The Hot Sergeant (Second Chance Military Romance) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #2)

by Alexa Davis

  Holy shit. My heart was racing and my palms were sweating. I knew without a doubt that I was selling my soul, but I needed that money. Swallowing hard against the lump in my throat, I said, "I'll take it."

  Chapter Four: Tristan

  "Thank you so much, Mr. Porter." The winning contestant shook my hand heartily for the hundredth time. It had been a good show, and his business plan really was the best. I had a feeling he would make me rich.

  "Don't thank me, just make me money," I said with a grin. Paulina stepped in to supervise him through the paperwork, and I took the opportunity to slip out the back door where my limo driver was waiting.

  "Where to, sir?" Adam asked as he opened the car door for me.

  "I'm officially divorced today, and the show was one of my best. I believe that calls for a celebration tonight."

  "Yes, sir." Adam grinned, knowing exactly where I wanted to go. "Whip?"

  "Whip." I nodded, and kicked back in the backseat with my favorite drink, scotch on the rocks, as he drove. Whip was my favorite place to unwind. I had first found it when Janice and I had fallen into a lull in our marriage and sex was scarce. I had thought spicing it up might help and Janice agreed that trying something kinky and a little taboo might be just what we needed to put the thrill back in our bedroom. During my research on sexual trends, I learned about a secret club in a hotel basement in upper Los Angeles called Whip that specialized exclusively in bondage, domination, sadism, and masochism games, or BDSM as it was commonly called. Fascinated, Janice and I decided to give it a try.

  The place was incredible. Members were granted access through a private entrance and IDs were kept strictly confidential. Everyone who joined the club or worked there had to sign a non-disclosure agreement. The club was decorated like a medieval castle, with walls composed of large gray stones. Lush red carpets covered the hardwood floors, and the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling were lit by hundreds of candles instead of light bulbs. Private rooms decorated like dungeon alcoves lined the corridors and couples could rent them by the hour. For members who arrived without a partner, appropriate companionship was available for the right price, depending on whether you wanted your escort to be a dominant or a submissive. Toys and props lined the walls and guests were treated to lessons on proper use, as well as displays and shows. On special occasions, Whip even hosted orgies guests could attend if they purchased a specially priced private ticket.

  Janice was horrified and disgusted by what we saw there, but I was intrigued and deeply aroused. We left almost immediately, and I attempted to introduce her to BDSM play on a much smaller and simpler scale at home. She gave it an honest effort, but she just couldn't get into it. It just wasn't her thing, but knowing it was mine gave her leverage against me and she used it in every way she could. The bitch became an expert at blackmailing me as a way to get what she wanted, all the while refusing to have sex with me of any kind. In the end, I had no choice but to turn to escorts as a way of gaining some sexual release. I knew Janice had her own means of gaining release, too, so I didn't feel the least bit bad about it. We had an unspoken agreement between the two of us that ended on the day she served me with divorce papers. Well, now I was finally fucking free of that manipulative, cold-blooded bitch and I was going to celebrate with some good old fashioned fun.

  The moment I entered Whip, I felt invigorated. My blood was pumping faster, my mind was clearer, and I felt more alive than I had all week. Now, I just needed someone to fuck.

  "Who do you have available for me tonight?" I asked the owner, a sturdy man with a steel gray beard named Craig Varner.

  "It's a Friday night, so I'm afraid we're all booked up, my friend. If I'd known you were coming, I'd have reserved someone for you." Then, he looked thoughtful for a moment and said, "I do have a new girl I just hired today. She's about to come on shift, but she's completely untrained. Fucking vanilla as they come. Never done any bondage play, never done any prostitution or porn; hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the only sexual experience she had was the missionary position. Normally, I wouldn't even consider renting her out to a club member, but you're more skilled than some of my trainers, so if you wanted the challenge, I'd be willing to make an exception."

  "What's she look like?" I was intrigued. I'd been looking for an experienced BDSM slut to dominate and fuck the hell out of tonight, but the idea of training a new girl who'd never played before was strangely appealing. She was like a white paper that I could write anything on that I wished. No bad habits, no poor training – I could mold her to be my perfect sex slave if I wanted to, teach her to do everything exactly the way I wanted.

  "Take a look for yourself." Craig led me to his office and turned on the monitor that gave him access to all the rooms where a young woman paced the floor looking nervous. She was fucking stunning, and my dick grew hard instantly just looking at her. She had lush blonde hair that fell in thick waves down to the middle of her back. Her make-up was done a little too heavily, but in a way that told me was self-conscious about her looks and desperate to fit in. She was wearing a snug red blouse that could barely contain her huge tits and a black leather mini skirt that hugged her round ass cheeks to perfection. Her legs were long, lean, and golden tan, and she looked awkward and uncomfortable in the five-inch black heeled pumps she was wearing. She was perfect: a good girl desperately trying to look naughty and looking even more innocent because of it. She was ripe for training, eager to please, and sexy as hell.

  "I'll do it." I grinned at Craig. My cock was already throbbing was lust. This was going to be one hell of a fun night.

  Chapter Five: Olivia

  I walked back and forth across the hardwood floor, reviewing all my interview answers in my head. When I entered the hotel basement, I hadn't been prepared to find myself inside an underground BDSM club. Men and women were dressed in leather collars, metal shackles, and outrageous costumes. Whips and chains hung on the walls with sex toys that I'd never even heard of, let alone seen before. I knew instantly that I was out of my league. I was about to turn around and leave when a large man with a thick gray beard approached me. He was wearing black leather pants, boots, and a black leather vest, but when he smiled he had the friendliest eyes and I instinctively felt safe.

  "I'm Craig Varner, the Dungeon Keeper of this fine establishment. Welcome to Whip. Do you want to play the part of a dominant or a submissive?" he greeted me.

  "I'm Olivia Harte. My agent sent me here for a job." I flushed.

  He eyed me up and down appraisingly and then smiled. "Perfect. Please join me in my office."

  Once I was seated and the door was closed, he began asking me all sorts of personal questions about myself. Had I ever played bondage games? Did I like being tied up or spanked? Did I have any sexually transmitted diseases? How many partners had I had?

  For a brief moment I considered lying. After all, why would he hire someone as experienced as me, but then I realized that could get me in far worse trouble. If I got the job and he found out I had lied during my interview, I would surely get fired. If I was honest, however, no one would expect me to be better or more experienced than I really am and they might be more willing to cut me a break.

  "One," I answered meekly, staring at my feet as my cheeks blushed crimson.

  "One? It says here that you're twenty-one years old. How can you only have had one sexual partner?" Mr. Varner sounded dubious, and I knew I'd have to be totally honest with him to get him to consider hiring me.

  “He was my high school boyfriend, Scott. He was my first love and the only person I've ever dated. Right after graduation, he joined the army. He was going to serve four years and then when he got out, we were going to get married, so I saved myself for him. Whenever he came home on leave, we would make love. Nothing kinky or strange, just regular boy on top, girl on bottom stuff."

  "You mean you've never even been on top?" Mr. Varner's face was unreadable, and I wondered if he was going to yell at me for wasting his time or was just tryi
ng not to laugh. Mutely, I shook my head, and he asked me, "Have you at least given a blow job?"

  "Yes. Scott wanted me to, so I tried it once. It must have been okay because he, well you know..." I couldn't even say the word ejaculated, and I was so embarrassed I thought I might actually die from a heart attack or stroke. Still, I forced myself to stay seated in the chair and tried to appear as confident and capable as possible.

  "So, you and this guy are getting married soon?"

  I thought I was done having to talk about what happened between me and Scott when I left Ohio, but the humiliation followed me even here. Pressing my palms to my thighs, I said, "No. We broke up. It turns out that he wasn't saving himself for me like I was for him. I went to the army base to surprise him one weekend and walked in on him with another girl. It turns out they'd gotten married the weekend after I gave him my virginity. He'd tell her that he was coming home to visit his parents whenever he'd get leave time so he could bang me real quick and then go back home to his wife. I never even suspected a thing."

  Mr. Varner handed me a tissue so I could wipe the tears that had escaped my eyes. It made me angry that the son-of-a-bitch could still make me cry. I didn't even love him anymore. In fact, I wasn't sure that I ever had to begin with. The weekend I came back from that humiliating experience, I felt free for the first time since our engagement and it was then that I started making plans to come to California.

  "Look, kid. You're a sweet girl, but a little too naive for what we do here," Mr. Varner said, and I knew I'd blown it with my pathetic story.

  He stood up to open the door to kick me out, and I leapt from my chair to clutch at his arm. "Wait, please. I know I'm inexperienced, but I'm a fast learner and I'm dedicated. I'll work hard and I'm willing to do anything. I need this job. Please, I'm desperate for it."

  Mr. Varner paused and stared at me appraisingly. I wanted to curl up inside myself, but I forced myself to stand strong and meet his gaze. He needed to see that I was tough enough to handle this job. Finally, he spoke. "Okay. I'll give you a trial audition tonight and we'll see how you do. There's no way in hell you could play a dominant, but you’re naturally submissive, so I'm going to give you the role of a Dungeon Scullery Maid. You'll be assigned to Alcove Nine at the end of the south corridor. Any man or woman that enters that alcove will be our paying guest and will effectively be the boss of you. It is your duty to obey their every wish without hesitation or question. If they tell you to kiss their feet, you do it. If they tell you suck something, lick something, or bend over and take something, you do it. Are you up to the task, kid?"

  Holy shit. What had I gotten myself into? My father was right – I had become a whore, and not just a regular prostitute, but a dirty, kinky whore at a BDSM club. Shame filled me and I felt tears stinging my eyes, but I blinked them back. Then, I found the part of myself that was strong and fearless and refused to quit and used all my strength to push that shame down so deep that I couldn't feel its strangling hold on me anymore. Lifting my head, I looked Mr. Varner right in the eyes and said confidently, "Yes, I am. Send me your customers and I'll make them so happy they'll never want to leave."

  "Good girl. All right, you're hired." Mr. Varner went over safety procedures with me and told me my safe word was Red Light. Before then, I'd never even heard of safe words. Then, he showed me to Alcove Nine and closed the door. It was a much larger room than I would have expected, with a twin-sized bed in one corner, a shelf covered with a wide array of sex toys, and bright candles shining everywhere. Now, I paced the floor of the alcove, wondering what I had gotten myself into and seriously considering changing my mind.

  Suddenly, the door burst open and a man walked inside, closing it firmly behind him. He was incredibly handsome, with gray eyes and a chiseled jaw. He was wearing a very expensive suit, and for some reason, he looked vaguely familiar, although I couldn't figure out why.

  "Hi, I'm Ol-" I was beginning to introduce myself, when he cut me off with a fierce shout that made me jump and instantly fall silent.

  "Shut the hell up! I don't need to know anything about you, including your name, and you don't need to know mine. Whip promises total anonymity and that's what it delivers, unless you're too stupid to do that."

  His voice was so harsh and angry; it scared me, but when I took a moment to process what he had just said to me, I liked it. No one here would know my name and I wouldn't know theirs. It was a comfort to know that my identity would be completely confidential to everyone except the owner. It made what I knew I would have to do in here a little less unbearable.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't know," I stammered, and I felt myself shrinking under his harsh glare. His eyes were so filled with hostility, it was impossible not to be intimidated. Turning my gaze downward to my feet, I blushed and said, "It's my first day as a scullery maid. I don't know any of the rules."

  "Well, I'm here to teach them to you. Consider me your Boss, and whatever I say goes." He put his hand under my chin and lifted my face so I was forced to look into those hard eyes. With a low growl, he said, "Let me hear you say it."

  "You're my Boss. Whatever you say goes."

  "Good. You are my little Bitch. When I call your name, you are to respond, ‘Yes, Boss. How may I please you?’ Now let me hear you say it, you little Bitch."

  "Yes, Boss. How may I please you?" I repeated in a voice that was a meek whisper. He was so intimidating and he radiated such power and charisma, it was impossible not to cower in his presence.

  The Boss looked me up and down appraisingly and said, "Pull your hair back into a ponytail so I can see your face and wash all that make-up off. I want to be able to see who I'm hiring."

  There was a jar of rubber bands on the shelf nearby and a sink and mirror with some towels in the corner. Obediently, I did as I'd been bid and returned to him fresh faced with my hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  "Much better." The Boss caressed my cheek with surprising tenderness. His thumb brushed across my bottom lip sensuously, and I felt tingles of sexual excitement course through my body. "You're a beautiful girl,” he told me. “You have no reason to hide behind big hair and make-up. If I decide to keep you on, you will always appear before me like this, with your face fresh."

  "Yes, Boss. Whatever pleases you," I said, and he seemed to like it.

  Then he scowled again as he looked down at my clothes and said, "What are you wearing? Those clothes are cheap and tawdry and you look cheap and tawdry in them. Take them off."

  His brusque instructions startled me and I gasped. "All of them?"

  He lunged forward at me as if to strike me and growled, "Don't make me say it twice. Now, strip."

  I peeled off the outfit I had so carefully put together at home. I had thought it would make me look sexy and experienced; I guess I was wrong. When I was standing before him naked in my bare feet, I suddenly felt very small and vulnerable as he towered over me. I wrapped my arms over my chest, hugging my torso in a futile effort to cover myself.

  The Boss grabbed my wrists and pulled my arms behind my back. Before I even knew what was happening, he had slapped a pair of handcuffs over them, binding my arms behind me. As I struggled helpless in the cuffs, he said to me, "Never attempt to hide your body from me, little Bitch. These tits are gorgeous and I pay good money to be able to look at them. Your entire body is sexy as hell, and I want to enjoy it. From now on, when you are in here with me, you will be naked. If you fail to let me look at you, then I'll just have to restrain your arms behind your back like this. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Boss," I said meekly and ceased struggling. He stared at my body openly, and even though I was blushing furiously, I forced myself to stand still and let him do it. His eyes dilated, and I noticed a distinct bulge growing in his trousers that made me feel strangely glad. It was a good feeling knowing that someone as powerful as him felt attracted to me and thought I was beautiful and sexy. As his eyes kept drinking me in, I slowly became accustomed to his steel gaze and noticed that his
gray eyes weren't so much scary as they were passionate. There was a ton of emotion swirling in those deep eyes, like the ocean in a storm.

  I jumped at the sensation when he put his hands upon me, startled from my thoughts.

  "Relax, easy. I'm just going to feel your body," the Boss said in a soothing voice, and he rubbed his hands gently around my breasts, squeezing and caressing them. "You have fantastic skin, it's so soft and smooth; and you have great curves. I could get lost in these tits forever."

  Suddenly, he put his lips upon my breasts, and I gasped at the sensation. Scott had never done anything like this to me. He had always been about getting in and out as quickly as he could. Foreplay was an unknown word to him, and he never seemed to care if I enjoyed myself or not. The feeling of a man's firm lips upon the sensitive flesh of my tender breasts took my breath away.

  I closed my eyes and sighed as the Boss kissed around my large breasts in a wide circle, working his way towards my nipples in the center. When he got to them, he surprised me by lapping his tongue across them. Instantly, my large round nipples puckered into taut little nubs and a tingling sensation rushed through my body and radiated in my groin. I knew at once I was experiencing sexual pleasure and I liked it. My breathing quickened into rapid panting as he continued to pleasure my tits, and then I felt his hands move down my body and touch my thighs.

  "Spread your legs," he commanded forcefully. I knew I had promised to obey every command when I took the job, however, I couldn't help but hesitate. I had only been touched down there by one other man, and it had been okay at best. Why should I let this stranger touch my most intimate place?

  "Do you want to get paid or not?" he growled at me, and his gray eyes had hardened into steel. "Don't forget who the Boss is, you little Bitch. When I give an order, you fucking do it. You got that?"

  "Yes, Boss, whatever pleases you," I said meekly and spread my thighs. I could have just quit then and there and walked out. I could have just used my safe word and left, but I didn't. I realized that deep down inside, I didn't want to. More than just needing the money, I wanted to discover what wonderful pleasures he could make my body feel. He'd already given me more erotic pleasure just touching my breasts than Scott had in all the times we'd had sex. I could just imagine what wonders he might have in store for me if I let him keep going – but to find out, I would have to obey his commands.