The Fight Club - Boxed Set

by Becca Jameson

  “Besides, she may be older, but she’s so green she’ll never be able to keep up with me. A few weekends of training her, and I’ll set her free to go it alone. She just needs some guidance. I’m sure in the meantime I’ll purge myself of her.”

  “This isn’t a movie, Rider. Some chick flick. How to Lose a Girl in Three Weeks.”

  “It is if I make it one.”

  Gage shook his head in dismay. “Okay, try it. But I’m warning you. Don’t be surprised if your feelings lean in her direction instead of away. It happens. Even to the best of us.”

  “Like you? How was your hot date with Kayla the other night?”

  Now, Gage stiffened and turned away. “Let’s not go there.”

  “Why? It’s okay to harass the self-proclaimed bachelor but not the wild military guy?”

  Gage didn’t smile. Rider had hit a nerve. “She’s not interested in me like that.”

  “Oh. Sorry, dude.” Apparently Gage was interested in her. Bummer.

  They stopped the verbal sparring to get on with their workout.

  Two hours later, Rider felt much better. He’d simply needed a good work out to take his mind off Emily.

  »»•««

  It was Wednesday before Emily built up the nerve to call the fetish shop Rider recommended and let Danielle know she was coming in. She needed to make sure the woman was working that day or she’d be wasting a trip. Rider specifically requested she see Danielle.

  Emily was a bundle of nerves when she entered the shop. A woman looked up from behind the front desk and smiled. She set her magazine down and hopped off her stool. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Emily. I called earlier.”

  “Ah, yes. Of course. Rider’s friend.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t feel comfortable expanding. How much did Danielle know? She must have spoken to Rider.

  “Come on back. I’ll get some measurements and we’ll find you the perfect outfit.”

  Emily followed her to a fitting room in the back and fidgeted while the woman wrapped a tape measure around her waist, hips, and chest. “You’re tiny,” she commented. “What do you usually wear? A four?”

  Emily nodded.

  “Be right back.” Danielle flounced away and returned several minutes later with half a dozen hangers dangling from her hand. “I brought several things, but this one is probably our best bet.” She held up the first outfit and proceeded to take it off the hanger and hand it to Emily.

  Emily blinked. How could she possibly wear something like that? Even to a club?

  Thank God Danielle left the room, giving Emily a bit of privacy, because it hadn’t occurred to Emily that she wore nothing underneath her dress and would be thoroughly embarrassed for Danielle to know it.

  Emily slid the black silky material over her head. It fell into place around every curve of her body, fitting perfectly. It felt like heaven.

  She turned to see in the mirror. Shock made her freeze as she stared at herself. The dress landed just below her ass, too short for anyplace other than a BDSM club. The majority of the material was nearly see-through. The only sections that weren’t were darker circles of material around the center of her breasts and a strip at the V of her crotch. She felt exposed. The dark black material didn’t cover her entire breasts, just a few inches of the nipple area. The same fabric fluttered in front of her pussy, but left her hips and thighs exposed.

  She was stunned as she lifted her gaze up and down to take in the entire package. The dress was revealing, but it was also sexy as hell and she felt gorgeous in it. Could she wear it in public though?

  She twisted around to see the back in the mirror. The only section of darker fabric in the back was a line straight up from the bottom of the dress that covered her crack—not her entire ass, just the crack.

  She shivered as Danielle returned. “You okay in there? How does it look?”

  Emily opened the door and gripped the edge of it while she let Danielle peruse the entire package.

  Danielle’s face lit up. “Girl, you rock that dress. It’s fantastic on you. I can only dream of what it must be like to be as petite as you are. Spin around.”

  Emily let go of the door as Danielle stepped more fully into the fitting room. She turned to face the mirror on the back wall.

  “Stunning. I wouldn’t bother trying on the others. Leave them for another time. Rider’s going to drool over this dress.”

  Rider, drool? That seemed out of character for him.

  “You good? Need anything else?”

  Emily swallowed past the lump in her throat. “He requested nipple clamps.” Obviously in Danielle’s mind Emily was Rider’s submissive, so no sense pretending otherwise.

  Danielle smiled. “Of course he did.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s such a boob man. Be right back.” Before Emily could take in her words, Danielle was gone.

  He’s a boob man? How well did Danielle know Rider? Had they been an item at some point?

  Emily jerked to attention when Danielle slid back into the fitting room and shut the door behind her. She held a pile of packages which she set on the bench. “If you’ll remove the dress, I’ll help you figure out which ones are best for you.”

  Emily held her breath, wishing for a second she could suddenly disappear through the floor. The last thing she wanted to do was take this dress off and stand naked in this small fitting room with Danielle.

  Danielle smiled. “Sweetie, I’ve seen everything. And you can trust me to be totally professional.”

  Emily nodded and pulled the sexy dress over her head.

  Danielle took it from her and hung it back on the hanger, placing it on a hook behind her. She turned back to Emily and stared at her chest for a moment. “Have you worn clamps before?”

  Emily’s skin immediately pebbled with goose bumps. It wasn’t cold in the store, but nerves kept her from controlling her reaction. “No.”

  “I think you’d be best off trying tweezer-style clamps at first. They pinch, making you aware of your nipples, but not so hard as to cause so much pain that you’re distracted from the important stuff.”

  Emily squeezed her legs together while Danielle narrowed her gaze on her very erect nipples. And then the woman turned and grabbed a few different packages to hold out. “If you were anyone else, I would suggest trying several on to see how they feel.”

  Emily lifted her gaze, confused. “What do you mean?”

  Danielle smiled. “Rider requested you not try them out. He wants to be the first to use them on you.”

  A flush crawled up Emily’s skin as she realized the extent of what Danielle knew about her. The woman had already known Emily would ask for clamps. She’d been instructed to let Emily lead the conversation. How embarrassing.

  Danielle lifted one pair out from the others. “I’d go with this personally. They’re lightweight and won’t tug hard on your nipples the first time.”

  “Okay.” What the hell alternate universe had she fallen into?

  “Put your dress back on. I’ll show you what the others are like for future reference. Next time you come in, you’ll know what you’re looking for.” Danielle turned to pick up several more packages from the bench.

  Emily grabbed her dress from the hook by the mirror and quickly slipped it over her head, feeling much better than she had naked. It was difficult to have a serious conversation with Danielle while standing in front of her totally bare. Her head swam as she listened to Danielle’s rundown about the various types of clamps from beginner to hardcore. No way would she ever be able to put something called an alligator clamp on her poor nipples. In fact, she cupped the offended breasts with both hands, just thinking about it.

  Danielle chuckled. “Don’t worry. Very few people can tolerate the intensity of the alligator clamps. I wanted to show them to you so you wouldn’t inadvertently purchase them someday, not realizing how much pain they might cause. They’re really best used by pain slaves, not your average, everyday submissive.” She gath
ered up all the packages and turned to leave the room. “Grab the dress and follow me.”

  Emily held the tweezer clamps in one hand and the dress in the other as she made her way to the checkout.

  Danielle set the pile of clamps on the counter and took the items from Emily’s hands. She jotted down the price of both and put them in a black bag. When she finished, she grabbed another discreet, black plastic bag from farther down the counter and handed it to Emily also. “These are a few things Rider asked me to gather for you. He said to tell you not to get nosy and open it. That’s why I taped the plastic.” She smiled and shrugged. “You must have really caught his fancy. I’ve never known him to date before.”

  “Oh. I don’t think I would call it dating. We’re… I mean he’s sort of training me.” She shivered at the admission. “I mean I’m dabbling in the lifestyle. He’s agreed to help me out.”

  “Rider?” She looked puzzled. “He doesn’t take newbies.”

  “He mentioned that.” Emily smiled back. She didn’t feel the need to continue explaining. After all, she didn’t have any answers herself.

  “Well, enjoy. Lucky girl.” Danielle sat back on her stool with a wink.

  “I didn’t pay you yet.”

  Danielle waved her away. “It’s been covered by the hunk training you.” She lifted her brows and grinned. “Have fun.”

  Stunned, Emily left the store with her packages, set them in the back seat of her car, and drove away. Thank God she hadn’t encountered anyone inside the shop. She might have been mortified to make eye contact even with a stranger.

  Chapter Nine

  On Friday night Emily was dressed and ready to go to Extreme with ten minutes to spare. She wasn’t sure her plan to let Rider pick her up was a good one, but she’d agreed when he’d texted her earlier in the day.

  She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress for the hundredth time, feeling much less confident about the amount of skin showing than she had when she’d left the fetish shop.

  The strappy heels she slipped on her feet gave her a few inches, but they also added a level of sexy she wasn’t sure she wanted.

  The last time she’d seen Rider, he’d looked at her with eyes that melted her resolve to keep things casual. She needed to protect her heart from this man. He wasn’t interested in more than training her in the ways of dominance and submission. If she let herself fall for him, she’d get hurt. Luring him to stare at her with eyes that bore into her skin and stripped her of far more than her clothing would do nothing but hurt her in the long run.

  She glanced in the mirror by the front door and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She’d put the long curls up into a messy bun to get them out of the way. Trying to tame them all at once was always a lost cause. Several curls hung around her face and neck.

  A knock at the door made her flinch. She took a deep breath and reached for the knob.

  Rider stood on the other side of the door looking like two million bucks in his trademark black jeans and black designer shirt. His hair was stylishly spiked—preppy. Her gaze traveled down his clean-shaven face until it landed on his pecs. His damn chest was so huge it pulled his shirt tight around his muscles, leaving each one easily defined and outlined by the cotton.

  She sucked in a breath, letting her gaze follow the rest of the way down his body, trying hard not to linger over his cock.

  Rider had said nothing, and when she lifted her face back up to meet his, she found him staring at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

  When their eyes met, he grabbed the doorframe, closed his mouth, and licked his lips. “Damn, Emily, that dress is smokin’ hot.” He stepped inside and shut the door without taking his gaze off her. “Spin around. Let me see the back.”

  She did as he told her, careful not to lose her balance in the heels. As she returned to face him, he set his fingers on her shoulder and grazed them down the front of the dress, dragging the tips between her breasts until he reached her belly. “Soft. Gorgeous.”

  Emily’s nipples jumped to attention. She wasn’t wearing a bra. The dress clearly wasn’t meant to be worn with any undergarments. And she knew instinctively Rider would balk if she attempted a bra.

  “Should we get going?” she asked.

  Rider nodded as though jerked from a trance.

  She reached for her purse on the small table by the door.

  “If you’d rather not keep up with that I could hold your keys for you. You won’t need anything else this evening.”

  She hedged for a second. Leave my purse at home? It would be easier than lugging it around. “What about my ID? Can you put it in your pocket too? Just in case.” That small detail seemed essential, though she wasn’t sure it was necessary. They weren’t going to drink, and she wasn’t driving. The fact that Rider was a cop had changed her comfort level with him by leaps. She knew who he was and where he worked. It wasn’t as though he could easily ditch her somewhere and leave her stranded. He would be in deep shit. She felt safe trusting him, at least where her belongings were concerned.

  Trusting him with her heart was another matter entirely.

  “Of course.” He stood straighter. “It’s cooled off some this evening. Do you have something to wear over that?” He pointed at her dress.

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “You didn’t think I was going to walk from here to the car nearly naked, did you?” She giggled, the sound coming out uneasy to her ears. She hadn’t taken a submissive stance since he’d arrived, but he also hadn’t mentioned it, so she assumed she could be at ease so far.

  Emily dug her ID and keys out of her purse and handed them to him before she grabbed the long black sweater she’d set by the door. It was loose fitting and would hide everything she wasn’t wearing underneath.

  Rider chuckled as he held the door open and ushered her out. He stuffed her items in his pocket.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You might be disappointed when you find out I didn’t bring a car.”

  “What?” She glanced up at him. “How’d you get here? Do we need to take mine?”

  “Nope.”

  Finally, she saw his mode of transportation. Oh, hell no. “Rider, I can’t ride on that.” She stared at the sleek black motorcycle and took a step back.

  “Of course you can. I even brought you your own helmet.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle and I’m wearing a dress. And—”

  Rider took her hand and led her to the curb. “Then it will be a new experience for you. You’re going to love it.” He stepped in front of her, reached behind her head, and pulled the pin that held her hair in place. The curls fell in a cascade around her. “I like your hair down. It’s gorgeous. Besides, the helmet will fit better this way.” Without pausing, he tugged the helmet over her head and buckled it under her chin.

  Emily stood rooted to her spot while he put his own helmet on. Her gaze shifted to the motorcycle. It wasn’t the one he’d driven the other day when he’d pulled her brother over. That one had been a police motorcycle. “How many of these do you own?”

  “Bikes?” He turned to look at the black and chrome hunk of metal shimmering under the street light. “Just this Indian. When I’m at work I ride one of the station bikes.” Rider lifted one leg and tossed it over the seat. When he was situated, he lifted his gaze. “Come on. Climb on behind me and wrap your arms around my waist.”

  She didn’t move. There’s no way in hell I’m riding on that. She didn’t care for motorcycles. They weren’t safe. She’d never been on one.

  Rider reached toward her with one hand, curling his fingers in a “come hither” motion. She couldn’t see his eyes, but his lips were turned up in amusement. “Live a little, baby.”

  As though drawn forward by an unseen force, Emily set her hand in his and let him pull her closer.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her against his side. “I promise to drive within the speed limit and take it easy o
n you this first time. Trust me. I’m an excellent driver. You’re in good hands.” He bumped his helmet against hers and then continued. “Put your left foot on the foot peg here.” He tapped the chrome step he spoke of. “And then swing your right leg over behind me.”

  Emily glanced down at her attire. “Rider, I’m not dressed for this. I mean I’m not even wearing…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “I know.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love knowing your bare pussy will vibrate against the seat as we go. It makes me hot thinking about it.”

  Her gaze widened. He’d planned this. “Don’t you own a car?”

  “Of course I do. But I don’t use it unless I need to.”

  “I think tonight would have constituted one of those times.”

  “Nah.” He lifted his gaze to the sky. “The weather is perfect and no chance of rain. That’s what I call the best opportunity.”

  “I need panties.”

  “You never need panties with me. I’m accumulating quite a collection. In fact, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would have checked to make sure you’d followed my instructions before we left the house.” He closed the nonexistent distance between them by hugging her tighter.

  She could smell his aftershave and the soap he’d showered with. She wanted to run her tongue over his neck and rub her cheek against his. How did a man who looked as clean cut as Rider get a nickname like that and use a bike for transportation?

  “Come on, baby. Do it for me.”

  Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she wiggled free of him and mounted the motorcycle.

  She moaned when she landed, her exposed pussy completely molding to the soft leather between her legs. With almost two hundred pounds of virile young male in front of her, his scent filling the air enough to make her fight to concentrate, it was a wonder she didn’t come the instant her shaved pussy hit the seat.

  “That’s it, baby.” He twisted his neck to see her from the side. “Flatten yourself against me and then lean with me through the turns.” He reached back with his hand on one side and took her fingers in his to pull her arm around his middle.