Why not? rang in her head again.
“Stop fighting yourself, Colleen. We’re older. Wiser. You’re a rich widow and I’m a washed-up ball player. Why not give us a second chance?”
Colleen’s hand was on the doorknob as she considered his words. “Chase, I’m not who you think I am.” Hell, if she thought he could handle it, she’d drag him down to the dungeon right now and show him what he was missing. But it would only solidify in his mind that she had been cheating on him all those years ago. She couldn’t go back to vanilla sex and be satisfied. He would need to accept the kink that ruled her sex life. And accept her dominating him.
Would he?
Colleen’s eyes narrowed. It might work—if she came on strong enough that he just reacted to her instead of thinking about what she was doing.
There was that one night when they were drunk and she’d sat on his face and nearly smothered him while she came. While he had been gasping for breath, she switched positions on him. Rode his cock, just using him to come again. Colleen licked her lips.
“What are you thinking about?” His voice was low and dirty. Chase crossed the room to her.
She tossed her suit jacket on the chair. It was too warm in here. Her breasts ached and her pussy throbbed from the memory of that hot night. What had come after involved candle wax and rough sex.
Yeah, he liked the kink that night.
Of course, he had tied her up with his belt, not the other way around.
“Let’s get to know each other all over again. This”—Chase gestured between them—”is something I have never felt with anyone else.” He cupped her face in his hands. Kissed her sweetly. A soft brush of his lips that burned into her heart. “I want you.”
Damn it. The feeling is mutual.
“You think you want me,” she said. “But you can’t handle me.”
She wanted to make him pay for those cheerleader skanks. Colleen wanted to tie him down to the bed and force him to make it up to her before she allowed him to come.
“Try me.” He muscled her flat against the door with a heavy thump. She fought the urge to giggle hysterically because she was pretty sure Nefertiti had an ear to the door.
“You’re going to be disappointed. And I won’t let you hurt me again.” Colleen crossed her arms over her chest.
Chase uncrossed them and held her arms captive over her head.
Oh no. You didn’t.
But this time his kiss was all persuasion instead of demand. Colleen let him hold her still because she wanted the magic his mouth promised. But if he thought this was the norm, she was going to have him on his knees. If she wouldn’t bottom for an experienced Dom, she’d be damned if she’d let Chase Fairwood call all the shots in the bedroom.
And that’s when it hit her. She was actually considering this. Maybe she could have Chase, play with him, and dominate him. In the end, he’d leave because it wasn’t his kink to be submissive. And in the meantime, she could get this lust, this leftover emotion from her long-dead past, out of both their systems.
“That’s an evil grin,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth.
“You want a shot at me?” she asked, pulling her arms out of his grip.
“More than anything.” He rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb. She bit it. “Ow, you like to bite?”
You have no idea.
“Come to the Hot Spot Friday night,” she said, referring to Couture’s sexy dance club. On normal nights, it was just beautiful people drinking Cristal and being seen. But once a month she turned up the heat to see if any of her fashionistas were interested in a wilder version of play. If they were, they might be interviewed to have access to Club Inferno, the dungeons below the fashion resort.
“I’ll make sure the bouncers know to admit you. We’re having a special party. It’s guaranteed to blow your mind. If you can handle it, we’ll talk about taking it to the next level. But I think you’re in way over your head, Fairwood.”
“If I spend all night with you at the dance club, you’ll give me a membership to Couture?” He angled his head at her. “My knee won’t let me dance for very long.”
“Then you can sit and watch.” Colleen opened the door. “Take it or leave it.”
“Oh, I’ll take it,” he vowed. Trailing his fingers over her cheek, he blew her a kiss and walked out.
Chapter 2
“Go back to the part where he Dommed you,” Anya said. “Because that’s never going to get old.”
It was midweek, and Colleen sat across from her best friend, picking at her cucumber yogurt salad. They were at Couture’s Middle Eastern restaurant having lunch before the launch of their Fierocity clothing line. Anya was digging into her chicken shawarma as if the fate of the project they’d spent most of the year on wasn’t about to be attacked by viperous harpies who made Internet trolling an art form.
“He still thinks I’m this stupid twenty-year-old piece of fluff who gets all wiggly-kneed when he flexes his muscles.”
Anya shrugged. “At least he doesn’t think you’re a thirty-year-old dipshit.”
“How can you sit there and be so calm?” Colleen pointed an accusatory fork at her.
“Because I go for my final fitting with Marisol after lunch. So even if I’m a little bloated, she’ll sew around the poofiness.” Anya poked at her tummy. “Also Spanx, baby.”
Colleen held her head. “I need a paper bag.”
“To barf or blow in?”
“To put over my head if this thing tanks.”
Anya tapped her fork on her plate. “So what if it does? Chalk it up as a loss and move on to the next big thing in your life. What is it this week? Licorice bindings for the sub with a sweet tooth? Lighten up. You’re the idea chick.”
Colleen didn’t want to tell her that lately the ideas had been drying up and the past few failures had really shaken her confidence. It seemed like she was the media’s favorite object to ridicule, like a living dumb-blond joke.
“What if you get out there in our pink skull suit and they boo? Or worse, laugh? Or worse than that, don’t pay attention?”
Anya ticked off the responses on her fingers. “If they boo, I’ll shoot them the bird or flash them a tit. If they laugh, I’ll have Clint beat them up. And if they don’t pay attention, I’ll do a striptease.”
Colleen raised her head, horrified, until she saw the laughter in Anya’s expression.
“Chill out, Colleen. I’ve got this. I’ve modeled uglier shows for nastier audiences.”
“What if that bitch who blogged that Bar Refaeli looked like a heifer stampeding on the runway is here?”
Anya blew a raspberry. “Like that jealous turd could even get into Couture. I know you’re press shy because of TMZ being all up in your Kool-Aid at every turn, but don’t make yourself crazy about the press.”
“I can just see the headlines: ‘Gold-Digging Whore Fails Again.’ ” Colleen framed the words in the air.
“Oh, come on, you’re not a gold digger.” Anya smiled. “Whore, on the other hand, is accurate.”
Colleen stuck her tongue out at her. “Don’t try and make me feel better. I’m having an anxiety attack over here.”
“No, you’re not. And if you’d ever had one, you wouldn’t compare it to this little self-pity party. Suck it up, buttercup. They’ll like it or they’ll hate it. If they hate it, we’ll think of something else. With your bank, we can keep trying until we get it right.”
Colleen nodded, conceding the point. “I just want the recognition that I’m not only Alfie Granger’s bimbo wife.”
“You’ve got it,” Anya said. “The people who matter already know that. You have a thriving business as a resort owner. Your members-only sex club is booming. I can’t believe you managed to keep Club Inferno on the down-low the way you have. I figured Rita would have at least spilled the beans.”
“Rita knows I’d crush her like a bug. Our nondisclosure agreement is fuck-me-at-your-own-peril.”
“I
love it when you talk dirty.” Anya grinned.
Anya still hadn’t forgiven her old rival Rita for trying to bust up her relationship with Clint, one of Club Inferno’s Doms.
“We’ve got a good membership,” Colleen said. “They like having the exclusive pleasure rooms. They like being part of an elite group. It’s me that can’t seem to settle down to one thing.”
“You want it all.” Anya shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“I don’t know what I want,” Colleen said.
“You put a lot of pressure on yourself to be the head honcho. The ice queen bitch who stands alone and wields a baton of smacking.”
“A what?” Colleen wrinkled her forehead.
Anya held out a hand. “I’m rolling. Keep up. What you need is a vacation.”
“I can’t leave now. Nefertiti’s about to pop. Istvahn is worried sick. I’m short two Doms because of you and Mallory marrying them, and now all they want to do is play kissy face with you instead of spank and punish for my club. Dante is just begging for a chance to get into my stilettos.”
“Kinky.”
“You know what I mean. If I give him an inch, he’ll be in my office with his feet on my desk telling me to run along like a good little girl while he manages my dungeons.”
“You’re a control freak,” Anya stage-whispered.
“No shit,” Colleen whispered back.
“Okay, so if you can’t get away to some tropical paradise, why don’t you relax here? Enjoy the Club you put together instead of micromanaging the Doms.”
“Did Clint say that?” Colleen put a hand to her heart, a sharp stab of hurt hitting her harder because she hadn’t been expecting the criticism.
“No, of course not. Everybody loves you and is a little afraid of you.”
“Oh,” Colleen said, mollified. “Good.” Fear and admiration were what made her black heart tingle, after all.
“Listen,” Anya said, “why don’t you go down to the dungeon now? Take some you-time, and maybe show Master Dante a thing or two?” She waggled her eyebrows. “And let me know all the details.”
“You want details on Dante, fuck him yourself.” Colleen grinned.
“Yeah, like that would fly with Clint. Besides, I don’t want to fuck Master Dante. I just want to know how he is in bed.”
“I’m sure he’ll let you watch.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. He still scares the shit out of me.”
“Wimp,” Colleen scoffed.
“You know it.” Anya wiped her mouth with the napkin and pushed back from the table. “I gotta go catch up with Marisol before she sends Istvahn to find me. Remember, relax. Breathe. We’ve got this.”
Colleen nodded, but her heart wasn’t in it. She forced herself to stay for a cup of coffee while she doodled on her sketch pad. It didn’t help with her nerves. So she signed off on the check and went down to Club Inferno.
At this time of the day, there were mostly sex workshops going on. All of her Doms did double duty as instructors and taught classes in their specialty. Clint taught stripping. Max demonstrated his Japanese rope bondage skills. Micah educated interested members on the joys and dangers of electrical stimulation and knife play. Dante did erotic asphyxiation and orgasm denial.
These are a few of my favorite things, she hummed to herself as the elevator took her into the underground levels of the club.
Maybe some whip practice would ease her nerves. She keyed open her private dungeon and changed out of her prim and proper suit. Some nights when she was lonely, she slept down here and masturbated to the sounds of pleasure. Flipping through her closet, Colleen slipped into a leather catsuit.
The dungeon was set up for her next client appointment. Whereas the Doms taught group classes, Colleen did private sessions. Tomorrow she was meeting with a married couple who were learning anal play together. This was their third session, and Colleen was anticipating taking them to the next level. In the first class she’d had the husband go down on his wife while he played with his wife’s anus. Then they’d switched. The husband had been a little wary about it, but the blow job really relaxed him into enjoying his wife rimming him with a well-lubed finger. The next session, Colleen had made them wear butt plugs while they made love. Their homework for the week had been to use the plugs every night. Colleen had something special waiting for them tomorrow. On their application, they had said they liked to role-play and pretend forced consent. She was going to take that to a level she was hoping would both shock and turn them on.
The dungeon was set up like a prison, complete with orange jumpsuits and cheap cots. They were going to take turns having prison sex with each other, engaging in anal penetration—him with his cock and her with a strap-on dildo. It should be a lot of fun. Colleen was going to lock them in together until they came twice each.
After a last-minute check to see if she had enough lube and baby wipes and that everything was cleansed to her satisfaction, Colleen secured the dungeon and headed to another one of her private areas, her whip room. She wound up passing by Dante’s class. One of his favorite subs, Jana, was on her knees, her head down and knees spread. Dante was talking about orgasm control. His other favorite sub, Leo, was chained to the wall while another of Club Inferno’s subs was giving him a fast and furious blow job.
“Please, Master, may I come?” Leo begged.
Colleen felt a small smile perk up her face. Leo was a good sub. She resisted the urge to play with him herself. This was Dante’s class, and she wasn’t that much of an egomaniac to walk in and interrupt.
“No,” Dante said, walking up and down the ranks of students who were stroking and rubbing each other.
“Master, please. I’m going to come.” Leo breathed fast and hard. A fine sheen of sweat coated his chest and abs.
“Stop.” The sub at Leo’s feet immediately removed her mouth from his cock.
Leo hissed a breath and held himself back.
Colleen leaned against the door frame to enjoy the show. If it was up to her, she’d put Leo on his knees and have him persuade her to let him get off. But she didn’t have a sex slave. At least not yet. She tried to picture Chase in Leo’s position. She’d have to secure Chase. He didn’t have Leo’s control. The thought made her breath quicken.
“Good.” Dante clapped his hands, and Colleen jumped a little guiltily. But he wasn’t talking to her.
One of his students had raised his hand, and Dante nodded at him.
“I thought the whole purpose of this was to come. I mean, if that hot little redhead was on my dick, I’d be off in a shot.”
“Speed isn’t a skill.”
The class laughed, and the questioner turned a deep shade of red.
Leo gave out a soft whimper.
Dante backhanded him across the face.
The class gasped, but Colleen knew a pulled shot when she saw it. The blow was all noise and a sting. Leo wanted another, by the way his hips shifted. Dante, knowing his sub, backhanded him again. This time Leo’s head swung the other way. They were playing to the crowd and enjoying themselves in the process.
Colleen glanced down at Jana to see if she was getting turned on. Leo and Jana were lovers. But there was something off about Jana.
“Thank you, Sir,” Leo cried.
But Colleen wasn’t watching him anymore. Jana was shifting, which was almost unheard of. She was one of the best-trained subs Colleen had ever met. Not to mention she was so utterly devoted to Dante she’d do anything for him. Colleen walked into the room to get a better look.
Dante glanced over his shoulder, did a double take at her, and smiled. “Ladies and gentlemen, our hostess graces us with her presence. Mistress, welcome.” He gave her a deferential nod.
“Continue,” Colleen said, standing next to Jana.
“When you deny yourself something, it becomes sweeter,” Dante said, turning back to his class. “Who here has given up something for Lent or maybe a New Year’s resolution?”
; There were a few nods.
“Imagine denying yourself chocolate for a year. How does that first bite taste?”
“Orgasmic,” a woman sighed.
“Master, are you saying we have to abstain for a whole year?” A man in the background sounded horrified.
As Dante answered him that it all depended on the results they wanted, Colleen peered down at Jana. Sweat was dripping down her face.
“Dante, I’m taking control of your sub.” Colleen reached down and plucked an unresisting Jana up to a standing position. She sagged in relief against Colleen.
He broke off at her rude interruption and whirled on her. Then he took in Jana’s posture and stepped in toward them. “Are you all right?” He lifted up Jana’s chin with two fingers.
“Please, Master, may I go with Mistress Colleen?”
“Yes,” Dante said, and threw a worried glance at Colleen.
“Continue,” she told him again, more curtly than she wanted to. It was one thing to interrupt another Dom’s scene on a whim, but this was a safety issue. Ushering Jana out of the room, Colleen checked to see if Jana had any bindings on her. “Are you wearing a corset? Do you have any ropes on you?”
“No, ma’am. I’m not feeling well.” Jana rubbed her stomach.
“Why didn’t you let Dante know?”
“I didn’t want to interrupt him.”
“You’d rather pass out in front of the class?” Colleen asked, fighting the urge to shake the woman.
“Please, ma’am. I need to go to the bathroom,” Jana blurted out.
“Go.” Colleen shoved her toward the nearest one, and Jana ran.
Colleen waited outside. If Jana was pregnant, Colleen was going to stop drinking the water around here. After fifteen minutes, Jana slunk out.
“Please don’t be mad at him, Mistress,” she begged, and started to slink down to her knees, but Colleen caught her, hauling Jana back up to her feet.
“What’s going on?” Colleen demanded.
“I had some sketchy sushi last night.”
Colleen closed her eyes. “Are you sure it’s not something else?”
“What?”
Colleen opened her eyes and mimed an expanding belly.
Fever Page 3
