Distraction (Club Destiny Book 8)

by Nicole Edwards

  “Damn good to see you tonight,” Luke greeted when he approached.

  “Thanks for allowing me in,” he joked as he shook Luke’s hand. “Luke McCoy, I’d like you to meet Sarah Davis. Sarah, Luke is one of the club’s owners.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Sarah shook Luke’s hand.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Luke told her.

  Sarah seemed surprised.

  “My wife is close to Dylan’s sister. You’ve been a hot topic a time or two.”

  Sarah blushed and Dylan slid his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “All good, I assure you.”

  “Of course. But we’re still tryin’ to figure out what you see in this old, rusty cowboy.”

  Dylan chuckled.

  “He has his moments,” Sarah said sweetly.

  “That he does.”

  Trent chose that moment to walk up, quickly greeting him and Sarah. Once again, Sarah seemed nervous, which amused Dylan.

  “You taking them on a tour?” Luke questioned, sipping his drink.

  “That’s the plan.”

  Luke turned back to Dylan. “Congrats, by the way. I heard you’re goin’ into business with this crazy fuck.”

  Dylan laughed. “You heard right.”

  “Good. He needs someone to keep him in line. Maybe his own club will keep him out of my hair.”

  “Don’t count on it.” Trent smirked. “I live to interfere.”

  “Ain’t that the damn truth.” Luke glanced down at Sarah. “It was great to meet you.”

  “You, too.”

  “I’ve gotta go find Cole before he gets in too much trouble.”

  With that, Luke sauntered off, leaving the three of them standing there.

  “You ready for this?” Trent directed his question at Sarah.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Her actions belied her words, so Dylan nudged Sarah forward, falling into step with Trent.

  “The main floor is relatively tame,” Trent noted.

  “Tame?” Sarah scoffed. “There are naked people and a woman with a… I don’t even know what that is.”

  “It’s a crop,” Dylan added helpfully.

  Trent chuckled. “Let me rephrase that. It’s relatively tame compared to what you’ll see upstairs. Thankfully, there is more privacy up there.”

  “Thankfully? For who?”

  Trent smiled down at Sarah. “You’ll see.”

  True to his word, it didn’t take long for Trent to prove to Sarah that privacy was sometimes the way to go. After making a quick trip through the business end of the building where the offices were, Trent led the way down the narrow hall that overlooked the main floor. This side of the building held the recreational rooms. Unlike the three glass rooms on the main floor, which allowed onlookers to see from all angles, all of the rooms on the second floor had doors. Some people utilized them, marking the rooms as occupied.

  Not surprisingly, most of the people who visited Devotion were there to watch or be watched, so it was rare that the room was completely dark—meaning the occupants inside weren’t visible to the voyeurs who lingered. Some were looking for participants to join them, others simply to be watched doing whatever it was that struck their fancy.

  Trent continued on, leading the way to the largest of the rooms at the end of the hall.

  “This is more how I envision my entire club looking,” he noted as they stepped inside.

  It was unoccupied at the moment, which allowed them the opportunity to look around. There were several pieces of equipment, including a Saint Andrew’s cross, a spanking bench, and plenty of other “torture” devices.

  “I envision your club being classy,” Sarah said, her eyes roaming the room before landing on Trent. “Similar to downstairs but on a grander scale. That’s what I’m really trying to say.” She smiled shyly. “When I look at you, I think of platinum and gold. That should carry over into your club. And aside from that, everything is clean and crisp and white. Rugged, sand-colored leather would be utilized, as well as dark hardwood.” She nodded toward his booted feet. “A balance between the two sides to you. Glitter and diamonds versus rustic and warm. A dichotomy, I guess you could say.”

  “So you’ve given this some thought,” Trent noted.

  “A little.” Sarah’s cheeks reddened.

  “Keep going,” Trent urged, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the Saint Andrew’s cross.

  “When I think about your club, I see a main floor with a central bar and various seating areas. That would be the glitter and gold part. Similar to the VIP area at Devil’s Playground. Only, more like a high-end hotel lobby, but bigger, more spread out. Then, instead of a second floor, yours will have a basement. A dungeon, I guess you would call it. That’ll still be classy, but darker, edgier. Sexy.”

  It was obvious to Dylan that Trent was completely enthralled with Sarah. He couldn’t necessarily blame him. The woman had clearly given this some serious thought.

  “Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a designer.”

  Trent grinned. “I’ve got one of those.”

  “Of course you do,” she said teasingly.

  Sarah glanced to Dylan. He smiled at her.

  “Unfortunately, I haven’t come up with a name. I gave some thought to Sinners and Saints, but I don’t really like it. Then I had the idea of Sinful Shadows, but again, I just didn’t see it. So, I’m sorry I can’t help on that front.”

  “Oh, you helped more than you know,” Trent said, standing to his full height.

  “Yeah? Did you come up with a name?”

  Trent shook his head. “No, you did.”

  “I did?” Sarah’s eyes widened. “What are you thinking?”

  “The one word that described it all.”

  Sarah frowned.

  Dylan had already picked up on exactly what Trent was thinking. He’d seen the man’s face when she said the one single word that really did describe it perfectly.

  “Which is?”

  “Dichotomy,” Trent said, grinning as he moved toward the door. “It’s perfect.”

  Yep, just what Dylan thought.

  chapter TWENTY-SIX

  THE BEST PART ABOUT TOURING Devotion with Trent was that Sarah hadn’t thought about where she was or what might happen later for the past two hours. Keeping her mind occupied was probably the only reason she’d made it this far into the night without having an honest-to-goodness panic attack.

  Granted, now that the tour was over and Trent was off doing God knows what, Sarah was once again completely focused on Dylan and what his intentions were with her. After confirming that she didn’t want something stronger, Dylan had ordered 7-Up from a waitress, and then they’d wandered around for a few minutes, ending up right back where they started, on the second floor overlooking the main-floor activities.

  “Quit thinking so hard,” Dylan whispered, pulling her in close as they stood at the railing.

  His body was warm against hers as he pressed into her back.

  “I’m trying my best,” she told him truthfully.

  It wasn’t easy, all things considered.

  Dylan turned her so that she was facing him, her butt against the wrought iron rail. In a moment of panic, she briefly wondered if anyone could see beneath her skirt. If they could, they were getting an eyeful right about now since she wasn’t wearing panties.

  Of course, that thought flittered right out of her head the instant Dylan’s lips descended on hers. His mouth was firm, his lips warm, his hands gentle as he urged her closer. She leaned into him, loving how easily he could distract her from her thoughts. Apparently she’d gotten a little too lost in the kiss, because the next thing she knew, they were in one of the private rooms. She hardly remembered moving, inching out of the hallway bit by bit.

  And here they were.

  Sarah tried not to think about what came next. Would a stranger walk in any second now? Was this other person not a stranger? Did she know
him? Would this be awkward and weird?

  “I’ve waited for this moment,” Dylan mumbled against her lips, his hands trailing down to her thighs. “Two hours with Trent was hell. I’ve been counting down the seconds until I could get my hands on you.”

  Sarah giggled. “I guess you better make up for that lost time.”

  “I can do that.” He pulled back and looked at her, his gaze imploring hers. “I can definitely do that.”

  She knew what he was thinking, so before he could voice his question, she beat him to the punch. “I’m good, Dylan. With everything.” Sarah pulled his head back down so she could reach his mouth. “I’ve been waiting all night, too. I want nothing more than to feel you inside me.”

  A rough growl escaped him as he settled his mouth over hers once more. Sarah slipped her arms around his neck, bringing her body closer to his as their tongues explored. When he pulled her farther into the room, she moved with him, refusing to let go.

  She was overwhelmed by this man. The warmth of his body, the rich, intoxicating scent of his cologne, the sexy rumble coming from his chest. Dylan Thomas did it for her in so many ways. Ways she never thought possible. Sarah could feel her body heating, her desire intensifying. She hadn’t been lying when she said she was ready for this. Her pussy clenched with the need to be filled. Her clit pulsed with an ache that she knew Dylan would sate eventually.

  He wasn’t moving fast though. He seemed to be taking his time, his hands trailing over her hips, then down to her thighs. His rough fingertips sensually scraped across her skin, back and forth. When he pulled his mouth from hers, Sarah met his eyes and what she saw stole her breath. There was so much passion, a burning need that mirrored her own, glittering in his dark eyes.

  “I want this.” Dylan’s words were said softly, his hand cupping her face. “I can’t explain why, but it’s all I can think about.”

  Sarah nodded. “And I want to give you this,” she assured him.

  It was only then that she realized they weren’t alone.

  Sarah sucked in a breath when she mentally calculated the number of hands that were on her body. There weren’t only two, there were four. And the warmth at her back was coming from another person.

  “Tell me you want to see where this goes,” Dylan urged, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Tell me that you want us to pleasure you, to make you feel things you’ve never imagined.”

  “Yes,” she rasped. Her body had a mind of its own, impulsively leaning into the hard body behind her as those big, work-roughened hands gently slipped around to her chest.

  Dylan’s eyes left her face, his gaze sliding to the person behind her. “Christian, you remember Sarah.” Dylan peered down at her again. “Sarah, Christian.”

  “Chris,” the man voiced. “You can call me Chris.”

  She couldn’t form words because she was now caught up in the sensations that were assaulting her body as she processed the fact that she had gone to high school with this man. She’d spent days thinking about this, wondering how awkward it would be. But it wasn’t. Yet. And that was surprising because she had yet to see Chris’s face. She knew what he’d looked like in high school, but now…

  Dylan took a step back. “I want him to undress you while I watch.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, Sarah willed the rioting butterflies in her belly to chill out.

  When Dylan moved farther back, perching on the edge of the mattress, the strong arms around her relaxed slightly. She kept her eyes locked with Dylan’s as the man—Chris—slowly tugged on the string at her side. He clearly knew how this worked. Once it was freed, the wrap-dress slid open. His hand dipped inside and tugged on the other string, then slid the dress from her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor.

  She felt every bit as naked as she was thanks to Dylan’s slow perusal of her body.

  Dylan tilted his chin. Obviously a silent command for Chris, because he unhooked her bra and it too fell to the floor.

  “Take his shirt off, Sarah.”

  She faltered for a moment, not sure she wanted to turn around. Since she had yet to see Chris’s face, she could easily pretend this never happened. But once she did…

  Chris clearly was on to her hesitancy, because his hands gently cupped her arms and guided her around until she was facing him.

  She was eye level with the man’s chest, which meant she had to look up—way up—to see his face. Sarah stared up into the steel-blue eyes of the man she was allowing to touch her. Aside from being older, he looked a lot like he had in high school. He was tall, a few inches taller than Dylan. He had dark hair and a scruffy jaw, like Dylan. The similarities ended there though. Where Dylan’s face was ruggedly handsome, Chris’s was less chiseled, smoother. He looked younger than Dylan, but she knew they were the same age.

  “Very nice to see you again.” Chris’s deep, gravelly voice slid over her nerve-endings, making her entire body pulse.

  “His shirt,” Dylan reminded.

  Sarah slowly slid her hand up Chris’s torso, working each button open slowly. Her fingers trembled, but she managed.

  As she revealed sun-bronzed skin, she admired every inch. He was in great shape. All solid muscle. It was obvious he worked outdoors because even in the winter he had the evidence of a tan.

  Once she had the shirt unbuttoned, Chris shook it off, then his hands did a slow glide from her shoulders down to her elbows. He turned her once more so that she was facing Dylan. This time when he pressed his chest to her back, she felt the warmth of his skin.

  Dylan got to his feet and moved toward them.

  “Oh, God,” Sarah moaned when Chris’s mouth trailed over her neck at the same time Dylan leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

  Two men.

  There were two men kissing her, touching her. It was surreal and she didn’t want it to end. She forced her brain to decipher between the various sensations, but it was nearly impossible. Her senses were overwhelmed.

  Sarah had no idea how long the kiss lasted, but she was still reeling when Dylan pulled her toward the bed and settled her on his thighs, facing away from him. He brushed her hair off her neck, his lips trailing over the skin he exposed. His hands roamed slowly, gently over her chest, her breasts, her belly. All the while, she was watching Chris as he inched closer to them.

  Chris didn’t say a word, but his eyes said more than words could have. He looked at her as though she was the most tempting woman he’d ever met. It did something strange to her insides, a warmth curling through her belly, extending lower.

  “Spread your legs,” Dylan whispered, his big hands urging her thighs apart. “I want Chris to taste you.”

  Oh, geez. Sarah knew what that meant, and though a touch of modesty skirted the edge of her mind, she allowed Dylan’s hands to spread her legs, to glide up her thighs, his fingers separating the slick lips of her pussy and baring her to this man’s gaze.

  Chris dropped to his knees as though he were going to worship her.

  A rough growl reverberated from Chris as his mouth trailed over the inside of her thigh, then slid to the other. Sarah realized she was gripping Dylan’s forearms, holding on to him tightly.

  “Taste her,” Dylan ordered. “Put your mouth on her pussy.”

  Dylan groaned, his lips skimming her neck when Chris’s head lowered between her thighs.

  The instant his hot breath stroked her sensitive flesh, Sarah flinched. And when his lips grazed her clit, she nearly fell off Dylan’s legs.

  “How does it feel, Sarah? To have his tongue on your clit?”

  Sarah moaned. No way could she speak. It felt incredible, even if she knew this was wrong. No, wait. It wasn’t wrong. More like taboo. Uncommon, definitely. But that didn’t change the fact that she was overwhelmed by heat from this man’s mouth as he gently licked her, tormenting her. He was teasing more than anything, driving her higher and higher with every leisurely stroke of his tongue.

  Dylan’s hands trailed over her. Her thighs,
her hips, her belly. They worked their way up to her shoulders, slid down her back, and once again around to her thighs. Her skin tingled. Her nipples puckered.

  When Dylan’s hands cupped her breasts, his fingers lightly tugging her nipples, she leaned into him more. Her eyes were locked on Chris as he sat back, his big hands on her thighs. He was watching what Dylan was doing.

  With her hands clutching Dylan’s wrists, Sarah watched as Chris leaned in and wrapped his lips around her nipple, his tongue thrashing against the sensitive peak. Lightning bolted from her nipple to her clit.

  “Touch him,” Dylan instructed.

  Sarah reluctantly released Dylan’s wrists and slipped her fingers into Chris’s silky dark hair. She pulled him closer, trying to assuage the ache that had taken up residence in her body.

  She was briefly aware of Dylan shifting, of her butt hitting the mattress, of being lowered to her back while Chris continued to torment her with delicate pulls of his mouth on her breast.

  And then there were two mouths on her and Sarah went up in flames. Dylan’s mouth fastened to her other nipple and Sarah cried out from the sheer ecstasy of it. They worked in tandem, driving her higher and higher. She felt someone’s fingers separating the oversensitive flesh between her thighs, but she wasn’t sure who it was. One finger dipped inside her and she bowed up off the bed.

  “Oh, God!” An orgasm streaked through her, surprising her.

  “Damn, she’s sweet,” Chris whispered. “So fucking hot. I want to watch her come at least a dozen times.”

  A dozen. Sarah wouldn’t survive a dozen.

  She tried to breathe, her eyes traveling from one man to the other, then back again until Dylan’s eyes were locked with hers.

  “Are you okay?” Dylan inquired.

  Sarah shook her head. “No … I need … more…”

  The pure sensuality that darkened Dylan’s face sent a tremor skittering up her spine.

  DYLAN WAS DOING HIS DAMNEDEST to make this good for Sarah. From the second Chris’s hands touched her, Dylan had wanted to bury himself deep in her body and watch her come apart between them. He couldn’t explain what it was about this that turned him on, but it did. Seeing Chris’s hands stroking her, his mouth feasting on her, the way Sarah writhed and moaned, begging for more. Knowing that they were turning her on, bringing her pleasure… It made him so hard it fucking hurt.