“Yes, Sir.” He wasn’t too fast at all. In fact, she longed for more than he was giving her. But she wouldn’t ask for it. The idea shocked her and scared her at the same time.
Steve firmed his hold on her back and spanked her two more times at the juncture of her thighs and ass.
She flinched, a natural reflex, nothing more. Warmth spread up her back and down her thighs. It felt good.
“Your ass is so sexy like this, all pink.” Steve rubbed the skin with his palms, his thumbs grazing the undersides of her cheeks, making her stiffen as they got closer to her sex. She wasn’t ready for more than the spanking tonight. Sex was the farthest thing from her mind. It would take an entirely different level of subspace for her to submit sexually to a man.
Steve must have read the signs, because he backed off and resumed swatting her just enough to make her fully aware of his contact, but not enough to inflict any real pain.
Perfect.
Just what she needed for her first foray with a man. He wasn’t the firmest Dom, but he was educated enough to recognize her needs, especially her hesitation. And for that she was grateful.
Steve stroked her warm skin for several minutes, loosening his touch until he lowered her skirt over her butt and then rounded to face her again. “You okay?”
“I’m good. Thank you, Sir.”
“Thank you. I enjoyed our time.” He helped her off the bench and settled her on her feet, still holding her hand.
She wasn’t so deep into subspace that she couldn’t manage on her own.
“Perhaps we could do it again sometime?”
“Maybe.” She smiled at him, not wanting to commit to anything right then. She nodded toward the bar. “I’m going to get some water. Thanks again.”
“No problem.” Steve released her fingers as she walked away.
As soon as she stepped out of the alcove, she practically ran right into Carlton.
He grabbed her shoulders to steady her.
“Geez. Did you stand there the entire time?” she asked. Her heart rate accelerated as his enormous presence surrounded her, nothing at all like Steve’s gentle, easygoing manner.
“I did.” His look was wary, his eyes narrowed. “I wanted to be sure you were safe.”
“I’m fine.” She smoothed her hands down her skirt, shaking a bit from the endorphins.
Carlton leaned back, still holding her shoulders, and glanced up and down her frame. “You need a firmer Dom.”
“Really? And you’re an expert on this?” She planted her hands on her hips, trying to keep from shaking and hold her own against Carlton’s high-handedness.
He nodded. “Yes. I see what you’re doing. You just got your feet wet. Dipped your toes in the water. That guy wasn’t strong enough for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She rolled her eyes and squirmed to get out of his clutches. He was potent and distracting her to the core. She rationalized it was probably because she’d so recently come out of a scene, but she needed some distance from this suddenly overbearing Carlton who’d gotten in her face twice tonight.
She wiggled free and ducked out of his hands to head for the bar, leaving him standing there.
She could feel his stare penetrating her backside, and she had the urge to smooth her skirt down again and ensure it truly covered her ass. Even though Carlton had seen every inch of her skin in the past, he hadn’t ever been the Dom to control it.
Why did it feel like he’d topped her with his gaze alone?
Carlton wiped his palms on his jeans as he stepped into the nave of St. Vincent’s Cathedral. He made his way to the left side and took a seat on the back row as he’d done so many times over the years.
There were only a half-dozen people inside the church this afternoon. No one paid any attention to him. It was what he preferred. The anonymity was what allowed him to keep coming.
He’d never attended a service. In fact he wasn’t even Catholic, but that wasn’t why he came.
Karen had been Catholic. She’d gone to church every Saturday night with her parents. She’d insisted it was peaceful.
Carlton had laughed at her at the time. Karen hadn’t ever been a peaceful sort of woman. She’d always been running at full speed. The idea that she took an hour a week to relax and reboot had made him chuckle. But it was serious for her. And he’d respected that.
Since her death, he’d felt the urge to come on her behalf, light a candle in her memory, sit and attempt to absorb the peace the church had given her.
Carlton had chosen St. Vincent’s for its size. It looked like the church Karen had attended years ago in their hometown. He’d never been inside that one, but he assumed they were all similar.
The crazy thing was it brought Carlton some level of peace. He felt closer to Karen when he was inside a space she had loved. He sort of spoke to her in his mind.
He closed his eyes and pictured her giant smile, her eyes wide with mirth, her belly laughter. She’d been bigger than life, too much for this world.
What would she think of the choices he’d made since she’d left him alone on this earth, extinguishing the tinkle of her voice for all time? Would she be proud of his decisions? He doubted it. If she could see him now, she would probably admonish him for remaining so aloof for twelve years. She would have wanted him to move on and be happy. She couldn’t have known how deeply he felt about her, still did.
He wasn’t a hermit. He’d gone out with several women over the years. He’d had many different submissives under him at Emergence. But none had been long-term. None had made his heart pound like the memory of Karen did. And it had been a long time since he’d brought someone to his home.
And now Maggie had stepped into his life.
Carlton didn’t trust his feelings for Maggie. She was the spitting image of what he imagined Karen would have looked like had she lived to be twenty-seven. It wasn’t Maggie’s fault, and she didn’t know anything about his demons, but every time Carlton saw her, it gave him pause. He’d known her for a long time, and every time he saw her, he did a double take.
Did he want to Dom for her? Fuck yes, he did. He wanted to bring her to her knees in front of him and watch her eyes glaze over with need while he made her squirm. But he never had relationships that were more than casual with any woman for a reason. He never wanted to hurt like he still did for Karen.
And Carlton knew instinctively if he took Maggie as a submissive, it wouldn’t be casual. She made his dick pulse and his heart pulse harder. As much as he wished he could Dom for her, and perhaps in doing so purge himself of his demons, he feared the opposite would occur, and he would instead be lured into her web.
He was chicken. He admitted it, if only to himself. Jason had made him think about something he’d never considered. Did Maggie need him? He couldn’t stand the thought of her submitting to another Dom in order to get her feet wet. When he’d watched her submit to Steve the other night, he’d gritted his teeth. It had nothing to do with his feelings toward her. Hell, he cared about her. She was a friend. He’d known her for over a year. If she wanted to experiment with male Doms, he didn’t want to see her hurt.
She’d never once come on to him in any way that would make him question her motives. But the woman needed a firm Dom. Not a newbie. Not a dabbler. She needed more, and Carlton knew he could be the man for that job.
But could he guard his heart in the meantime?
Jason had insinuated he was into her. Carlton knew better. He was into Karen. And Maggie looked like Karen. Was she as wild and risky and carefree as Karen? He didn’t know yet. If Jason was right, Carlton was in trouble. What if he couldn’t separate his feelings for a long-dead girlfriend from his longing for Maggie? She wasn’t a substitute. It would be cruel to use her in that way.
Carlton stared at the ornate, carved depiction of Christ hanging at the front of the church. He took a
deep breath and pushed himself to standing as though his body weighed a ton. He made his way to the left wall, staring at the dozen or so candles burning already. Other people had come throughout the day and lit a candle for another loved one. He would join them as he always did, adding his flame to the rows of flickering orange light in hopes that he would feel one-tenth of the peace Karen had always professed.
Chapter Three
The next Friday night, Margaret entered Emergence wearing her favorite outfit, a short black leather skirt that barely covered her ass and a red bustier that laced up in the back, leaving plenty of pale skin visible. It was her favorite because it made her feel sexy. The compliments she received when she wore it, and the sideways glances from both men and women, never hurt either.
The clothes gave her confidence that warred with her emotions. She had thought about last Friday repeatedly during the week, both the scene with Steve and her reaction to Carlton. The doorman had undoubtedly just been looking out for her safety, like he’d said, but what if it was more?
It was late when she arrived. The club was full. She barely nodded at Carlton as she passed him in the entrance. He was busy helping a couple of women fill out release forms. Did his gaze land on her longer than usual? She shivered. Surely she was imagining things.
She wove through the throng of people and made her way to the bar, where she grabbed a bottle of water and turned around to survey the landscape. This section of the club near the bar was the only section where the noise level was so high. In the rooms lining the hall, people were respectfully quiet as scenes played out.
A tap on her shoulder had her spinning to the left.
A man she’d seen a few times in the past let his gaze roam up and down her body before coming to rest on her face. “Are you topping or bottoming tonight?”
She smiled. “Neither.” She knew she appeared neutral in tonight’s outfit. She could go either way. But this man didn’t know her well enough to realize she was never a top.
“Care to dance?” He either misunderstood her answer or chose to ignore it.
“No. Thanks. I’m just going to mill around for a while.” She pasted a fake smile on.
The man nodded and wandered away. Margaret exhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath. What did you expect to happen? Just because a man asks you to dance doesn’t mean he won’t take no for an answer. Geez.
Margaret gripped the water bottle with both hands. The condensation on the outside dripped onto her fingers, and she lifted first one hand and then the other to wipe her neck, cooling her heated skin marginally.
Even though she’d gotten brave last weekend and allowed a man to top her, it didn’t mean she was ready to bottom for just any guy who approached. She knew she wanted to give another man a chance. Steve’s touch had been titillating, awakening a longing inside her. And then Carlton’s brooding looks had made her shiver.
Was it just her, or was the noise level unusually high?
In her candy-apple red stilettos, she lifted on tiptoe to see over the taller members of the crowd. She glanced around the room, searching for Jason Garwood, the owner. Any time she’d ever gotten freaked out at Emergence, she’d been able to count on him to bail her out, even if all she needed was a trip to the employee area behind the scenes to take a break.
She didn’t see him. In fact, she didn’t see Carlton anywhere either, and that man was impossible to miss. He was taller than most men she knew and broad enough to fill a doorframe.
Margaret worked her way through the crowd, hoping the area surrounding the dance floor was less busy. When she reached the edge, she found she was out of luck. Her spirits dampened. She felt an irritation creep up her neck.
Week after week she came to Emergence. It was a habit she’d developed as Lori’s sub. They came here every Friday. It seemed lately Lori tended to come more often on Saturdays, but Margaret kept her schedule. Why? Before last Friday, she hadn’t participated in any scenes in months. The few she’d enacted after breaking up with Lori had been purely cathartic. They kept her from losing herself entirely. And they’d been with women.
Margaret turned to head back to the front, but she ran into someone. “Sorry,” she blurted, grabbing the man by the biceps to keep from toppling. It was the guy from earlier. At least it wasn’t a total stranger.
“Change your mind?” He lifted one brow, but held on to her biceps with both hands also, not releasing her even though she was no longer in danger of falling on her ass.
“About what?” she asked.
“The dance? You seem to be looking for someone. I hope it’s me.” He smiled too wide and led her toward the floor as though he’d gotten the consent he needed.
“I…” She wanted to say she wasn’t in the mood, that she hadn’t been looking for him. But it seemed easier to just dance with him. She could give this man one dance and then beg off.
The second they hit the dance floor, she regretted the decision. Somehow she’d missed the fact that he was drunk when they’d spoken before. Alcohol wasn’t permitted at Emergence, which meant he’d either drunk his fill before coming inside, or carried it in his pocket against policy. His breath reeked.
He leaned too close to her, wrapping his arms around her middle and hauling her against him until she couldn’t avoid the cock pressed into her belly. When he spoke next, his breath gagged her. Bourbon? Undoubtedly straight. “You smell fantastic.” He pressed his nose to her neck and inhaled, reminding her of a wolf.
Ironic he would choose those words when she’d been thinking the opposite about him. He smelled like stale cigarettes and foul body odor from too much sweating.
One dance. Hold your breath. Margaret tried to separate her body from the octopus who suddenly had more arms than the two God gave him.
When his hands landed on her ass and squeezed, she’d had enough. “Stop.” She pressed against his chest to get him to release her. “You’re drunk.”
He held her tighter, his fingers kneading her ass, his tongue landing on her neck.
“I said, stop,” she shouted louder this time. Maybe he couldn’t hear her over the noise and the music. “Red.” At least if this asshole wouldn’t listen, someone standing around would hear her use the universal safe word.
He ignored her. His body swayed, but he was off beat, and she feared he would fall over, taking her down with him.
“Dammit. Let go of me.” Margaret pushed harder. When he didn’t release her, she slapped him. That was it.
Two large hands reached around the bastard’s shoulders and pulled him backward one second after the impact of her palm against his cheek. “I believe the lady asked you to release her.” Carlton. Of course. Even though she hadn’t been able to find him in the crowd, he was there. Nothing got by him. Thank God.
It took a moment for Carlton to sufficiently extricate Margaret from the drunk’s clutches.
“Ah, man. What’d you go and do that for? I was dancing with the lady.”
“The lady said no.”
“She did?” He had trouble standing without swaying now. How had she not noticed his level of intoxication before? “I didn’t hear her. She asked me to dance with her.”
Margaret’s mouth fell open. “I did no such thing.”
Carlton turned the man away from her, keeping a tight grip on the asshole’s shoulders and leading him toward the entrance. “Let’s go, buddy. Alcohol isn’t allowed inside Emergence, and you know it.”
“I don’t have any alcohol,” the man protested.
“Yeah, well, drunks aren’t permitted either. Next time come sober or don’t come at all. I’ll be watching you like a hawk.” Carlton reached back with one hand and grasped Margaret’s, possessively tugging her along behind.
She followed. He hadn’t given her another option. With one strong grip on the drunk guy’s shoulder and one tight clench of her small palm with hi
s larger one, he maneuvered the three of them to the front.
When he reached his desk, he turned toward Margaret. “Wait here, Maggie.”
She nodded, shivering at the way his nickname for her sounded as it slipped off his tongue. He’d called her Maggie from the first time she’d met him. No one else called her that. Not even her parents. But from Carlton, it just fit.
She watched as he led the drunk guy from the club. It took a few minutes to get him out the door. The man continued to protest his expulsion, arguing belligerently with Carlton as though he might possibly be able to win the larger man over with his slurred speech.
Margaret trembled again. She wasn’t sure if it was from relief over her rescue from the clutches of the drunk guy or from watching Carlton in action. The man was solid as a rock, and when he spoke, people did as he said. He didn’t take no for an answer. He wasn’t one to be pushed over. Reasoning with him was a lost cause. Only a drunk would attempt it.
Margaret wondered how he would use that power behind closed doors. She bit her lip thinking about the intensity in his gaze as he leaned over a woman. She’d seen him in action in the club as a Dom more times than she could count. When he wasn’t working and he did a scene with a sub, everyone in the vicinity stopped to watch. He could make any woman’s panties wet just standing near him. Even hers.
Finally, Carlton said a few words to the man guarding the door on the outside and turned back to Margaret. He took her hand again. She glanced down at the way he threaded two of his fingers with hers, almost intimate, or perhaps a coincidence. Either way, her heart pounded. He’d never held her hand before. Now twice in one night.
Carlton leaned in to speak discreetly to another employee as he led her away from the front. The other man nodded, stood taller and took up a stance manning the entrance.
Without saying another word, Carlton led Margaret through the crowd until he reached the employees-only door that led to the private areas of the club. He tugged the door open with his free hand and ushered Margaret through in front of him with a nod of his head.
Bound to be Tempted: Emergence, Book 4 Page 2
