“I'd rather not be considered an animal.”
“Oh, believe me, under that anxiety-ridden, sweet, innocent exterior is a she-wolf ready to consume.”
A second rush of heat filled my cheeks. “I don't really know what to say to that.”
“Don't mind me. I've had one too many of these,” he said, tapping his glass. “Even if you don't believe me, consider this: Dominance and submission exists in wild animals, too.”
“Really?”
“Dominants control what genes get passed down by preventing weaker males from mating. Submissives are often female carriers for those genes. It translates to humans in the same way. Deep down, the reason you like being dominated is because your Dominant can prove his or her genes are worth passing on. Though, of course, this doesn't happen in every D/s relationship. Some couples don't have sex at all. Not all of them are male Dom and female sub either. Some arrangements have to do with the act of dominating in a non-sexual way. Either way, the desire to be subjugated shares roots with the intense desire to be found worthy of a Dominant's attention.”
“That both makes sense and makes my head hurt at the same time,” I said rubbing my forehead.
Drake chuckled. “Well, it may be the alcohol talking, but I think you're more than worthy regardless of whether he wants to give you his attention or not.” He took a long swig of his drink.
Worthy. It was such a nice word for it. I did want to feel worthy, of both love and attention. I wanted to be acknowledged for being obedient, yet I rarely felt like Jack appreciated how far I would go for him. I'd already betrayed good sense by sleeping with J.B. I also had given him another chance when I forgave him for cheating.
But wasn't this cheating, too? Was it still cheating if I knew about it and was doing it, too? Was it still cheating if he was my Master who'd given me an order?
Was what I was doing with Drake even cheating? We weren't having sex, yet I was still lost in his eyes. I was still close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. I was still allowing his words on sexual desire to stimulate me.
Was I dancing on a dangerous line? What would happen if I crossed it?
(Drake)
“You're awfully quiet.” That's cause you spooked her with all your intellectual bullshit, Drake.
“Yeah,” she mumbled before sipping her drink. She perked up and looked over my shoulder.
Jack sidled up beside us. “Well, Master Drake, I think this lady and I will go to the back.” He turned to Emily, “Stay with him. Do as he asks. Those are my orders. Understand?”
Emily nodded. “Yes, Master.”
The couple turned and went toward the back rooms.
Emily's head sunk. “I thought this would be easier.”
“Why don't we go somewhere more private,” I suggested, setting my hand on hers.
She stared at both our hands, her eyes twinkling with tears. “I've been ordered to do whatever you want. If you want to go somewhere private, I will.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean—in that way.”
“You don't want to be in a private place with me?” Her eyes lifted to mine. The whites of them were red, her hazel irises shining.
“I don't want you to do anything in the state you're in. I was merely thinking of your comfort. You're crying, and that's not easy to do in front of strangers.”
“You're right. I would rather be somewhere else,” she admitted.
“I can arrange that.” I turned to Rock. “I'll need that bottle you promised me.” He slid me the bottle of Patron and I took it and a few shot glasses off the bar. “This way,” I said, leading her to the dressing room backstage. It was much more secluded than the other rooms. We wouldn't hear any noise or be disturbed here.
“What is this place?” she asked, wiping her eyes.
“It's the dressing rooms.”
“People perform here?”
“We do BDSM exhibition shows sometimes,” I remarked, hiding the exact details with my ambiguous statement.
She sat on the bed and I took the dressing-table chair. I poured a shot. “Care for a real drink?”
“I kind of do want one now.” She reached out for the glass. “You know, I got married last year and wasn't of legal drinking age at the time. I had wine at my wedding and could hardly walk straight.”
I'd known she was young, but I couldn't have guessed that with her curvy figure she was in her early twenties. “How old are you?”
“I'll be twenty-two this year.”
“And you never drank before you were twenty-one?” I took a quick shot. “You're a real goody-two-shoes.”
She sipped her shot and made a face. “What the hell is this?”
“Tequila.”
“How'd you drink it so fast?”
“You shoot it. Don't you know how to drink?”
“I've led a sheltered existence. Wine is just about as strong as it's been for me.” She eyeballed the Tequila closely. “So I just drink it?”
“Open your mouth, pour it into the back of your throat and swallow the whole sip. Don't stop to think about the taste,” I instructed.
She laughed. “Just like cum!”
I laughed. “Wow.”
She grinned childishly. “Okay, here goes,” she announced. She did as I told her to do and winced. “Oh my god! It burns!” She stamped her feet, her eyes squeezed shut tightly.
“You get used to it,” I said.
“Another!” she demanded, holding out the glass.
I obliged her, pouring her a second shot. “This should probably be your last one since you're not used to it.”
“Pfft. Whatever!” She took the second shot, blinked and stamped her feet. “God damn that stuff is strong!” She coughed. “Fuck!”
I grinned and took another shot for myself.
“Again!”
“Are you sure? You shouldn't overdo it.”
“What are you, my dad?” She scowled. “Pour!”
Six shots later she was swaying. The bottle was empty. We were both feeling it.
She laid down over the bed, spreading her arms out. “Oh my god. Tequila is the best thing ever invented.” She kicked off her high-heels. I admired her long legs, and noticed that her dress was riding up. Her tanned upper thigh was visible.
I nodded lazily. “Yup. It sure is.”
“What do you suppose they're doing right now?”
“Who?”
“Them.”
“Oh.” I scratched my head. “I don't know.”
“They're fucking.” She sighed sadly. “I wish I could be like Jack.”
“Why?”
“He just does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He's just such a boss of everybody.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “He's always in control of everything and everybody,” she rambled.
“Being in control isn't easy, you know. It's not always fun. It's hard work. I envy submissive types sometimes. They just have to obey and let things move around them.” I spun my glass on its thick base.
“Sometimes I hate the pain,” she said softly. A moment later she emitted a loud sniff, and I knew she was crying.
I staggered over and stood next to her. “Don't cry, Emily. Don't cry.” I reached down and stroked her forehead.
“I'm so drunk,” she whined.
“I'm not—I'm—I'm fucked. I'm fucked up,” I confessed, collapsing on the bed beside her. “I think you're amazing, Emily.”
“You do?”
“You're sweet and sensitive. You're obedient even when he's such an asshole. He clearly has no respect for you if he's putting you through this.”
“Don't talk,” she hiccuped, “talk bad about him.”
“I can't help it. You're amazing and he's a fucker. If I was him, I'd be—I'd be at home with you right now in bed with you.”
She laughed though she was sobbing. “You're in bed with me now.”
“You're right!” I exclaimed, bending over her and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
<
br /> She slid her hands away and stared at me, wide-eyed.
Immediately, I doubled back. “I'm so sorry!”
“It's okay,” she said with a sniff.
“No. It wasn't right!” I exclaimed.
She rolled up into a sitting position, then leaned back against the wall. “Don't feel bad.”
“I promise not to kiss you anymore. It's not right. We're both fucking hammered,” I reasoned.
“It was nice,” she assured me. “I forgive you.”
We both burst into a long fit of laughter.
“It was nice, wasn't it?” I said wistfully, leaning my head on her shoulder. “I know it doesn't mean much because we're both drunk, and I know neither of us will probably remember this tomorrow, but I think I care about you, Emily.” I felt her muscles go rigid beside me. “I think I have since I first met you. I think when you had that anxiety attack, I felt like you needed somebody, and I wanted to be that somebody.”
“You're such a nice guy,” she sobbed. “Jack would have just asked me what's wrong with me and taken me to a hospital.”
“I would have taken you to a hospital, too, if you hadn't had your medication.” I sighed and let my eyelids slide shut. They seemed to weigh much more than my sober eyelids.
“Will you do it again?” she muttered.
“Hm? Do what again?” I thought I'd heard her wrong or missed a word.
“Kiss me again.”
“Oh. Sure!” One would have thought I'd have volunteered to clean her gutters out or something. I eased onto my knees and kissed her forehead again with a loud smack.
I sat back on my haunches, drunk, satisfied and grinning.
Her smile had vanished and now her gaze penetrated mine. “No. Really kiss me.”
I was baffled, nevertheless, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers.
I wasn't sure how long it lasted, but soon our tongues were mingling. Our hands were roaming, and before I knew it, I was on my back and she was on top of me. Right about the time I felt her hands creep over my crotch, I pulled my head away from hers. “No. No. No.” I stopped her from going further. “This isn't right, Emily.”
“What happened to animal instincts? What happened to being real?”
“This is just alcohol talking. We're drunk.” In reality, I wanted her to do all of this and more. Ever since she'd first looked at me sadly from the club doorway, I'd wanted this. But I didn't want it in this way. “This isn't real,” I told her. “You don't want this.”
Her face erupted in tears, which was awkward because she was straddling my crotch. Still, I reached up and guided her down beside me. “Just lay here and cry. It's okay to cry. It'll pass.” I stroked her head.
“He's fucking her,” she whimpered. “He doesn't want me.”
I squeezed her to my side while she cried. “I'm sorry. I really mean that.”
Her tears soaked into my shirt, but I didn't let her go. “No matter what he tells you to do, in this room you're always free. Understand, Emily?” She shivered as she wept. “In here, you're only a slave if you want to be.”
(Jack)
I held Chastity close to me. From where my head lay, I could see our clothes strew across the room. I could see most of Chastity's naked body stretched out beside me. Welts striped her thighs and a set of nipple clamps were strung over her ankle, where they'd been discarded as soon as we'd finished.
“How's this for aftercare?” I asked with a smile.
She snickered. “It's fine. You've learned a lot.”
“I did my research. I even talked to a few Doms to find out what I was missing.”
“I was afraid you'd go soft on me, but you didn't. I'm impressed, though. You let me choose a safeword. That's some professional stuff,” she teased.
“I'd rather change how I do things than not be able to see you again.” I rubbed her shoulder gently. My thoughts wandered to Emily. I'd almost forgotten she was with me. “What do you suppose they're doing right now?”
“Who?”
“Drake and Emily.”
“I have no idea. Fucking, maybe?” Chastity asked, sitting up and searching her clutch purse for her cigarettes.
“Nah. I don't think she has it in her.” I shook my head.
“What's she like, that wife of yours?” She lit her cigarette and reclined beside me.
I thought of how exactly to describe her. “She's a rare woman: sweet, loyal to a fault, generous.”
“She's fucking gorgeous, too. Prettier than me.”
“That's a crock of shit,” I said with a chuckle.
“You think I'm prettier than your wife?” she asked.
“I think you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever met.” The crazy part was, I didn't think I was lying.
“She didn't seem happy that we left the room together. What does she think about our arrangement?”
“It doesn't matter what she thinks. It's happening. I've taken measure to ensure she won't disobey me.”
She put out her cigarette in nearby tray. “You don't love her do you?”
“I don't know. I don't think so.” I gripped her arm, afraid to stop touching her lest she disappear.
“Oh Jack.” She smiled and pulled herself onto her knees. Her finger traced over my chest as she looked down at me. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't have a heart.”
“I do,” I said playfully. “It just doesn't have enough room for love inside.” I winked at her.
“Good.” She straddled my lower stomach. “Neither does mine.”
My dick stood at attention, even though it'd only been a few minutes since we'd finished having sex.
I marveled at every curve she presented to me. My greedy hands fed on her round tits. “Fuck, you have got to be the sexiest woman I've ever been with.” I stopped to tweak her nipples, which still bore the marks of the metal clamps.
She smirked in her signature feline way. Her red lipstick had smudged over her cheek and her hair was disheveled, yet she looked even sexier in her state of disarray than she had put together. “You're not the sexiest man I've ever been with.”
“Really?”
“His dick was bigger.” Her smile grew to a grin as she lifted her hips and allowed my cock to slide inside of her. My pulse quickened as she took my entire length.
“Even if it was, I'm the one inside you right now,” I pointed out. “Other cocks don't matter as long mine is inside you.”
She lifted up and slowly lowered herself down. “What if I fucked you and thought about him the whole time?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Then I'd just have to fuck you harder, so you can't think of him.” I set my hands on her hips and thrust up into her.
“Can you do that, Jack?” she asked, looking down into my eyes. “Can you fuck all the other men out of my mind?”
I steadied her and rolled her onto her back, so I was on top. “I want to,” I confessed. “I don't want you thinking of anyone else while we're together.” I pressed deep inside her and took her wrists captive in my hands. “I want to be the only one.”
When I kissed her, she tangled her tongue with mine. I tasted sex and desire in that mouth, that delectable, sweet mouth that I hungered for when we were apart.
I held her down by the wrists, shoving so hard into her that the headboard slammed against the wall with each stroke.
Soon, her screams filled the room and echoed around us. I buried my face in her neck and tried to forget that I had a wife to go home with. I tried to forget that once this was over, it could be days before I saw my lover again. I never wanted this to end. I bit down on her shoulder, groaning as my teeth dug into the tender flesh there. Her pussy squeezed me in appreciation of the pain.
I held nothing back, and lost myself inside of her. Our bodies trembled in the wake of it. The power of our coupling left us silent.
After I let go of her wrists, she wrapped her arms around me. I let my forehead rest on her collarbone and wished I didn't have to leave.
/>
Secret Passions
Four Days Later
(Emily)
The next four days were torturous.
I couldn't have him.
I knew I couldn't.
I'd lose Katherine if I got too close to him.
And yet … Drake was hourly in my thoughts. It didn't matter what I was doing.
Even the precious moments I spent with Jack echoed with the sound of Drake's words in my ears. In the far reaches of my mind, I could still remember the touch of his hands, could still taste the sweet mint and vodka in his kiss. It'd been intoxicating. Well … the alcohol had been intoxicating. I'd suffered the next day for it, too. I'd only had a few hangovers in my lifetime, but that one in particular had been the worst.
Despite throwing up that night and battling a monstrous headache the next day, it'd seemed … worth it.
Collapsing in embarrassing tears wasn't exactly how I'd wanted things to end. I'd thrown caution to the wind, allowed myself to go too far. In the heat of the moment, even though I was blubbering all over him, he'd granted my freedom. I hadn't decided in the days following that night whether I was happy or sad about that fact. After all, my freedom wasn't his to grant.
I poked my au gratin with my fork, staring as the balsamic reduction from my chicken swirled around the plate.
“Emily,” Jack said sharply.
I was so startled I jumped. “Hm?”
He was irritated; that was blindingly evident. “I'm sorry. Did I interrupt a daydream?” he asked.
“Sort of.”
“You've been spacing out a lot lately,” he complained. “I was saying that there's a museum opening tomorrow. I'll be going and I want you to come with me.”
“Sounds good.” I sipped my water. “I was just thinking about that club.” The confession came out before I could stop it.
“Really?” Jack cut into his dinner. “Did you have a good time with your partner? You were pretty drunk by the time we left.”
“We had some drinks. Yeah.” I felt my cheeks flush.
“You had more than a few.” Jack studied my face. “What else did you have?”
Traded for Love Page 22