Just One Night: Volumes 1-3 (Just One Night #1-3)

by Kim Black

  Straightening up in my seat, my brows draw close together into a frown. “What do you mean they haven’t done it? Isn’t that what I am paying them for?” I bark at him, my impatience evident.

  Jaxon shakes his head, but pauses before continuing, “It’s your brother, Sir. He was at Ms. Lane’s residence when they arrived and apparently he ordered the movers to leave. They were very confused as to why you would hire them only to send them away before they’d had a chance to fulfill their obligations.”

  Jaxon took a giant step backward, just as I picked up the Bey-Berk antique brass bull statue that was on my desk. Without another thought, I threw the priceless piece of art across the room, letting it hit the wall, as a blast of red-hot fury surges through my veins.

  “What the hell was my brother doing at her house?” I fume, as I rise from my seat and round my desk.

  Jaxon doesn’t cower as I approach him, instead he straightens his back and looks me in the eyes. There is no doubt that he could probably kick my ass if I step too far out of line with him, but right now I just don’t give a damn. I want answers and I want them now.

  “That is a question you will need to ask your brother, Sir. I called him shortly after I spoke to the moving company. He is expecting your call, but says that he will be in attendance tonight at The Dungeon should you wish to speak to him face to face, although I seriously advise you against it.”

  Glaring daggers at my assistant, I take several deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down. I am not one to lose control so easily.

  “Let my brother know that I’ll meet him at the club, Jaxon. Have the car ready to go at eight sharp.” I tear my gaze away from his steely appraisal. If the man has an ounce of nervousness in him, I can’t tell. That is something that I usually like about him, but today it just seems to further aggravate me.

  “As you wish, Sir,” he responds, as he turns away to leave me standing alone in the middle of my office.

  Just before he reaches the door, he turns his head back toward me, “For the record, Sir. You’d lose,” he says, as he chuckles softly. “It seems that Ms. Lane arouses great passion within you. I surely hope that you are worthy of her.”

  With that, he turns and walks out of the office, closing the door behind him.

  ALYSON

  This is a stupid idea.

  Derrick spent the entire afternoon explaining all things BDSM to me, and now I can confidently say that I am an expert on the subject. At least on paper I am. I obviously haven’t yet had the chance to put any of the things he’s gone over with me to use.

  According to Derrick, Blake needs a little push in the right direction. He is convinced that I am absolutely perfect for his twin brother, even though I have been adamantly opposed to his theory. Blake and I are worlds apart, and even after I explained that to Derrick, he brushed it off as inconsequential.

  It was then that he decided to bring me up to speed on all things D/s. He was very thorough and he even pulled up several websites as exhibits, and drew several diagrams. I didn’t have any idea that Derrick was so kinky, but apparently he is worse than his brother. He did make sure to let me know that he only uses his gifts on his girlfriend for the most part.

  Lucky gal.

  It’s been a nonstop cramming session since early this morning, with only a brief, and I mean very brief pause, when Derrick suddenly needed to retrieve something from his car. When he returned, he seemed a bit on edge. I wanted to ask him about his odd behavior, but decided against it. It’s more than likely he was just nervous about the possibility of his plan backfiring.

  Oh, and it is surely going to backfire, Lane, I think to myself, as I step into the dress Derrick handed me after his return from downstairs. I didn’t have a chance to examine the beauty of it while Derrick was here. It’s a breathtakingly stunning, gold-accented, crystal-embroidered, single-shouldered teal dress in silk crepe. Its hemline reaches a little above mid-thigh and it hugs me in all the right places. It appears that Derrick has amazing taste in women’s clothing.

  If only he was gay. I have been meaning to find a gay male friend. Maybe he’s bi?

  Chuckling to myself, I release the curls I’d pinned up in my hair before I took my shower, and allow my dark tresses to fall freely into soft waves. My makeup is simple and elegant, shimmery, gold glossed lipstick and golden eyeshadow that helps accentuate my eyes.

  Stepping into a strappy, gold high-heeled sandal, I feel like a million bucks. Giving myself a once over in the mirror, I still can’t help but wonder why I agreed to go along with Derrick’s crazy plan.

  I know how it’s going to end. Nothing good will come of this, and yet, for some reason, a small part of me can’t help but hope that his plan will work. Who knows? Maybe Blake wants this as much as I do.

  Don’t hold your breath, Lane. He’s more than likely going to be furious with you.

  Sighing, I turn away from the mirror and pick up my purse. It’s too late to back out now, and I know that if I skip out on this plan of Derrick’s, he’ll only come up with another crazier one. For some reason this has become a very personal mission for him.

  Straightening my shoulders to project an air of confidence I don’t really feel, I walk slowly to the waiting car service vehicle that Derrick sent over. Climbing in, I try to calm my growing nerves.

  The driver, a young African American man, rounds the car after seating me and peels off the second he’s back behind the wheel. This is very much like my first ride to The Dungeon, and I am beside myself with worry.

  What if he doesn’t take the bait? What if he couldn’t care less? What if he has another woman with him? That final thought causes bile to rise in my throat, but I quickly swallow it down. Why, oh why, did I agree to this?

  By the time we reach the Brooklyn Bridge, I am hunched over, with my head between my legs and breathing deeply. The driver looks over at me several times during the ride with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Uh, Miss? You all right?” he asks for the tenth time, and I lift my head up slightly and give him a silent thumbs up.

  Am I all right? Fuck no, I am not all right, but telling him that won’t help me one bit.

  I can do this. I can do this, I tell myself repeatedly, but I know that I am quickly losing it. Another thought crosses my mind just as we finally navigate off the bridge and I truly fear that I am going to throw up.

  God, this plan is totally dependent on Blake stepping in and stopping us, but what if… Oh, God. I can’t do this!

  BLAKE

  Jaxon drops me off directly in front of The Dungeon and I don’t bother waiting for him to open my car door. We barely said a word to each other during the entire trip, for which I am grateful, given the fact that I had allowed my emotions to get the best of me right in front of him.

  “Shall I accompany you, Sir?” Jaxon asks, once I exit the car, with my back to him.

  I turn toward him and regard him intently. Jaxon is my best employee. We’ve always managed to keep our relationship strictly professional, although right now his disapproving eyes look more fatherly than I would like. I suppose he views me as a father would view his son, since he is several years my senior, but I need neither a friend nor a parent in this relationship.

  “No. I will call you when I need you to return,” I curtly reply, as I watch his jaw clench tensely at that remark.

  When he doesn’t respond, I turn to the entrance of The Dungeon, ready to get to the bottom of my brother’s business with Alyson.

  “Sir,” Jaxon calls out to me, just as I make it halfway to the door. I release a deep sigh as I turn around to face him, and simply say, “Jaxon.”

  He clears his throat and releases a breath before walking toward me. Standing just a few feet away, he looks me directly in the eyes. “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but please tread lightly with Ms. Alyson,” he says. He squares his shoulders and faces me, obviously anticipating a negative response as my brow furrows.

  “Excuse me?” The volume of my
question doesn’t seem to faze him as he continues to stare at me. Jaxon has never stepped this far out of line in the three years he’s worked for me. His forwardness is completely out of character, and it almost makes me want to cut him some slack. Almost.

  “Sir, I have known you for three years, and, after the sudden departure of your...”

  I don’t let him finish, “Be very careful, Jaxon. I am your employer and I would suggest that you remember that. My personal affairs are no concern of yours,” I remind him.

  “Very well, Sir,” he sighs, and he shakes his head before turning away and getting back into the car.

  By the time he drives off, I am fuming mad and the urge to hit something is intense, but I will myself to calm down. Losing my temper before I meet with my brother will do me no good. I need to keep a clear head or this night will end very badly… for him.

  Striding to the entrance of The Dungeon, I head to the elevator with purpose. Derrick has a lot of explaining to do. I can’t for the life of me justify any reason he might have had to visit Alyson at her home, and certainly not alone.

  Has he been visiting her daily ever since she stormed out of my office? Were they now seeing each other?

  Endless questions swarm my mind as the elevator sounds its arrival. Stepping inside, I try to remind myself that Derrick is my brother, my identical twin brother. He is many things—cocky, troublesome, and irritating—but he is not one to take what doesn’t belong to him.

  And Alyson belongs to me!

  Exiting the elevator, I take a deep, calming breath before trekking down the long hallway that leads to the door of The Dungeon’s main floor. Once I’ve steadied my emotions, I continue to make my way down the long dark hallway and open the door.

  You’d better have one hell of an explanation, brother.

  ALYSON

  The dimly lit room does nothing to calm my nerves. I can’t help but feel anxious. There’s a full house here tonight at The Dungeon, and the exhibits have more onlookers than usual.

  Derrick is already here when I arrive, and has set everything up for our planned ruse. He tries to reassure me that his plan will work, but, of course, I hear none of it. The only thing I hear is the pounding of my heart inside my chest.

  Pulling me up onto the slightly raised platform, Derrick leads me to stand in front of a reinforced, freestanding St. Andrews Cross at its center. He’s already informed the appropriate managers of the slight change of plans in this evening’s entertainment, and it is now time for us to begin. My eyes scan the club, searching for any sign of Blake, but, to my disappointment, I don’t find him.

  “Are you sure he’s coming?” I ask Derrick softly, as I stand directly in front of the Cross, a sea of onlookers staring up at me.

  “Absolutely,” he whispers back, discreetly, before he backs away from me to permit the spectators to get a better view.

  My breath hitches in my throat as I take in the number of people expectantly gaping at us. Unlike the other exhibits lining the outermost walls, Derrick had managed to get us a center platform, thus allowing viewers to completely surround us. The center platform is normally reserved for special guest. That’s what Derrick told me when I first arrived. Since Derrick is one of the partners, it was easy for him to arrange for us to be center stage.

  You can’t do this. What are you thinking, Lane?”

  Derrick loosens his royal blue necktie and undoes the top two buttons of his crisp white linen shirt. He looks almost as handsome as Blake standing there to my right.

  I gulp, and I drop my purse to the floor of the platform, and mentally try to prepare myself for what is about to happen next. Derrick promised me that he would be my guide through this, but I just can’t shake my nerves. My clammy hands are shaking as I turn my eyes away from him and briefly close them.

  Well, it’s too late to back out now, Lane. Just try to just pretend that it’s Blake who is doing this to you.

  Opening my eyes once again, I try to dial down my anxiety level, and steel myself for this final game. If only I knew for certain that Blake will really show up here tonight to see this, I might be better able to ready myself. But, there is no way to know for sure that he’ll be watching, and Derrick’s confidence does nothing to reassure me. He was so sure that his first plan to trick Blake and me would succeed, who’s to say that this plan will turn out any better than the last one.

  He walks across the platform, his sleeves now rolled up to show his strong, solid forearms. “Follow everything I tell you to do. No questions, no hesitations. We have only one shot at this. It needs to seem real,” he murmurs softly for me alone to hear.

  Nodding my head ever so slightly, I await his first command.

  “Take off your clothes. Leave on the heels,” he instructs, just before he again steps away from me.

  Heat rushes to my face, but I do as I am told. Slowly, I unzip my dress and allow the soft material to fall away, pooling at my ankles. Stepping out of it, I stand up straight, wearing nothing but my barely there lace lingerie. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I let them fall to my sides.

  The music changes to a slow seductive beat and I can’t help but close my eyes and allow it to take over, my body slowly swaying from side to side.

  Yes, I can do this, I tell myself, as I lose myself to the sensual beat.

  Derrick’s soft breath tickles my shoulder, “You are so beautiful. Do you know just how fucking breathtaking you look right now?” He doesn’t whisper this. He says it loud enough for the watchers to hear. To my surprise, and I am sure, to his, I moan in response and immediately tense up the second I hear myself do so. My hands come up to cover my breasts, but my eyes remain closed, unwilling to face our audience just yet.

  “No, don’t shy away from me, my sweet,” he cajoles into my ear, as he gently lulls me into calmness, his hands now softly caressing my arms.

  “That’s it, darling. Let me guide you. Don’t fight it,” he instructs me, and, to my surprise, I find myself relaxing into him, letting go of all my uneasiness.

  Derrick takes hold of my right hand and brings it up over my head. He fastens it to the cross behind me with the attached straps, and then does the same with my left hand. I feel him kneel down in front of me. His hair tickles my legs as he pushes my legs wide apart, and then straps them down to the base of the cross as well. He tugs at the restraints, checking to make sure that they are secure before stepping back, no doubt letting the onlookers take me in. He seems to enjoy giving them a show.

  “Look at me,” he dictates, and my eyes fly open to find that he has removed his shirt. I can’t help but gape at the sight of him. Just like Blake, Derrick’s body is virtually flawless. The sexy dips and grooves around his abs makes me instinctively lick my lips.

  What the hell are you doing, Lane? Stop ogling Derrick! I chastise myself, and force my eyes to look away from his hard, chiseled chest and his all too lickable abs. Raising my eyes up to his face, I see that Derrick is smirking knowingly. He’s clearly caught me gaping at him.

  Yeah, somehow I don’t think he’s bisexual. He’s totally hetero. So much for finding my new gay bff.

  Derrick strolls over to a nearby table and picks up a flogger. He turns back to face me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. My eyes widen as he slowly ambles closer, his moves both unhurried and strong.

  What is he going to do? I wonder, but, in truth, I know just what he’s about to do to me. I’ve seen the videos, watched as Doms flogged their subs deliciously until they were squirming and begging for more. I want nothing more than to experience this with Blake, but, being center-stage in The Dungeon, just a few feet away from Derrick as he approaches me with the flogger in hand makes me panic.

  A sheen of sweat coats my body as I wait for him to proceed. My eyes again scan the room in search of Blake, but I still don’t see him.

  Derrick stops directly in front of me, blocking my view of the crowd. His hands come up to grip my hair firmly. He tugs it back and his gaze falls to m
y lips. My chest rises and falls in anticipation, but he doesn’t attempt to kiss me.

  Instead, he brings the flogger up to my shoulder, softly letting it caress my body. Slowly he moves it over my breasts, first the right one and then the left, and my rapid breathing intensifies. Then, suddenly and without warning, he cracks it against my right nipple. Hard. The pain shoots through me. I yelp and then cannot help but moan at the sweetness of the pleasure that surfaces in the wake of the pain. Liquid gathers in my panties, and I hate my body for reacting this way, but I know it believes it’s in the hands of its Master—my body associating the delicious pain with Blake, even though it’s Derrick who stands before me.

  This is so wrong. Blake, where the hell are you?

  BLAKE

  Walking into The Dungeon, I head straight to the bar. I am very much in need of a stiff drink before my meeting with Derrick. Between Jaxon’s sudden interest in my personal affairs and my brother’s secret appearance at Alyson’s home, I feel as though I am losing control and I cannot allow that to happen.

  I have spent a long time developing a system in my life, making sure that everything goes accordingly. However, in the past few weeks everything about my system seems to be unraveling, especially ever since my first conversation with Alyson.

  She is the reason for it all, and I know I should walk away from the enchanting woman, but I can’t do that just yet. We have too much unfinished business.

  The bartender, the same collared young man who served me during my first night with Alyson, places a shot in front of me as soon as I reach the bar. He gives me a knowing look, then smirks slightly and walks away. I throw the shot back and wince. It’s strong, just the way I like it.

  I slam the glass down on the bar, and close my eyes. Taking in a deep breath, I feel the burn of the amber liquid as it works its way down my throat.

  Nice.