Rider smiled. “Are you asking me a question?”
“No. I…” She shook her head again and then sat straighter.
He changed the subject. “You’re not a very good submissive.”
She swallowed hard and said nothing.
Rider leaned back. He wanted to assess her further. But that wasn’t the only reason. His dick needed more space. If he could stretch out, maybe the fellow would simmer down. God, it had been eons since a woman had affected him like this, and longer since someone outside the fetish world had managed such a feat. Something about her combination of innocence and age lured him in. Now that he was closer, he had to admit she might be over thirty, intriguing him more.
He’d always been attracted to older women, even in his teens. They knew what they wanted and weren’t quite so…green. Except this woman. What was up with his attraction to her? She was older than him, but she was also very innocent. The way she fidgeted and lowered her eyelashes made his blood pump faster.
He shook the thought from his head. “And yet you keep coming here.” He lowered one hand and drummed his fingers on the table, trying to read her. “Let me see if I can read you correctly.” He glanced around the social area and spotted Emily’s friend. “You came here the first time with your girlfriend because she begged you to. Before that, you’ve never been inside a BDSM club, or even considered it.
“You came here the second week because your friend asked, but by then you were intrigued, not enough to participate or put yourself out there, but enough that you found yourself titillated by the activities. Curiosity had a hold of you.
“Tonight is your third trip. Your friend has made other friends. She’s working the room, trying to select someone she feels is safe for her first foray into this world. You don’t think you’re ready, but you also didn’t want your friend to come here alone. It might not be safe.
“And then there’s me.” Rider leaned forward again. Fuck the hard-on he suffered from. His face was inches from hers. “I’ve seen you following me with your gaze. You’re attracted to me, but you’re scared out of your mind to act on it.” He paused.
Her eyes widened and her mouth opened again. She didn’t appear to have breathed throughout most of his monologue.
“Did I get most of that right?”
She hesitated and then nodded.
“Good. Then we’re getting somewhere.” Rider sat back again, needing space. He’d gotten close enough to smell her fruity shampoo and body soap. Hell, her lip gloss was some fruity flavor also, maybe cherry. And he hadn’t even tasted it.
She held his gaze.
Rider broke eye contact to take in the rest of her. “You haven’t managed to bring yourself to dress the part. Don’t get me wrong. You’ve done a little better each week, but you’re still overdressed for Extreme.”
She nodded again, glancing down at her blouse and then her skirt. The skirt was shorter than what she’d worn the other two weeks. Yes, he had to admit he noticed. But it was still too long for his taste and the floral pattern was more fit for chaperoning a high school dance than a BDSM club. He liked the fact it was full, however. That would come in handy.
He lifted his gaze to her chest and held steady, knowing she was aware of his perusal. Her blouse was white. Not bad exactly, but the bra he could glimpse under the sheer material was too functional. The blouse wouldn’t be too inappropriate, if she lost the bra altogether, unbuttoned the front, and tied the tails in the middle.
He longed to see her nipples. Instead, he lifted his gaze and cleared his throat. “I don’t take on newbies.”
She didn’t move.
“But I do find you sexy. Would you like me to give you a few pointers? Some guidance? If you’re planning to keep coming to Extreme, it might help if you knew the ropes better.” And it might help me work you out of my system. Surely he wouldn’t still be attracted to her after spending some time with her. After all, her innocence would make her a horrible submissive and drive him to lose interest fast.
“That would be nice. Thank you.” A flush covered her face.
He wondered how low it extended. Would her breasts be rosy from her embarrassment? Rider tapped his fingers again. “First things first. Submissives do not look their Dom in the eye unless it’s requested of them.” He watched her face turn redder, but her gaze remained on his until he raised an eyebrow again. He would push her, just enough to prove his point—she couldn’t handle his world. And then he could walk away easily.
“Oh.” She gasped and lowered her face. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. At least not the first time. I do expect you to remember my instructions, though.”
“O-okay.”
“That brings up your next faux pas. Always address your Dom as Sir. Some Doms prefer Master. I’ve always been fond of Sir.”
“Okay.”
“What?”
“Okay, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir, would be more appropriate.”
“O— I mean, yes, Sir.”
“Good. You’re catching on. Eyes cast down. Always address me as Sir.”
She tipped her face lower until her blonde curls fell across her features, hiding her completely.
“It’s only necessary to lower your gaze, not your entire head.”
“Oh. Yes, Sir.” She jerked her head back to center.
“Now, let’s discuss your clothes.”
She shivered.
He’d give anything in the world to see if her nipples were pebbled. But her damn bra was too thick. Women and their stupid pushup bras. Why did they think men preferred fake cotton boobs over the real deal? As far as Rider was concerned, he’d rather have an eyeful, or a handful, of pert natural breasts than have them hidden under a false disguise.
“Rule number three. Don’t hesitate to follow an instruction.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Take off your panties.”
Emily froze. He’d known she would. He’d intentionally pushed her to the edge of her comfort zone and then let her topple over the precipice. “Here?”
“Yes.”
“Now?” She lifted her gaze to his.
“You’ve only learned three rules and you’re already breaking them all.” Surely this wouldn’t take long.
Her mouth opened again.
Rider waited. He fought to keep from smiling. He fought to keep from pressing his hand against his dick. Hell, he fought to keep from reaching across the table and licking the gloss right off her lips to confirm what the flavor was.
What the hell are you thinking? The woman can’t do this. She isn’t submissive. But Rider knew subconsciously he was lying to himself. She was eager to learn and trembling splendidly with every instruction.
Emily lowered her entire head in a sharp movement before she remembered it was her gaze he was concerned about and corrected herself. “Sorry, Sir.” She tugged her hands from under her thighs as though they’d been glued to the vinyl bench. She set her fingers on her lap and glanced around the bar area.
“Don’t concern yourself with anyone else. The only person who matters right now is me. Besides, Extreme is filled with Doms and subs. Few people in this club have the time or inclination to pay attention to one wayward newbie in a dark corner removing her panties under the table.”
Emily sat still for several moments. Finally, she lifted her butt the scant inches necessary, tucked her hands under her skirt, and squirmed as she dragged her panties over her ass, across her thighs, and down her legs.
Fuck me. Rider held his hand open in front of her, palm up. “I’ll take those.” He tried to control his voice. Damn.
Emily gasped. Her fingers shook as she brought the fistful of her panties above the table and set the wad on his palm.
Rider wanted to lift the panties to his face and inhale her scent, but he would content himself with knowing he could do that later. Instead, he stuffed the treasure in the pocket of his jeans, leaning to one side to make the opening more accessib
le. He gritted his teeth when his hand brushed against his cock through the pocket.
When he’d righted himself, he spoke again. “Now, lift yourself off the bench and pull your skirt out from under your ass. Sit with your bare skin on the vinyl.”
Emily hesitated again, but she didn’t look around this time. She did as he told her.
“Spread your knees. I can’t see well from here, so I’m going to have to assume you’re following my instructions.”
She flinched, but her wiggling told him she’d complied, at least to a certain extent.
“Do I make you horny?” He didn’t bother lowering his voice.
“Yes, Sir.” She gripped the edge of the table again.
“I need verification.”
She sucked in a breath and waited.
“Dip two of your fingers into your pussy as far as you can. Show me how wet you are.”
“I—I can’t do that… Sir. Not here.” She glanced around again.
“Do you want to learn the ropes or not?” He leaned closer into her space. He knew he made her more uncomfortable than she’d ever been in her life. He also knew it was necessary. Her actions following his command would determine the rest of their relationship with each other. If Emily could obey this instruction and the one he intended to give her next, he would know deep inside, she was submissive. There would be hope. For her or for me?
It was insane, really. He’s said himself that he didn’t take newbies. Ever. Why then was he so attracted to this one he felt the need to pressure her, test her, find out what she had in her?
Because you want her more than you want your next breath. It didn’t matter that it made no sense or that he’d never been with a woman so uneducated in his ways. What mattered was he needed to have her on a level so basic he was about to come in his jeans.
He’d never fuck her tonight. Hell, he didn’t intend to so much as touch her. He just wanted to push her one more step and leave her with something to consider. If she came back next week, he’d take her under his wing and tutor her. If not, no harm no foul.
Tell that to my cock.
“Emily.” He waited until he had her full attention. “You’re here. You’ve come here three times now. I’m not asking you to display your pussy to the entire room at large on your first foray into BDSM. I’m simply asking you to demonstrate your arousal level to me. Not one person is going to notice except me.
“Now, push two fingers into your pussy and draw them out for me to see.”
Emily’s hand shook as she released the table and reached under it.
Rider suddenly hated the table more than anything. He wanted to split it in half with his hand in a karate chop so he could watch her lift her skirt and slip her shaky fingers underneath it. He wanted to see her core, smell her essence, taste her arousal. But not tonight.
Emily lifted her butt off the bench. She set her free hand on her thigh, probably holding her skirt in place so it didn’t rise higher than she wanted.
There was no doubt what moment in time her fingers touched her pussy. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. And the next moment, she moaned as she leaned farther forward.
Rider almost moaned with her. So wanton.
She was that raw. Pure. Sexy as hell. And she had no idea.
Her hand trembled as she brought it above the table, lowering her ass back to the bench.
“Ah, so wet for me, baby.” Copious amounts of her arousal coated her fingers.
And now for the final test. “Suck them clean, Emily. Taste yourself. Learn your flavor.”
Emily remained still, her hand in the air in front of him, her middle fingers curling slightly as she pondered her choices.
When she made her decision, bringing those fingers to her lips and tentatively letting them slip into her open mouth, Rider almost came. He watched without blinking. His eyes burned with the image. He’d never forget the moment as long as he lived.
Emily challenged him too. She lifted her gaze to his and teased him mercilessly as she sucked first one finger clean and then the other. He’d created a monster. The little imp knew exactly what she was doing.
His chest pounded. His skin felt overly hot. He would need to masturbate at some point tonight.
But he didn’t care. Emily Townsend was his to control.
What the fuck are you going to do next, big guy?
Chapter Three
Emily couldn’t believe her actions. What the hell had gotten into her?
Never.
That’s when she’d expected to do something like that in this lifetime.
Never.
First this gorgeous male specimen shocked her system by walking toward her. Then he rocked her world by sitting at her table. And everything after was a blur. Almost. Well, no, not at all. But she did seem to be ruled by another power, like a marionette. Her faculties had left her entirely.
This wasn’t why she’d come here. Not to meet a man, or worse yet, a Dom. She was looking for answers. Well, to be honest, she had been looking for answers, the first time she came. Maybe even the second. But now, she was plain intrigued.
Emily resigned herself to not getting any answers. Not about her sister. Claire hadn’t gotten drugs inside this club. She would be kidding herself if she thought she was still coming to Extreme looking for a drug dealer.
Virginia was far more outgoing than Emily. She had a knack for getting people to open up to her. She’d worked the room the first two Fridays and asked a few people if they knew Claire. No one had. And not a single person seemed to be on drugs either.
With that dead end in mind, Emily kept returning to Extreme. She was fascinated. Period. And more so now that she faced the sexy, dark-haired man with the deep brown eyes.
She had no idea where Virginia had gone. Ugh. This behemoth of a man knew her so intimately and had paid so much attention to facts about her over the last three Fridays, he could describe her feelings in words better than she ever could. He was a little off the mark in his assessment, but close enough.
It was Emily who begged Virginia to come to the club with her initially, but once they’d arrived, Virginia had been beyond mesmerized. Emily too, for that matter, though she was loathe to admit it or act on it. She wanted to know more about the world her sister lived in before she died.
It had indeed been Virginia who’d asked Emily to return with her the following two weeks. An easy enough choice. School was out for the summer. Emily felt closer to Claire when she was at the club. It was a win win for her and Virginia. Plus if they hung around enough weekends, maybe she’d learn something about Claire. It would give her peace of mind. Perhaps someone knew her.
And now she had Rider. The smile spreading across his lips as she pulled her fingers from her mouth spoke of victory.
She didn’t lower her gaze as she knew she should. She couldn’t. She needed to see him, take in every aspect of his face from his perfectly smooth-shaved chin to his preppy haircut and deep brown eyes. She doubted he’d ever give her the time of day after this interlude and she didn’t want to miss a beat.
He was younger than her. There was no doubt. But the way he carried himself dissolved those years into nothing in her eyes. What would he think when he found out their age difference?
Don’t tell him, her conscience demanded. She knew she looked younger than she was. She’d always had a baby face, and she wore very little makeup. But she was thirty-three. And she’d bet her last dollar he was twenty-five at best. That might have been wishful thinking on her part.
She wanted to glance around and find Virginia with her gaze, at least pinpoint her friend’s location. It would make her feel…safer. No. That wasn’t true. Nothing about Rider made her feel unsafe. Not even his bad-boy name. Was that his real name? What kind of mother named their kid Rider?
She didn’t need Virginia. And obviously Virginia didn’t need her. The woman had disappeared quicker this evening. She’d established herself in the club faster than Emily was capable o
f. Until now. Emily smiled inside as she wondered if her wilder carefree friend had removed her panties for some random guy and then licked her juices from her fingers in a wanton display of lust.
“What do you do, Emily?”
She bit her lip. She’d meant to remain anonymous at the club. But Rider demanded more from her. She was surprised he hadn’t read her mind, as astute as he was. “I’m a librarian, actually.”
Rider laughed. A deep guttural sound that made her want to hear more. Perhaps she should have been offended, but really, how could she blame him? A librarian…in a BDSM club.
“Sorry.” He wiped his eyes. “I don’t mean to offend. It’s just that my buddy pinned you as a librarian in jest. I hadn’t really expected it to be true.”
“Glad I could humor you.” She was no longer following his rules of protocol, but he didn’t seem to care at this point.
“Emily the librarian. Huh.” He reached across the table and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. His fingers lit a fire in her as they grazed across her cheek. He must have felt the shock also, because his face grew serious as he pulled back. “Do you wear your hair down at the library? Or do librarians still wear a perfect bun on their heads?” He smiled.
Emily shook her head. “No. I couldn’t tame these curls into a bun if I tried. They hired me anyway,” she teased.
Rider leaned closer again. Normally she didn’t like people in her personal space, but something about this man forced her to let him advance. His breath smelled of minty toothpaste. She’d only seen him with a bottle of water, so nothing would have tainted his flavor.
One thing she’d learned in the last few weeks was no alcohol was served inside the establishment. Incongruent with what she’d expected seeing as her sister had died of an overdose. Since she hadn’t seen anyone doing drugs or drinking, she had to deduce her sister’s problems had nothing to do with Extreme. Where had Claire gotten the drugs, and why did she spend so much time in a dry club?
She continued to stare at Rider. His face was chiseled. His skin was flawless, smooth. But his contours were rugged. He worked out. A lot.
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