Siren in the City Google

by Lexi Blake, Sophie Oak

  “You said he never kept a submissive for long.” Abby was surprised. She’d expected that Julian wanted Sam. She hadn’t expected he’d discussed anything permanent.

  “He said he was willing to sign a contract. If he wanted out, I would get a good percentage of his wealth. I guess it was kind of like a pre-nup. I don’t know what he was thinking, Abby. I knew what I wanted.”

  “And you didn’t want him,” Abby surmised.

  “No. I tried to tell him I wasn’t gay. I didn’t care that he was. That’s a person’s business, but I wasn’t. He laughed and told me I was fooling myself.” Sam’s voice was low. He looked down at the ground. “Abby, I’ve never slept with a man before.”

  Abby smiled at him. This was not news to her. “That’s because you only want one.”

  “Yeah, but I want him. What does that make me?”

  “Oh, baby, it makes you Sam.” She looked deeply into her husband’s eyes. She was only five years older than Sam, but in some ways she was worlds wiser. She’d learned to forgive herself for being human a long time ago. “You love Jack. There’s nothing wrong with that. If you wanted Julian, there wouldn’t be anything wrong with that, either. I don’t care who you wanted in the past, Sam, as long as you want me now. As it happens, I want the same thing you do. I want the three of us together in every way.”

  “But he doesn’t want that,” Sam said sadly. “I think I’m the reason he’s pulled away from us. That kiss we had, it threw him off. He hasn’t touched me since. We’re only in the same bed together because you’re in between us. We have to face facts. He’s never going to want me the way I want him.”

  Abby didn’t believe that for a second. She remembered the night of that fateful kiss. Jack hadn’t held back. He hadn’t turned away in disgust. He’d known how turned on Sam was, and it hadn’t bothered him.

  “Abby, do you think he wants me to leave?”

  “No, I don’t. You’re not going anywhere without me, Sam Fleetwood. And we’re not going anywhere without Jack.” It was time to move the night forward. They would both be miserable if they just sat up here wondering what Jack was doing. It was time to figure out if they needed to move on. Jack was going to react, or he wouldn’t. If he was mildly annoyed and asked them to go home, she would know that it was over. If he called for that public punishment Julian had mentioned, well, she would cross that bridge if she came to it. “Show me The Club, Sam.”

  “All right.”

  It was so obvious he was reluctant to follow through with this plan, but he took her hand all the same and led her out of the room. They got on the elevator. It was small and every wall was covered in mirrors. Abby smiled. This was the most decadent place she’d ever been in.

  “Hey, hold the—” a masculine voice shouted.

  The doors closed, and Sam made no attempt to stop them. He grinned down at her. “He can get the next one, baby. I want you all to myself.”

  Sam pushed a series of buttons.

  “Are we going to all those floors?” Abby wondered exactly what Sam was planning to do.

  “No, it’s a code to get to the club level of the building,” Sam explained. “Everything is done to protect the clients’ privacy. If we weren’t staying in the hotel portion of the building, we would walk through the lobby properly dressed, get into the elevator, punch in the code and go to the club level. Once there, we would change clothes in the dressing rooms and get checked in for the night. There are all sorts of security measures to help ensure that the public doesn’t figure out what goes on in here.”

  “Why so secretive?”

  “Because there are a lot of public figures into this lifestyle. When I worked here, there were politicians and judges and media people. It could hurt them professionally to get caught in a sex scandal. I know you love a good sex scandal, but I bet if feels different from the other side of the magazine cover. Did I mention how hot you look?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. She’d protested the clothes he’d chosen for her, but he wouldn’t move on the subject. She was wearing a scarlet red corset over a tight black miniskirt. She studied herself in the mirrors of the elevator. The corset did cinch in her waist, and her boobs looked pretty nice. She was wearing four-and-a-half-inch Valentino peep toes that gave her added height and made her legs look sleek. Her hair curled in soft waves around her face and she’d pinned a pretty white rose behind her right ear. She resisted putting on too much makeup. She wore only mascara and lip-gloss.

  Sam reached up, brushing his fingers over the rose. “Where did this come from?”

  “I found it on the dresser. I suppose Julian left it. Do you think it was for you or me?” The small white rose’s stem had been wrapped in satin and cut so it could be used as a boutonniere or a corsage. Or woven into long hair.

  Sam frowned for a moment. “No note or instructions?”

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Then it’s definitely for you. You’re my beautiful Abby,” Sam whispered. He dropped a kiss on her exposed shoulder. “I’m proud to show you off.”

  She smiled as the doors to the elevator opened. Despite everything she’d said to Sam about not being hungry, she had been watching her weight much more closely. She was married to two men who were five years younger than she was. Jack and Sam were prime specimens. There wasn’t an ounce of fat between them. It was hard for her to look in the mirror and truly see what they saw in her. She remembered that moment when Jack had told her not to be so hard on herself. She knew he’d meant well, but it was such a turnaround from the way he’d handled her before. Before he’d come home from the hospital, if she had called herself fat, she would have found herself over his knee for insulting something Jack considered his.

  When she thought about it, how much did she honestly know about Jack? She’d only known him for six weeks before she married him. What if this was the real Jack? And if it wasn’t, who could she blame for his withdrawal? Certainly not Sam. Jack and Sam had lived together in harmony for roughly seventeen years before they met her. Any way she considered it, she was the one who upset this particular apple cart.

  What was she going to do if Jack was tired of her? Could she leave them both behind if Jack didn’t want her anymore? The thought of going back to a life without them was more than she wanted to contemplate.

  Sam pulled her out of the elevator. “Stop worrying. This is our night. Don’t think about anything except relaxing and exploring. We can do anything we want to here and no one will think less of us. They’ll just cheer us on.”

  She squeezed his hand. The freedom The Club offered sounded enticing. “All right.”

  It would be nice not to think about the future for one night. She glanced around the room she found herself in. Her shoes sank into the thick carpet beneath her. The area was lit by a chandelier, and there was a small desk in the corner. A large man in a business suit sat at the desk with a computer in front of him. He was still. Abby wondered briefly if he played solitaire while he waited for the elevator to open.

  “I’m Samuel Fleetwood. My membership ID is 5772356.”

  The big man’s fingers carefully punched in the numbers. “Good evening, Mr. Fleetwood. Welcome to The Club. Do you require anything? I must warn you all the private dining rooms are full.”

  “No, thank you, we already ate,” Sam replied politely.

  “Then please enjoy your evening.” The host gestured to the door.

  She let herself be led toward the inauspicious door. She looked all around, well aware she probably seemed like a tourist. “I guess I expected something a bit raunchier.”

  “This is the lobby.” Sam stopped. “Are you sure you can handle this? This is really hardcore.”

  She gave him her patented stare. He wasn’t buying it for once.

  “Baby, just because you watch a whole lot of HBO doesn’t mean you’re ready for this,” Sam said not unkindly.

  But there was no way she was turning back now. She wanted to see this place. She�
��d lied to Julian earlier. If he’d kicked them out, she wouldn’t have pressed Sam to find another BDSM club. She was interested in this one for the simple fact that it had such an impact on the two men she loved. They had matured in this place. It had been their home, their first real one. She had to see it for herself.

  “You forget, I also read,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. She couldn’t help but think about Julian Lodge’s words. She would have walked in with Jack and not felt a moment’s worry. Sam would defend her to the death, but no one would even question Jack.

  “All right, let’s go.” He took her hand and led her out of the lobby.

  Abby walked through the small door and entered a different world.

  * * * *

  The elevator doors closed, and Jack felt his irritation rise. Was it so difficult to hit the open door button or put a hand out to stop it from closing? When he had a talk with the guy in the Platinum Suite, they would also cover a little thing called common courtesy.

  Jack pressed the button, and after a few moments, got in the elevator. It was a short trip to the lobby. He tried Abby and Sam’s cells one more time. His prior understanding with them was rapidly dissolving into irritation. What were they thinking not answering their damn phones?

  “Sam, you call me when you get this. Do you understand? I’m damn tired of talking to your voice mail.” He shoved the phone into his pocket.

  The elevator opened, and Jack walked into the lobby. Immediately the lobby manager was on his ass.

  “Mr. Barnes.” The older gentleman was dressed, as were all of Julian’s people, impeccably. “Mr. Lodge is running the slightest bit late. Please join Mr. Slater in the waiting room. Can I get you a drink?”

  “Scotch, neat.” He was not looking forward to his evening. There had always been some curiosity in the back of his mind about his half-siblings. He wasn’t sure, but he thought the senator had two sons and a daughter. The curiosity was completely idle and he’d never intended to satisfy it. He didn’t need to know them. He had a family. He had Abigail and Sam and his stepdaughter, Lexi. Who knew what the future held? Maybe Abigail would want another child. Maybe he could be a father.

  A vision of her with a baby in her arms assaulted him.

  He swallowed at the thought. He couldn’t handle a baby. He couldn’t handle a child. A child was small and fragile. Children died. They got hit by cars, and they fell a lot. And women still died giving birth sometimes.

  A sudden overwhelming panic hit him like a freight train. His peripheral vision started to fade.

  “Mr. Barnes?”

  He shook off the feeling and shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the fact that they were trembling. “I know the way. And make that Scotch a double.”

  He strode into the elegant waiting room where Slater was waiting. The campaign manager had a glass of red wine before him on the table. Jack didn’t like the officious prick, but now he was a nice distraction from the dark thoughts in his brain.

  “Good evening, Mr. Barnes.” Slater didn’t stand, merely inclined his head politely.

  Jack nodded and took a seat across from him.

  “I wonder what could be keeping Mr. Lodge,” Slater murmured. “You don’t think he’s down in that club of his?”

  Jack huffed, completely unsurprised that the unctuous weasel had no idea who Julian Lodge was beyond being a man who ran a sex club. “He’s probably dealing with investors. I know they used to keep him on his toes.”

  “People invest in sex clubs?”

  “Yes, actually.” He didn’t bother to mention that he’d invested in several on Julian’s advice. A few weeks before he’d invested in a new security firm run by a bunch of ex-Special Forces members that he firmly believed would turn a nice profit in a couple of years. “They also invest in real estate, stocks, and new businesses. Julian Lodge runs a group of investors that finds small companies with good ideas and gives them a bankroll to become big companies. Have you ever heard of the Masters Fund?”

  Slater’s eyes grew round. He took a careful sip of his wine and then placed it back down. “Of course I have. So Julian Lodge is one of the investors in the Masters Fund?”

  “No, I’m an investor. Julian runs the fund. Masters is simply an inside joke.” He called it that because the entire group was made up of rich Doms and Dommes from his club. Jack smiled slightly as he remembered Katherine Johannsen’s protests that Mistress should be in there, too. The Domme always brought it up at board meetings, but she hadn’t gotten Julian to budge yet.

  “That is impressive,” Slater noted.

  Jack could see him calculating the best way to use the information.

  A waiter brought in Jack’s double and quietly retreated. He took a thoughtful sip. This was one area in which Julian was right about insisting on the best. The Scotch was rich and flavorful. It was smooth. He made a mental note to ask Julian what brand this was. He decided to change the topic. Julian wouldn’t like the senator knowing too much about his business. “Why is Lucas doing this?”

  Slater’s face flushed slightly. He was a pale man, and every emotion showed on his skin. He bet Slater couldn’t play poker to save his life. “I believe Lucas is doing this for attention. He does everything for attention.”

  “From what I can tell, the boy doesn’t need any more attention,” he grumbled. “He’s on the covers of those magazines my wife reads. You would think he would want a little less attention.”

  Slater’s mouth thinned. “Some people can’t get enough. Some people have to push the limits. Lucas won’t ever stop.” He leaned in, and Jack got the feeling he was trying to look concerned. “Lucas has a terrible addiction problem. He can’t stay away from drugs and alcohol. He’s been addicted for years. The truth, Mr. Barnes, is I fear for his life. One of these days, he’s going to overdose. Or he’ll do something foolish while under the influence.”

  He took another drink of the fine Scotch and wished he hadn’t asked the question. The campaign manager’s voice was grating. He was starting to wonder why he’d ever thought it necessary to leave Abigail and Sam out of this. If they were here with him, at least he’d have something nice to look at. He could stare at his wife while everyone else was talking. Sam would say something ridiculous to make Jack laugh.

  God, he had to figure this out. He had to make a decision and stick with it.

  After that terrible day six months before, he’d made the decision to try to be less domineering. He needed to be easier on his partners or he could lose them. Abigail might find the whole submission thing fun for a while, but it would get old fast. He was a demanding man. He’d told Abigail he wouldn’t be that way twenty-four seven with her, and then immediately started making decisions for her. When he really thought about it, he’d been twenty-four seven with Sam for nearly twenty years. They simply didn’t have sex.

  And why didn’t they? He asked himself the question as the other guy droned on about all the terrible things Lucas Cameron had done. It wasn’t like the idea was repulsive to him. He was a very sexual man. Though, for the most part, he preferred women, he’d had sex with men before. When he was younger, he’d experimented briefly. At some point he realized he preferred females. Except for Sam.

  Abby wouldn’t mind, he mused as he felt a grin cross his face. He remembered the night he’d given her one request. She’d asked him to kiss Sam. Sam had been shy at first, though Jack knew he was open to the experience. He’d pulled Sam to him and pressed their mouths together. At first, he told himself he was merely indulging his almost wife. After about a minute, he couldn’t say that anymore. Sam was an intriguing mixture of soft and hard. His body and that outer armor he wore over his soul were rough and arrogant. The man inside was still looking for someone to take care of him. It brought out every dominant instinct in Jack. He’d taken care of Sam for years, but that one kiss made him wonder if Sam needed more.

  If Sam wanted more.

  “He’s not listening to you anymore, Slater.” J
ulian Lodge’s voice was highly amused. “It’s a talent of his. He can look as though he’s paying attention, but his mind is elsewhere. Believe me, I know. He honed the talent on me.”

  Jack felt a smile split his face. “I honed it years before you, Julian. You should have seen some of my report cards from grade school. And I heard everything Slater here said. None of it was important to me.”

  Julian sighed and sank gracefully into the seat beside him. He gave Jack a long-suffering look. “That’s because you’re not being very self-aware. The universe often puts us in situations that parallel important events in our lives.”

  “Oh, god, this isn’t the karma thing again?” He prepared to go deep if Julian started a lecture on eastern religious practices. He’d just replay the last Longhorns game in his mind. How had it started? Yes, Texas won the toss and elected to receive.

  Julian snapped his fingers. “I have often thought you would be an amazing practitioner of meditation, Jackson, if only you could concentrate on something other than sporting events.”

  “Sometimes I concentrate on sex,” he admitted.

  Julian shook his head toward the politico. “Never select a cowboy as your spiritual son. I offered him a world of wealth and power. He chose to hang out with cattle.”

  Jack grinned and propped his boots on the coffee table in front of him. “Cows don’t ask my opinions about art or expect me to know which fork to use when I eat them.”

  Julian threw back his head and laughed. “I missed you, Jackson. You misunderstood me before. I was merely pointing out that it is possible to learn something from the unfortunate Lucas’s current predicament.”

  “Unfortunate?” Slater set down his glass with an outraged rattle. “How can anyone call Lucas unfortunate? He’s had every advantage.”

  Jack pointed to Slater. “Sorry, Julian. I’m with him on this one. That little asshole is blackmailing me. You’re not going to get me to feel sorry for him.”