Private Dancer (Club Volare Book 12)

by Chloe Cox

  “You thought I’d be angry?” he said.

  Bette looked down, hiding her eyes. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you wanted nothing to do with me, ever again. I still wouldn’t. If that’s what you decided.”

  “Look at me.”

  An order.

  There was a frisson in the air between them. That connection sparking, lighting up. She met his eyes, and he held them.

  “Didn’t I tell you I loved you?” he said.

  “And I forgot to say it back,” she said, smiling as more tears gathered. “I should fix that. But Cole…I’m a mess. Lizzie is my world, and I don’t know if you—”

  “Stop.”

  The sound of his voice—his Dom voice—brought her up short. He wasn’t about to listen to her list the reasons she thought he should bail. It was all nonsense. She’d learn to believe that soon enough, but for now, she could believe him.

  “Listen to me, Bette,” he said, and he didn’t keep the growl out of his voice. “I know who you are when the chips are down. I know who you are when you think no one’s watching. And I fucking love you. And I want you. I want you on a Tuesday when you have to do laundry, I want you on a Saturday morning when you’re making cookies for Lizzie’s soccer team. I want to help you raise that kid in her blue house with the red roof. I want all of those things, Bette. Get used to it. Is that understood?”

  Bette stared at him, her eyes shocked wide open, hiding nothing. She blinked hard a few times, trying to fight back tears. It didn’t work.

  “Dammit,” she muttered.

  Cole grinned, and reached out to cup her face in his hand. She needed the contact. As soon as he touched her, she softened, leaned into it. He pulled her in close, letting his lips brush against the top of her head again.

  “I’m going to be here for you and Lizzie for the rest of your lives, sweetheart,” he said. “And eventually you’ll believe me.”

  Bette laugh-sobbed into his chest, and squeezed him tight.

  “Maybe eventually I’ll deserve you,” she said.

  “Maybe eventually you’ll learn that talking that way about yourself is a sure-fire way to earn a red ass,” he said.

  She laughed, but her hands spread out on his chest, her fingers digging in. His cock woke up, started to swell. It was going to be a long time until he got her alone again. He’d make it worth the wait.

  “We’re going to have dinner with Lizzie and the Palmers at Simone and Holt’s place,” he said.

  Bette pulled back and looked up, smiling incredulously.

  “Wait, what?”

  “Yup,” he said. “And then we’re going back to my place, where you are going to rest. And once you’re rested…”

  Cole let himself trail off. Bette should be able to fill in the blanks.

  And she didn’t let him down.

  “I disobeyed an order, didn’t I?” she whispered.

  “Yes you did, sub,” he said. “And you know what happens when you disobey an order.”

  Epilogue

  Bette was going to be in a world of trouble again. But it was going to be the best kind of trouble this time.

  She still couldn’t believe it. She’d been quietly freaking out all afternoon, barely able to hide the smile on her face. Even Lizzie had noticed. She’d kept asking if Bette had a secret.

  Bette didn’t like lying to her, so she’d just said, “All adults have secrets,” and did a hair flip designed to get Lizzie to chase her. That had devolved into a tickle fight, and that had almost given the game away.

  Because the thing was, Bette knew she should have put it back. But she just couldn’t help herself. So she was wearing it, turned around, on her finger. Just for a little while. Just until it stopped feeling totally surreal. Or maybe just until Cole came home.

  And then, of course, he’d come home early, and, well. That was how she found herself in this position.

  There was a knock on Lizzie’s open door, and Cole grinned down at the two of them.

  “The Palmers are here,” Cole said.

  Lizzie shot up from the floor where she’d been dutifully doing her homework while Bette supervised and ran straight for Cole. As though it were a practiced routine, Cole ducked down and launched the little girl onto his shoulders, where she raised both arms and yelled in triumph.

  “To the living room!” Lizzie said.

  Cole pawed at the floor with his big feet, snorted, and then ran off with the little girl laughing on his shoulders.

  This was the perfect opportunity. Bette should put it back. She should take it off, put it back exactly where she found it, and pretend she’d never seen it. She was being an actual crazy lady.

  She just…couldn’t.

  She sat on Lizzie’s floor for another second, smiling to herself like…well, like a crazy lady again, until she heard Cole’s footsteps in the hall.

  When he came back, this time without Lizzie, the expression on his face was markedly different. He leaned against the doorway, casual and comfortable and sexy as hell, and looked her up and down.

  Bette blushed, as she always did.

  “You ready to go?” he said.

  She laughed. “I’m in jeans and a t-shirt,” she said. “I am nowhere near ready to go to Connor’s fancy Club Volare goodbye party.”

  The scarily handsome, tattooed Boston Irish investigator who’d driven them to the police station, all those months ago, was finally going home. The unattached subs of New Orleans were basically all in mourning. And they’d probably all be at the party.

  “If I know Connor Kelly, it’s not gonna be fancy,” Cole said. His eyes heated as he looked at her. “And if you’re not ready in five minutes, we’re not going to get out of here at all.”

  “Cole,” she said, feigning shock. “The Palmers are babysitting in the living room right this moment.”

  “Four minutes,” he growled. “I need you out of this house.”

  “Yes, sir,” she’d said, grinning, and then skipped back to their bedroom.

  Their bedroom.

  Bette had never dressed so quickly in her life. Sun dress, flats, bag, sunglasses. Hat. The hat was what made it fancy.

  The rest of it was what made her dizzy.

  Lizzie still got a little stressed out at the idea of being dropped off anywhere else, and they’d only been living here in Cole’s house a few months, so Cole and Bette had worked out a deal with the Palmers that they would come visit pretty regularly. It worked out pretty great for everyone — the Palmers had grown pretty attached to Lizzie, and she loved them back, and Bette and Cole got free babysitting out of the deal.

  Bette and Cole. She didn’t know if she’d ever get over that. He had been very clear that he would wait as long as it took for both Bette and Lizzie to feel comfortable letting him into their lives, and while Bette sometimes still couldn’t believe how lucky she was, Lizzie had no such doubts. Watching her little sister open her heart to a father figure who actually cared about her had been the single most beautiful thing Bette had ever seen. And, as it turned out, Cole didn’t have to wait very long for both Bette and Lizzie to feel ready.

  And already it all felt like home. Bette had been able to stop stripping, which was a huge relief after all the stress she now associated with the work, and she’d been able to go back to school full time with her savings. Soon she’d be an actual therapist. Lizzie was the happiest Bette had ever seen her. And Cole was their rock. There hadn’t been any drama, no real difficulties. Just what felt like a family that already existed finally coming together.

  She was still learning things about him, and he about her, and Bette expected that to go on for a while. But there was a sweetness to every discovery. Like this goodbye party they were going to at the Club — Connor Kelly, the investigator who had helped Rose’s firm with Bette’s case, turned out to be an old military buddy of Cole’s. Cole had recommended him to Rose not just because he was great at what he did, but because Cole wanted to keep an eye on him, knowing how broken
up Connor was about his brother’s recent death and needed a distraction.

  Cole watched out for people like that. He didn’t make a big thing about it, he didn’t draw attention to it. He just did it.

  He was already the best man Bette had ever known, and he just kept getting better.

  She took one last look at herself in the mirror, smoothed her dress, properly positioned her hat, and took a deep breath.

  She could feel it, in her hand, when she closed her fist. It felt huge. It felt heavy, though she knew that must be her mind playing tricks on her. It felt like a promise.

  Wearing it was completely crazy, and she just could not take it off.

  “Surprise inspection,” Cole said from the doorway. He came up behind her and buried his face in her hair, his hands moving from her hips up to her breasts, squeezing gently.

  And then…not so gently.

  Bette moaned, almost forgetting herself. Cole chuckled, and let her go.

  “Not yet, sub,” he said. “Get in the car.”

  He slapped her on the ass with a devilish grin.

  Bette shuddered, felt the thing on her finger, and wondered if this was really happening.

  Cole’s sub had been acting a little weird all night. He knew because he didn’t take his eyes off of her.

  It was one of the privileges he enjoyed because Bette Liffey was his sub. And soon, she would be his wife.

  She just didn’t know it yet.

  Cole watched her from across the great room at Club Volare, laughing with Charlene and Simone, looking for all the world like one of the girls. He was pleased and proud with how much Bette had opened herself up to the Club Volare community, with how she’d let herself be welcomed into it. It was good for her. She was beginning to see that she was good enough even when he wasn’t there to remind her.

  And damn if he wasn’t falling more in love with her and Lizzie by the day.

  Of course, if Bette kept stealing looks at him like that, he would take her out back and get to the bottom of whatever was going on. Thoroughly. Possibly loudly.

  If she only knew what he had planned.

  “I can always tell when you’re planning something,” Connor said, coming up on his right. “But this time I bet it’s not a raid. Or a prank.”

  Cole grinned. “You would be correct.”

  Connor nodded at Bette, and took a swig of his beer. “You did good there, brother,” he said.

  “Hit the lottery,” Cole agreed. “I’m gonna make her mine.”

  Connor raised his eyebrows. “The whole shebang, huh?”

  He took another swig.

  “Good,” he said finally.

  Cole looked at his old friend sideways. Connor Kelly had never been what you would call a staunch supporter of the institution of marriage, but he’d kept his mouth shut about Cole’s first wife. Still, Cole knew that Connor didn’t think much about getting hitched. Approval, rather than silent acceptance, was not expected.

  Besides, Connor had spent the last few months having his way with any free sub he wanted, and once word got out about the tall, tatted, black-haired, blue-eyed former Green Beret, the women had come from all over. Cole didn’t think he was generally in a commitment-minded mood.

  “Wouldn’t have expected that from you,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t have expected Spencer Cole to turn up happy,” Connor said. “You’re different, Cole. You’ve changed. It’s a good thing.”

  “I know,” Cole said, and eyed Bette again, leaning against a wall with a relaxed smile on her face. She caught his eye, and blushed. “You should try it.”

  “I’ve got a Club Volare back home in Boston now,” Connor said. “I will have many things to try.”

  “I don’t mean the club,” Cole said. “I mean falling in love. A family.”

  Connor tensed, his unnervingly light blue eyes glittering hard. He cashed his beer and set it on a table, motioning to a serving sub to come take care of it.

  “Not until I make things right,” he said eventually. “Maybe not even then.”

  “Some things you can’t make right, Connor,” Cole said. “You can’t bring Paul back.”

  “No. But I can bring the guy who did it to justice. And I will.”

  Cole studied his friend for a second. There was no dissuading him. He was determined to chase that case until he found what he was looking for, or until it killed him. And Cole honestly didn’t know which it would be.

  “I heard you were going back for a job,” he said. “Any way I can tempt you to stay here with a better one?”

  Cole had quickly become a partner in Holt’s security firm. He liked being in a position to make that kind of offer. But Connor didn’t.

  “No,” he said.

  “What’s the job in Boston?” Cole asked.

  “Job is dumb,” Connor said. “Celebrity socialite rich girl has a stalker, needs a bodyguard.”

  “Sounds boring,” Cole said.

  “It is. And I’m taking it anyway.”

  Cole knew what the answer was going to be, but he had to ask.

  “There a reason for that?”

  “There is,” Connor said, his eyes following the path of a brunette sub, new to the club. She wasn’t subtle. It was the second time she’d passed by like that. “I’m taking it because of who the girl is. And what she might know about Paul’s death.”

  Cole nodded. There was no stopping Connor when he set his mind to something. Cole could only hope, for the girl’s sake, that she was good at obeying orders. If so, she’d be the safest woman in the world. If not…

  Well, Connor was a Dom who could handle pretty much anyone, even outside a D/s relationship. That celebrity socialite was in for a world of trouble.

  Maybe it would be good for them both.

  “Be careful, Connor,” Cole said. “There’s more to life than revenge. I’ll be pissed as hell if you miss out on all of it.”

  Connor nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.

  Well, Cole wouldn’t have been convinced himself not that long ago. He’d narrowed his life to justice, domination, and the Club, without even realizing it. And then Bette had dropped in his lap.

  He looked over at her again, only to see just the back of her head as she made her way to the rooms, leading to the garden. He frowned. He’d known there was something up. Time to go find out what.

  Cole made his way through the party, eyes focused on Bette as she slipped out through the garden door. Outside, in the early evening sun, she was even more beautiful. He found her standing in a pool of warm, fading light, her head bowed as she looked at something in her hand.

  “What’s wrong, sub?” he said.

  She turned at the sound of his voice, and her eyes were wet with tears. But she smiled when she saw him. Then frowned. Then got that half-panicked look she got when she knew she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

  That look usually preceded some memorable scenes. It was enough to get his cock half-hard, all on its own.

  “Oh, crap,” she said.

  “You’ve been caught,” he said. “I don’t know what you did yet, but consider yourself caught.”

  Cole pulled her close to him, her body fitting perfectly against his, as it always did. The connection between them flared as hot as ever, more so now, getting stronger with every new memory they had together. He inhaled her scent as he slid his hand down her right arm, picking up her wrist and turning her hand over.

  He felt her smile. There was nothing in it.

  Cole shook his head. “Overly clever subs get spankings,” he said.

  “Promise?”

  He grinned as he reached for her left hand. There was a moment of hesitation, and then she turned and looked him full in the face as she turned her hand up.

  “I had to put it on, once I found it,” she said. “And once I put it on, I just couldn’t take it off.”

  On her finger was the ring. The engagement ring he’d bought for her. The one that was suppose
d to be in his pocket right that second.

  Cole raised an eyebrow.

  “I had it on when you came home. I just had it turned around, so this giant freaking rock wasn’t visible,” she said, brow furrowing as she looked down at the engagement ring on her finger. “I didn’t mean to snoop, it’s just that Lizzie spilled grape juice on your jacket this afternoon, so I had to get creative, which actually worked? Like the baking soda-stain remover combo plus a quick wash and dry was…not the point.”

  Bette inhaled deeply, little worry lines appearing on her face. They were adorable.

  “Right. I had to wash your jacket, is the point,” she went on, “so I had to go through the pockets, and then…in my defense, there isn’t a woman alive who finds a box like that and doesn’t open it. I was going to put it back and not say anything, but—”

  She was rambling out of nervousness.

  Cole put a stop to that by kissing her quiet.

  He savored the taste of her on his tongue, the softness of her lips, the way she melted into him. He could kiss this woman forever. In fact, he planned to.

  “That ring isn’t going anywhere,” he murmured as he released her. “It’s staying on your finger for the rest of your life.”

  Bette smiled against him, and he could feel wetness on her cheek. She leaned her forehead into his, and then caught her breath when he moved his hands to her wrists.

  “Keep these behind your back,” he said. “Because I did want to give it to you. But since I can’t give you a ring you’re already wearing, I’m going to give you something else.”

  He let his eyes rove up and down her body as he took off his tie, noting the way her breathing had changed, the way her nipples hardened.

  But he watched her eyes as he tied the tie around her neck, leaving a long, long lead.

  “I’m going to give you a collar,” he said.

  He turned her around, her skin hot under his hands as he tied his belt around her wrists, binding them at her lower back.

  “I’m going to give you cuffs,” he said.

  He walked out in front of her, tie-as-leash in his hand, and led her to the greenhouse at the end of the garden. He held open the door, then brought her to the benches in the back. It was hot, humid, sweaty. The wet air clung to his skin, and to hers as she waited patiently for another order.