by Amy Valenti
“Hey, Scarlett.”
Her heart took off like a horse out of the gate and for a minute all she could do was stare. When he’d dropped her off earlier in the day he’d been wearing sweats and a hoodie, and they’d both acted strangely shy in the car. She’d been exhausted and Wesley had seemed distant. He’d given her a chaste kiss on the cheek at her door and then he’d been gone.
But he was here now, showered, wearing a black shirt and dark-wash jeans. His hair was still a sexy tousled mess, a shadow of dark beard on his cheeks. And all of it—Wesley—took her breath away. There was no way she was backing out of anything now.
“May I come in?” He gave her a crooked smile. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about tonight?”
“No…I mean, yes. Come in.” She stood back and Wesley walked into her apartment. She caught his scent as he moved past her: something clean and fresh. Beneath that was Wesley’s own deep, rich scent, the scent she remembered from the night before. It brought back a rush of images, and the heat that went with those images. It took her a minute to realize Wesley was talking to her.
“Have you changed your mind? It’s okay if you have. We can just go…”
“No. I haven’t changed my mind.” She took a step toward him, placing her hand on his arm. “I still want this…whatever it turns out to be.”
Wesley smiled and she caught a look of relief in that smile. So he’d been looking forward to this just as much as she was.
“You look really nice, Scarlett. Really.” His eyes traveled over her body, lingering at the neckline of her shirt, glancing down at her hips.
“Is this okay? Because I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
He laughed. “There’s no dress code. As long as you’re comfortable, things will be great.”
“Okay.”
He leaned forward, his lips brushing against hers. The touch sent an electric shock through her body and she reached to wrap her arms around his neck, eagerly seeking his mouth. But he pulled back.
“Not yet.” The heat she saw in his eyes was a direct contradiction to his words. “We need to talk about what you expect—and what I want you to experience—tonight.”
She kept her arms around his neck, but he straightening, putting space between them. She wanted to pull him back down to her again, to feel his lips on hers, but she stood in the circle of his arms, waiting, wondering what he was going to say.
“You liked being restrained, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “I did…do, I mean.”
“I think I’d like to explore that with you. The owner of the club does intricate knot work. His sessions are very intense. I’m not that creative.” He breathed out a soft laugh. “Actually, I’m not that patient.”
“What does he do? I mean, does he tie them up and then have sex?”
“There are a lot of different techniques, or preferences, I guess. He does some beautiful work. I watched him with a session with a woman…” Wesley’s eyes drifted away from her face and his voice dropped. “He had her restrained with this beautiful white rope, arms out, legs spread.”
He looked into her eyes, his hands tightening around her waist. “It was the single most erotic thing I’ve ever watched. She was completely under his control, physically and emotionally, and he was totally into what he was doing. She went off into some sort of trance toward the end. It was amazing. And yeah, it did go all the way to sex.”
Scarlett watched his face, watched his expression change, the heat in his eyes deepen. Her own heart took off again, her breath coming up shallow. Whatever he saw must have been amazing. Suddenly Scarlett wanted to be that girl, whoever she was, the one Wesley had watched. An irrational spear of jealousy pierced her heart.
“Is that what I could have? With you?” Images of being tied to Wesley’s bed rose up in her mind. She had been that girl, and she wanted that again.
Wesley pulled her a little closer. “I have no idea what will happen, Scarlett. Each time is different. Each person is different.” He looked down at her. “It’s all new for me, too…with you. It’s part of the thrill.”
“Is that why you don’t…play with those other women more than once?” The word play seemed foreign, out of place.
For a moment, Wesley’s eyebrows drew together, his eyes darkening. Scarlett had a moment of panic, wondering if she’d said the wrong thing, gotten too personal with her question.
“I’m sorry…”
He shook his head, his expression clearing. “It’s okay. Fair question, I guess.” He shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’ve never put much thought into it.”
Scarlett wondered if she’d gone too far, stepped across some line with Wesley. She hardly knew him, and she had no place to question his lifestyle.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “But I can tell you that it’ll be something you’ll never forget.”
She closed her eyes briefly, smiling, breathing in his scent. “I’m sure it will be.”
“Then if you’re ready, I think we can go.”
“I’m ready.” She took a step back but he still held her, looking at her intently. She frowned at him. “What?”
“I want to do something first.”
A thrill ran through her. “What?” Her voice sounded almost giddy. She took a deep breath, but she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.
Wesley reached up, fingers running through her hair, pulling it away from her face. “I’d like to put your hair up.”
“Oh.” She blinked, her smile fading. “Is that all?”
Wesley laughed. “Don’t look so disappointed. I’ll tell you a secret.” He leaned forward, fingers brushing against her cheek. “I like the back of your neck. It’s sexy.”
Scarlett felt herself blush. “Really? The back of my neck?”
“Yeah. The back of your neck, among other things.” He smiled, dimples and all. “Come on, let’s find a brush and some bobby pins.”
She returned the smile and turned toward the bathroom, Wesley following her.
“Stand in front of the mirror.” He took her by the shoulders, turning her to face her reflection.
“Have you done this before?” She met Wesley’s eyes in the mirror.
“I have.” The brush was still on the counter and Wesley picked it up. “Pins?”
She reached down, opening the drawer beside the sink. “In there.”
For the next few moments, Wesley brushed her hair, gathering it behind her head in a thick ponytail. With a few deft movements he twisted her hair into a knot. A few pins went in and he stepped back.
“Done.”
Scarlett turned her head to the side. He’d gathered her hair into a knot low on her neck. “Pretty damn perfect.” She caught Wesley’s eyes in the mirror, and his smile. His eyes lingered on hers a moment, then drifted to the back of her neck. She watched as he lifted his hand and then she felt his fingers lightly tracing a line along the nape of her neck. Goosebumps flushed across her arms and she leaned back, closing her eyes, seeking more contact. But Wesley pulled away and she lost her balance, staggering slightly. She felt his hand on her elbow.
“Then I think we can go.”
Opening her eyes, she turned to look at Wesley. “Did I do something wrong?”
A brief look of surprise crossed his face, his brows drawing down. “No. You’re perfect.”
“Then…” She motioned to the space between them. “You’re…distant, I guess. I feel like I did something wrong.”
The frown on his face deepened, a darkness coming into his eyes. “Come here.” He took her hand, leading her into the living room. “Sit down a minute.”
He motioned toward the couch and she sat down, Wesley dropping down beside her. “Listen, Scarlett, this is all new for you. It’s new for me too, in a way. Like I said before I usually find girls at the club. I might have seen them, or met them once or twice, but for the most part, they’re strangers. And that’s how I do things.”
“I’m cramping your style?”
“No, not at all.” He reached over and took her hand. “It’s just new, that’s all. I don’t usually have to talk girls through this.”
“So I am cramping your style. You don’t have to lie to me, Wesley.”
“I’m not lying. I want this, as much as you do. Maybe more. I want your first time to be as amazing as it can be. So maybe I’m feeling a little bit of pressure, or performance anxiety, or something.” He squeezed her hand, his eyes locked with hers. “But I’m in this for you, Scarlett. I’m in this with you.”
Chapter Seven
Wesley turned down a side street, passing through an area of town Scarlett had never seen before. She looked up at the building as they passed, dark storefronts, abandoned-looking industrial buildings. “It’s an odd place for a club, isn’t it?”
“The owner, Chase Mitchell, is kind of an unusual guy. You might get a chance to meet him. He’s usually out with the crowd, if he’s not in a room or running a session.”
She folded her hands in her lap, trying to stop the trembling that had started a few blocks before. Wesley had explained to her the difference between open sessions and closed ones.
“Sometimes it’s planned. Sometimes it’s just a spur of the moment thing, both players decide they want an audience. It’s not for everyone…” He glanced over at her, then back at the road. “It’s up to you.”
“Do you have a preference?” His face went in and out of shadow, impossible to read, as they drove beneath streetlights. She hoped to hell he didn’t want a public thing, session…playtime, whatever. Taking her clothes off in front of one stranger was one thing; in front of a room of them was another.
“I do, but this is your night.” She caught the flash of a grin.
“Private.”
“Okay. Private it is.” They drove in silence for a few minutes. “I do have some ideas though for tonight. You said you didn’t know anything about Dominants and submissives…Doms and subs. Do you want to learn?”
“Yes.”
“In simple terms, Dominants control submissives, within limits. Sometimes couples like to do this during play. Sometimes it’s all the time.”
Scarlett wondered what kind of woman would let a man control her, not just during sex, but in everyday life. Somehow it seemed wrong, to give up control to someone else. Then it dawned on her she was going to a club with a man who might want to control her. She wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted from this night.
“So the sub is basically just a doormat, letting a man push her around, do whatever he wants?”
Wesley shot her a look she couldn’t quite read. “No, not at all. It’s an exchange of power, sure, but it’s something both people agree to. Subs give up control willingly, not against their will. And Dominants never take that submission for granted. Ever. Even during casual sessions.”
“Are you a Dominant?”
Wesley shrugged. “Depends on who I’m with. Some women like to be submissive. Some just want to play at it, like the girls who come to Diablo. For the fantasy. They’re not serious about it.”
“If you had the choice though, would you be a Dom?”
He stole a glance at her. “You mean full-time?” He shrugged again, abruptly, more of a reflex. She had the feeling she’d crossed that line again with Wesley. She wished she could figure out where that line was, and how to avoid it. But if she was going to find that line, she’d have to push him.
“Yeah. Full-time.” She paused, waiting for the shrug again. There it was. He lifted his shoulder as they pulled up to a red light.
“I’ve thought about it, sometimes.” He tapped his fingers on the wheel, watching the light. “But that’s not important right now.” The light changed and he hit the gas. She was pretty sure she’d found the line, and taken Wesley right up to it. But now probably wasn’t the best time to take it any further.
“So what do you want to do tonight? You said you had some ideas.”
“We’re here.” Wesley pulled up in front of what looked like an abandoned building. The windows on the ground floor were dark, the rest of the building rising up against the gray night sky.
Wesley came around and opened the car door for her. She shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it onto the front seat. She was warm, the night was warm, and the last thing she wanted was to be worrying about if she was sweating. All she had in her hands was her purse and she clutched it as if it were a lifeline. Wesley reached behind her, pulling a black leather bag from the backseat.
“What’s that?” She eyed the bag, pretty sure it held something Wesley intended to use tonight. Her mind wasn’t quite ready to think about what he might have in there, especially standing on the sidewalk in a slightly dangerous looking neighborhood.
There was a scrape on the sidewalk behind her and Scarlett jumped as a large man stepped from the shadows of the front door. She slipped behind Wesley, expecting the man to grab her purse. But Wesley greeted the man by name. She watched as Wesley handed over his car keys.
“A surprise.”
“This is it?” She looked up at the building. Standing on the sidewalk it looked scary and forbidding. The valet drove Wesley’s car away, disappearing around the corner.
“Valet parking? Nice.”
“It’s a pretty exclusive club. There’s a waiting list to get a membership.”
Wesley opened the heavy club door, holding it for Scarlett. A tall man inside consulted a list, apparently verifying their names. He smiled, nodded, and then Wesley took her down a narrow hall.
The hallway was dim, opening into a large lounge. From somewhere she heard music, felt the deep throbbing of the bass through the floor. There were people scattered around the room, some couples, a couple of groups. As they walked through the room Scarlett noticed a few of the men, and women, looking at her, smiling at her.
It wasn’t something she was used to, having strange men—or women—looking her with such frank admiration. It made her uncomfortable for a few minutes, but then she realized they were enjoying what they saw, that she was turning heads.
“Hey, stranger. Wesley, it’s been too long.” A woman’s voice carried across the lounge.
Scarlett turned, expecting the owner of the voice to be some kind of giantess. Instead she dropped her gaze down to a petite blonde woman crossing the room toward them.
“Stacy.” Wesley stopped and turned. Scarlett caught the smile of recognition on his face.
The woman arrived and rose up to plant a big kiss on Wesley’s cheek. He pulled her into a brief hug and then turned to Scarlett.
“This is Scarlett. Scarlett, this is Stacy. She’s in charge here, when Chase isn’t around.”
“Hell, I’m in charge even when he is here. You know what it’s like around this place.” She turned her bright blue eyes to Scarlett.
“This is Scarlett’s first time here.” Wesley slipped his arm around her waist, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip, snugging her close to him.
“Actually this is my first time...” She looked up at Wesley. “My first time in a club like this.”
“Well, you’re in good hands.” Stacy turned to Wesley. “Any room in particular?”
“Is the St. Andrew’s room open?”
“It is. If you’ll follow me.” Stacy turned, giving them a full view of her back as she led them through the lounge. Thin ribbons crisscrossed Stacy’s bare skin, seemingly attached only to her skin. Scarlett gasped.
Stacy glanced back over her shoulder, a saucy grin on her face.
“Corset piercing.” She laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s just play piercing. I’ll take these out in about a week.”
Scarlett wanted to stop, to look at Stacy’s back. “You mean those are attached to you?”
“Yup. Each side has ten captive bead rings, laced up with ribbon.” They turned down a hallway. There were archways along the hall, some covered with curtains, some open. They walked past a group standing by an open archwa
y. Scarlett couldn’t see inside, but she heard what sounded like moaning. But her attention was still on Stacy’s back.
“Didn’t that hurt?” Scarlett couldn’t imagine willingly having someone put holes in their skin, especially just for a week. “That seems like an awful lot of pain for just play.”
Stacy glanced back again, this time at Wesley.
“You sure you’re up for this one, Wesley?” Scarlett didn’t miss the smile on her face or the laugh in her voice. Then she heard Wesley’s low laugh beside her.
Scarlett looked at Wesley, perplexed. “Did I say something funny?”
“Yeah, Scarlett. You did.” He took her hand, squeezed it gently, still smiling.
“Here we are.” Stacy stopped in front of one of the arches. With a flourish she pulled back the curtain. Wesley’s hand was on the small of her back and he ushered her through.
“I see you brought your own things. Is there anything else you need?”
Scarlett stopped, staring, Stacy’s and Wesley’s voices fading away. A huge wooden X-shaped cross stood in the middle of the room, bolted to the floor. Her eyes followed the arms of the structure, wondering how this fit into Wesley’s plans. Then she saw the restraints, leather bands with buckles, on each arm of the cross. Her heart began racing and she suddenly saw herself, strapped naked to the cross, totally at Wesley’s mercy. Her breath stuck in her throat. This was it, if she wanted out, this was the time to back out and leave.
But she didn’t want that. She wanted the touch of the leather on her skin, to feel the bite of the restraint as she pulled against it. It had to hurt more than silk did.
“Scarlett? You okay?”
Scarlett turned, meeting Wesley’s gaze. “I’m fine.”
“If you’re not ready…” There was nothing in his expression that gave away how he felt, if he wanted her to stay or not. But she knew her answer.
“I’m ready.”
He held her gaze a moment longer and then he smiled, dimples flashing. “Okay, then. Let’s get started.”
