L is for… (BDSM Checklist Book 12)

by L. DuBois

  “I’d parked it at the end of the lot, on the dirt not the gravel, in case the oil was leaking. I was kneeling down to check something. I heard someone drive up—this was fairly early in the evening. Leo and Gabriela got out of their car. They didn’t see me because I was behind the bike. I hear them talking about plans for the game.”

  “That’s…that’s what you’re confessing? That you didn’t…warn me about it?” Each word was slow, and he could feel her watching him.

  He stared at the ceiling. There were fluorescent lights here. The only place in the club he’d seen such cheap lighting.

  “No. It’s what I did with that information that I’m confessing.”

  He waited, hoping she would say something and maybe this conversation would get side tracked. Why the hell hadn’t he just waited to say something?

  Because she’d lain down beside him, put her limbs on him, as if to protect him, comfort him…

  Vic was good at silence, and he broke first, itching to get this over with.

  “I cornered Leo that night, told him I’d heard about the game. I blackmailed him.”

  “I very much doubt you blackmailed him. If you had, you wouldn’t still be a member of the club.”

  “Not real blackmail. But I told him I wanted something in exchange for not changing any of my behaviors.”

  Vic opened her mouth, but then closed it, shaking her head ruefully.

  “I couldn’t threaten to tell without getting booted and sued…” He looked at her, inviting her to pick up the thread.

  “You could have, without technically breaking a rule, clued people in that something was coming by deviating from your normal patterns.”

  Damn, she was so smart. And sexy.

  Cain cleared his throat. “I could have told Jensen to hurry up and make Anna his bonded sub. I could have mentioned something to Chastity about making sure her checklist was updated. If one did it, others would too.”

  “The subs aren’t lemmings…” Vic paused. “Wait, what was the price Master Leo paid for your silence?”

  Cain closed his eyes, opened them. “You.”

  “I’m sorry. Could you say that again?” Vic sounded merely curious.

  “I told them that I wanted you as my partner, and I wanted L. I wanted a letter that wouldn’t have anything too weird. That would give me the most options for doing what I wanted and—”

  “Hold on, please…You blackmailed the overseers, risked getting kicked out and having the full force of the club’s cadre of lawyers turned on you, in order to get the letter L?”

  “No. In order to have you. For you. The letter was secondary.”

  Another too-long silence, then, “Why?”

  “Because I knew it was the only way you’d scene with me.”

  Now she stiffened; he saw it out of the corner of his eye. “And you…did you realize that I needed to be taken down a few pegs? To face my prejudices towards the submissives who enjoy a more—”

  Cain sat up, because this was just too damned important to not be looking at her.

  “No, Vic. No.” He grabbed her arms, then immediately released her. The urge to touch her was gnawing at him, but that wouldn’t be fair.

  “No,” he said again, firmly. “I wanted you because you’re…because you might not be the kind of sub who usually likes me, but you’re the partner I want.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, her gaze far too perceptive. “You said ‘the kind of sub who usually likes me.’ Not ‘the kind of sub I like’.”

  “Exactly. You caught that, because you’re smart. You fight back. You don’t take shit. Last weekend you said you were ashamed—of how you’d thought, and of being a sub. But the Vic I know, the woman who likes to keep busy and play bartender and has the smartest fucking one liners…she’s proud and brilliant and…”

  He trailed off because her expression had softened until she lost that hard lawyer look.

  “You want…” She looked at him, seemingly waiting for him to finish her sentence.

  Her hesitancy made it easier to spit it the fuck out.

  “I have a crush on you. A big fucking crush. And I want to fuck you, spank you, top you.” Be with you.

  Vic pulled the blanket a little tighter around herself. Cain scrubbed the top of his head with one hand and stared at the door. He should go.

  “Why didn’t you just ask?” Her fingertips slid down his arm, a brief touch that seemed to ask him to look at her.

  Cain felt the first cautious stirrings of hope that this conversation wasn’t taking the ‘worst case scenario’ path through the woods. She didn’t sound angry or disgusted. He returned his focus to her.

  “Because if you said no, then it was over.”

  “And your…crush…would have to be full unrequited love.” Vic smiled. Small, and brief, but a smile none the less.

  “Vic, I manipulated you. I fucked any hope of us having solid foundations, because I wasn’t honest with you.”

  “Several of your statements have been true, others just conjecture based on fallacies in logic.” Despite the prim, lawyerly words, she was smiling, her voice soft and warm.

  “Damn it, I shouldn’t have done this now.” He ruthlessly quashed the hope from a moment ago, because he’d figured out what was going on. It was the post-scene glow that was causing this mellow reaction. “It’s not fair after the scene—”

  “Can I tell you what my first thought was based on what you just said?”

  “Of course.” Cain leaned back on his elbows, so he was half reclined, and not looming over her in any way.

  “I thought…” The laugh was rueful. “My thought was ‘oh wow, here is the only man who has ever given enough of a shit about me to make a damned plan.’”

  He had no idea what to say to that.

  “You turned a motorcycle into a sex toy, for me. You wanted me enough to risk something for me. I mean, yes, the lies are not acceptable, and you will never do it again…but you put in effort. You make things happen. You try…because you want me.”

  Damn. Men had done this beautiful woman dirty, if her main takeaway was that he had the ability to execute a plan.

  “I’ll tell you a secret.” She leaned in, despite the fact that there wasn’t a soul around here. “One of the reasons I like rope bondage, at least with the guys I’ve worked with here, is because it’s a sure thing. The things we’ve done…I’d be scared that I would just end up disappointed if I tried those with someone else. So I got into rope bondage. Got…inside my own head.” She tapped her temple while shooting him a soft smile. “I couldn’t be disappointed that way. I didn’t have to rely on my top except to tie the ropes. I convinced myself all I needed was the feeling of flying, the sense of connection within myself.”

  “Your Doms deserved to know this.”

  “I know they did. I told you I’m not a good submi—”

  “Finish that sentence,” he growled. “I dare you.”

  Vic licked her lower lip, taking it between her teeth for a moment.

  “You might be pissed about all this, when you aren’t post-orgasm agreeable,” he said after a moment.

  “I might.” She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture he’d never seen her make before. “We already know my brain is a mess, so it won’t surprise you that being made to fuck a motorcycle led to some epiphanies.”

  “Anything you’d like to share with the class?” He gestured around the empty room.

  “Among other things, I realized I was starting to develop a crush. On you. I thought it was utterly ridiculous. Having a crush on your Dom is amateur shit.”

  Cain tried not to grin like a loon. “Vic, you better not be fucking with me…”

  “I’m not.”

  All the tension and need he’d been suppressing finally broke the worn chains of his self control. Cain grabbed Vic, pulling her down onto his chest as he fell back. Her hair spilled around their faces, creating a veil that obscured the outside wor
ld.

  “Let’s try this, see where it goes.” He slid his hands down her back, under the blanket so he could feel her soft skin.

  “As Dom and sub,” Vic said firmly.

  Cain nodded, though in the privacy of his mind he was picturing her in her pjs beside him on the couch eating popcorn and later pregnant with his kid.

  “And I still expect to negotiate scenes and—”

  “You’re mine, Vic. No conditions. No negotiating every damn thing. The minute your car comes through the gate, you. Are. Mine.”

  She leaned down enough to rest her forehead on his, their noses touching as she said, “And you’re mine.”

  He liked that. He liked that a lot.

  Cain kissed her, soft and slow, then rolled her onto her side, tucking her hair behind her ear the way she had earlier. She tossed her leg across his then threw the blanket over both of them. It didn’t cover most of him, but he’d deal.

  Cain waited until she was settled and her breathing slow. Then Cain shot his hand out, cupping her pussy, which was no longer quite so damp, but still plenty warm and plump.

  She yelped as he palmed her, but after only a moment moaned.

  “I think we’ve done the best parts of L.” Cain flicked her clit, and Vic hissed at him, her hand worming under the blanket to his cock. “Tomorrow we’re starting at A, and we’ll do the whole checklist.”

  Epilogue

  Las Palmas, Checklist Game Planning Meeting

  Mikel looked across the table at his friend. They’d just finished deciding the pairing for the letter L, and Leo had been insistent that it be Cain and Victoria. It was an odd pairing, given that she was a rope-bottom, but that was what the game was about. Still, Leo and Gabriela had exchanged a few odd looks during their discussion.

  Gabriela was seated beside her Master, her collar rather incongruous with the t-shirt and leggings she wore. Most members of the club would say there were three overseers. Himself, Leo and Faith, but Gabriela had an equal legal and financial stake in the club. Given that she was a submissive she preferred that she not be presented as an authority figure, but behind the scenes she had equal say, and happily disagreed with her husband and master.

  She shifted, wincing a little, and Leo glanced at her and smiled. They were, after all, still in the club, and so Gabriela had been bent over the table several times throughout the course of this meeting.

  “M.” Faith tapped the marker against the large sheet of poster paper taped to the wall. The room was littered with the large sheets, giving the elegant space the feel of a corporate planning retreat.

  “There are quite a few items. It’s a heavy letter.”

  Mikel sorted through the paperwork on the table—member files that had started out in neat stacks. Now only the files of those already assigned were stacked.

  “One item in particular on this list is going to be very intense,” Mikel said after glancing at it. “We’ll need to set aside the appropriate Iron Court room for them.”

  “Not necessarily, if we assign someone adventurous.” Leo shrugged.

  “Then we don’t. That one should be intense.” Faith was looking over Mikel’s shoulder.

  Gabriela sat forward with another wince and after a moment grabbed two folders, passing them to Leo.

  He glanced at the names, raised his brows, and then passed them over. Mikel would never have considered this, but he cross-referenced their checklists while Faith looked over his shoulder. The two had enough of the items in common—among other things—to make it a viable pairing.

  Mikel sat back, flipping the files closed. “Gabriela, lovely creature you may be, but also a sadist of the first order.”

  Faith went to the wall and wrote down two names beside the letter M. They all took a moment to stare at the words, and Mikel felt a very brief moment of pity for the pair.

  Don’t miss M is for… coming March 2021.

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  About the Author

  Lila Dubois is an award winning, multi-published, bestselling author of erotic, paranormal and fantasy romance. Her book “J is for…”, the tenth book in the bestselling checklist series, won the 2019 National Readers’ Choice Award. Additionally, she’s been nominated for the RT Book Reviews Erotic Novella of the Year for “Undone Rebel” and the Golden Flogger. Having spent extensive time in France, Egypt, Turkey, Ireland and England Lila speaks five languages, none of them (including English) fluently. Lila lives in California with her own Irish Farm Boy and loves receiving email from readers.

  Visit Lila online:

  www.liladubois.net

  author@liladubois.net

  The Orchid Club Series

  The San Francisco Trilogy

  If Cinderella was a sub…

  San Francisco Longing

  San Francisco Lost

  San Francisco Love

  The Paris Trilogy

  Her ex is the only Dom who could give her what she really needs…

  Paris Pleasure

  Paris Punishment

  Paris Promise

  The Vienna Trilogy

  He’s her mark…and her Dom.

  Vienna Betrayal

  Vienna Bargain

  Vienna Bliss

  Excerpt from San Francisco Longing

  James rubbed his cold glass over her nipple, then replaced the cold with the heat of his mouth. Christiana tipped her head back, humming in pleasure. He sucked, licked, and then tugged on the tip of her breast with his teeth before releasing her.

  “You’re smiling,” he said softly.

  “I am?” She lowered her chin to look at him. His face, his lovely handsome face, was less than a foot away from her as she knelt astride his lap, her knees wedged against the padded arms of a large armchair.

  “You are,” he confirmed. His fingers plucked the nipple that had so recently been in his mouth.

  A sharp tug, her wet nipple slipped from his grasp, and she let out a little gasping yelp of pleasure.

  “Now you’re smiling,” she told him.

  “Because I enjoy playing with you.”

  “I enjoy being played with, Sir.”

  His smile became a grin. “I’ve noticed.” He reached behind her and toyed with the base of the plug, tugging gently.

  The large plug, which was thicker than the first but with a long, narrow neck, pressed at her from within. She got a vivid flash of the very-recent memory of being bent over to have the first plug removed before he’d inserted this larger plug and let her sit astride his lap.

  Footsteps approached, and a handsome man stopped beside them. “Having fun?”

  James looked over and grinned. “I am. Jun, this is Christiana. Christiana, Jun-Seo.”

  Christiana leaned a little toward James, slightly nervous with the stranger so close to their chair. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “And you. This is Sophy.” Jun casually flicked one of the bells dangling from the nipple of his female companion, who had a black leather mask covering the lower half of her face.

  Sophy inclined her head at them, and Christiana returned the nod.

  “He’s a good guy.” Jun jerked his chin at James. “Small dick, but still a nice guy.”

  Christiana pressed her lips together, sliding a glance to James. He shot the other man a wry expression, then patted her ass. “You better laugh, just to save Jun’s fragile ego.”

  “Ha ha,” Christiana said, making it sound as fake as possible, though she had been amused.

  Jun flicked the other bell, which hung from a small clamp attached to Sophy’s nipple. Sophy’s eyes fluttered closed, and the tiny bell tinkled softly.

  Christiana watched Jun play with the other woman, who had high, firm breasts and lovely dark nipples, and her own b
reasts ached to feel James’s fingers and teeth once more. She glanced at him, only to find him watching her intently.

  “Jun, do you have an extra set of bell clamps?”

  “Sure, you want them?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll have Sophy bring them over in a minute.” Jun put his hand on the small of Sophy’s back and led her away.

  Christiana was holding her breath, and James stroked her ribs. “Exhale,” he ordered.

  Christiana released her breath in a little puff of laughter. “Sorry.”

  “You like those bell clamps?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m not sure why, but they’re so…”

  “Jun has an affinity for functional BDSM jewelry—and they draw attention. Are you sure you’re not an exhibitionist?”

  “No, Sir. I mean, yes, I’m sure I’m not. I wasn’t really thinking about them drawing attention.”

  He cupped her breasts, lifting and kneading them while they continued to talk. Christiana’s pussy pulsed with need. He’d been right, that one orgasm hadn’t been enough, and he’d had her in a delicious state of arousal ever since then.

  “Then perhaps you like the way Jun played with them.”

  She swallowed. “I think maybe that’s it.”

  He leaned forward and kissed each nipple, then laved them with his tongue. “If what you want is to be played with, I’m happy to oblige.”

  “You’re so giving, Sir.”

  “Aren’t I?”

  The quiet sound of tiny bells drew their attention. Sophy, still wearing the half-mask, was standing beside the armchair, a pair of nipple clamps, this set gold rather than silver, resting on her outstretched palm.

  “Ah, thank you, Sophy.” James took the clamps from her. Sophy inclined her head, then looked at Christiana and winked before walking away, bells tinkling.