Fighting Attraction

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Fighting Attraction Page 25

by Sarah Castille


  “What do you mean?” I tremble at his touch, the harsh rasp of his voice, the strong arms holding me fast.

  “Too much pleasure. Not enough pain.” He nips my earlobe and I gasp.

  “Enjoy your dance. Because when it’s done, you’re coming with me to learn a lesson about jumping to conclusions and not talking things through.” He slides his hand around my throat and gently tips my head back so I look into his cold, hard eyes. “And if I see any mark on you other than the ones I put there, you are going to be one very sorry girl.”

  My body flames at his touch, the subtle threat in his voice, and the pressure of his hand on my throat. “Are you trying to turn me on?”

  He tightens his grip, giving me just enough air to breathe. “I don’t have to try.”

  “I can’t give you what you need, Jack. You should be with someone like that woman you were with when I saw you the very first time.”

  “I tried. I went to Club Sin last night and met up with one of my old play partners, Sylvia. She was waiting for me in my playroom.”

  Oh God. He went to the club. Of course he went to the club. I wasn’t enough, and now his career is at risk and he’s back with Sylvia. I sag in his arms, and he releases me and turns me to face him.

  “I left,” he says.

  I stare at the dance floor. Does he expect me to be happy that he played with her but didn’t take her home? Not even Bloodbath’s “Soul Evisceration” could lift my mood now.

  Jack threads his hand through my hair, tips my head back, and studies me intently. “I left, Penny.” For some reason his soft Tennessee twang seems more pronounced and Penny sounds like PINny. He never calls me Penny. Always Pen or darlin’. Why is he being so formal now? My mother was only ever formal when I was in trouble or she had something important to say, and wanted my full attention. Listen to me, Penny Grace Worthington.

  “You’re not listening to me.” His chin dips down so his face is close to mine. “I left. I didn’t play with Sylvia or anyone at the club.”

  “But you will. You need it. I understand that. Really, I do.”

  He moves closer, and his eyes grow intense. “I’ve thought of something that will work for both of us. But first we’re gonna go for a drive, sober you up, and talk this through.”

  I give an indignant sniff. “I’m not hammered.”

  “Yeah, you are. You’re fucking cute when you’re drunk—all smiley and happy, dancing around—and so goddamn sexy I couldn’t drive fast enough to the bar, ’cause I knew the guys would be all over you. But that’s the last time.”

  I give him a puzzled look. “Last time?”

  “You don’t go drinking without me again.” Jack scowls and his hand drops to my waist, fingers digging into my hip. “You don’t dance with anyone except me, and you don’t let anyone touch you except me.”

  “That would be unacceptable even if we were together.”

  “We are together, and that’s how it is when you get involved with a Redemption fighter.” He tips his chin toward our booth where a cohort of angry Redemption males is engaged in a battle with their equally angry women. Torment, in particular, looks like he’s about to explode because it’s clear Makayla isn’t in any hurry to leave.

  “That didn’t help your case.” I laugh softly. “I’m not about to be the only woman who does what she’s told.”

  “You’re the only one who doesn’t get a choice,” he snaps. “Because you’re the one who left a message on my phone telling me it was over. You’re the one who didn’t return my calls so we could talk things out. You didn’t text me. You didn’t come to me. And you went out alone without me.” He sweeps me up in his arms and carries me off the dance floor, knocking dancers aside with reckless abandon.

  Mortified, I struggle against him. “Put me down right now.”

  “We’re going for a drive, and you’re gonna hear me out.”

  “Jack, this isn’t funny.” I slap at his chest, and he huffs his annoyance.

  “You’re right. It wasn’t funny to be cut off without any explanation.” He weaves through the crowd, and I pull in my legs and arms, trying to not hit anyone. “It wasn’t funny to get your message and hear the hurt in your voice. So after we’ve sobered you up and talked it out, we’re going to Club Sin because there’s only one way I know how to get through to you. I’m gonna break down your walls, show you who I am and how strong you are, and how perfect we are for each other. Then maybe you’ll understand exactly how I feel about you.”

  I look up at him, so intense, determined, hopeful. I want this. I want him. But I don’t want him to risk his career and reputation. If he managed to avoid Gerry’s cameras last night, I don’t want to be the reason he’s caught tonight. “Okay.” I lean up, press a kiss to his neck. “I’ll go with you. But only if you wear a hat.”

  23

  I can take your pain

  RAMPAGE

  Damien is waiting when we arrive at Club Sin a few hours later.

  “What’s with the ballcap?” He snorts a laugh as I make my way down the hallway to the private members’ play space. Penny is waiting in my room. I haven’t asked her to remove any clothing because she’s never played in public before. And even if she had, I would make her wear her dress. Only Penny would wear a soft, white lace dress to a death metal bar.

  I pull the cap off my head and run my hand through my hair, now damp with sweat. “Pen asked me to wear it. She said she was worried I would be recognized going into the club. I told her we’ve never had an issue, but she wouldn’t let it go, and frankly I wasn’t about to start a fight about a cap when we’ve got bigger things to work out.”

  “I got your text,” Damien says. “Everything’s ready for you. Peter is going to be your sub tonight. He’s waiting for you in the alcove. He wasn’t happy about the shorts-on rule, but he says he’ll make an exception for the opportunity to scene with you.”

  I nod, approving Damien’s choice. Peter is a hard-core masochist and one of the most experienced subs in the club. Although I prefer women, I scene with men when I really want to let go. I can push them harder, take them higher, and in this case, I can avoid any suggestion of intimacy that might make Penny uncomfortable because I have no sexual interest in men.

  After meeting with Peter to discuss the scene and go over his limits, I call for Damien to bring Penny to the alcove while Peter gets ready. I haven’t discussed what we’re going to do, but when she sees a chair and the St. Andrew’s Cross, she clues in pretty fast.

  “You want me to watch?”

  I nod and point to the chair Damien has placed in the corner. “I’m going to restrain you right there, and you’re going to listen to Peter scream and think about the pain I’m going to give you when I’m done. Not pain like that and not more than you can take, but I will push you so we can find out just how much you need from me and how far I can go. Are you good with that?”

  Her eyes sparkle and she answers without hesitation. “Yes.”

  I shove my hand between her legs, spread my fingers so she is forced to part her thighs. Her breath catches, and her cheeks bloom. My girl is so damn responsive.

  Pushing aside her panties, I slick my finger through her folds and shove it deep inside her. “Already wet. You like the idea of watching.”

  She grips my shoulder to steady herself. “I thought it was so incredibly hot when I saw you in the alcove the first time. So hot, I…” Her blush deepens, and I frown.

  “From now on, if you have needs of any kind, you come to me.” I push a small bullet vibe inside her and show her the remote. “I’m gonna enjoy watching you squirm.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Her face pales. “Peter will be here. The alcove is open.”

  “You got a problem with that, tell me now. You’ve got your safe word. I expect you to use it when you need to. No lies.” I flick the remote switch, and her
eyes widen as the vibrator comes to life.

  “I’m good.” She hisses out a breath. “I can take it.”

  I brush a kiss over her cheek. “I know you can.”

  Peter arrives after I’ve secured Penny to the chair, her wrists cuffed to the arms and her ankles to the legs. I introduce her to Peter, and we talk about the scene and their experience in the club. Although Penny is just watching, she will be as much a part of the scene as Peter, and I want them to feel comfortable with each other. Finally, I take Peter over to the cross and fasten cuffs around his wrists and ankles. He’s a welder, in his mid-forties, his skin bronzed by the sun, his muscles thick and hard. I won’t have to hold back anything tonight. I can let it all go so I can be with Penny the way she needs me—fully, completely, and totally in control.

  “You okay?” I turn up the vibrator with one hand and grab a flogger with the other. Penny makes a noise that sounds halfway between a grunt and a whimper, and I turn the speed back down. I don’t want to get her too worked up too fast. I have plans for her tonight.

  * * *

  PENNY

  Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I watch Jack’s muscles ripple as he cracks the whip over Peter’s back, already red from his earlier flogging. Peter screams, his back bowing inward to get away from the sting of the lash, but there is nowhere to go.

  Jack raises his arm again, and I tremble in anticipation. I have only ever seen him this focused and intense in the cage, his muscles taut, jaw clenched, body vibrating ever so slightly before he unleashes his power with each brutal strike. His skin is slick with sweat, and his black T-shirt clings to every ridge of his muscular torso. His is breathtaking and terrifying, fierce and furious, and yet every time he stops to allow Peter to catch his breath, his gaze is warm on mine.

  Deceptive. Because beneath those icy-blue depths lies the heart of a true sadist.

  The vibrator kicks up a notch, and I glance over to see him watching me, one hand in his pocket, the other dangling the whip on the floor. He knows how close I am, how much I ache, how desperate I am to come. And yet he keeps me on edge, brings me up and takes me down, making me whimper for his sadistic pleasure.

  His biceps flex and strain, and then he releases his next strike with such incredible force the crack of the whip explodes through the alcove. Peter howls in anguish, yanks against the restraints, thick muscles straining with the effort to get free. Energy pulses between us, binding us all together. Jack is clearly in his element—his face is dark with power, alive with pleasure. I think of all that intensity focused on me, and I feel my knickers dampen.

  I could never take that much pain. There is a freedom in knowing that no matter how I tried, I would never be able to give Jack this. I am limited by biology and not by the lack of strength or courage or fortitude. Maybe this is what he wanted me to see.

  Jack works Peter up to the point his screams turn to moans and his muscles unclench as he floats on an endorphin high. Master Damien arrives to help lift Peter down from the cross, and together they help him walk to the couch in the corner and wrap a blanket around his shoulders.

  “How are you doing?” Jack squats down beside me and gives me a look that says he knows exactly how I’m doing after spending more than an hour watching his powerful body in action while tied to a chair with a vibrator buzzing inside me.

  “Good, thanks. And you?” Regardless of the situation, it never hurts to be polite.

  Jack chuckles. “I feel physically sated but not satisfied.” He traces a finger around and around my nipple, taut beneath my clothing, until I squirm in the chair.

  “I know that feeling. It’s lovely for a little while, but it doesn’t last.”

  “Oh, this is going to last.” He crouches down in front of me and draws lazy circles along my inner thigh, pushing up my dress as he goes. “You’re so hot, you were burning up the room. You liked watching me hurt someone.”

  “Yes,” I whisper so Master Damien and Peter don’t hear. “But only because it was you. If I had to watch someone else do what you did, it wouldn’t turn me on.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He pushes my knickers aside, and rubs his fingers along my slit. “You’re so wet, I would have known if you were lying to me.”

  I gasp when he pushes a finger inside me. “I would never lie to you, Jack.”

  “Good. Because it is the one thing I cannot stand. Avery lied. She told me she loved me when she was fucking Beau behind my back. She told me she would keep my secret, and the next day she shared it to the world.” He pulls the tiny vibrator out of my pussy, and I moan as it slides over my sweet spot.

  “Poor baby.” He wraps his hand around my hair, pulls it tight. “So wet. So needy. So desperate to come. I’ve only just warmed you up. It’s going to be a long time before you get your release. You wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  As if I could move with my hands and ankles bound. But now I have something to keep me company. Fear.

  After Jack finishes tending to Peter and cleaning up the play space, he unlocks my restraints and rubs my ankles and wrists to bring back the circulation. With one strong arm around my waist, he helps me from the chair and steers me out of the alcove.

  “Where are we going?”

  He gives me an evil smile. “I’m taking you to the dungeon. It’s your turn for pain.”

  * * *

  A door slams, making me jump. My hands fly to the blindfold around my head, but before I can touch it, someone slaps my hands away. Trembling, I try to orient myself in the darkness.

  After the scene with Peter, Jack had me change out of my dress and into his oversized club T-shirt with my bra and knickers on underneath. Then he brought me down to this dark, dank room under the club, blindfolded me, and left me sitting on the hard bed with instructions not to move.

  “What’s going on? Jack?”

  “Why are you here?” The voice above me is low, rough, and unfamiliar.

  “What?” My heart thuds in my chest. “I came here with Jack…er, Master Jack. Who are you?”

  “Security.” He pulls off the blindfold and shines a flashlight on his chest. Blinking as my eyes adjust to the light, I see the familiar black security vest the bouncers and monitors wear at Club Sin.

  “What are you hiding?”

  “Nothing. I…” My words trail off when he grabs my hair and pulls me off the bed. I let out a scream as I fall to my knees on the floor.

  “Stop. Wait. Where’s Jack?”

  Laughter echoes in the room, but in the flicker of the flashlight I catch a glimpse of a familiar profile.

  “No one is coming for you. It’s just you and me and the secret you don’t want to share.”

  “Secret?” I try to turn my head to confirm it was Jack I just saw, but he forces me back.

  “Everyone who comes here has a secret. You will tell me yours.” He yanks my hair, pulling me up, and marches me over to a chair in the corner. “Sit.”

  “Jack?” I sit on the curious wooden chair that has a cutout in the middle of the seat.

  “What is your safe word?” he growls as he sets the flashlight on the floor.

  Safe word. It is Jack. And we’re playing, just like we talked about in the car on the way to the club. Role-playing. A thrill of excitement runs through me. I’ve been caught by security, and now he wants to know my secret. Well, it’s not a secret I will ever divulge.

  “Redemption.” I struggle in his grip, let him know I want to play. “And you’ll never get the secret out of me.”

  “Hands behind your back.”

  I’ve never heard Jack so abrupt, his voice so clipped. If I hadn’t caught that quick glimpse of him in the shadows, heard his voice soften the tiniest bit when he mentioned my safe word, I might worry about being locked in the dungeon with a sadist I don’t know.

  Hands trembling, I cross my wrists behind the chair
. Jack kneels behind me and cuffs them together. The snap of the handcuffs makes me jump, and I tug on the unforgiving steel. Ray will have a fit tomorrow when he sees the bruises on my wrists.

  Jack pulls a long bar from his bag and attaches the cuff on one end to my ankle. With a yank, he spreads my legs apart and repeats the process on the other side. My legs are spread wide, unable to close because of the thick bar between them. Wearing only his big T-shirt and my underwear, I feel open and vulnerable. Adrenaline shoots through me in a panicked wave.

  “Breathe.” His voice echoes in the semi-dark room, his commanding tone ringing around me.

  I take a deep breath and another, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest and not the man in the dungeon and what he is going to do.

  “Anything too tight?” He clicks on a spotlight above the chair, and my eyes widen at the formidable sight. In his dark shirt and leathers, massive black boots, the heavy security vest, and the cap I made him wear, he looks at once terrifying and breathtaking, like he has let his darkness free.

  “No.”

  He folds his arms over his chest, his massive biceps swelling above his hands. “You are being retained on suspicion of withholding information that should have been disclosed to one Jack Caldwell. What is your name?”

  “Penny Grace Worthington.”

  He scowls as if I’ve just said the name of a serial killer. “What were you doing in Club Sin at the time of your arrest?”

  A smile tugs at my lips. “Sitting in the dark.”

  Without another word he reaches into his bag and takes out various toys and implements, placing them carefully on a table at the edge of the circle of light.

  My mouth goes dry as I look over the array of toys, from two-pronged vibrators to whips and floggers, and from clamps to things I can’t even identify.

  Jack picks a pair of scissors and stands in front of me. “You will tell me everything I want to know.”

  “What if I don’t?” The words drop from my lips before I can catch them, and I am surprised by my own audacity. But with Jack I feel strong, bold, wanted. And worthy.

 

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