Red Club Temptation

by Marie Tuhart

  Table of Contents

  Red Club Temptation

  Publication Page

  Dedication

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Chapter One

  Also Read

  Thank You

  Red Club Temptation

  by

  Marie Tuhart

  Lobster Cove

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Red Club Temptation

  COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Marie Tuhart

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2015

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-771-9

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To Nicci and Isabel: Without our plotting weekend this book wouldn't have been written.

  To my editor, Trish, who always pushes me for more and somehow I do it.

  Thanks to Lori Graham for spearheading the Lobster Cove group and allowing us to run free with our idea.

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Marie Tuhart

  AND HER BOOKS

  QUICK SILVER RANCH:

  ROPED & READY

  ~*~

  “This story has something for everyone and will thrill readers looking for depth in their erotica story as Tuhart spends equal time on the physical and emotional sides of Becca and Tyler's romance.”

  ~Kate Girard, RT Book Reviews

  ~*~

  HIS FOR THE WEEKEND

  ~*~

  “Highly sensual, this is also a sweet tale of love between two memorable, well-rounded characters.”

  ~Keitha, RT Book Reviews

  ~*~

  MORE THAN ONE NIGHT

  ~*~

  “As I read this book, I was caught up in the daydream of actually having a hunk such as Jake chasing our heroine (and wishing I was the she). Gentle, passionate, caring…sigh! Yes, Jake was perfect in so many ways, throw in Rosie (our heroine’s dog), and this story becomes what dreams are made of.”

  ~ Gardenia, Long and Short Reviews

  Chapter One

  Caleb Drake rested against the wall inside the public play area of The Red Club hoping his nonchalant façade didn’t slip. The masks covered the eyes enough to obscure one’s features. The women wore more colorful masks while the men wore the more traditional black or navy ones. This was something new and unexpected.

  Much had changed in the club since he’d last seen it. The club had been split into a public and private area. Two raised stages of dark polished wood graced the wall of the public area, with sofas scatted in sloppy circles in front of both. More sofas sat behind them in a line, then chairs and small tables.

  He shifted his stance. The concrete floor was hard and unforgiving, but there were small area rugs in strategic places beneath the sofas for the guests to use. Plus there were pillows scatted everywhere to be used for kneeling or support. The club almost had a homey, welcoming feel to it.

  It had been well over twelve years ago when he had gone to The Red Club for the last time and had left, knowing he couldn’t have what he wanted.

  So he packed up and left Lobster Cove for what he thought would be forever. But Matt, his business partner and friend, had asked him to explore the club to find out what made the club so special, so they could duplicate it and make their clubs in Chicago, Dallas, and Las Vegas more profitable.

  A familiar sound reached his ears, and his gaze went to the scene being played out on the stage. Some in the audience were watching with rapt attention. A female sub in nothing but a g-string was tied onto the St. Andrews cross, her Dom holding an impressive leather whip. Her Dom wore black leather pants and nothing else.

  Caleb figured at least half the audience had never been into BDSM, or a BDSM club for that matter, until tonight. The other half seemed a little more experienced.

  “You’ve been a bad girl,” the Dom said.

  “Yes, Master, I have been.”

  “What have you done to merit this public punishment? And say it loud enough for everyone to hear.”

  “I masturbated and orgasmed without my Master’s permission.” Her voice was clear and strong. Her body quivered with anticipation and Caleb smiled.

  He wanted a sub like that. A woman who would test his boundaries. A woman who would play with him. A woman who wouldn’t run screaming from his needs.

  “And because you disobeyed me, you will receive twenty lashes with my favorite whip. Count each stroke, pet.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  The whip sailed through the air and landed with precision across the sub’s right ass cheek, leaving a mark.

  “One,” the sub called.

  His gaze began to wander around the club, and he found himself under scrutiny by a curvaceous redhead. Could it be? He blinked. It had been twelve years. But the Jessie he knew wouldn’t be caught in a black corset, exposing the tops of her breasts and making his mouth water, wishing for a taste of her creamy skin.

  And it couldn’t be her mother. A not-so-nice shiver went up his spine. Lacy Michaels was a Domme with a reputation he wouldn’t even challenge.

  Their gazes met, and Caleb sucked in a breath. Arousal shot through his blood at the lust in her eyes. With deliberation he let his gaze drop to the black leather pants clinging to her curves, making him wonder what she wore underneath. Black boots filled out the outfit.

  His dick stiffened, and he fought against adjusting himself. His cock’s quick reaction to this sexy woman almost made him smile. Time to find out if she was a Domme or sub. This time when their gazes met and held, he mouthed the word “Obey.”

  Her gaze dropped. He sucked in a breath. Damn, she was a submissive. And just what he needed. He couldn’t help himself as he strode across the room.

  Caleb stopped when he was within touching distance, and her gaze never rose from the floor. Excitement stirred in his spine for the first time in a long time.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Good evening, Sir.” Her voice was soft but calm, eyes still downcast.

  He cupped her chin and tilted her head up. “Look at me, sweetheart, I want to see your eyes.”

  Hazel eyes to go with beautiful red hair. He loved looking into the eyes of his subs, unless of course he had them blindfolded, and then he would make them use other senses.

  “Are you available?” He glanced at her wrist. No band. He’d been told anyone with a black band was off limits.

  “Excuse me?” a male voice intruded.

  Caleb’s gaze left hers to see one of the dungeon masters standing next to them. “You’re needed in the other room, Red.”

  Her spine stiffened, and she lifted her chin out of Caleb’s hold. “Thanks, Ryan. I’ll be right there.”

  Ryan nodded and gave Caleb the once over before he disappeared into the pr
ivate club area.

  “Sorry, but I have to go.”

  “I understand, but first...” He cupped her cheeks and brushed a kiss across her soft lips. She leaned into him when he released her mouth. “I’ll be here if you want to play later.” He released her and stepped back.

  Her fingers touched her lips and then she smiled. “I might take you up on that.” Then she strode away, hips swaying.

  He wanted to follow her into the private area, but he wasn’t cleared for there. His cock throbbed. Damn, this was inconvenient. Hopefully he’d see her again. But then again, he probably wouldn’t. He had an interview at the club tomorrow.

  Matt had secured the interview after finding out the club was looking for another dungeon master. Most clubs had rules about playing with patrons. He shook his head. He needed to get back to the business at hand. Find out why the club was so successful and then get back to Chicago so it could be duplicated. That was his job.

  ****

  Jessie Michaels yawned and took another sip of her coffee. She hated early morning interviews, especially after a late night, but she needed another dungeon master. And this man came highly recommended by her old friend and mentor, Rusty.

  This whole interview thing was really a formality. While he was bringing his application, she’d already talked with Rusty about his qualifications. Glancing at the clock. Almost ten, she set her mug down and went to the back entrance.

  The Red Club wasn’t just a BDSM club. The thriving business had been handed down from mother to daughter for four generations. From when the first concert saloon, as they were called in during her great-great grandmother’s time, to now after her mom made it into a BDSM club.

  Of course the location had been moved, mainly because the old location had burned down when Jessie was little, but also it made more sense. It was on the edge of town with ample parking. The old factory was perfect with its high ceilings and concrete flooring. They’d turned the second floor into a living area, another plus. When Jessie’s mom had died three years ago, she had taken over.

  And she loved every minute of it.

  She’d more than wondered when she was a child how the club survived in the small town of Lobster Cove, but she found out it wasn’t that hard. There were other towns close enough, and people were curious.

  When Jessie was twenty, she convinced her mom to split the club into two—a public side and a private side. The minute they did, business skyrocketed. The public side was more for the tourists who were curious. It gave them a safe place to experiment or just watch. The private side was more for regulars who wanted more options and privacy.

  A year later they included the colorful masks as part of the club allure. And it worked. People loved the anonymity of being in the club, both tourists and private members. She was happy with the business aspect. Now if she could only be happy with her love life...

  What love life? Her last relationship, if one could call it that, ended when Daryl couldn’t handle what she wanted sexually. Then her mom had died.

  An image rose in her mind. The dark stranger from last night, the way his lips brushed against hers. Not too hard but not too soft. And his husky voice...

  Her nipples tightened. By the time she’d finished helping out and returned to the public area, she couldn’t find him. Damn, she hadn’t had a man since high school who could make her wet just by lifting her chin to see into her eyes. But this Dominant did and more.

  A shiver hit her body. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. A knock on the door brought her out of her musings.

  She glanced at her watch. Ten. Right on time. She went over to the door, made sure the heavy chain was in place before opening it. Lobster Cove was safe, but she also made sure she knew who was on the other side of the door.

  “Can I help you?” she asked through the narrow opening.

  “I’m Caleb. I’m here for the interview set up by Rusty.”

  He smiled at her. Jessie took a deep breath. “Just a minute.” She shut the door and held her hand against it for a second. Something nudged against her brain, but disappeared just as fast. Undoing the chain, she reopened the door. “Come on in.”

  “Thanks.” His husky voice sent a tremor up her spine.

  He wore dark slacks, a sports jacket with a white shirt beneath. When he moved, the material of his jacket shifted over his impressive shoulders and damn if his ass didn’t make her ache to touch it.

  Jessie shook her head. This was a job interview, but there was something in the way he walked that was so familiar to her. Enough. Maybe she needed to take a weekend and go to Boston and play in one of the clubs there. She shivered. Not a good idea.

  After locking the door, she turned to him. “I’m Jessie. Come on back to the office.” She gestured to the small hallway.

  “After you.” He swept his arm out and grinned.

  His grin sent a zing of awareness straight to her clit. What was wrong with her? Her body was acting out of character, and she couldn’t stop it. She led him down the hallway. “Would you like some coffee?” She gestured toward the pot.

  “Yes, please. Black is fine.”

  She refilled her mug, adding cream and sugar before filling a cup for Caleb. She handed him the mug before taking her seat behind the desk. “Did you bring your application?”

  He reached inside his jacket and handed the application to her. It was really a formality. She found the file she had on her desk. With his recommendations she wasn’t too hesitant about hiring him.

  She read his name on the application. Caleb Drake. Rusty had told her his first name, but she never put two and two together. Her head snapped up. “Caleb Drake?” She knew he looked familiar. Was he in the lifestyle now? If the rumors were true, he’d have been in it for a long time.

  “Yes.”

  “The Caleb Drake who played quarterback at Lobster Cove high school?”

  “Guilty as charged.” He grinned at her. “You grew up, Jessie.”

  And so had he. His raven hair brushed the collar of his jacket, the cut accentuating his broad shoulders. His bright blue eyes twinkled, and her gaze drifted lower to his strong chin and wide chest.

  “I can’t believe it’s you.” She shook her head. Caleb had up and left right after he graduated high school. It had been about twelve years ago. There were rumors as to why he left. She didn’t believe them but others had. “You left without a word.”

  Part of his leaving still stung. It wasn’t like they’d really been dating, but she had thought they were friends. Friends with benefits, even if all he’d ever done was kiss her. But she had thought he might take it further when she turned eighteen. Why was he back now?

  “Yeah.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It was a quick decision, but once I made my mind up, I left.”

  She nodded. He was playing his cards close to his chest. Interesting. “It says here you’ve been a DM at a club in Chicago. What made you come back here?” She picked up her coffee cup and waited.

  “I needed a change of pace.”

  Jessie almost choked on her coffee. “This is about the opposite of Chicago as you can get. But why now?”

  “I have my reasons.” He looked around the office. “I’m surprised you’re running the place rather than your mother.”

  Setting her mug down, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Mom died three years ago.”

  “Aw, shit, I’m sorry, Jessie.” He leaned forward and touched the back of her hand. The compassion in his eyes made her heart skip beats. “I know it hurts.”

  He would. His mother had died when he was sixteen, his father the day after he graduated high school.

  “Thanks.” She sucked in a breath and pulled her hand away from his heat. It was too easy for her to hang onto all the support in his eyes and touch. How was it he could affect her like this? Maybe because he was the only boy she ever considered defying her mother over. “Well, I have no problem hiring you.” She slid a se
t of papers over to him. “If you’ll fill these out, once you’re done I’ll give you the club rules.”

  “Do I get a tour?”

  “In a bit.” After he left she was going to need some time to herself to deal with her up and down emotions. “I need you to start right away, which means tonight. If you come back at five, I’ll give you a rundown on the equipment.”

  “Works for me.” He picked up the pen and began filling out the paperwork.

  ****

  Caleb watched Jessie from the corner of his eye while he filled out all the standard paperwork. Damn, she’d grown up into one hell of a woman.

  Her fingers tapped against the desk, and he had to concentrate to write. His gut told him this was his redhead from last night. Her effect on his libido confirmed it. Oh, this was going to be fun. The Jessie he remembered from high school was submissive, and she was last night, too.

  She was two years behind him in high school. They had a date or two, but they mainly hung out together. They both had wanted more than the few kisses they had shared, but he knew her age and who her mother was. Lacy Michaels had warned more than one boy away from her daughter.

  But now Jessie ran the club. He was surprised but not surprised. The club was part of the town history, and the locals loved it. The club had been handed down from daughter to daughter for generations.

  He finished filling out the paperwork and handed it back to her. “I’ll have my medical report sent to you from Chicago.” He wasn’t surprised by the requirement; it made sense to make sure he was clean.

  “Good.” She flipped through his paperwork before looking at him again. “We’re open Wednesday through Sunday.” She glanced down at his paperwork. “I won’t be able to pay you what you were making in Chicago.”

  He shrugged. “It won’t be a problem.” And it wouldn’t. He didn’t care about the money. He had enough.

  “Everyone in the club is masked. I’ll make sure you have one.”

  “Why is that?” Was that what made the club so special?

  “Anonymity. Many who play here in the private rooms live in town or close by. And the tourists find it fun.”

  “But you know who everyone is.”