Doc: a Club Alias novel

by KD Robichaux

  A few hours later, Astrid strolls into my study, no longer dressed in her workout clothes but instead in a pair of skinny jeans that fit her like a second skin and a T-shirt that says Just Wing It—Life, Eyeliner, Everything. Her makeup is intricate but lovely on her beautiful face.

  “You going somewhere, goddess?” I ask, setting down my pen and leaning back in my desk chair to give her my full attention.

  “Oh, ya know. Just work,” she says cheerfully with a little hop. “I talked to Crystal. She said they want me to start tonight, since it’s Saturday and it’s their busiest night. Can’t let them work that pole with their makeup makin’ them look like clowns, Neil.”

  I sigh. “Well, that was faster than I expected. But I guess if you’re comfortable with it, there’s no reason not to go ahead and start.”

  She nods, circling my desk, taking hold of the back of my chair, and spinning it so she can sit in my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck, and my hand comes down to rest on her thigh. “I think I’ll be fine, since I’ll know a few of the girls there. I mean, I’m not close friends with them or anything, but at least they’ll be familiar faces.”

  I give her a nod, pride swelling in my chest at the same time a knot of… something, jealousy? No, not really. I’m just bummed I have to give up time with her on a Saturday night.

  “What time do we leave?” I ask, looking at my watch.

  “I have to be there by six, and Google says it takes about thirty minutes to get there. I’d like to be there a little early in case I have to fill out any paperwork or something,” she replies.

  “That gives us about an hour before we need to go. How about… we leave now, and we can stop somewhere and eat dinner to celebrate your new job?” I offer, secretly crossing my fingers. In the entire year she’s lived here, including this week that our relationship changed, we’ve never been out to dinner together except if we were going to one of the guys’ houses for a get-together. It’s not enough time to really take her on an actual date, but it would be a good first step toward getting her more comfortable in public so I can eventually treat her to a night on the town.

  She considers it for a minute, and then nods shyly. “I think I’d like that,” she replies, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.

  Ten minutes later, we’re at the Chinese place Astrid orders from frequently. She looks around the restaurant, her elbows propped on the table, while I sit across from her in the booth. She looks a little awkward, but her face is happy, and she smiles when the waiter comes to take our order.

  I gesture for her to go first, and she nods. “Um, I’m going to have two orders of the ginger salad and the veggie tempera, please,” she tells him, and I lift a brow at her in question. Normally, she likes the sesame chicken. “I’ve got a nervous stomach, so I’m taking it easy.”

  I reach over and take her hand on the table, my eyes returning to my menu. “I’ll do the sweet and sour soup and the pepper steak with fried rice, please,” I order, and he takes the two giant menus from us.

  “That’ll be out in about fifteen minutes. Ma’am, would you like your salads first or with the meal?” he asks her, and at her look of indecision, I answer for her.

  “She’ll take the salads now, thanks. And if you could, please bring her a glass of ginger ale.”

  He bows a little and says he’ll have it right out.

  When my eyes turn to her, her cheeks are blushing furiously, and I tug her hand toward me until I pull her close enough over the table that the light above us washes over her face. “What’s got you all flustered, goddess?” I ask when she bites her lip.

  She smiles a little. “I’ve always read about Doms and subs going out to dinner, and the hero orders for her, knowing exactly what she likes. It always sounds so romantic. Just never thought it’d happen to me.”

  I pull her hand up to my lips, kissing across her middle knuckles. “You ordered for yourself,” I remind her.

  She shrugs. “Well, yeah, but I told you about my belly, and you went all hero mode and took over, telling him to bring out the things that would settle it faster. That’s a total romance novely thing to do, Viking.” Her eyes look dreamy, and the Dom in me that I’ve been trying to tamp back smirks and flips me off.

  “Noted, baby,” I tell her, loosening my grip so she can slide back to her side of the table. “So do you have any details about the kind of makeup they want to do tonight? Yours looks amazing tonight, by the way. I like how you incorporated the yellow of your shirt to make it pop.”

  She giggles, shaking her head. “You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?”

  My brows furrow. “Do what exactly?”

  She tilts her head to the side. “Pretend to be interested in my makeup stuff to try to get me to talk. I’m much more willing to converse about things you’re actually into.”

  My lips pull down in a frown, my eyes darkening. “I’ve never pretended to be interested in anything when it concerns you, little one.”

  She swallows thickly, her head straightening and her eyes widening a little before she looks down, contrite. “Oh, um…” She fidgets with her napkin, not knowing how to respond.

  My Dom cracks his knuckles then jerks his head from side to side, warming up to be tagged in off the bench for what feels like the first time in forever. And it’s only because everything she does, in and out of our bedroom, has been begging me to let him out lately.

  I lean back in my seat, one hand resting on the top of the table while the other is pressed to the top of my thigh, my elbow out, my big body taking up this entire side of the booth. “Get up,” I command, and her eyes lift to mine. It’s time to see how receptive she is to actually submitting and not just reading about it in her books. Just a taste, nothing too harsh.

  “Wh—” She looks around nervously, seeing if anyone is watching us. I don’t give a fuck if they are. I saw two members of the club sitting at different tables as soon as we walked in. Besides a discreet nod, we didn’t acknowledge we knew each other. It’s called Club Alias for a reason.

  “Get. Up.” When she still doesn’t move, I give her a little incentive, since this is the first time I’ve dominated her before, and we are out in public. “Unless you want me to turn your little ass red before you walk into your first night of work, get up and come to me.”

  Her eyes flare before going half-mast, and I see her chest flush just above the neckline of her tee. Ah, that’s my girl. Aroused by the idea of a little punishment. I was worried she wasn’t ready for that, after everything she went through with that sadistic motherfucker, but I’m so fucking happy to see that she’s turned on thinking about it, if it’s coming from me.

  She scoots to the edge of her bench, swings her legs out from under the table, and then stands, taking a quick glance around before stepping over to my side.

  “Very good, little goddess. Now sit.” I glance down at the tiny bit of space I’ve left on the end of the seat, not making a move to give her more room.

  She swallows, and then she lowers herself to perch on the edge of the bench.

  “Now take my napkin and place it in my lap,” I order, my cock starting to press against the zipper of my jeans as she starts to follow my commands with less hesitation. That’s all I want from this experiment—to see if she’ll give in to her desires to submit even though she thinks being argumentative equals being independent. Little does she know, she’ll get everything she wants and more if she just… gives… in. Because unlike the asshole who controlled her for his own sick pleasure, who only doled out punishment after punishment, I’ll give her rewards she could never even dream of in return for her submission.

  “Such a good girl you are, my love, listening so well to your Viking,” I murmur low for only her to hear, and her eyes snap to mine, understanding registering in her eyes along with the shiver of pleasure that lifts the hairs on her arms as she awaits my next command.

  “Unwrap my straw and place it in my water.” I don
’t even get the demand out before she’s already following through, and my heart pounds in my chest as my excitement grows, imagining this going so much further in another time and place.

  “Thank you, goddess. Now kiss me,” I say, and I make her lean all the way in instead of meeting her halfway, so she’s now pressing her body against mine to reach the height of my lips. When hers finally meet mine, my hand grabs the back of her neck tightly, holding her to me, and I growl against her lips, “Don’t ever think anything I discuss with you is out of the goodness of my heart. I do not pity you. I do not humor you. I do not put on an act. I fucking love you, and as I’ve said for an entire year, Astrid, what is important to you is important to me.”

  She swallows and shudders against me, her eyes looking at me the same way they do on that first thrust of my cock every time I make love to her—like I’m introducing her to a whole new world and giving her the entire universe on a silver platter.

  “Do you understand?” I prompt.

  She nods once. “I think I do now, Viking,” she whispers breathlessly.

  “That’s my good girl.” I place a gentle kiss to her lips, and as I see the waiter come out of the kitchen across the restaurant over her head, I tell her, “You may return to your side of the booth now.”

  And she pulls away with a little smile on her lips and gets back in her own seat just as he approaches our table.

  We arrive at the address thirty minutes early, enough time to psych herself up and also go in to fill out new employee paperwork if there is any. She’s unsure if this is a contract job or under the table, or if the owner is paying her or the women themselves. Either way, she’s here, and I have mixed feelings about it.

  “Holy shit, this place is huge!” Astrid says as we pull up to the gate outside the mansion, and she pulls out her phone to read a message. “The code is 6996.”

  “Of course it is,” I reply, typing it in and rolling my window back up as the tall black iron gates open inward, and I accelerate through. The driveway is long and winding and ends at a covered area directly in front of the building, where there’s a valet stand. Seeing how we’re here before business hours, there’s no one there at the moment.

  “Crystal said to just walk right in whenever I arrive,” she tells me when I pull under the awning and stop.

  The place looks deserted right now, and I’m uneasy about just dropping my woman off somewhere she nor I have never been before.

  It occurred to me as soon as we pulled up to the gate that this is the same place Brian has had surveillance on for a couple of weeks. There is nothing outside that indicates it’s a strip club. Hell, there’s nothing that says it’s a business at all. It just looks like some wealthy person’s estate, so it’s no wonder he thought it seemed suspicious. But I looked up the website after Astrid showed me on her phone, and it all seems legitimate. I sent it to Seth for him to check out, so he can look deeper into the site past the log-in page, but I haven’t heard from him yet. I’ll have to tell him it’s the same house Brian’s been watching, because there’s no picture of the outside of the mansion on the website, which was why I didn’t realize it when Astrid first showed it to me. What it seems to be is a members-only high-class night and strip club. Not your run-of-the-mill titty bar with strippers who clearly have drug problems by the state of their bodies. These women were talented athletes who could probably work for Cirque du Soleil if we were anywhere near Vegas.

  “Um... well, I guess I’ll just go in,” she says, but she doesn’t make a move to do that. She still has her seat belt on, and she keeps glancing between the door out her window to the right and then straight ahead like she’s halfway wanting me to hightail it the hell out of here.

  As much as I want to make the decision for her to take her home and beg her just to go to cosmetology school and I’ll pay for everything, I know that’s something she wants to do on her own. Every time I’ve offered it in the past year, she’s not responded well, and it triggers memories of being dependent on her ex.

  So instead, I help her in the other direction. I reach over and push the button to release her seat belt, and the click makes her jump and look at me.

  “You’ve got this, goddess. Just two hours doing something you love. We’ll only be missing two episodes on Netflix tonight.” I grin, and she feeds off the expression and smiles as well. “I’ll be here at 8:00 to pick you up, and you can tell me all about it. Hell, if you want me to, I’ll just pull around and park until then. I have an audiobook I can listen to.”

  Her face softens and her eyes get glossy. “Thank you, Neil.” She sighs. “I know the first time I said it, it was directly post-orgasm, so there might be some doubt whether I really meant it or if I was... what was it you said? ‘Letting sex muddy my emotions.’” She smirks, teasing me. “But just so you know, I really do love you. And as needy as I am as far as... Words of Affirmation?” She lifts a brow, questioning if she got it right by her tone, and I nod. “As much as I need those words, I might be really bad at returning the favor. I show my love by doing things for you. By cooking your meals, keeping our home all pretty, you know what I mean?” She tilts her head.

  “That love language is called Acts of Service,” I provide, and her eyes brighten.

  “That makes sense. I’m good at that one. Acts of Service.”

  “Damn right you are, goddess. And you can service me anytime.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her, trying to make her laugh and calm her nerves even more so she won’t get in there and freeze. But as much as I want to go inside and stand guard over her like the Asgardian demigod she likes to compare me to, I know my girl can hold her own. I’ve seen that sass and feistiness enough to know she’d be able to stand up for herself around a bunch of women.

  It’s just men she’s leery of.

  She giggles, reaching out to stroke my beard for a moment, her eyes full of that love she was speaking of, and if I had any doubt before, I don’t anymore.

  “I love you too, baby,” I reply, turning my lips into her palm and kissing her there. I meet her eyes once more. “So you want me to stay? It’s really no problem.”

  She shakes her head. “No, that’s silly. I’m sure there’s something more important you can get done while I’m working. We’re what? About twenty-five minutes from your office and the club? That would give you almost an hour and half to do… something shrinky, right?”

  I narrow my eyes on her.

  She leans across the console and puckers her lips. “Kiss me. I’m off to work. I’m no longer a lady of leisure.”

  I lean over and press my lips to hers, and then she spins and opens her door. When she gets down and closes it, she makes it halfway to the door before she turns and gives me a little wave. I roll down the passenger window so she can see I wave back. The tint is too dark otherwise. Once she gets up to the door, she tries the knob tentatively, and when it opens right up, she turns a surprised look my way over her shoulder. I give her a nod, and she blows me a kiss before going inside and shutting the door behind her.

  There’s a knot in my gut. An ache there telling me not to leave her. But I’m sure I’d feel the same way with anything she would’ve gotten for her first job that wasn’t remote from the safety of my fortress-like home.

  I contemplate following through with my idea to just park in the lot that’s probably around back where the valets take the customers’ cars, just in the off chance she might need me. But after she specifically told me I shouldn’t, I don’t want to come off as controlling when she’s here to regain her self-sufficiency.

  So instead, I decide to meet up with Seth at Club Alias to see if he’s found anything out about the strip club my woman just disappeared inside.

  Chapter 17

  Astrid

  The inside of my new workplace, which I found out from Crystal is actually named A Secret—when I asked her what it was called, she said “It’s A Secret,” and I thought she was being bitchy until she clarified—is like nothing I’ve ever seen. The
floors are all white marble, and the ceilings are vaulted with crystal-and-gold chandeliers that scream money. The foyer alone is bigger than the apartment Twyla and I used to have, and I can see there is a window where the coat check probably is. Maybe that’s where they check IDs and memberships? I’m not sure. No one is there and it doesn’t have a sign, everything dim and locked up right now.

  I step farther in, and there’s a huge double staircase that leads to a second floor but not a third. Either there’s more stairs somewhere else, or the mansion just seems much taller from the outside. Looking to the left, I see in the distance in the next room a giant bar, the wall behind it made of mirrors, and there are lights shining down from above, alighting all the bottles of liquor. I see the hint of a stage, but the rest is hidden behind the wall. So that must be where the girls dance. I hear laughter coming from the right, and my head turns in that direction. From here it looks like an empty dining room, but since Crystal didn’t specify where I should go once I came in, I figure I should try to find whatever human I can to see what to do.

  I make my way out of the foyer and into the right room that’s completely empty of all furniture but has a lighting system and DJ booth at the far end. A dance club area? There’s an open door next to the DJ booth, and as I approach it, I peep my head in. More laughter, this time distinctly female, comes from the depths of this part of the mansion. The hallway is dark, but there are lights on in a room at the end, so I quickly make my way to it.

  There’s an eerie feeling here, a shiver crawling up my spine, but I’m sure it’s just because I’m in a place I’ve never been, alone, and in the dark. Yet I can’t shake the feeling that it feels almost… haunted, as if I’m being watched by people who aren’t there.

  “Yes, definitely that one. The red is perfect on your complexion with your hair color,” I hear, and I instantly feel relieved. This must be where I’m supposed to be, and as I reach the doorway, I see it’s a giant dressing room. The two walls to the left and right are lined with mirrors and vanity bulbs, with five salon chairs alternating with four regular chairs on each side. Along the back wall is one long-ass rack of clothes ranging from itty-bitty lingerie sets on the left all the way to elaborate ball gowns on the right with everything in between.