When Alex Was Bad

by Davis, Jo

  “Uh-huh. You know what I think?”

  “W-what?”

  “I think you’ve been sitting over here, brooding about your uncle’s passing.”

  If only she knew. “No, that’s not it.” He wrapped his arms around her small waist, kissed her forehead. “The truth is, I’ve been worried about Alex. About what’s happening to him and why.”

  There. That wasn’t a lie.

  The subject disarmed Olivia and she sagged against him, suspicions forgotten. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to kill Alex. He’s too driven, a barracuda in the courtroom, but . . . Jason, he’s a good man. People admire and respect him. Not the type of man at all who’d warrant this sort of vicious plot.”

  “Even though he’s the type of man who’d agree to your bargain?”

  She pulled back, her eyes flashing with anger. “You didn’t resist your part in the arrangement, and nobody’s out for your blood.”

  Oh, honey. How I wish that were true.

  “Relax,” he said, brushing his fingers down one creamy cheek. “I’m just wondering if it’s all connected somehow. I mean, the timing is awfully convenient.”

  She stilled and he saw her assimilate, her expression reflecting growing alarm. “What could Alex’s sexual choices have to do with anything?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie.” But I have an educated guess. “I just have concerns about so much of his attention being diverted from his job and you.”

  “He’s out again this evening,” she whispered. “Only two days since the attempt in the office, and he’s with her. Doing God knows what when he should be home, where it’s safe. Oh, I know he’s not really safe anywhere, but when he’s home, I can cling to the illusion.”

  She was so afraid, this tough, successful lady. He wanted nothing more than to erase the fear from her lovely face, to immerse her in good, happy sensations.

  “Ryan is with him, sticking to his ass like a burr,” he soothed. “That brute won’t make the mistake of letting someone get the jump on him again.”

  In truth, Palmer—if he was indeed behind all of this—would get to Alex. Sooner or later. Something Olivia didn’t need to learn.

  “Jase?”

  “Yeah, sugar?”

  “Make love to me.”

  There was a stress-reducer he could advocate. Olivia nibbled his throat, fingers rubbing his crotch in lazy circles. His cock awakened, filling, eager to have her. To burrow inside her, sheathed in her sweet heat.

  He backed up a step, shed his T-shirt and cargo shorts in a couple of swift movements. His erection reached for her seemingly of its own will and she smiled, some of the shadows banished for the time being.

  She undressed with quick efficiency, and he led her to the black leather sofa. He sat, pulling her into his lap, not caring whether they stained the material or not. The sacrifice was worth the cause.

  She straddled his hips, using one hand to position the head of his cock between her pussy lips. Deep blue eyes held his as she sank without a word, sucking him into that hot, wet channel. Taking all of him. Until she sat, unmoving, just letting them connect.

  Her mouth brushed his, then settled, tongue sweeping past the seam of his lips. Wine. Chardonnay with a hint of fruit and oak. The marvelous essence of her taste. Loving him. Kissing and licking.

  Jason shifted his ass and closed his eyes, seeking deeper sanctuary, happiness warming his chest at simply being joined with Olivia. The heat swelled as she began to move, sliding up and down. Creating unbelievable friction that vibrated to his toenails. Not too fast or slow, not too rough.

  Gentle. Lift and descend.

  Two people. Making love.

  Not fucking.

  Making love.

  Oh, God, never . . . he’d never . . .

  The feelings were like free-falling with no parachute. Racing down the highway at 200 mph. Opening your very first Valentine.

  First kiss.

  First love.

  Heart engaged and locked.

  “Oh, Liv, yes.” He blinked his eyes open, nearly beyond speech, to see what must be his own emotions mirrored in hers. “Good, baby. Look at me while I come inside you.”

  And he began to pulse, unable to hold off. Crying out his joy, he poured into her womb, gaze fixed on her blue eyes. She moaned, arms tightening around his neck, arching so that her nipples grazed his bare chest, and let go.

  Her walls clenched, convulsed around his cock, milking the last of his cum. When they were spent, she stayed put, raining tiny kisses over his face and neck. Each one so special because they were little gifts from Olivia, freely given. Expecting nothing in return, only wishing for his pleasure and well-being.

  He could get used to this.

  A terrifying and awesome realization.

  Jason Strickland was capable of fulfilling and being fulfilled. Without pain or degradation. With mutual respect.

  “I told Alex, I’ve done many things I’m not proud of,” he said. “But if anything could ever redeem me as a man, change my life, I’d say it was meeting you and Alex.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I know Alex would say the same.”

  Lips curving up, he thumbed away an escaped tear. “Now I can say I know what it means to make love.”

  Sniffing, she wiped at her cheeks. “Ironic that my husband has strayed in the opposite direction, isn’t it?”

  His heart broke for her. He knew firsthand the darkness that pulled at Alex now. The lure of the illicit games, of sampling forbidden flesh.

  He’d played them all.

  “Come upstairs tonight, Olivia. To my bed. Let me hold you.”

  She gave him a watery smile. “I’ll accept that fine offer, my friend.”

  Yep, let Alex come looking for her when he got home. Let him see that she wasn’t sitting around waiting.

  Tonight belonged to Olivia.

  And to himself.

  The Paddle and Whip? Alex glanced at Ryan, who shook his head, lips pressed together. Clearly, the man shared his reservations. Alex tugged on Jenna’s hand, halting their progress at the entrance.

  “A private BDSM club is a bad idea, especially in the warehouse district,” he protested.

  “It’s secluded, anonymous if you prefer, and the inside is quite nice.”

  He hitched a thumb toward the gutter. “I saw a rat bigger than a fucking Chihuahua down there.”

  “You’re going to enjoy a sensory experience to remember.”

  “Nobody’s going to paddle or whip me, including you.” Allowing Jenna to tie him to her bed had been his limit. Only Liv or Jase would have flogging privileges. In fact, the idea of a total stranger pounding on him left him cold. Uneasy, he smoothed his silk shirt and plucked at his black leather pants. Leather felt weird without underwear.

  “I can’t believe I agreed to try this.”

  Jenna wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be silly. I have a surprise for you. A present, if you will, one I know you’ll find scrumptious.”

  “I get to paddle you?”

  “Of course not. I’m merely . . . your hostess.”

  What on God’s green earth was she up to? “Is my present gift wrapped?”

  Jenna didn’t comment, just smirked, motioning them inside. “Come on. Your shadow might have to leave his sidearm at the desk, though.”

  Ryan gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “They can take it off my corpse, lady.”

  She eyed Thompson up and down, but refrained from comment. The chilly glint in her stare caused a ripple of disquiet to unfurl in Alex’s belly. The bodyguard didn’t seem affected, though he was often difficult to read. Alex supposed playing it close to the vest was necessary in his line of work.

  Jenna turned to the plain red door set into the brick building. Rather than an intercom to buzz for admittance, there was a keypad on the wall. Jenna punched in the code, not bothering to hide the numbers from them, no doubt figuring Ryan wouldn’t a
llow her to keep the combination secret. She’d be right.

  “I don’t like this, Mr. Quinn. You shouldn’t be here, in the middle of a crowd where anyone can get at you.”

  “He won’t be, Mr. Thompson. I’ve reserved a private booth,” Jenna said crisply.

  “It’ll be all right. We’re not staying long,” he assured the other man, earning a frown from his lover. “One hour, no more, then we’re taking Jenna home.”

  Surprise and annoyance marred her striking features before she smoothed them into a blank mask. Inside, he sensed her sulking and found it didn’t move him in the least. He couldn’t work up one iota of guilt for cutting the evening short. He was here . . . why?

  To satisfy his curiosity. To forget the horror of two nights ago. And yes, despite his recent impatience about being with Jenna, to appease the rising lust that had been building all day. To learn what erotic scheme she had up her sleeve this time and what boundaries she’d push. But there were no illusions about their relationship, at least on his part—their affair had the shelf life of a tomato, and it wasn’t as if she had no clue.

  They stepped inside and his self-examination was interrupted by the steady throb of bass. Hard-driving club music, muffled because it came from the end of a narrow corridor. A big, dark man wearing jeans, a black T-shirt and a scowl stood sentry at the doorway to the club proper, arms crossed over his massive chest, glaring straight at Alex as though he scarfed middle-aged lawyers for appetizers.

  Jenna strolled right up to the giant, and he smiled as she said something in his ear, nodding his head. To Alex’s amazement, the man waved them inside, sparing them the third degree. Jenna fit the scenery well, being gorgeous and looking fine in her skimpy leather skirt and bustier. Hell, any man would welcome a hot babe like her anywhere, no matter what she wore. But for his part? He felt like a can of tuna in a room full of alley cats.

  As they followed her into the throng, he shouted to be heard over the din. “How long have you been coming here?”

  “A while,” she called back. “Not very often, just when I’m in the mood for something naughtier.”

  Well, Jenna had the market cornered on naughty.

  “Damn, get a load of this crowd,” Ryan said.

  He wasn’t referring to the numbers, either. Alex’s eyes widened. Jesus, he’d lived a sheltered life. Even in his wild early twenties before he met Liv, he’d never been to a place like this, had never seen so many nearly naked, black-clad and silver-studded people in one place. Ever.

  Bare asses in cutaway pants. Bare breasts, crisscrossed by straps. Partial nudity. Everywhere. Some patrons were on the dance floor, grinding together to the beat, some in booths or dark corners, getting busy. He’d stepped into some strange alternate dimension where almost anything goes. Pick your poison, fetish, partner. Whatever.

  At the bar, a man openly fondled a woman’s bare ass. In a darkened corner, a man was on his knees, head bobbing at the lap of the man standing over him. Near them, two men laved a woman’s breasts. Decadence everywhere.

  And dammit, he was a guy, one who’d been fantasizing for two days, so all of the blatant sexuality around them headed south to his dick. Especially with the devilish inner voice reminding him that he had carte blanche. Common sense didn’t stand a chance.

  “Here we are.” Jenna slid into the booth, settling herself behind the table. “Will this do?”

  Ryan nodded. “It’s semienclosed and mostly blocked from view of the other patrons, unless someone walks right up. I can stand here and see pretty much the whole room, so it’ll pass. Mr. Quinn, let me know if you need anything.”

  The bodyguard positioned himself outside the booth with his back to them, affording him and Jenna some privacy. Alex joined her, more eager by the second to see what she had planned. Despite the dark atmosphere, he had no trouble appreciating the loose red curls draping over her shoulders and framing her breasts, which were pushing at the top of her bustier. One sneeze and they’d pop out.

  She scooted next to him, running a hand up the inside of one leather-clad thigh to the bulge in his crotch. “You’re not nearly as unaffected as you’re trying to pretend.”

  “Guilty as charged. So give me a hint about who or what we’re waiting on?”

  “Patience, darling.” She teased the ridge of his erection through the slick leather.

  He hated when she called him that, but the twitch behind his zipper gave away how his body felt about her touching him. Just being touched, period. He stifled a groan as a busty woman with long, straight purple hair and too much eyeliner was stopped and questioned by Ryan before entering the booth.

  The woman shot the bodyguard a curious once-over before addressing him and Jenna. “I’m Violet. What can I getcha to drink?”

  “Gin and tonic for me,” Jenna said. “Scotch on the rocks for my friend who’s joining us shortly.”

  Alex held up a hand. “Nothing for me; I’m driving.”

  “Club soda or something, then?”

  “No, thank you.”

  The woman left, and Jenna worked on the snap of his pants, popping them open. “Nothing to drink? You’re not in such a big hurry, are you?”

  “If I can’t see it poured, I’m not taking the chance. Who’s the friend we’re waiting for?”

  She opted to ignore his question. Clever fingers lowered the zipper, parted his fly. Peeled down the leather and lifted out his cock and balls. Exposed him, caressing his sac, the turgid length of him.

  “Jenna,” he hissed. He meant it as a protest but it emerged as a demand. Her tongue found his ear, and her breath tickled his skin.

  “No one can see, especially with the table in the way. We’re alone.”

  “Yeah, with a couple hundred people right outside these thin walls.”

  “Most of whom are occupied doing exactly what we are, too wrapped up enjoying each other to care. Besides,” she mused, rubbing the pad of one finger over the wet tip of his penis, “you can’t hide how much this turns you on.”

  Ah, God. She was right. Down and dirty sex in a public place was one fantasy the old, boring Alex had never seriously considered. Sure, there was that time on the beach—the deserted beach—with Liv during their honeymoon. Not quite the same. Yeah, that screaming noise was the last of his resistance going down in flames.

  The bar chick returned with two highballs, glanced in their direction with a faint smile and vanished. Jenna pressed against his side, took a sip of her gin and tonic, then pushed her fingers through his hair and tilted back his head, taking his mouth in a passionate kiss. The alcohol tasted crisp on her tongue and he sucked it away, seeking more of her flavor. The other hand continued to manipulate his balls, the contact light, keeping him worked up yet ensuring he’d last.

  She shifted, pulling something from her bustier. Silk brushed his cheek and he drew back to see a black scarf dangling in front of his face. “The last time I saw one of those, I walked funny for two days.”

  “The difference is you won’t be restrained tonight, and the cloth isn’t going between your teeth.”

  “Blindfold?”

  “I promised you a sensory experience, didn’t I? What better way than to remove the most relied-upon of the five senses?”

  “I’m impressed, Jenna. I didn’t have you figured for a sensualist.”

  “More of an opportunist?”

  More of a shark, but he thought it wise to refrain from saying so. “No, you strike me as uninhibited, a woman who isn’t afraid to take what she wants.”

  She gave him a saucy grin, obviously pleased. “You have that right. Now, stop thinking so much and give yourself to the moment.”

  Alex wondered briefly if Ryan could hear what they were saying, but decided he likely couldn’t since he was outside the booth, facing the crowd and the booming music.

  Then she placed the material over his eyes, tied it in a knot behind his head, and what Ryan or anyone else might hear or see faded in importance.

  “Clear
your mind and feel,” she instructed, freeing the buttons on his shirt to the waist. Her hand crept inside to stroke his chest, his belly.

  Denied his sight, he concentrated on the sounds and musky smells of the club. Jenna’s hands mapping his torso and groin, lulling him into a state of relaxed euphoria.

  Alex heard voices, and soon another body pressed against his other side. Warm and inviting. Were those . . . breasts? Bare, against his arm, the erect nipples grazing him through the sleeve of his shirt. Four sets of fingers explored him everywhere, the newcomer’s cradling his balls, stroking his shaft, and he thought he might die, it felt so good.

  “God, you’re hung,” the mystery lady murmured in his ear. She nibbled his jaw, down his neck. Farther, to his chest and belly. “Just like I knew you would be.”

  An acquaintance, then? He couldn’t place her voice, though it was familiar. She moved lower, slipping under the table and crouching between his knees.

  “Tell me what you want,” she said, giving his cock a butterfly kiss. Her palms skimmed up the insides of his thighs.

  An easy request.

  “Suck me,” he rasped. “Do it.”

  The moment her lips wrapped around his cock, enveloping him in her wet heat, he was lost. In reflex, his hips jerked upward, sending his rod farther into her mouth. He gave himself to the women taking his body. Completely.

  Jenna grazed one of his nipples, then its twin, with her teeth, driving him mad, while his other tormentor feasted on his cock. Sucked and laved the underside, swallowing him to the base, her nose buried in his curls.

  “I—you’re going to make me come if you don’t stop!” The woman released him with a husky laugh and practically crawled up his body to straddle his lap. His palms skimmed her slim, bare thighs and upward, over a tiny skirt, to the smooth skin of her waist. His fingers sought her breasts and he received a shock to find them naked, supported by some type of half-bra thing. They thrust proudly into his hands, full but not too large, the nipples pointed and tight.

  He pinched them and she gave a soft sigh of pleasure, leaning forward until a pert nipple grazed his lips, offering it to his mouth. Capturing it between his teeth, he grazed it, encouraged by her shiver of delight as she pressed closer, fingers in his hair. He laved and suckled, first one, then the other, until she pulled away, voice breathless. Urgent.