"No," I answered him brusquely. "I like her, but I wouldn't go that far."
"That wasn't a question, Scott," Calder said, his amusement growing right along with my irritation. "It was an observation."
"Then observe this," I growled as I shot him the bird. "You don't know what you're talking about. It was just sex, really really great sex..." I trailed off, staring at nothing as I remembered how good her soft curvy body felt against mine as I thrust deeply in and out of her tight wet little cunt. Mmm, it had been so fucking good, so sweet and perfect, and I couldn't wait to get another taste. There was so much more of her gorgeous body that I hadn't gotten to explore yet.
Calder snorted out a laugh, drawing my attention back to the here and now. His expression had skepticism written all over it as he watched me with his crystalline blue eyes sparkling in wry amusement. I wasn't in the mood. He might be all about true love and happily-ever-afters with his new wife and adopted kid, but none of those things were for me. I didn't buy into any of that bullshit, and it was time for a change of subject.
"So Vinnie Wilkes is a member here now, huh?" I asked flatly.
Calder's expression instantly sobered as guilt flickered behind his gaze. He'd heard me talk about my past in our weekly addiction recovery meetings enough to know my strong feelings toward Vinnie.
He sighed deeply. "He was fully vetted, and vouched for by his Mistress when she started bringing him a few months back." He raised his hands helplessly. "Mistress Nadasdy is a well-respected club member, and I had no good reason not to, so I allowed it. He hasn't caused any trouble and until last night, you barely set foot in the place, so I didn't think it would be a problem." He made a pained expression. "Is it? Because I can revoke his membership if you want me to. It might take some smoothing over with Nadasdy, but I can-"
"No, no, no," I cut in immediately, feeling bad about putting him in a position to anger or alienate a club member. He was a good friend, and I didn't want to take advantage of it. "Don't do that." I shook my head. "I'm a big boy, and I can suck it up and deal with it." I shrugged. "Besides, once this whole investigation thing with Lu is over, I won't have any reason to keep coming into the club as a member anyway."
And there was that skeptical expression again, along with a knowing smirk. "When it's over, huh?" he asked.
I glared at him, willing him with my eyes to drop this bullshit he'd gotten into his head that Lu and I were doing anything more than scratching an itch while I helped her find the killer. He was deluded, and needed to let it go.
"Yes," I replied vehemently, grateful when his reply was a brisk nod and an immediate subject change. I chose to ignore the niggling little part of me that wasn't so sure about who was truly the deluded one here.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
____________________
Lu
Here I was yet again, sitting in Scott's sleek and luxurious silver BMW as we pulled up to the valet stand of Désir Dangereux on Saturday night. He shot a sexy grin at me as he put the car in park, then climbed out to circle the vehicle and open the door for me. I noticed the other night that the valet's here rarely opened the doors for any of the passengers, probably to keep from pissing off a possessive Dom.
Scott reached down for me, and I gripped his warm hand in mine and let him help me out of the soft leather passenger seat. He looked damn good in a dark-blue suit with a black dress shirt underneath. He pulled me close for a second, just long enough to nip the side of my neck and give me a direct hit of his heady masculine scent. He always smelled so damn good. I shivered involuntarily as he released me. He handed his keys to the waiting valet, then put an arm around my waist as he led me to toward the entrance.
"What cologne are you wearing?" I asked him curiously.
"I never wear cologne," he replied with a small shake of his head.
"You mean that's all you?" I blurted out as I eyed him incredulously.
He snorted out a laugh and gave me that damnable sexy smirk of his. "It's all me, babe." He leaned closer and literally smoldered at me. Nope. I did not find it sexy at all, no matter what my traitorous body felt otherwise. "And just one of the many reasons why you never stood a chance at resisting my charms."
"Bastardo arrogante," I shot up at him with a narrow-eyed glare.
"You like it, remember?" he replied huskily before he escorted me through the door into the foyer with a possessive hand on the small of my back. I liked it, really liked it, damn it. It made me want his hands all over me with nothing between us.
I shivered again, my lust effecting me too strongly to argue with him this time. "Sí, mi Rey," I whispered.
"Good girl," he growled softly in my ear, his words as much as his tone making my clit pulse.
My body was really pissing me off right now. I needed to focus, not lust after Scott like a nymphomaniac. There would be time to play later, after we were done working the case tonight, but damn if it was hard not to beg him to take me to a private room right now, so he could have his way with me again. He was just that good, and to be honest, I was still reeling from our sexual encounter Thursday night and in desperate need of more, no matter how I tried to suppress it. I was certain he'd only given me a small taste of what he could do to me.
And oh, the things he did to me. It was only partially the way everything felt physically. Scott said that if I trusted him and gave him control, that he could make me fly, make me soar. I thought he was waxing poetic in the moment, but he'd been dead serious. I'd never felt so free before, so...safe. It made no sense that a man I barely knew could make me feel like that. When I'd come back to myself after our shared climax, wrapped up in his arms in our private room's bed, I'd never felt so calm and relaxed before in my life.
I feared things between us would become weird or awkward after our first sexual encounter, but they didn't. Scott was still the same infuriatingly cocky, yet charming sexy man he'd been beforehand, when we left the club. Besides the fact that I now felt more at ease in his presence, nothing else seemed to have changed between us. I found it strangely comforting even as it surprised me. For the first time after sleeping with a man, I actually wanted more, not less like usual.
Most men in the past had left me wanting after sex, and I'd quickly lose interest in them, but with Scott, that wasn't the case. Sex with him had only whetted my appetite for more, and my body was clearly impatient for it, if my raging libido was any indication. When he kissed me goodnight at my car the night before, a part of me hoped he would've invited me up to his bed to ravage me again instead. I'd never been into cuddling before, but for some reason, I wanted more of that with him too. None of what I felt made any sense, and I knew it was all temporary anyway, but I needed to savor it while I could, just not while we were working.
We checked in, then approached the coat check window, where Scott chivalrously stepped behind me to help me take off my coat. I couldn't suppress the shit-eating grin that spread across my lips as soon as he couldn't see my face. I'd purposefully kept my coat on when I arrived at Scott's penthouse and hadn't let him see the dress I'd worn for tonight. I couldn't wait to see his reaction. Better yet, I couldn't wait to see his reaction when he discovered later in our private room that I'd worn no bra or panties under it either. I shrugged out of the coat as Scott took it, and a second later I felt his body still behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder to see his stunned eyes locked on my back with his gorgeous lips slightly parted as he mindlessly handed my coat over to the coat-check woman. Oh yeah, he liked what he saw. Tonight, I'd chosen a navy blue cocktail dress. It was knee length, but hugged my curves like a second skin, the back basically just a collection of a few thin straps that left me bare almost down to the crack of my ass. I turned to face him, my smug expression growing when his gaze zeroed in on the keyhole opening in the front of the dress that exposed a large swath of cleavage down the center of my chest. I couldn't have worn a bra if I wanted to wear one.
"Sweet fucking Chri
st," he blurted out quietly in an awed tone.
Lust burned so bright in his eyes that I thought he might spontaneously combust right where he stood. His gaze rose to meet mine, and the fierce and unexpected possessiveness I saw immediately riveted my attention.
"Fucking hell." He shook his head in utter disbelief. "I don't know whether to parade you around so every man here can see what they can't touch, or take you to our private room now so no one else can look at you in this hot as fuck dress." He growled under his breath as he latched onto my waist with both hands and pulled me close until our bodies touched. I could feel his massive erection against my pelvis. "Fuck, Lu. You look incredible."
"I know," I said smugly as I pushed my chest out to flaunt my assets, and maybe torment him a little in the process.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Who's the bastardo arrogante now?"
"Certainly not me, mi Rey," I replied in a soft and demure tone with a smirk that completely belied my words.
He arched a brow, and his eyes hardened. "I think you just earned yourself a punishment later tonight."
"Por favor, mi Rey," I said breathily as I pressed my breasts against him.
"Fuck," he said roughly through gritted teeth. "You're killing me, Lu," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with blatant lust.
I opened my mouth for a snarky response, but Scott's eyes suddenly flicked away from mine and locked intently on something over my shoulder. I watched as a predatory expression slid over his face, narrowing his eyes and tightening his mouth. He leaned in to brush his lips against my ear.
"It's time to work, babe," he murmured softly. "One of them is here."
"Which one?" I asked just as quietly, fighting a strong urge to whirl around to see for myself, and possibly give our interest in the suspect away.
"James Van Allen," he whispered his reply as he pulled me in closer.
I nodded as I wrapped my arms around Scott's neck. He turned us so I could peek around his shoulder toward the check-in desk. I'd seen pictures of each suspect when Scott had briefed me about them Wednesday night, so I immediately recognized the tall middle-aged man with his thick head of salt and pepper hair standing across the foyer. Ah, the investment bank owner who was the last of our suspects to bring the first victim, Monica Stallworth, to the club a few weeks before the poor girl was murdered several months ago.
He was quite attractive, with a classically handsome face and broad muscular shoulders. Of course, he carried himself with self-assurance, since he was a Dominant after all. Standing next to him was a tall curvy blond in a long coat, who I assumed was his submissive. She had this whole fake Barbie doll vibe that instantly turned me off.
Scott began trailing his lips down my neck, so as not to blow our cover, and I hooded my eyes as I continued surreptitiously watching the couple across the room. I grabbed Scott's biceps and squeezed as I fought the urge to close my eyes, melt against him, and forget about everything around us. His lips felt so good on me, the low growls that he was letting out vibrating so sweetly against my sensitive skin. It made it so hard to focus, but I persevered.
James Van Allen looked the part of a middle-aged wealthy man to a tee. He was dressed in a fitted gray designer suit and tie, and his hair was perfectly cut and styled. His dark eyes seemed sharp and intelligent, and he moved with a confident grace befitting a successful business man and Dom. He was attentive to his submissive, his eyes rarely straying from her as they checked in, but it didn't seem like the unhealthy obsession of a sadistic killer to me.
A moment later, they turned to move toward the coat check window and our nearby position. The couple's eyes fell on Scott and me with brief passing interest as Scott continued laving his tongue against my neck. Van Allen helped his submissive out of her coat like Scott had for me, and I suddenly stiffened as I got a good look at what the woman had on underneath.
Scott lifted his head at my change in posture and glanced over at them too, then froze against me. The woman was wearing a tiny red dress made of nothing but lace and mesh with no bra or panties underneath. There was absolutely nothing left to the imagination as she stood there on tall red fuck-me heels with her overly-tanned skin and big bobbing fake tits easily visible under the see-through fabric. Even her face looked like she'd had some work done, and she couldn't have been much more than thirty years old. Nothing about her looked real. Nothing.
"Holy fuck," Scott mumbled quietly, still looking at the woman.
I stiffened further, this time in indignation as a sharp jab of jealousy hit me hard in the gut. I'd never felt anything like it. I didn't even know what to make of it, but I did know one thing for certain. I did not like Scott checking out that bimbo, especially while I was still in his arms. Besides, she had nothing on me. I knew I looked better than her. I turned my head to glare at Scott, ready to call him a pig, but stopped when I saw his expression. He was checking her out alright, but not in an appreciative way at all. The fascinated disgust was readily apparent on his features, and the ugly jealously began to fade. He shook his head and turned back to me after the couple had disappeared into the club.
"Give me the real thing any day, babe," he murmured huskily as he slid his hands down to squeeze my ass firmly and grind his erection against me, making me gasp involuntarily. He eyed me lewdly and grinned. "Who wants to squeeze butt implants and silicone while you're fucking a sweet piece of ass anyway?"
"Pig," I told him anyway, but this time facetiously since the jealously had disappeared completely.
His smile softened as he leaned closer with warmth in his eyes, then unexpectedly rubbed his nose against mine. What the? He'd never done anything like that before, and the affectionate display threw me off a little. He straightened with a more serious expression, seemingly unaware of what he'd just done.
"What's your first impression, babe?" Scott asked quietly as he led me after the couple with a warm hand resting on the bare skin of my lower back again.
I briefly considered Van Allen's clean background and what I'd seen if him so far, then shook my head. "He's probably not the one." I'd always had an innate ability to get a read on people in a short amount of time, and I didn't think he was our quarry. As a cop, I'd learned to listen to my gut since it was usually spot on.
"I agree," Scott replied without any hesitation. "But let's keep an eye on them for a while just to be sure. Sound good?"
"Yeah," I said, happy he wanted to be thorough about this because so did I. It gave me hope that we'd work well together through this investigation.
We walked into the club just in time to see Van Allen and his bimbo across the room as they disappeared through the black double doors into the club's public dungeon. I came to a sudden halt as trepidation fell over me, and Scott eyed me closely in concern.
"You ready for this, babe?" he asked. "Because shit's gonna get real once we enter the dungeon."
Talking about going into a room filled with people participating in sex and BDSM was one thing, but seeing it first hand was another thing entirely. I thought I could handle it, but what if I couldn't? What if the whole room could tell I was a newbie and a fraud? I ignored the voice inside my head that suggested I might not be that much of a fraud since I'd been so into it with Scott the night before. Nope, not going there right now.
I steeled myself and nodded. "I've got this," I said with a confidence that was mostly bravado.
He gave me a sweet and genuine smile that gave me an unexpected flush of pleasure. "Of course you do, babe," he said with a hint of pride in his voice as his rough palm rubbed a comforting circle over my lower back. "You're a badass."
I snorted out a laugh. "Sure I am," I replied sarcastically, since my usual confidence seemed to be lagging tonight.
He leaned in close. "You are," he insisted softly, then pressed a gentle kiss to my temple, before urging me forward. I followed along, reeling from yet another unsettling display of affection that seemed out of character for him.
All too soon, Scott and I were approac
hing the doors to the public dungeon, and the security guy dressed in all black was pulling the door open for us to enter the room. My attention was immediately captured by the sounds as we entered, the slaps of flesh on flesh, the sharp cracks of leather on willing skin, and the cries of pleasure.
The people caught my attention next, giving life to the sounds echoing around the large Gothically decorated room. Most if not all the BDSM furniture around the periphery of the room was being used by Doms and Dommes pleasuring and erotically torturing their subs. It all combined into a dark hedonistic symphony that threatened to overwhelm me.
As we walked further inside, my eyes zoomed in on the round stage in the center of the dungeon, where Scott had been standing the first time I entered this room. It was now occupied by a strikingly beautiful African-American couple. The fully dressed man was giving the whole room an enthusiastic demonstration of erotic flogging with his nude submissive, who was cuffed to a St. Andrew's cross and crying out loudly and ardently with each stroke he gave her.
My pussy instantly throbbed at the sight, and I stopped in my tracks. I stood stock still and watched in fascination as the flogger repeatedly connected with the already reddened hazelnut skin of the woman's back and buttocks. Her stunningly gorgeous face was turned toward me, her eyes closed and her expression rapturous. Hell, she was smiling and so was her attentive Dom.
His striking dark-green eyes were focused only on his sub, as if the rest of the world didn't exist beyond her. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Had my face looked anywhere near that ecstatic the night before when Scott spanked me? Had Scott's looked like this Dom's? I thought so, but something told me my small taste had been nothing compared to what this man and woman were feeling right now. A sudden bone deep longing for that depth of pleasure and release ached in my chest. I wanted to let go like that...craved it...needed it. A small needful whimper actually managed to escape my lips before I could stifle it.
Tempting Calm Waters Page 14
