and dark wood that rolled off his skin. Someday, when this was all over, I’d find a candle that smelled like him, and I’d hoard it the way that old single people hoarded cats. Or, well, the way that I already hoarded books.
In the meantime, I had to get over my fear. He knew it. I knew it. I flipped my mental rolodex for a female character to use as inspiration, but found myself coming up empty. Either I didn’t read enough erotica or the heroines weren’t particularly memorable. I’d have to do this on my own.
‘We can practise here,’ I said. ‘After we close.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘You can’t practise getting naked and …’ He leaned in, trailing two fingers along the top of my thigh, right at the spot that made me shiver. His fingers lingered there, pressing softly, easing inward. My thighs parted instinctively to his touch. ‘… letting me do this in front of people if there aren’t any people.’
‘Yes,’ I said, as much to his touch as to his words.
‘So,’ he said.
‘So,’ I said. He was waiting for something from me, but his fingers, promising, teasing, were edging under my short skirt, slipping slowly along the heat of my inner thigh. I didn’t push myself into his touch, although part of me wanted to. I closed my eyes and stayed still, waiting to see if his fingers would deliver on their promise of pleasure.
They stopped just short of the laced edge of my stockings. He tugged some of the fabric sideways, a minuscule movement, the slightest shift, but I felt it all the way to my teeth. My pussy tightened in want, and a groan – desire, a lament for what I didn’t already have – slipped from my mouth.
‘Janine,’ he said. Firm but distant. Like his fingers.
‘Hmm?’
‘No more until we get public.’
‘But … but it feels so good.’
‘Janine.’ Firmer. His fingers leaving me. Another groan.
I opened my eyes at him. He had his mostly serious face on. Mouth set, his gaze firm on my face. Sometimes, I was learning, I could sway him my way. Distract him, tease him, get him to put his other plans aside to fuck me. But not this time. And, oh, how I wanted what he was offering. Yes, even if it meant something public. Even if the thought of the word made my heart hammer in my chest.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Yes. But let’s do it now.’ Before I change my mind, I wanted to say. Now, while my clit was still beating its sweet little pulse of want.
‘I know just the place,’ he said. ‘Get your coat.’
With my heart beating its song of want in my chest and my clit doing the same between my legs, what could I do but say yes?
* * *
‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘The store…’
‘Lily has it under control,’ he said. ‘She’s good like that.’
As if in a trance, I got my coat. As Davian and I walked out, I felt nothing but the presence of his body next to me and the wet heat between my thighs that seemed to intensify with every step.
I watched him walking next to me, that long confident stride, hands tucked loosely into the pockets of his wool coat. He cast his gaze sideways, caught my eye. His brow arched slightly, but he didn’t say anything.
I stopped looking at him and started looking at where we were. The big black and purple building stood in front of us, its window displays filled with curvy mannequins in leather outfits, whips and toys in their moulded hands. Everything became real in that second.
‘L&L?’ I asked. ‘Oh, no. No. No. No.’
His eyes narrowed just a little at my response, and then he started laughing.
‘What’s so damn funny?’ I tried to inch backwards from the front of the building, as though he wouldn’t notice when I suddenly broke into a frantic, fearful run in the other direction. Fight or flight, baby. I was a flighter all the way.
‘Nothing at all,’ he said. ‘I should have known you’d know this place. Little voyeur like you.’
He caught the ends of my hai
r in his fist, held me captive. It wasn’t just his grip in my hair that held me in place. It was the drop in his voice, that deep confidence that slid in, a timbre that seemed to vibrate at the same speed as my arousal. His golden eyes scanned my face, a quirk of a smile crossing his lips.
‘I should have known you’d like to watch,’ he murmured, his voice low. ‘You like being all safe in the dark, while everybody undresses for you, sitting there touching yourself. You get off on that, don’t you?’
Was that a question I was supposed to answer? It seemed so obvious that it didn’t require a response. Not to mention that with him talking to me like that, I could barely think of what I was supposed to say, much less make my mouth do the thing it needed to do to form words.
He tugged my hair, pulling my head back to force a gasp from my lips.
‘Well? Yes or no?’
‘Yes,’ I said, not even entirely sure what I was saying yes to.
‘Yes, what?’ he asked. ‘What do you do to get off, Janine?’
I knew what he wanted me to say, and I remembered the thrill of saying it in my dream, of voicing my secret desires into his ear. It had been a revelation to me, how hot it was to say the words, and to watch Davian react to them.
But it wasn’t a dream this time. We were in public, standing on the street, Davian looming over me, leaning in. He still had his fist tight in my hair, tilting my head back so that I could only look up at him, at his face. I had the sense that people were near, walking by us on their way to far less deviant things, but I couldn’t see them. I could only see the dark spark in his gaze, the edges of his teeth, as he asked me again.
‘I …’ I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t stand here in public and say what he wanted me to say. I couldn’t get naked in front of strangers. No matter how much I wanted him – and oh, fuck, I didn’t know that I’d ever wanted anything more – I couldn’t bring myself to do it. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’
He didn’t change his stance or his expression. His grip on my hair relaxed slightly, allowing me control of my head. I dropped my gaze to the ground, the prickled heat of my cheeks making me feel like I’d been crying.
‘Janine.’ I heard him say my name, but I didn’t look up. Why was it always so easy for me to say no, even to the things I really wanted? Now I did feel tears threatening, their stinging arrival at the corners of my eyes. I blinked them back, refusing to give in.
When he leaned in this time, he came at me soft, as though he’d loosened his body to mould around mine. His mouth found the corner of my ear. As he brushed his lips along my skin, he talked to me.
‘You can absolutely say no at any point. Now. Later. It doesn’t change anything if you say no. Not. One. Thing.’
He paused, his lips trailing the edge of my ear, allowing me to think about that for a moment.
‘But if you want to, we can do it together, you and me. I’ll help you. I promise I will keep you safe. So you get to decide: do you want to do this?’
I tried to breathe, to hear something beyond the thumping of my pulse in my ears. Did I want to do this? Yes. And no.
Actually. Yes. Unequivocally. But I was scared. Of what, I couldn’t say exactly.
I grew less afraid the longer we stood there, his breath on my skin, his quiet words bouncing around in my brain. I could say no. And all this fear would go away.
And on the heels of that thought: but so would the arousal. It wasn’t just fear that made my pulse thrum under my skin, that tightened my breath at the thought of being in front of people. I did want to do this, and I wanted to do it with Davian. Oddly, I trusted him.
Surprising myself, I turned my head, pulling against his grip in my hair to find his mouth. His lips pressed chilled to mine, but the inside of his mouth was deliciously warm. His teeth caught my tongue, raked them gently. My shiver wasn’t due to the cold.
He pulled back, licking my lips in the letting go.
‘I guess that’s a yes,’ he said.
CHAPTER 10
I hadn’t been to L&L since I’d thought I’d seen Davian here, cutting buttons off a woman’s dress while I masturbated furtively in the dark. I wanted to ask if that really was him, or if I’d been imagining him, but I was afraid of the answer. If I was obsessed enough to accidentally fantasise his face onto another man’s body, I didn’t want him to know about it. The memory of it gave me the shivers, me in the dark, the way he’d bent towards her, dragging his hands along her neck, the weight of the scissors as they’d cut through the threads.
They hadn’t fucked, but they hadn’t needed to; watching them play had been enough, more than enough, to get me off. What did that mean for me now? Was he going to make me watch him again? Or did he have something else planned?
I couldn’t read anything from his face as he led me towards the back, then up a small flight of stairs that I’d never noticed before. Through a red silk curtain, a woman in a black dress was reading behind a small desk. She gave us a courtesy smile, which deepened into something real when she saw Davian. She had the kind of smile that you can see from across the room, straight white teeth and dimples so deep you could sink your fingers into them.
‘Well, hello, you,’ she said.
They hugged, and I took the chance to check her out. It was a habit I’d got into, mostly keeping an eye open for Lily. I wasn’t much of a matchmaker, but she’d been so damn unhappy lately. I kept hoping I’d accidentally run into her perfect woman. It could be at least one good side effect of this entire gig.
The woman hugging Davian – which was odd in itself, as I’d never seen him hug anyone, and was surprised at the relaxed ease with which he moved into her embrace – was almost exactly his height. Long straight black hair fell down her back, almost to her butt. But it was good long hair, the kind that’s obviously had care taken of it, and because it matched her dress perfectly it gave her a sleek, otherworldly look.
Pulling back, she shifted her attention to me. Her gaze was a moss green that washed over me slowly before she nodded her approval.
‘Want to go in?’ she asked Davian. ‘Ericka and Troy are just finishing. Should just be a couple of minutes for clean-up.’
Davian caught my eye, a brow lifted in question. Despite myself, I nodded.
‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘That will give us a few minutes to get ready.’
‘Room B is all yours.’
He nodded thanks, touching her shoulder softly as we walked by her, down the long hall. I wondered what their history was. Had he cut the buttons off her dress? More? I didn’t feel jealous, thinking about him with her, but hot. All of these women, seemingly smart, together, sexual women, trusted him to take them places they couldn’t go on their own. Why shouldn’t I trust him too?
Room B was tiny, a loveseat, a couple of mirrors and a hanging closet full of outfits. One wall was covered with hanging floggers, leather cuffs and other toys. Beneath that, a table held a variety of disinfectants, lubes and condoms. I’d never thought about what happened behind the scenes here. I just assumed couples walked in and entered the centre space in much the same way as I walked in and entered a booth. Clearly, that wasn’t the case at all. It was all very organised, and smelled faintly of disinfectant.
‘This isn’t very sexy, is it?’ I asked. I picked up a bottle of toy cleaner and sniffed it.
‘I guess not,’ he said. ‘I suppose we should just call it quits and forget about it.’
It wasn’t until I glanced at the mirror that I saw his expression, how the low smoulder of his gaze belied his words. He came forwards, towards me in the mirror, until I could feel the full press of his body against the back of me. The touch was so light that I had to stay incredibly still in order to feel it, but it was there. Warmth and heat, and a firmness that made me tremble. His scent spilled over, erasing everything else. In the mirror, his reversed face was lifted, his caramel gaze so full of want and heat that I was afraid to turn around and look at him full on, afraid that I wouldn’t see the same desire
in his eyes.
‘Point,’ I said. The word stuck in my throat, the edges of it, and I tried to swallow away the want that rose and blocked my breath. He backed away, leaving the back of me cold.
‘Do you want to change?’ he asked.
Change? I hadn’t thought about it. I was trying not to think about it at all.
I eyed my outfit in the mirror. ‘Should I?’
He didn’t even hesitate. ‘No,’ he said.
I heard the sound of a drawer sliding open and turned to look. He was pulling a pair of scissors, what looked like the same pair of scissors, from its depths.
‘I have plans for that outfit of yours,’ he said.
* * *
Stepping into a room without walls is harder than it seems. Walking into the centre room at L&L reminded me of the one time I’d walked across a transparent glass floor. While other people had been able to just step onto it, peering down at the people walking storeys below, I found myself stuck at the end, unable to take that first step. It was crowded, and I was holding people up, but none of that mattered. I knew in my rational brain that it wasn’t any less safe than walking across something that I couldn’t see through, but I still couldn’t force myself to go forward. In the end, someone had jostled me, and I’d taken that first step by accident, swearing I was going to die even as I landed firmly on solid footing. I stood for a long time, breathing, my heart pounding, incredibly aware that I was still alive. After that, I thought it would get easier, that each step would be a movement towards less fear. That turned out not to be true. Every step was just as scary as the first; if I could have gone back, run to the edge, I would have. But the crowd was shuffling forward, carrying me along with it.
That’s how I felt the second I stepped into L&L’s centre room. I couldn’t see the people on the other sides of the walls, but I knew they were there. Not seeing anything in this case was somehow the exact same as seeing too much had been with the glass floor. My pulse went boom inside my wrists. My head went light and fuzzy, and there were dark shadows at the edges of my vision.
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