Black Light: Roulette Rematch (Black Light Series Book 20)

by Livia Grant

  “Yeah, I wish I were as optimistic as you are. The problem is, even if this mythical impreg-loving unicorn sub does exist today, she’s gonna be ten years older and probably already taken if I stay on my current trajectory.”

  “Well,” Spencer said softly, “that’s a different issue entirely. All I’m telling you is, she does. I’ve been in the lifestyle far too long—not only as a Dom, but as someone who deals with the kink community on a daily basis—not to be able to say that with one hundred percent confidence.”

  Davis grimaced, watching as the sun crept into his vision as it drifted toward the Pacific Ocean and his final destination another eighty-five miles to the west.

  “Hey, listen, Spencer… I’m sorry for laying all this shit on you.”

  “Don’t be. I know what the challenges are being a kinkster and still active duty. Shit’s hard enough when you’re in the civilian world, much less trying to fit it in when you’re always being sent on temporary duty somewhere.”

  “Truth.”

  “And I also know you’re coming from a place where you’ve got some other, much more serious, real-life shit to deal with. I’m not going to suggest again you talk to a professional about what went down in Swat Valley, but…” The phone went silent.

  “I’m dealing with it. Okay?”

  “No pressure, Captain. I’ve said my piece before. However, Klara’s reminded me what it was like when I got out, and lately with everything going on with Axel…” Spencer went quiet for a moment. “We care, okay? And we won’t keep our mouths shut when we feel it’s important.”

  “Understood.”

  There was another short pause. “How far out are you?”

  Davis glanced at the brown-and-white sign he was just passing. “Just passing Hub Ripper Hill, so about another hour and a half to go.”

  “Hub Ripper Hill,” Spencer said tonelessly. “Jesus Christ, the Left Coast is the weirdest goddamn place…”

  “Yeah, right, because places with names like Intercourse, Frogtown, Blue Ball, and Crapo around DC aren’t weird at all.”

  “East Coast is Beast Coast.”

  “Oh, for the love of fucking God…” Davis shook his head, grinning.

  “Where’d you end up staying?”

  “Place called Maison 140 in Beverly Hills. It’s about two miles from the club.”

  “Good deal. Sorry Elijah couldn’t get you a room at Runway, but… he’s an asshole, and you’re my friend, so that’s two strikes against you from the get-go. To be fair this is also one of the biggest nights for the club, so rooms have been booked in advance for months, but… main thing is, he’s an asshole.”

  “So, you’ve said,” Davis said dryly. “More than once, I might add.”

  “You let me know if he doesn’t take care of you. He’s gonna get his ass beat again this year, and I fully expect he’s gonna be a sore loser about it.”

  “Don’t put me in the middle of whatever schoolboy, fight-me-by-the-bike-racks bullshit the two of you have going on, Spencer.”

  “It ain’t me, Captain! He’s the one who can’t admit Black Light East is by far the superior club. He’s in total denial.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Listen, I want to remind you part of the reason I helped you get into this event was so you could do a little recon for me and help me make sure that little sonofabitch isn’t trying to—”

  “Not happening, Spencer!” Davis cut him off, chuckling. “I’ve told you before how much I appreciate this, but I am not running a surveillance op while I’m fucking some sweet little sub because you’re afraid of not winning again this year.”

  “C’mon, Captain! I know you can multi-task. And Elijah is so butthurt after what happened last year, I know he’s gonna try to game the system somehow.”

  “You two are unbelievable,” Davis mumbled.

  Spencer laughed. “Okay, seriously, when you see Elijah you tell him I said I appreciate him taking care of you, that I’m sorry he lost again this year, and that I promise to make sure you get the real Black Light experience the next time you make it out this way.”

  “I’ll send your warmest regards.”

  “Thanks.” Spencer snorted. “I knew I could count on you.” After a short pause, Spencer sighed. “Okay, listen, I hate to cut this short, but I still have shit to do for the winning event tomorrow, and Klara needs a maintenance spanking, and… I swear, some days it’s just nothing but work, work, work.”

  “My heart bleeds for you.” Davis grinned. While their conversation might not have resolved anything, it still felt as if some of the weight from earlier had been lifted off his chest. “I appreciate your time, Spencer.”

  “Any time, Captain. The Marines have always taken pride in coming to the rescue of their Army brethren.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Never claimed to be anything but. Listen, drive safe and take care. Oh, and have fun tomorrow, goddammit!”

  “Will do. Bye!” Davis reached across and hit the red End Call button. There was a little bedoop sound, and the interior of the car was silent once more.

  Davis stared at the shimmering mirage-slicked line of gray freeway ahead of him. He only had an hour to go before he’d be settling into a nice quiet, comfortable room to relax and think about what would be taking place in a little over twenty-four hours. A chance to forget about everything looming in the future. Choices that hung like a sword over his head—whether to stay in another ten years, or risk it all on the chance that maybe, just maybe, as Spencer had said, there was someone out there who wanted…

  He chuckled and shook his head. Spencer was crazy. He was crazy. It was goddamn stupid to think, much less believe, there was a woman out there who had the same kind of kinky, fucked-up desires he did about impregnation. No, they wanted the ring, the certificate, the little pink house and all that jazz.

  Okay, stop, Davis. He needed to stop obsessing over this like it was one of his military exercises and just enjoy the next twenty-four hours for what they would be. It would be good to be back in a club, playing for a couple of hours with some nice, sweet, little submissive. Probably some ditzy wannabe actress who worked tables at Cheesecake Factory while she waited for her big break. Someone who probably hoped to get paired with Shane Whatever-his-name was, or a producer or director, not that any of that mattered to Davis. He’d make sure she walked away from tomorrow night only thinking of how he’d played her body like a finely tuned instrument. It’d be a week, maybe even a month before she’d be thinking about anyone other than him.

  God, you are an arrogant SOB.

  Davis glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. How was it his commander had described him? ‘Dominant characteristic… arrogantly aggressive.’ Yeah, Davis would cop to that. And there was a submissive out there who was going to find out just how true that was tomorrow evening.

  Forget everything else. Just have fun.

  Hell, if he played his cards right, maybe he could parlay making her orgasm at the event into breakfast in her studio apartment, or in the restaurant downstairs of his hotel. As for anything beyond that…

  Impreg kink? Nope. More like impreg fantasy. Because that’s all it was ever going to be.

  Ever.

  Chapter 2

  Jessica

  “Kicking?”

  Doctor Jessica Bain stared eagerly at her friend and colleague, hoping to catch a glimpse, however brief, of the movement.

  “Right on my goddamn bladder,” Doctor Elise Rudeyo said tightly. “I swear to God, this kid is going to take taekwondo lessons as soon as it’s old enough, just so I can have the pleasure of watching it kick the shit out of someone other than me.”

  Jessica laughed. It was a Saturday, and they were in Elise’s office at Caltech, the lab they both worked in a mere twenty feet away. That they were both here on a weekend should have been unusual, except it wasn’t. It was all too common, and part of the reason Jess should be looking forward to getting away tomorrow night.

&nbs
p; Should be.

  She waited as Elise slowly made her way to her chair before plopping into it with a groan.

  “That”—Jess pointed to her friend—“is just one more reason why I’ve no desire to have a child.”

  Elise gave her a sour look. “You’re the worst liar ever.”

  “Pfft. Watching you grow fat, seeing the baby kicking you from the inside out, and let’s not forget the crap you’ve been eating lately…” Jess looked down to the wire mesh wastepaper basket where a crumpled McDonald’s bag peeked out from between empty plastic water bottles and other trash. “Yeah, you’ve really sold me on this whole pregnancy thing.”

  Elise raised a single eyebrow, then turned to the bookcase behind her. Silently she lifted a sizable stack of magazines from the top before turning back to drop them on her desk with a thunk.

  “American Baby,” she said tonelessly, picking the first one up. “The Bump. Fit Pregnancy. Today’s Parent. The Mother Magazine.” She dropped each one onto the desk beside the original stack, her eyes never leaving Jess’s. “Mother and Baby Magazine. Your Baby. Pregnancy Life and Style. Oh, and let’s not forget one of my favorites: Rockstar Birth Magazine.” She dumped the last on the second stack, and she hadn’t made it halfway through the original.

  Jess looked at her without expression. “You have a point here?”

  Elise rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ, Jess! I didn’t buy these—you did! You’ve been more enamored of the process of bringing this”—Elise gestured to her belly—“creature into the world than I have!”

  They stared at each other for a moment before breaking into sheepish grins.

  “Listen, I may not be selling this part of motherhood very well,” Elise said quietly.

  “But… you’re right,” Jess cut in to finish the sentence. “I am living vicariously through you.”

  Elise looked down at her desk. “Well, I’ve said it before, all we need to do is find you the right—”

  “Don’t.” Jess held up her hand, her smile fading. “Elise, I know you mean well, but…”

  “Listen,” she said gently, “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything you don’t want. But this…” Elise ran a hand over the curve of her midsection. “Jess, I’ve known you long enough to see this is something you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about.”

  Fuck. Was it seriously that evident? Who the hell was she kidding—of course, it was. She’d not shied away from telling Elise how much she envied her, and the two fucking stacks of magazines sitting there on her desk only hammered the point home. But there was something Elise didn’t know. Something about the process of getting ‘in the family way’ that made her core clench even as she sat here right now thinking about it. Everyone had certain things that got them off, made their pee-pees tickle, even if they might be considered a bit taboo. Jess had never tried to explain to Elise what really wound her up. What she’d spent far too many nights than she cared to admit lying in bed watching on her phone screen as she slowly worked her fingers inside her, thumb brushing against her clit until she...

  Okay, stop, Jess. That’s enough. She and Elsie went back, and while she loved the woman and had shared a lot with her, this… she wasn’t sure she could or would ever be able to tell her about the things she craved. About things she desired to be beyond just fantasy to a want she didn’t dare…

  “Okay, Elise, fair enough,” Jess said, smiling ruefully. “I know it must sound like I’ve got a fetish or something…”

  “Well, if you do, I must share a little bit of it too, my current condition being Exhibit A.” She pointed her hands in a V toward her belly.

  Jess laughed. “And mine being Exhibit B.” She gestured toward the two stacks of magazines before her face turned serious. “Listen, all this fascination with your pregnancy… It doesn’t… freak you out, does it?”

  “Ha! As if anything you could say at this point would freak me out.” Elise leaned forward, pointing a finger. “You, my friend, have never shied away from being open and honest about everything. You do recall how we became friends, right?”

  “What?”

  “I was wearing that choker Owen bought me. The little black braided one with the heart at the center. We’d… what? Worked together all of… a month?”

  “Almost two.” Jess gave her friend a grin.

  “Fine. Almost two. You walked right up to me that morning, took one look at it, and said, ‘Nice day collar. Do you wear it at the club too?’”

  “Well?” Jess gave her a ‘was-I-right’ gesture.

  Elise laughed. “Oh my God, Jess. Only you would walk straight up to someone you’d only known for a month—”

  “Two.”

  “Fine! Two! And then say something like that.”

  “I was right, though, wasn’t I?” Jess smirked at her.

  “You are so arrogant!” Elise laughed. “And you didn’t stop there! Asking me if I had a Dom, were we D/s or M/s, did we belong to any groups, did we want to belong to a group, what clubs did we go to…”

  “I’m not arrogant. I’m correct.”

  Elise shook her head, chuckling. “You just have no pretense. No filters. I suspect even if I’d said no, you’d have still asked me if I was interested in learning about BDSM, try to convince me of my latent submissive desires, and then recruit Owen and I into your sex-crazed lifestyle.”

  “As if it would have taken much to persuade you.”

  “Bish.”

  “Slut.”

  The two women broke into giggles.

  “Listen, Jess.” Elise held up her hand. “I get it. I’m not trying to push you to do anything you may not be ready for in your life just yet. All I want is for you to be happy.”

  “I love you, Elise, and I love that you’re looking out for me, but I’m fine. Seriously.” Jess gave her friend a warm smile. “Besides, this is all your fault really.”

  Elise pulled back her head. “It is? How the hell do you figure that?”

  “If you weren’t spraying baby pheromones all over the place…”

  “Spffth spffth spffth.” Elise laughed as she made misting noises, flicking her hands toward Jess.

  Jess brought her arms up to form a warding cross, laughing as she shied away.

  “Ooh, speaking of making sure you’re happy…” Elise cocked her head. “You are still planning on attending Roulette tomorrow, right?”

  The mention of Valentine Roulette made Jess tense. She’d signed up for the annual Valentine’s Day event on a whim—or a drunken dare, she couldn’t remember which now. Even though she’d attended the club twice previously as a guest, she still couldn’t fathom why she’d been picked for this event at all. She was a nobody. Not even close to the high end, Variety-page cocktail party circuit of actors and actresses, big-time Hollywood producer types, and all the normal glitterati who showed up at Black Light on any given night.

  What does it matter, Jess? They’re not going to peer-review one of your papers, for Christ’s sake. They just need your body for three hours so you and some random Dom can have fun.

  “Yeah,” she said, pulling herself back into the moment. “Yeah, I still plan on going.”

  “You sound… thrilled.”

  Jess rolled her eyes. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to be going at all, honestly.”

  “It’s one of the most exclusive BDSM clubs on the West Coast. Hell, in the country, if truth be known. I’d think you’d be ecstatic.”

  “And I was just thinking how awkward it’s going to be trying to hold an intelligent conversation with some airhead actor like Shane Covington, or any of the other Doms I’m likely to run across there.”

  “Oh, come on. How do you know they’re all like that? I’m sure there are some very intellectual people who go to Black Light.”

  “Oh, I’m sure there are. And, you know, if I was trying to find a way to get into ‘the Business,’ it’d be great. Much better than having to find the nearest casting couch and give some guy a blowjob.”

/>   “Jeez, Jess. You can be so cynical.”

  “No,” she said in return. “As you said, I just have no pretenses. And my few experiences with the kind of Hollywood types that frequent Black Light is they’re full of pretenses.”

  Elise grimaced. “Well, at a bare minimum you should have fun. All those big, buff Gold’s Gym type Doms are gonna be all about showing off, and that could be worth the price of admission alone, right?” Elise stared at her for a moment. “I mean, was it really that bad before?”

  “No, it wasn’t that bad, but I knew the men I was there with. This time it’s just going to be some random Dom the fates assign me. And despite what you may think, not every Dom at Roulette is going to look like Dwayne Johnson or Jason Momoa.”

  “But you’ll have fun, right?” Elise looked at her hopefully.

  “I’ll try.”

  “C’mon. You can do better than that. Promise me you’ll have fun.” Elise gave her a cheerleader grin.

  “Oh, God.” Jess rolled her eyes, plastering on her best preppy look. “Yes, Elise! I’m gonna have loads and loads of hot, thick, sticky-sweaty, fun!”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  Jess couldn’t help but laugh. The thing was, though, ‘fun’ was not the word Jess thought of most when thinking about Roulette lately. No, that word had been replaced by chore, and she was pretty certain she knew why.

  Normally Jess looked forward to going to a club. She enjoyed playing, and this was going to be at an exclusive event where the level of the Dom she was likely to be paired with should exceed her normal expectations. That wasn’t the problem here. The problem was she couldn’t stop thinking about things that had nothing to do with the event tomorrow. Thoughts and images of That Which Shall Not Be Spoken Of seemed to stick like burrs to everything, including Valentine’s Roulette.

  “Taylor still going with you?” Elise’s voice brought her out of her reverie.