Wolfe's Lair

by Alice Raine

  Bloody hell, I could hardly get my mind around all of this. Not only had I spent the night chatting to a dominant who wanted me to explore more physical things with him – whatever the hell that meant – Sasha had hooked up with a guy, and Chloe, the prude of our house, had found interest in some random rope guy. How we’d all changed! Well, not Sasha; her behaviour was pretty much run of the mill.

  ‘Anyway … what I was trying to say, was that Samuel was really shocked when he saw Oliver leading you off by the hand.’

  Now that sounded interesting. ‘Why?’

  Sasha retook her seat and gave me a smug smile. ‘He said Oliver never mixes with the customers, and never ever makes public displays of affection like that. Reckoned it was the first time he’d seen him with a woman in years.’

  OK, so she definitely had my attention now.

  ‘Oliver hinted that he didn’t date, but he didn’t say why. Did Samuel give you any more details?’

  Sasha shook her head. ‘It was loud, so difficult to hear, but no, I don’t think so. He just seemed really surprised to see Oliver approaching you.’

  Hmm. And he’d held my hand three times now, which if he didn’t do public displays of affection was probably quite symbolic.

  Sasha’s eyes narrowed, then she turned to me and grinned broad and wide. ‘Fuck it, you should totally do it, Robyn. Do some “physical research” with him, see where it leads.’ She even used her fingers to make speech marks as she spoke, but I was already shaking my head.

  ‘Are you totally insane?’ I screeched, before clapping a hand over my mouth so I didn’t wake Chloe.

  ‘I am a bit insane,’ she conceded with another smile, ‘but he’s hot and probably wants to show you a whole other world of pleasure. He’d be good in bed, I’m sure of it. He’s older and he’s got that competent look about him.’ Well, if anyone would know, it would be Sasha and her vast bedroom experience. ‘Actually, now I think about it Samuel said Oliver has a good rep in the sack.’

  ‘What? How the hell would Samuel know about Oliver’s capabilities? Is he … are they … have they slept together?’ My voice was hoarse and dry, I totally couldn’t imagine Oliver in bed with a guy.

  ‘No!’ Sasha laughed. ‘Although Sam said sexual freedom is quite common amongst the members of the club, but no, he just told me that when Oliver used to partake in club stuff he was really well respected amongst the members. He hasn’t had a sub for ages, but the rumours are that he was an amazing dominant and lover back when he used to play. Controlled and really strict, but always abiding by the rules of safe, sane, and consensual.’

  Wow. Okay then. I suddenly felt warm. Too warm. I could totally imagine Oliver being controlled. He was always so correct and dignified, and I had no problem whatsoever imagining that he’d be a good lover – something about his confidence and grace just implied it – but strict? He’d never appeared overly strict in our interactions. Although thinking about it, I had seen a colder, harder side to him when he’d talked to Dominic. He’d been pretty severe then, but at the time I hadn’t minded because it wasn’t directed at me.

  I chewed on my lip, unsure as to whether the thought of him being masterful and commanding with me scared me or aroused me. From the way I suddenly had to fidget in my seat to calm the ache between my legs, I suspected the latter. Not that it mattered, I told myself firmly. I had enough research for my book now, I didn’t need to go back to Club Twist any more.

  ‘How long has it been since you got laid?’ Sasha asked from beside me, breaking me from my reverie. ‘Way toooo long. That’s how long,’ she answered with a grimace, not giving me the chance to give a more precise reply, but to be fair she was right. With my little period of celibacy, it had been an absolute age since I’d gone to bed with anything other than my right hand or battery-operated boyfriend.

  ‘No,’ I replied firmly, causing Sasha to flash me a devious look. ‘No, Sasha, I mean it. I’m not going back there again.’ But even as I spoke I wasn’t entirely sure who I was trying to convince, Sasha or myself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Robyn

  It was the following Friday night, and I sat surrounded by notes, photographs, and sketches, attempting to work on a chapter of my book. Unfortunately, it involved writing about the charismatic bar owner that I was basing roughly around Oliver, and instead of thinking about my actual character, I couldn’t get him out of my head, the real him. Oliver Wolfe, the man who had turned me on beyond all belief with just a few intimate gazes and whispered words, and who I had then walked away from.

  After twenty very unproductive minutes of getting myself decidedly hot and bothered, I gave up writing and wandered to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for bed.

  It didn’t really occur to me what I was putting on as I dressed after my shower, but it certainly wasn’t my pyjamas. Then, dressed to impress, I found myself wandering to the lounge just in time to meet up with Sasha and Chloe, who were heading out to Club Twist.

  ‘You changed your mind about meeting up with your hunky Dom, then?’ Sasha enquired with a cheeky grin and a waggle of her eyebrows.

  ‘He’s not my Dom,’ I corrected her snappily.

  ‘Not yet, but I bet he could be if you wanted him to be,’ she teased. She sashayed her way over to me and bumped her hips with mine, but I folded my arms defensively, too confused about my feelings for Oliver to be in the mood to play along.

  ‘I don’t want him to be,’ I stated, wondering why the words felt a little less convincing than they should have been. ‘It’s Friday night, I’m just coming out for a drink with you guys.’

  ‘Sure you are.’ Sasha and Chloe exchanged an amused glance, then Sasha pulled open the front door and waved her arm to get us to leave. ‘Have a chat with him if he’s there, see how you feel. You said you were attracted to him, so you could give it a go. You never know, you might like it.’

  Hmm. Yes, I might. I think that was what was worrying me.

  So, after adamantly declaring that I wouldn’t be coming back, here I was, using up guest pass three of ten, perching on my usual seat at the bar and completely and utterly shitting myself. I had hardly left things with Oliver on a good note last week, I’d been freaking out and it had ended up feeling horribly tense, but I couldn’t deny the thing that had occupied my mind most of the week, and was currently dominating my thoughts – the simple fact that I wanted to see him again.

  The only problem was, he wasn’t here. According to David – the tattooed guy behind the bar tonight – Oliver wasn’t even on the premises. So I sat feeling like a right lemon while Sasha and Chloe burned off some calories dancing. What the hell was I doing? Had I seriously been thinking about saying yes to him?

  Taking a hearty swig of wine to try and calm my nerves, I looked around and watched with interest as a man and woman entered and sat in a booth opposite me. They spoke for several moments, the man’s head bowed reverently, then he slipped to the floor and took up a kneeling position at her side.

  The woman smiled appreciatively and stroked his head, almost like you would pat a dog, and in response he looked up at her with an adoring smile. Wow. I couldn’t drag my eyes away as I frowned at the whole exchange. How very bizarre.

  ‘Confused? That’s the type of thing I would have explained to you, if you had taken up my offer last week.’

  Oliver’s voice beside my ear was so unexpected that I yelped, and sloshed my wine over the rim of my glass, soaking the knee of my jeans in the process. Pulling in a steadying breath, I swivelled on my stool and found him standing close beside me, his proximity once again doing insane things to my insides and giving me a sharp reminder of why I had come back here again tonight. He affected me more than any man I’d ever met, and as much as that terrified me, it fascinated me, too.

  ‘H –hi, Oliver.’ My voice was scratchy from nerves, so I cleared my throat and swallowed, even though it probably wouldn’t help.

  Oliver, however, went a step further than my simp
le greeting, and picked up my free hand before dramatically pulling it to his lips and placing a lingering kiss on my knuckles. ‘Good evening, Robyn with a y.’

  The gesture might seem over the top coming from some people, but Oliver, with his sharp suits, suave manners, and slight Spanish accent, pulled it off to perfection, and instead of feeling embarrassed by it, I found myself swooning and ridiculously flattered by the attention.

  ‘I didn’t think you were here tonight,’ I murmured quietly.

  ‘I wasn’t, but David messaged me and said that a beautiful brunette named Robyn was at the bar asking after me, so, seeing as I was just around the corner I decided to pop in.’

  He’d come down just for me? ‘I’m … I’m glad you did,’ I confessed quietly, really not sure what I was getting myself into, but somehow finding myself unable to resist this man.

  At my words Oliver’s expression visibly altered for a second or so. He looked thrilled by my admission, then he nodded with a soft smile. ‘As am I,’ he agreed, before turning to David and ordering us a round of drinks.

  While he was busy at the bar I remembered my earlier fascination with the couple across from me, so turned to watch them again. The man was still on the floor, and the woman was still stroking his hair, but now she was also talking to a friend who had joined them.

  Once Oliver had handed me a drink and taken the stool beside me, I indicated to the couple. ‘So why is he kneeling for her then? Is that part of submission?’

  Oliver took a sip of his drink and nodded. ‘It can be, yes. The degree to which couples live the lifestyle is obviously very personal, but in general, kneeling at someone’s feet is the ultimate show of respect and submission.’

  ‘So she’s in charge?’

  ‘Indeed, in this relationship she’s the Domme. And he is about to get in trouble, I believe,’ Oliver added with a low chuckle.

  Watching them again, I couldn’t see anything different about their positions. Seeing the confusion on my face, Oliver leaned closer to me, to explain. ‘Just a second ago when she was speaking to him, he rolled his eyes at something she said. That won’t go down well.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because in here, Robyn, we have certain rules, a certain …’ Oliver waved a hand in the air as he searched for the correct word. ‘Etiquette. If he has agreed to be with her as her submissive, then when they are inside Club Twist he should act that role accordingly, or expect a punishment.’

  Aware of Oliver watching me intently, I eventually managed to drag my eyes away from the couple and turn to him.

  ‘It goes both ways,’ he continued. ‘As his Domme, she must care for and protect him in here, and if she didn’t, then a member of the management team would step in.’

  ‘It’s really that strict?’

  ‘Absolutely. It’s one of the reasons that David runs such a successful club.’ Oliver took a sip of his drink, but just like last week, his eyes never left mine. The concentration he focused on me was quite overwhelming. ‘What they do in private is their own business, but here, they should respect the lifestyle.’

  As he finished speaking, a loud slapping noise rang out to my left, and I jerked my head back in time to see the man receiving a firm spank on his leather-clad arse. Then another, and finally a third. Once done, the woman retook her seat, and the man folded back to his knees beside her looking remorseful.

  Wow. This was just a whole other world, wasn’t it?

  As I continued to watch them, I couldn’t imagine it appealing to me. Then an image of Oliver standing over me flashed in my mind, and the possessive look in his eye began to make me change my mind. Perhaps it wasn’t just about the position, but about who you shared it with, because the idea of kneeling at Oliver’s feet was nowhere near as scary as it probably should have been.

  ‘This is where that hands-on practice I offered would have helped you understand better. To truly understand what he is feeling as he kneels at her feet, you need to experience it.’

  I took a sip of my drink and nodded jerkily. My throat felt parched, but I knew that I was already damp between my legs just from discussing this with Oliver.

  ‘You look curious. Have you changed your mind, Robyn? Would you like to see the positions? Try them out?’

  As insane as it seemed, I was tempted, but there was one thing holding me back – Chloe’s comment from last weekend was still playing on my mind. ‘Are you married?’ I blurted awkwardly. I’d been wondering all week if perhaps that was how things worked here – people used the club for sex, but still maintained a normal life beyond the doors. Did Oliver have an unaware family waiting in at home for him?

  His eyebrows rose considerably, then he tilted his head to observe me. ‘No. I told you last week that I hadn’t dated for a significant time, but perhaps I should have clarified that also means I haven’t married anyone in that time either, hmm?’ He was using that teasing tone again, and from his relaxed demeanour I decided on the spot that Chloe’s concerns had been unfounded.

  ‘Sorry, my housemate Chloe said she remembered seeing you in Williams Risk Management – she works there – and she saw you with a blonde woman, and I just jumped to conclusions, I guess.’

  ‘No wife. No girlfriend,’ he confirmed mildly. ‘Just a flaring interest in the beautiful brunette sitting opposite me.’

  I was so crappy at accepting compliments that my cheeks flooded with heat, and I found myself biting down on my lower lip and dropping my gaze away from his.

  ‘So, back to our earlier conversation … You’re tempted with a little exploration, yes?’

  I gave a slight shrug, which was almost a nod, and saw Oliver smile in response. ‘You’re hesitant, which is completely understandable,’ he soothed, resting a hand on my shoulder. I think his touch was supposed to be calming, but the heat from his skin did its usual and jacked my heart rate up, causing my hot flush to spread from my face and envelop my entire body. ‘You can remain fully clothed, if you wish. Think of it as another level of research …’

  ‘Just for research?’ I asked weakly, knowing that I was close to giving in to his persuasion, and also knowing that regardless of what I said, this had chuff all to do with my research. I wanted to see Oliver in that more domineering role, end of. The idea of it was turning me on immensely. He was turning me on immensely.

  ‘If that’s all you want, then yes,’ he replied with a nod. Which surely implied that he wanted more, didn’t it?

  ‘And you’ll behave yourself?’

  I had been completely serious in my question, but in response Oliver laughed, the sound vibrating through my body and sending a shiver straight to my core. ‘Spoilsport. But if I must, then yes, of course.’

  Oh hell, you only live once, don’t you?

  ‘OK then.’ My voice was no more than a tiny squeak, but Oliver looked genuinely thrilled by my acceptance. After knocking back his remaining whisky, he stood, smoothed down his suit, and held out a hand for me again.

  ‘Let’s go somewhere private.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Robyn

  The connection fizzed and rolled between us as he guided me through the club in the direction of the entrance. Just before the corridor that led to the main doors, Oliver paused by a thick velvet curtain, and pulled it back to reveal a second corridor. I remembered this from my tour – this was where the private rooms were located, and my stomach clenched with nerves.

  As anxious as I was feeling, I managed to follow him in silence, keeping a tight grip on his hand as we walked past door after door, all of which were closed. Each one had a small bronze number upon it, much like a hotel would – one that rents rooms by the hour – but we didn’t stop at any of them. Instead, Oliver led me through a door marked “private” and up a small staircase before coming to a halt.

  ‘This is my office,’ he remarked as he typed in a code on a small keypad then pushed open the door for me. ‘I thought you might feel more comfortable in here.’

  I was t
ouched by his thoughtfulness, and felt myself relax as I looked around. It was larger than I’d expected, furnished with a huge wooden desk, a thick rug below our feet, and several antique bookcases which lined the walls. Despite its size, it had a cosy feel about it. ‘Sorry about the mess, I wasn’t expecting company,’ he murmured, as he swapped the main light for several lamps dotted about. I let out a dry chuckle at his comment, because apart from some paperwork on the desk, there didn’t seem to be any mess at all. It was neat, organised, clean, and fitted perfectly with the control freak personality that he’d told me about.

  Once I had finished looking around his room, I glanced back at Oliver and found that he had removed his jacket and was now in the process of rolling up his shirt sleeves. My throat dried, and my eyes were magnetically drawn to the way he folded his sleeves, creating perfect rolls effortlessly, and making the task seem so much more sexual than I’d ever considered it before.

  My pulse rose with each smooth action of his hands, until it was roaring in my ears and almost deafening me. I’d never had a particular attraction to forearms, but God, Oliver’s were something else. There was a dusting of dark hair over his beautifully warm tan, and I could see the muscles rippling below the surface as he worked on his sleeves hinting at just how in shape he was below his clothing.

  I let out a shaky breath, and drew my gaze back to his face, finding that his eyes hadn’t left mine. He was now staring at me with such intensity that it made me shudder, as I desperately wondered again what the heck I was doing up here with him.

  Apparently seeing my concern, he gave me a reassuring smile, but somehow, on his devilishly handsome face it just seemed sinful and darkly dangerous. ‘Don’t look so worried, Robyn. You can trust me. You may keep your clothes on. I was just warm, so decided to remove my jacket, that’s all.’