by Cathryn Cade
Daisy nodded tightly. He was right; the club was a pressure cooker of sexual excitement, some of it kinky. But she needed to make one thing clear.
“Fine. I understand that. But if you’re going to…to be with other women when I’m not there… I can’t do this, Dack. You’re like a big chick magnet.”
“Nah, that would be Trace.”
She gave him a look. “Every time I look at you at the gym and the club, you have women hanging all over you. And I meant what I said. I won’t share you. I couldn’t. It would tear me up inside.”
He nodded, his gaze tender. “I swear, no worries there, Petal. You are more than enough woman for this son.”
“Are you…are you sure?” she asked.
He moved, turning more toward her and pulling her closer, their bodies flush, still damp from their joining. “’Course I’m sure. Baby, I told you, the minute you walked into the gym—bam. That was it for me. I haven’t been with another woman since. Haven’t even wanted one.”
“Really?” When he nodded, evidently ready to reassure her as long as need be, she smiled and kissed him to show her appreciation. It turned long and hot.
When they finally drew apart, she laid her head on his shoulder again, luxuriating in the feel of his body against hers. She couldn’t get enough of his scent and the feel of his skin under her fingertips. She was sated but still greedy. But he was all hers, she hoped for a long, long time. And she was going to enjoy every moment of it.
“How did Carlie and Sara get your phone number, anyway?”
“I gave it to Sara after Kevin attacked her. She didn’t want to go for sexual assault counseling, so I told her to call me or you or Carlie if she got scared or didn’t want to be alone.”
Daisy nodded somberly. “I’m glad you did. Thank you for being there for her.”
He searched her gaze with his, tracing the curve of her cheek with his fingertip. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re there for her now, so quit spanking yourself over it. That’s my job.”
She turned her head to kiss his hand, fluttering her lashes at him over it.
He cupped her head, waggling it gently. “Tease. I fuckin’ love your hair short like this,” he said. “Never thought I’d go for butch, but on you it’s sexy as hell.”
“Butch?” She wrinkled her nose. “Twila’s butch, and she has long hair and bigger implants than me.”
He laughed at her reaction. “True that. You like her?”
“I do. She was really sweet that night I freaked and ran out on you.”
He watched as he traced her hairline with his fingertips. “She’s a good person. Twila is one of our go-to enforcers at the club. She helps us keep an eye on things upstairs.”
Daisy’s curiosity focused. “Yeah, about that… What exactly goes on up there?”
Dack smiled, his pirate’s wicked smile. “Baby, if you’re real nice to me, I’ll let you find out.”
She shook her head, alarm coursing through her. “No, no. That’s okay. The main floor has more than enough excitement for me.”
“Come on, now, that’s what you said about a little ménage, till I made you try it.”
“I’m serious,” Daisy said. “I’m not into pain and all that stuff. You’re the excitement for me.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. Now come up here so I can give you some more of that.”
She crawled up on top of him, desire surging all over again as his cock twitched against the inside of her thigh. She couldn’t wait.
“Come on, Petal. Hurry it up, or I swear to God, I’m leavin’ you in the truck.”
Daisy wrinkled her nose at Dack, who stood by the open passenger door of his pickup, scowling. In his long-sleeved black shirt and slacks, he looked every inch the dom. She knew he wouldn’t really leave her, but he was making her fingers fumble even more.
Plus, she wanted to just sit and stare at him. He’d gotten a haircut. Her pirate had shown up at her door with his wavy brown locks cut ruthlessly short, with no part, just a short cap of glossy dark brown. Thank God he’d kept his beard and mustache.
He looked just as sexy and handsome, but in a much more GQ way now. Although, come to think of it, he kind of reminded her of a sexy Greek warrior too. She could definitely picture him in a short skirt-thing, a shield strapped across his gorgeous chest, a sword in his hand.
When she’d opened the door and then stood and stared, he’d shifted restlessly, run a hand over his head and then grinned at her. Told her if he was going to be meeting her dad, he should probably look like a good prospect and not a biker.
He looked so hot it had been all Daisy could do not to drag him into her bedroom and have her way with him. Now she wished he’d quit distracting her.
“I’m hurrying. My sandal strap is twisted, and it hurts.” She had her favorite black sandals on, to go with her little black sundress. Dack had just grunted when she asked him if it was a theme night, and told her to wear whatever she liked, because he was just going to take it off of her.
“But you like twisted, Petal,” he teased.
She made a face at him. “Only you.”
“Just leave the damn things here. I’ll carry you.”
“No, I’m not leaving them here. I want to dance, and bare feet stick to the floor.” Why was he rushing her so much? She just wanted to enjoy their first night at the club as a couple.
With the sigh of a put-upon male, he leaned in the open door, grasped her ankle gently and tugged. “Here, let me do it.”
She sat and smiled at his bent head, watching the way the evening sun made the short, silky strands of his hair glisten. Unable to resist, she reached up and ran her fingers through it one more time as he straightened the thin black strap.
He looked up at her from under his brows. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re not gonna make it inside.”
She offered her mouth, and he kissed her. Then he groaned. “Come on, I haven’t nailed a girl in my truck since I was in high school, and I’m too old to do it now.”
Not to mention this was a little too public even for him, she thought with an inward snicker.
“Okay, I’m ready.” She slid off her seat, and he closed the door behind her.
“About time.” He grabbed her hand and towed her with him across the parking lot. Daisy scurried up the steps and into the club, feeling like she was in the wake of a Dack-sized speedboat. They were going to have to have a little talk about letting her go at her own pace, outside the club, that was. Okay, outside of his bedroom too, because he was in charge there just as surely as he was here. Not that she’d have it any other way.
Rochelle stood behind the desk in a black bustier and a tiny pink skirt. She smiled at Dack and winked. “Hi, boss. All set.”
Daisy’s nerves kicked up a notch. “What’s all set?”
“Never you mind.” Dack turned on her, his key hanging from his hand. “Put this on. I don’t want any of the other doms looking at you tonight.”
Daisy smiled up at him as she slipped the collar over her head and adjusted his key in the hollow of her throat. She knew very well he wanted them looking at her, just not touching. Unless he gave his permission, the fiend. “As if I’d look back.”
He gave her his dom look. “You remember that, or I’ll paddle your ass.”
“Ooh,” said Rochelle with a wiggle of her shoulders. “Sounds fun.”
“Yeah, I’d threaten to spank your pussy,” he added in Daisy’s ear. “But you like that too much. C’mon.” Dack slipped his arm around her, so that when they walked through the door, she was slightly in front of him.
“Wait,” she said, stopping uncertainly. “Why is it all dark in here?”
Dack chuckled, giving her a squeeze. “Because…it’s Pink Night.”
“Surprise!” As the word burst from nearly a hundred voices, the lights came on. Daisy’s heart nearly stopped. She was facing a crowd of Club 3 members posing like the cast of a sexy Broadway revue. Every single one of them wore pink.
From T-shirts to shorts, dresses to bustiers, and even some rather shocking fetish wear, everyone had at least one pink garment on. From pale to hot, the hues promised frivolous fun, but to Daisy it meant so much more.
“Oh my God,” Daisy breathed, hands to her face. Tears filled her eyes, and she smiled at them. “Hi, everybody. You look…amazing. And hot.” Okay, a few of them just looked weird, but with such sweet smiles on their faces, who could ever tell them that?
Someone laughed, and the crowd broke up.
Daisy turned to Dack, who was unbuttoning his shirt. “You did this?” she asked, her heart melting.
He grinned at her. “We all did. It’s a fund-raiser. Everyone had to pony up extra to be here tonight.”
“Oh,” Daisy swiped sudden tears from her cheeks. “This is so…sweet.”
“Hey, what about her?” Trace demanded, stepping forward. He looked like a handsome male stripper in tight black slacks, suspenders and a pink bowtie around his tanned throat. “Daisy’s not wearing pink.”
“Where’s Sara?” Dack scanned the crowd. “And Carlie?”
To Daisy’s shock, Sara emerged from the crowd. Daisy giggled at her friend’s pink outfit, which was, predictably, Lycra shorts and a bra top. She held a shopping bag with a familiar logo.
Daisy took it slowly. “Uh-oh.”
Carlie laughed, following Sara out of the crowd. She wore a deep pink halter dress and a pink flower in her hair. “Come on, we’ll help you dress.”
Daisy looked up at Dack and then did a double-take. He now held his black shirt in his hand. He grinned at her, smoothing one hand down over his powerful torso, clad in a snug pink T-shirt with a stiletto heel on his chest.
“You kept the shirt,” she managed.
“Damn straight. Now go on, change into your special outfit.” He waggled his brows, and Daisy felt a thrill of delicious trepidation run through her.
She followed her friends into the women’s locker room. Carlie and Sara wouldn’t sell her out with something that was too skimpy, would they?
From the grins on their faces, she wasn’t too sure.
They sat down on either side of her on the sofa in the locker room.
“Wow, Dack looks really different with his hair cut,” Carlie marveled. “He reminds me of someone.”
“Gerard Butler in 300,” Sara supplied instantly.
Daisy looked at her. “Oh my God. That’s it. I immediately pictured him with one of those leather straps across his chest.” She mimed a fierce warrior pose and then sighed.
Carlie poked her, giggling. “Look at you, all mushy-gushy. What happened to ‘just good sex’?”
“Dack happened,” Daisy said happily.
“Well, I think you definitely happened to him too,” Sara said wisely. “When a guy gets his hair cut for a woman, that means he’s ready to meet the parents and all that.”
Daisy stopped with her hands in the shopping bag. “Holy crap. How did you know that?”
Her friends smiled at her, and she blushed. It had been a surprise only to her, apparently.
They watched as she opened the bag. She fished in the tissue paper and drew out a small garment with a pink satin body banded in white. “What is this?” she asked, mystified.
“Does this help?” Carlie dug in the bag and drew out a headband, complete with a pair of pink satin ears. Sara grabbed the bag and added a black bowtie collar.
“Holy crap,” Daisy blurted. “A Playboy Bunny costume?”
Her friends cracked up, and at that moment, Twila sauntered in. She set her hands on her pink chaps-covered hips and gave the three of them a narrow-eyed look. “Need any help getting her into that?”
“No, thank you,” Daisy said, shooting off the sofa. “Dack didn’t send you, did he?”
“Nah, I just wanted to see what he came up with for his sub.”
Daisy exhaled with relief as she unzipped her dress. She wouldn’t put it past him to have the domme smack her ass for being too slow.
When Carlie and Sara were silent, she glanced down to see them exchanging a meaningful look. “What?”
She stepped out of her dress and picked up the tiny outfit. It wasn’t too bad, more like an old-fashioned swimsuit than anything else. She carefully unzipped the back. Thank God the fabric was stretchy, so it would fit…probably.
“His sub?” Carlie murmured, her blue eyes wide. “Really, Daise?”
Daisy could feel her cheeks heating, but she nodded. “He likes to be in charge all the time when it comes to sex.” She smiled wickedly at her friends. “And I like to let him.”
“Oh, good,” Sara said, holding up a pair of dark fishnet stockings with a smile. “Then you won’t mind that he wanted you to wear these with the outfit.”
Daisy rolled her eyes as the other women laughed.
Pink Night was in full swing, with a song by the nominal singer herself blasting, the dance floor full and drinks coming across the bar as fast as the three bartenders could run the big blenders. The night’s specialty drink was strawberry margaritas, and he’d get one for his Petal if she ever got the hell out here, but Dack was sticking to beer tonight. He was sipping on a cold bottle of Drop Top.
Jake stood beside him, in his usual Levis and leather vest, a pink carnation boutonniere his concession to the theme.
Dack tugged at his own T-shirt. The damn thing was too tight, as well as being a girly hue he’d never thought would grace his body, but the look in Daisy’s eyes when she’d seen it made it worth digging through the damn Dumpster outside his condo to get it back.
He’d tossed it in anger, but later, after he’d talked to his mom and Jake and Trace and Mason, he’d dug it out again. In the nick of time too, as the garbage truck had come chugging around the circle just as he found his trash bag among his neighbors’.
The garbage crew had not been happy to find an array of trash sitting on the pavement instead of in the Dumpster where their mechanical loader could handle it. He’d tipped them each a twenty, though, and they’d ridden off with a grin and a wave.
He’d taken the shirt and himself straight to the wash. He’d left his old sneakers outside, dumped his clothes and the T-shirt in the washing machine and himself in a long, hot shower. Smelled like an elephant had died in that Dumpster. The hot wash water might have something to do with the shirt’s snug fit.
“Nice crowd,” Jake said, looking around the club room with cool satisfaction.
“Uh-huh,” Dack agreed absently, his eyes on the women’s locker room door.
“Nice of Carlie to help us plan this,” Jake went on. “She’s a smart woman. Too bad she looks like she’s a lamb and I’m the big bad wolf every time I get within ten feet of her.”
“Yeah,” Dack agreed. If Daisy didn’t show her pretty ass, and soon, he was going in there, never mind that it was one area of the club that was inviolate to males. Then Jake’s words caught his attention, and he turned back to his friend.
“Wait a minute. Did you just express interest in a woman who wasn’t strapped to a spanking bench or other surface?”
Jake scowled at him, his square jaw bunching. “What? I just said she’s smart.”
Okay, this was weird. Jake had an absolute policy of no vanilla dating. He interacted with women here at the club, helping them act out their kinky fantasies. He “smacked ’em, cracked ’em, and sent ’em home”, as Trace so laconically put it.
But although Jake was a stern dom and didn’t flinch at inflicting a little pain if that was what a sub wanted, he was careful and tender with them afterward. He also lost interest in subs as soon as he hugged them good-bye and only scened with the same ones twice because there were fewer brave enough to go upstairs instead of romping down here.
“What the fuck are you lookin’ at?” Jake took a long pull on his beer.
“Nothin’.” Dack shook his head, biting the inside of his own cheek to quell the grin that wanted to spread over his face. Right now the ex-military dom was giving off defe
nsive vibes that would stop a bullet. Hell, Dack wanted to laugh out loud. Must be because he was happy, but he wanted his taciturn friend to find a woman who would make him feel like a million bucks too. And if it chanced to be the voluptuous Carlie, well, she was one of Daisy’s best friends.
His spidey sense tingled, and he turned, then froze. Daisy stood in the doorway, the light behind her gilding her bare skin and pale hair with gold.
She looked around. When she found him, she set one arm high on the doorframe and her other hand on her hip and cocked it, posing like a hot, old-fashioned seductress.
“Jesus,” he breathed. “Would you look at that?” She was so beautiful, she stopped his heart and sent need and lust roaring through him, straight to his cock.
The tiny garment nipped in her waist and shoved her breasts up high, soft flesh plumping up over the white band and cleavage spilling down between the pink vee in the center. Her hips swelled from the high-cut legs, and her strong, rounded legs, clad in fishnet stockings, went on forever. And above it all, her face, high cheekbones, soft mouth and those green eyes that twinkled with sultry, inviting heat just for him.
“The bunny ears are real cute,” Jake said.
“She have a tail?” Trace stopped on Jake’s other side. “Get her to turn around, will you?”
Dack glared at them warningly. Horndogs that they were, his friends were staring at her.
“If she does, it’s mine,” he growled. “Every inch of that belongs to me.”
Trace poked Jake with his elbow, and the two of them chuckled. Hell, let ’em laugh, because he was the lucky bastard she’d be with, not either of them. Dack grinned smugly at his friends and sauntered forward to claim his woman.
She smiled up at him, her eyes bright. Oh man, he hoped she wasn’t going to cry. “You like it?” she asked, sounding a little anxious. How the hell a woman who looked like her could be uncertain of her sheer sexiness was beyond him.
“Yes, I do,” he said fervently, letting his eyes trail down over her bodacious breasts and the rest of her, just waiting for his hands and his touch.
