by Cathryn Cade
“Okay,” Sara said. “I’ll be there in something. Don’t know what yet.”
Daisy hung up with a promise to talk to Sara the next afternoon and Carlie on Sunday, to compare notes.
Dack was waiting for her when she walked into the club. That was good, because it had taken her ten minutes just to get the courage to step out of her car in the parking lot. Of course, five of those she spent deciding whether to take off her black yoga shorts in the car or in the locker room.
She’d put them on under the kimono, reasoning that with the knit shorts on, she sort of looked like she was going to yoga class. Also, if she was involved in a car accident, she could pretend she’d dressed casually to drive to the corner store or to her boyfriend’s place. Without the shorts, what the hell would she say to a cop or the EMTs? Oh, I just felt like going for a drive in my new undies? And if her folks had to come to the hospital, what would they think?
Probably that the chemo had addled her brains.
And what was Dack going to think if she sat in her car all evening instead of coming into the club? That was easy—that she was a coward. Sara might not be with her, but she could still woman up and do this.
Practically weeping with frustration, Sara had called her earlier to say that her widowed mother had sprained her ankle badly and needed Sara to come and stay the night with her. Daisy had commiserated with her friend, who seemed to have the world’s worst luck lately.
Daisy stepped out of the car and locked it. Then she walked across the parking lot and into the club.
Rochelle was working the desk in an eye-popping red satin bustier. Grinning saucily at Daisy’s look of astonishment, she slipped around the end of the counter to show off her red thong and matching stiletto heels. “I have devil horns too,” she confided. “Got ’em for Halloween.”
“Nice,” Daisy said sincerely. She didn’t know how the other woman could stand around in those killer heels and smile, but she felt more comfortable remembering she was not going to be the only scantily clad female here tonight. “What do the guys wear?”
Rochelle shrugged. “Whatever they want…as usual.”
The two of them exchanged a look of mutual disgust with that policy, and Rochelle buzzed Daisy into the club.
Dack was lounging on a barstool, chatting with a couple of young women in bras and panties. Daisy scowled and marched into the locker room to slip out of the yoga shorts. She locked her purse in the locker as well and set the combination. Then she untied the kimono so it hung open. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror and pulled the kimono open farther, so it framed her breasts and let everyone see that she wore nothing on her lower half but a pair of tiny bikini panties.
Taking a deep breath, she smiled at herself in the mirror. Excitement filled her. She was going to do this. Turning, she sauntered out into the club.
Dack still sat by the bar. He wore his leathers and a dark silk tank, his hair tied back. He looked like a sexy bad guy from a movie, maybe an enforcer for a drug kingpin. But when he spotted her, the look in his eye shouted “dom”. Hmm, he would definitely be the alpha bad guy. The one who ordered the heroine to submit to his appetites or be thrown in some dingy little room on his gated estate.
The two bra-and-panty chicks continued to chat as Daisy walked up. In fact, the blonde had her boobs practically on his chest. The brunette had a giggle like a cheerleader on helium, and where the hell did she think she was putting her hand?
Daisy stopped a short distance away, uncurling her fists. She was not going to get rattled or jealous—much. She was here, so the next move was his. Although he could at least offer her a drink. He and his bimbettes all had one in their hands.
She slipped past the blonde to the bar and signaled the bartender, who stepped over with his usual smile. “Jack and Coke, please.”
He poured the drink and handed it to her. Slithering out from behind Dack’s fangirls, Daisy sipped her drink as she looked around.
The level of energy in the club was high. The dancers were writhing to a Latin dance number, and everywhere scantily clad women competed with provocative outfits. Geez, she was seriously overdressed. The men had on long pants and vests or shirt, most of them in black, which emphasized the lacy fragility of the women’s lingerie.
“Petal.” It was Dack’s voice, growling a command. “Come here.”
She turned to him with a look of mock surprise. The other women had moved away. “Oh, is it my turn…sir?”
He watched her take a drink. The whiskey burned a trail down her throat, the frosty soda a sweet counterpart. But with his eyes narrowed on hers, it didn’t give her courage—that seemed to have deserted her. Oh crap, he knew she was jealous.
“Petal,” he chided. “C’mere.”
The highball glass quivering in her hand, she obeyed, stopping at his knee.
He took her glass and set it on the bar. “Take off the kimono.”
There was no room for hesitation in his look. With a quick movement of her shoulders, Daisy shrugged the kimono off. It slid down over her bare arms, and she caught it in her hands, then held it behind her.
Dack leaned back against the bar and surveyed her with a long, slow look from head to bare toes. “Don’t you look good,” he said with satisfaction.
“She sure does.” It was Mason, moving up to stand beside Dack. He winked at Daisy and cocked his head, looking her over. “I bet her ass looks fine too, if she’d just let go of that little robe.”
Dack held out his hand, and Daisy handed him the kimono. Heat scorched her skin as Dack made a twirling motion with his hand. She turned obediently, her hands pressed against her bare thighs. As she turned away from the bar, she froze. The two doms weren’t the only ones staring at her.
Many faces were turned her way, curious eyes on her, some smiling at her, some checking her out. Jake stood several feet away, arms crossed as he watched the crowd and her. What was going on? Had everyone seen her run away the last time?
She wanted to run now, away from all the curious eyes, the knowing looks. And why was Jake scowling? Didn’t he think she should be here? She flinched, and her courage shriveled, her arms trembling with the need to wrap them around herself, to run and hide.
Chapter Twelve
But if she ran now, she’d never know. Never know what it was like to have the freedom of surrendering completely to a strong man who would tell her what to do, help her reach sexual satisfaction without her having to direct him.
Slowly, Daisy turned back to face Dack. Mason was still there, but Daisy hardly noticed him. Dack was watching her closely. His eyes narrowed in satisfaction as she waited for him to tell her what to do. Then he opened his thighs and held out one arm to her. She flew into the shelter of his big body, leaning into him, feeling safe and cared for as his arm closed about her, powerful and warm. He smelled of his special scent, clean skin and faint cologne and soap. No perfume, no perspiration as if he’d been getting busy with another woman.
“You all in, Petal?” he asked her, his voice a warm rumble in his chest.
“Yes, Dack.”
“Good.” He pulled his collar from the pocket of his vest, and she took it from him, pulling it over her head and settling it around her throat.
She smiled up at him, her hand on his broad chest. “Thank you for the beautiful lingerie. How’d you know I love this color?”
“Your workout wear.” He fondled her ass, his fingers playing with the lacy edge of her panties. “Grab your drink, baby. We’re gonna go sit down and get comfortable.”
Her hand in his, Daisy followed him through the crowd to the sitting area in back. The sofas were full, but when Dack arrived, one couple rose. The guy nodded at Dack, almost as if they’d been waiting for him.
Dack nodded back. Then he sat, ignoring the couple cuddling quietly on the other end of the sofa. From the scent lingering in the air, and their looks of sleepy satisfaction, they’d just had sex.
Dack sat in the same place he had t
hat first night and held up his hand to Daisy. She took it, waiting for him to tell her where to sit or lie. Her heart was racing with excitement, and she felt alive in every pore of her being. The DJ switched from the fast dance number to a lazy song with acoustic guitars and liquid Spanish lyrics.
Dack patted his thigh, and she slipped onto it, facing away from the room and toward the other couples in the sitting area.
He took a sip of his drink, so she did too, wriggling to get more comfortable against his chest. Her legs draped over his, her bare feet hanging over his boots. He had his arm around her, his hand on her bare hip, petting her as if he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her under his hands. He set his glass aside on the end table.
“Want another drink?” he asked her.
Daisy drained her glass, breathing through the burn of the whiskey. The Club 3 bartenders mixed them strong. “Do I need one?” she asked. She was only half joking.
He shook his head once, a half smile quirking his mouth. He took her glass and set it aside. Then he looked down at her, his eyes on her breasts. “Bet you didn’t notice something about your little top,” he said. “Besides that it looks pretty as hell on you.”
Uh-oh, did the lace dissolve when the wearer got hot? If so, it was time to worry, because he was using his dom voice, all deep and growly.
He lifted his hand to her breast and cupped it, fondling her through the lace. Then he moved his hand to the other one and looked up into her eyes as he squeezed gently. She sat very still, trying not to arch into his hands, but she took a deep, shuddering breath, which had the same effect.
He pinched her nipple and rolled it between his finger and thumb until it was as hard as a pencil eraser. Sensation streaked through her. “Okay?” he asked.
Daisy nodded quickly and then closed her eyes as a familiar heat pricked behind them.
“What?” he demanded. “Talk to me, Petal.”
“I—I wasn’t sure I’d be able to—to feel anything,” she confided. “After the surgery. They said I might lose sensation.”
He flicked his thumb over her other nipple, bringing it to zinging life. “But you didn’t.”
She shook her head, smiling at him. “Oh no. I can feel—everything.”
“Feel good, little sub?”
Daisy nodded, her heart melting. She loved this, being held by this big, powerful man, his deep, rough voice twining around her as surely as rope, holding her where he wanted her.
Satisfaction darkened his eyes. “Good, then you won’t mind if I do this.” He tugged at the fold in the lace and, to Daisy’s shock, the cami parted so her nipple protruded.
He tugged on the other side, and soon Daisy sat, still wearing the cami but with her nipples and an area of pale skin peeping through the aqua lace.
“Damn, that is hot,” Dack approved, his hand flattening on her midriff, tugging the cami taut so more of her breasts showed. “I want a taste of that. C’mere. Straddle me.”
He smacked her bottom, and Daisy found herself moving to obey, her mind fuzzy with shock. The couple beside them watched, the man smiling at Daisy as she knelt, facing Dack, her thighs spread wide over his brawny thighs.
Her dom, who was holding her with his big hands on her waist and looking up into her eyes. “I’m gonna lick and suck you, Petal,” he told her. “If it hurts, what are you gonna say?”
“Um—yellow,” she remembered.
He nodded, his eyes on hers. “Good. Now bring me one of your pretty tits, sub.”
Excitement and nerves popping like fireworks, Daisy arched her back to offer her breast to him. Her nipple grazed his warm lips, and she caught her breath with pleasure.
Still looking into her eyes, he parted his lips and put out the tip of his tongue. He rolled it slowly around her nipple, a delicate, butterfly-soft caress that Daisy felt clear to her toes.
Watching her expression, he licked her nipple into his mouth and sucked on it. Daisy dug her fingers into his bare shoulders, the hard muscles and satin skin giving slightly under her grasp. He winced.
“Put your hands behind your back and lace your fingers like a good sub,” he instructed. “You can dig holes in me later, when I’m deep inside your pussy.”
She opened her mouth in protest. He shook his head, his expression adamant. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”
Slowly, Daisy let go of him and put her arms behind her back.
“Like this, sweetie,” a familiar voice rasped in her ear, and warm hands grasped hers, demonstrating how to hold her hands laced in the small of her back. It was Mason. He patted her on the ass, his hand lingering on the lower curve, and Dack nodded his thanks.
Daisy felt like a pampered show animal posed for the judges. Groomed and treated with exquisite care, but definitely not in charge. And this show was X-rated.
“That’s right,” Mason approved warmly. “Real pretty.”
She assumed he moved away then. All her attention was on the man suckling her nipple and areola deep into his mouth, enjoying her like a Creamsicle. Daisy felt the hot, wet suction and the tickling brush of his beard and mustache clear to her pussy. She writhed in his grasp, knowing his big hands on her hips would hold her safe and that he wouldn’t let her go, leave her wanting. All she had to do was let him take charge.
He let her nipple go with a pop, admiring her reddened, glistening flesh. He pressed little kisses to the plump curve of her breast. Then he turned to the other one.
This time, Daisy moaned. She couldn’t help it. She wanted to cradle his head close to her, run her fingers through his hair, muss it up.
“I want to touch you,” she told him, watching as his cheeks bowed in as he suckled her, his lashes an ebony fringe on his angular cheeks.
He gave her a dark look and shook his head slightly. Then he used his teeth to scrape gently, and Daisy shivered with pleasure. He did it again.
Her pussy was contracting now with each pull of his mouth on her sensitive flesh. She tightened her thighs on his, wishing she could ride down on one of his thighs and ease the ache of need gathering between her own.
Dack drew back and looked her over before gazing up into her face. “You’re beautiful, Petal. The hottest woman in this club tonight.”
Daisy smiled tremulously at him. “Thank you. Can we—are you going to…?”
He stroked one warm hand down over her bare hip and thigh, the other one reaching to grasp her wrists and hold them. “Am I gonna fuck you? Oh, yeah. Long and hard. Later.”
Disappointment speared through her. “Why not…now?” She blushed hotly at her own boldness, but what the hell, she wanted it and she knew he did too. And here they were at the club.
“Because you need to trust me,” he said.
“I do,” she protested. She did, really. She fought down the uncertainty niggling at her.
He nodded, his smile gone. “Then turn around and sit on my lap.”
Slowly, Daisy did as he said. As she turned to face the other couples sitting around, she suddenly remembered that her nipples were poking right out of her cami. She wanted to grab her top and pull it closed, but she knew Dack was waiting for her to do something of the kind. And if she did, he’d send her home. Away from the club, and away from him.
Her gaze collided with Mason’s and then Jake’s, who was leaning on the corner behind the other sofa. Holy crap. Looking at the floor, she sat quickly on Dack’s lap, squirming back into the shelter of his arms. His big body was heat and strength under her, his leathers supple under her legs, the muscle underneath hard.
And the long, stiff shape prodding her bottom through his leathers—she wanted that. He was aroused, and soon he’d be inside her.
He patted her thigh and then took both her hands and held them in his. “Hold on to me, Petal,” he said, his voice warm and deep in her ear. “I’ve got you, and I’m not gonna let you go. All right?”
She shrugged uncertainly. “Okay, but what—?”
“But you need to trust me comp
letely. When you’re here at the club, I decide what’s best for you and when you’re gonna get it. Right?”
She squirmed pleasurably, loving the command in his voice. “Yes, Dack.”
He gave a huff of laughter, his torso quivering under her. “Glad to hear it. But there’s still the matter of the last time you were here, sub.”
“I ran,” she admitted, turning her head to look up at him. “I’m sorry I…embarrassed you.”
He stroked the inside of her wrists with his thumbs. “Thank you. Now, Petal, you’re gonna show me two things. That you are sorry, and that you trust me.”
Foreboding seized her. As he looked beyond her, she turned her head and found Mason and Jake and the other couples all watching her and Dack. Looking at her in the scanty cami and panties, with her nipples peeping out, stiff and aroused. She could feel their gazes like a physical touch.
“Now,” Dack said. “Who wants a turn first?”
Daisy froze, ice pouring through her veins. He didn’t mean—he couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he did… Could he? Because if one of these other doms whipped out his cock, she was going to scream “red” so loud, the whole city would hear her.
Mason chuckled as he scooted off the ottoman and knelt before Daisy. “Christ, Dack, you could’ve worded that better. I think your sweet little sub expects someone to try to fuck her right here.”
Dack’s body tightened beneath her, a growl rumbling in his chest. “Anyone who tries will have his cock handed to him.” He stroked Daisy’s wrists again and pressed a kiss to her head just above her ear. “Petal, on the club questionnaire, you said you were interested in trying a little ménage.”
Daisy tried to answer, but her throat seemed to be frozen. “M-maybe…?” she whispered.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now it was the worst idea she’d ever had in her life. She’d somehow imagined herself in a much more private setting, and in control of how much and what happened.
Mason put his warm hands on her thighs, hooking his hands to stroke the sensitive skin behind her knees. “What’s your safe word, sweetie?”
