If it was any other night, she’d skip the bar, but tonight CJ really needed a drink.
Today had been her last day of work. She’d known it was coming. She’d received the pink slip two weeks ago. The design company that she had moved halfway across the country to work for had to cut back. Nothing personal, they’d told her, just business. She was the lowest man on the totem pole.
She’d spent the last fourteen days in a haze of denial. It had taken walking out of the building for the last time today to make it real. That job hadn’t just been her dream. It had been her hope for a new life.
Not that anybody cared. She hadn’t managed to make a single friend in the six months she’d lived in San Francisco. It was just like her mother had always told her—she was too straightforward and abrasive to make friends.
In fact, the only person who seemed to be happy about the whole thing was her mother. She hadn’t bothered to hide her malicious glee when CJ told her the news over the phone.
“I knew this little idea of yours would end badly. So I suppose you’ll be moving back to town now,” she’d said.
The worst part was she was probably right. CJ had used up most of her savings moving out here. She didn’t have more than a month’s worth of living expenses left, and unemployment benefits didn’t go very far in a city as expensive as this one.
She had to make a decision—risk it and give finding a good job in design out here one more try, or slink back home with her tail tucked between her legs, broke and demoralized.
But that decision could wait. Tonight she wanted to listen to loud music and drink. She wanted to dance until she exhausted herself. Only then would the pain and anger roiling inside her become bearable.
CJ pushed her way through the crowd at the bar. She raised her arm as the bartender walked by. He made eye contact but didn’t stop. He helped half a dozen people before coming back to her side of the bar. CJ shouted as he passed and glared at her.
“Pale Ale?” he asked.
She nodded.
It was a bad sign when even the bartenders didn’t like you, and she was a decent tipper.
He turned, popped the top off a bottle and put it down in front of her. CJ slid him a bill and turned away form the bar. A couple rushed in to take her spot. The girl knocked into CJ’s arm. A few drops of beer landed on her expensive-looking bodice.
“Excuse me,” the girl screamed.
“Okay,” she said. “I excuse you.”
The boyfriend opened his mouth to say something, but one don’t fuck with me look and he shut it back up quick.
CJ smiled for the first time in over a week as she walked away. Her mother was wrong. There were some benefits to being a bitch.
She took up her usual place overlooking the landing. It gave her the best view of the dance floor. The bass of some industrial song pounded through her. She never listened to this music on her own, only here. The simple beats helped to drown out her thoughts.
She watched the crowd dancing below, some in groups, some alone. Most of the regulars here tended to avoid the mainstream—goths, punks, people who didn't fit in anywhere else. CJ definitely fit into that last category. Hell, she’d been coming here for nearly six months now and she still didn’t fit in.
The closest thing to a social life she had ever had was watching other misfits have theirs. She’d never had a conversation that lasted past a couple of words with someone here, and she’d sure as hell never started one on her own. She didn’t dress up in some of the elaborate costumes that other people wore. It wasn’t her style. Jeans and boots were good enough for her. Most times, she’d pull her mop of curly black hair up into a ponytail. Usually, she came straight from work. Every other night she stayed at home and read or watched television.
It was hardly an enviable life. So why she was so upset about it ending?
She was brought back to the present by some movement at the front entrance. A few people had stopped dancing and were turning toward the door.
A covered hallway led into the club, but from the second floor she couldn’t quite see into it. CJ leaned forward trying to get a better angle.
She shot up as a man—no, a damn giant—strode out. He was a full head taller than just about everyone else down there. His shoulders had to be twice as wide as she was, and his arms looked to be bigger around than her head. His longish hair was blonde, and his features were rough but handsome. Even from this distance, CJ could see how striking he was.
The crowd at the edge of the dance floor made way for him as he stepped onto the dance floor. More heads turned his way. Groups started to whisper. She didn’t blame them. CJ couldn’t tear her eyes away from him either. Everything about him demanded attention.
He looked slowly around the dance floor and then turned toward the bar. He had to be looking for someone. His shoulders were tense and his expression was almost predatory. CJ wasn’t sure if she should feel pity or envy for the girl he was looking for.
And she was sure it was a girl he was looking for. There was something about the man that radiated sex. CJ felt a stirring between her legs. Yeah, she was definitely feeling something other than envy.
The blonde giant’s head snapped up. He looked right at her. CJ leaned backwards, even deeper into the sheltering shadows of the balcony. The move was more instinct than anything else. She knew from experience there was no way he could see her up here. The lights on the floor were just too blinding. Anonymity was the reason she always chose this particular spot.
Even so, it seemed like he was watching her. Blue eyes, so impossibly bright that she could make out their color from this distance, stared right into hers. CJ’s breath caught in her throat.
CJ sighed when the gorgeous girl with dirty blonde hair standing next to her started to wave excitedly in his direction.
“Oh my god, I know that guy,” she said to her friends. “He was at Mercy Club when I was there. He’s one of the owners. Raine, I think. Damn, he’s hot.”
CJ’s heart began to hammer against her breastbone. Of course he was from Mercy Club. She should have known the second he walked in. He emitted the kind of sexual intensity that she only found in her fantasies, and from what she’d heard, Mercy Club was every sexual fantasy rolled up into one. CJ had ended many a lonely night wrapped in the blankets of her bed, touching herself in the dark as she imagined herself there.
She knew it was never going to happen. There was only one way to get in to Mercy Club. You had to be personally invited. CJ was pretty damn sure that those invitations went to stylish girls with perfect bodies like the one standing next to her. They certainly didn’t go to anti-social rejects who had been known to spend too much time with their best friends, Ben and Jerry.
Raine started toward the stairs. He was probably coming up to see the girl in the tight dress next to her. The girl seemed to think so too. She rushed to the stairs, but Raine strode right past her without a glance.
The crowd parted when he reached the top. They made a path for him as he walked toward the railing opposite her. CJ felt her stomach drop as he wrapped his fingers around the steel bar and stared straight at her.
But why?
He didn’t know her. She doubted he would like her if he did. She’d heard the tales of submission that went on at his club, and she wasn’t the type to fall to her knees before a man. She might fantasize about it, but she had too much damn pride to actually do it.
She wasn’t giving any sign that she was interested. She wasn’t giving him open-mouthed stares like the rest of the building. If anything, she was doing her best to ignore him.
She kept her eyes on anything but him. First she watched the dance floor, then the DJ, then the line for the bathroom. It didn’t matter, just so long as she didn’t look up.
But it was useless. She could feel his stare demanding her attention. CJ fought the attraction on instinct.
He was just fucking with her. He had to be. But why her? This place was literally packed to the walls with
women who would trip over themselves to be the focus of that intense gaze, ones who would bat their eyes, and fawn over his chiseled arms. They would twirl their pretty hair around their fingers and make him feel like he was the greatest thing that had ever happened to them. Hell, maybe he would be.
But not her. She reminded herself that all she’d wanted tonight was to be left the hell alone to soak in her misery.
Maybe he was just one of those guys who couldn’t take a hint. Maybe he needed her to spell it out for him.
CJ put down the beer bottle that she’d been nervously rolling back and forth between her palms and lifted her head. She fixed him with her worst death stare. Then she lifted her right hand and gave him the finger.
His expression changed when her eyes locked with his. It wasn’t quite a smile, and it wasn’t quite amusement that lifted his eyes. It was something else. Approval.
Great. She’d only encouraged him. Why couldn’t he be like everyone else and just leave her the hell alone?
CJ pushed away from the railing, leaving her half empty beer behind.
Screw it. She was too raw tonight to deal with the turmoil his stare incited within her. CJ couldn’t even be sure why her heart was pounding so hard. Fear, excitement, and anger all warred inside her. All she knew for certain was that she wasn’t in the mood to face any of them.
She flew down the staircase that led past the stage onto the dance floor. She knew she was running. No one would dare call her a coward to her face. She’d just flipped off one of the most notorious men in the city, for god’s sake. But she couldn’t stop the voice in her mind.
That’s right. Run away and hide, just like you always do.
The main floor was packed tonight. She could disappear into the crowd, just another body clad in all black. It felt safer here, surrounded by a sea of strangers. There was no way he would dare try anything here. Not with so many people watching.
CJ squeezed her way to the center of the floor. Usually it took a few moments for her to push through the wall of self-consciousness and start moving. Tonight she had all the impetus that she needed. Her blood felt like it was on fire.
Besides, she’d stand out more if she were the only one not dancing.
Music blared from the speakers lining the DJ’s stage and hanging from the ceiling. The pounding bass moved through her in waves, and she began to move with it. First her hips. Then her arms.
Bodies pressed around her, all of them rising and falling to the same beat. Some swayed sensually, some hard and fast. Unlike upstairs, the dancers were too wrapped up in themselves to pay her any attention. There was an alluring kind of freedom in that.
After a few minutes it seemed the sex club owner wasn’t going to chase her down here after all. He had been just messing with her head.
She tried to tamp down her disappointment. It wasn’t that she wanted him to follow her. No, it sure as hell wasn’t that. But it would have been a little flattering.
CJ didn’t delude herself. She wasn’t hideous, but she wasn’t very noticeable either. Smoking hot sex gods didn’t pick her out of crowds. Especially not when there were hundreds of other girls to choose from. Girls with harder bodies, better curves, and prettier faces.
She closed her eyes and let go of the tangle of emotions swirling inside of her. Her body took over, matching the violent beat of the music. She pounded her anger out into the dance floor. A few hours of this and she might be able to sleep tonight. Maybe.
She opened her eyes just in time to crash into an unforgiving wall of muscle.
It was him. This close she had to crane back her head to look up at his face. He stared down at her with the same inscrutable expression as before. CJ’s heart jumped.
He had followed her. An electric thrill ran all the way down to her toes.
She stumbled back a half step. It was too much to hope that he hadn’t caught the look of elation on her face. The corners of his eyes lifted in amusement.
CJ’s pride roared to the surface. She pushed with all his strength against his chest. He didn’t give an inch. She bounced off him and would have fallen on her ass if he hadn’t grasped her wrist mid-fall and wrenched her upright.
“Excuse me.” She tried to snatch her hand back, but his grip was merciless. “I’m trying to dance.”
“So dance,” he said.
After a few heartbeats, he let her slip his hand from his.
She thought for a moment about bolting again. It was obvious he wanted something from her, and, given who he was, it probably wasn’t just a dance.
But standing before her was every fantasy that she’d ever had. There would never be another chance like this. There would plenty of chances to run away from life when she was back living half a mile from her mother. Tonight she’d let her dream life make one last stand.
Besides, he would probably be just as effective at helping her pound out all her bottled up aggression as dancing. Maybe even more.
She turned her back to him and started dancing again. She could feel him there behind her, watching her. As much as she hated to admit it, even his presence was intimidating.
A second later she felt the solid wall of muscle press up against her back. Chills raced up her spine as she slid against the length of him. Damn, every inch of him was solid. She could feel the power vibrating inside of him. The call of his control was beyond seductive, whispering without words that all she had to do was lean back and give in.
But she wouldn’t. The anger roiling inside her demanded release. She didn’t mute the violence of her dancing. He could either take her as she was or not at all.
He stood unmoving behind her. His arm wrapped around her middle, clasping her tight against him. She sucked in her breath at the contact. The feel of his strength was almost overwhelming. The curve of her ass was nestled against his groin and with every movement she found herself grinding against him. Her heart raced at the sensation. Her body started to come alive.
“What is your name?” His voice was every bit as strong as the rest of him, a low grumble that came from the hollow of his chest. There was a touch of accent there that hinted at somewhere far away. She struggled to place it.
“CJ,” she said.
“What does it stand for?”
“It stands for None Of Your Damn Business.”
“Then I will make it my business.”
CJ reacted to the challenge. She might not be able to best him in physical strength, but he was fooling himself if he thought for a second that she would let him into her mind.
“I am—”
“Raine, from Mercy Club. I know. Everyone here started talking about you the second you walked in.”
CJ dipped down. She drug the curve of her ass against him as she rose until it was nestled against his groin. His whole body stiffened and his grasp on her tightened. She smiled despite the sting. She might not be as hot as some girls, but she still had a couple of moves.
“So if you knew, why didn’t you come to me?”
“Come to you? That’s some opinion you have of yourself.”
It was obvious that he wasn’t used to being laughed at. He slid his arm down her, until it pressed against her hipbone. She was pushed back further into him and felt the thick outline of his cock pressing against her.
Oh lord.
“It’s entirely warranted.”
CJ shook her head at his bravado.
He clasped his free hand to her left shoulder. She struggled against his possession, but he held tight.
“You have fire.” There was approval in his voice.
“I’m pissed. There’s a difference.”
He slid his hands down until both palms cupped her hipbones. His fingers were so long they rested dangerously close to the juncture of her legs. Even through the thick denim she could feel the heat of his touch.
“I like the feel of your anger.” His whisper was rough against her ear.
“Do you?” CJ dug her fingers into the hard muscle of his thig
hs. He didn’t flinch. His cock swelled. It felt every bit as big as the rest of him.
Without warning her spun her around and cupped his hand around the back of her neck. For a moment, CJ thought that he was going to kiss her, but instead he just stared down at her with those burning blue eyes.
“Come with me,” he said. It was halfway between an invitation and a command.
“To Mercy Club?”
His nod was nearly imperceptible. It went without saying.
CJ opened her mouth to accept, but stopped before the words could come out. Between the music and the feel of him, she was losing her head. She’d heard the rumors of what went on behind those walls. Was that really what she wanted?
“Yes,” her heart screamed. There were no Mercy Clubs back home. There was only disapproval and disappointment. This was her one chance to have a tiny taste of excitement before she had to pack all of her dreams away for good.
But if she was doing this, she was going to do it on her own terms.
“Listen, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing or why you picked me to play it with, but I can tell you that if you came here looking for a supplicant, you’ve picked the wrong girl.”
“I have the right one.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
CJ grasped the collar of Raine’s giant coat with one hand. He’d thrown it around her shoulders as they’d left the club. She was swimming in the thing and had to cinch it hard around her waist to keep from dragging along the wet pavement. It might have been easier to just make a tent out of it and wait out the storm inside.
The deluge didn’t seem to bother Raine. He strode toward the corner of 11th and Mission like a god who couldn’t be bothered with the fickle nature of the elements. His shirt and jeans were soaked through, and they clung to every line and bulge on his well-defined body. He might be a pompous devil, but he sure was a fine one.
And a big one too. Did she really know what she was getting herself into? A fantasy was one thing, but if this guy got any strange ideas in his head, she wouldn’t be able to stop him.
Masters of Mercy Vol. 1 - 4 (BDSM erotica) Page 7
