Through my anger, I clench my teeth and point at his chest…hard. “How dare you!” I whisper angrily. “My singing is not something I’m ready to share with the masses. When I sing, it’s private. For you, and you alone.” Adding pressure, I dig my pointer finger into his sternum. Take that!
“Ouch, babe. Lay off. Relax.” Nick grabs my hand and twists it behind my back, forcing my upper body to connect with his. A little of the tension within me eases away at our shared proximity. God, I love and hate that about him. He can manipulate my body and mind with a single touch.
Nick’s eyes turn hard, and he uses the darker, more dominant tone that makes my panties wet and turns my mind into a puddle of mush. “You will do this, Honor.” That tone sears through me, and I want to beg for a single ounce of pain I know his hand can gift me.
Even irate, I’m at a loss for how to proceed. I don’t want to disappoint him, but I’m scared. “Nick.” I say his name with a warning—against what, I’m uncertain.
Twisting me into a position behind the curtain, away from any onlookers, he corners me in a dark cubby. Once there, he makes quick work of the top three buttons of my blouse, easing his hand in between the fabric and under my bra, where he takes my nipple between two fingers. With force and intent, his fingers act like tiny little clamps, pinching the tender flesh in an iron grip.
I moan and tremble against the onslaught of pleasure, going perfectly slack against his form. His command over my body and my mind is unbelievable. In this moment, I’d do anything to please him and, therefore, please myself. Ever since he started introducing me to small amounts of D/s play in the physical sense, I’ve been able to let go. Release the anxiety and fears inside me, giving it all up to him. I allow Nick to take care of me, learn what I need, and give it to me in all things. Before him, I didn’t know this type of connection with another person existed. He understands my need for pain, for release, giving him the power to mold me into his willing and worshipped submissive.
“That’s right.” His dark stare locks me into compliance. “You are going to do this for me but, more importantly, for you. Show the world how talented my girl is. And when you have, I’m going to take you home, make you cry, and fuck your remaining fears away. Got it?” He pinches the erect flesh until I cry out with the burning pain. No one hears because the music is too loud, and Nick muffles my scream with his sinful mouth.
He flicks his tongue against mine, invading my mouth with deep, draining kisses. All along he tweaks and pinches my nipple until my body is no longer my own. My hips are grinding, my pelvis aching to drag along his firm length, all but begging to be taken. In a flash, he pulls away, removing his hand and putting me back together one button at a time. I pout, not wanting to be dressed but rather taken out of this bar and undressed.
“You ready to sing for me, baby?”
I nod because right now, I’d do anything for this man.
“Words, Dove.”
My vision is blurry as he cups my face and lays a series of kisses from my temple, down along my cheek, landing on my lips. “You are gorgeous. You sing like an angel. Share it with the world. Be different, baby. Take chances.”
I wrap both my hands around his neck, lift up on my toes, and kiss him once more.
He pets my cheek. “Live the life you are meant to live.”
Live the life you’re meant to live.
He’s said this before, but it’s never been so prevalent and important. There’s no reason why I can’t get up there and sing. No reason to be afraid of what people are going to think, because only two people matter. Nick and me. Monet and Dr. Batchelor have been urging me to take more chances, put myself out there. This could be one of those times. Nothing can hurt me here. Nick would never allow it.
“Where are you going to be?” I ask frantically, needing to know he’ll be close.
“Wherever you want me.” His fingers dig into the back of my neck, massaging, centering, grounding.
“Right below the stage where I can see you. Then if I get scared…” I trail off.
“I’ll be there to catch you. Always. Now sing me a song, Dove.”
I smile softly and nod.
He leads me over to the table, and I scour through the list and find the perfect song. If my man wants to test my limits, I’m going to test his.
The song…“Fever.”
For a couple of minutes, I breathe in and out, using the yoga-style breathing I’ve learned in my study with Nick and Grace. The performer before me finishes, and the DJ hands me the microphone. I walk slowly to the single stool and mic stand at the center of the stage. A blue-tinted light shines down from above, casting everything in an ethereal glow.
The lights change, turning into a more golden hue, making me feel more spotlighted. Nick’s large form becomes visible below, standing right where he said he’d be. He’s a wall of muscle and man. Sharp, edgy, Italian features that ooze sexuality from every pore. His tight black dress shirt shimmers when the light catches it. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares. Those pale-green eyes, haloed by sculpted eyebrows, would look menacing if I didn’t know him better. Only I do, and I can see in his stance that he’s in full command, using his sex appeal and stunning features to pull me out of a place of anxiety and fear to one of sex and sin. He knows exactly how to push every single one of my buttons, but right now, I’m going to turn the tables on him. Show him the kind of woman I want to be for a man like him. A woman he can be proud to have on his arm, in his bed, sharing his life.
The first base notes of the music plunk out through the loudspeakers, and I start by swaying my shoulders and then pair each beat to a kick of my hips. While singing the first breathy lines, I trail one hand behind my head and run it down the back of my neck toward my front, over the side of my breast, easing it down my ribcage and lengthwise along my hip and thigh. I squeeze my legs, swiveling them left and right, the power of the song making me hot and bothered—or it could be the man I’m singing to who is doing that to me. As I belt out the words about loving my man and the feeling I get when he’s holding me, my voice comes out a cross between a Peggy Lee version and a younger, more unique sound.
Nick’s eyes have not left me for a single second. Everywhere I put my hands, his gaze follows. He licks his lips, bites them, and curls one inside his mouth as if he’s barely able to contain his own hunger.
I get into the lyrics, losing myself in the sensual nature of the song, the man in front of me, and the heady beat until I’ve sung the last word. I’m breathless, my head to the sky, the lights coating me in warmth, and for a moment, I don’t hear anything. All sound is lost. A stillness, a peace and quiet settles over me in a rowdy bar in downtown San Francisco. It’s that same essence of tranquility I get after I’ve cut myself or Nick has spanked me into oblivion. Here in this place, there’s nothing but freedom.
All too soon, it’s gone, and I’m bum rushed by an explosion of applause. It feels like my eardrums are going to implode with the strength of the response from the audience below. I can barely take it in because I feel as though I’m flying, soaring above everyone, including myself. For the first time in forever…I’m proud of myself.
I look everywhere, not believing what I’m seeing and hearing.
“Uh…thank you. Thank you,” I sputter into the mic before walking it over to the DJ.
“Lady, you’re the shit!” he says. “Anytime you want to sing, I’ll move your ass up to first spot. Anytime. Multiple times. Whatever. Damn, that was good.”
I shyly thank him and head toward the stairs. My guy is there at the bottom, waiting for me.
He holds his arms out, and I rush down the stairs and fly into them. He spins me around and holds me so tightly, I can’t breathe. I don’t even care because he’s laughing in my ear and swinging me. Nick sets me on my feet, cups my cheeks, and kisses me one, two, three times. He loves doing things in threes.
“So damn proud of you, babe. My God. You’re a star!” He kisses me again
, and I loop my arms around his back, enjoying the powerful excitement rushing between the two of us.
I did it! I finally did it, and for the first time in my life, I’m proud of myself.
“Come on. After that, you need a fresh drink! Damn, my woman is a songbird.” He chuckles and leads me over to the table with his friends.
All four of them stand up and clap heartily. I feel a heat suffuse my cheeks, and I cower against Nick’s chest.
“No way, nuh-uh. You’re gonna take your applause like a champ, babe. That was fan-fucking-tastic. I knew you were good, but that’s a whole new level. Tell her, Atlas!” He gestures to his friend.
“Seriously, Honor, do you want to sing professionally?” His wild hair flops into his eyes, and he pushes a lock back. It stubbornly falls into his face again.
I shake my head, feeling a little dizzy with all of the attention on me.
Silas McKnight, a hunky black man whom I found out owns Knight & Day Productions, stands up. “Girl, you’ve got a true gift. Not something we see every day, and believe me, we’re always lookin’.”
“Thank you.” I nudge Nick and gesture to my empty glass.
He whistles, lifts his arm above his above his head, and waves two fingers to Jack, who’s behind the bar. She dismisses the line of people standing in front of her, pours a fresh glass of champagne, and taps a new beer for Nick before hustling over.
“Really amazing. Feel free to clean those pipes out whenever you get a bee stinging your ass.” She hands us the drinks. “Girl, with your face, that body, killer voice…hell yeah. It’s good for business. This is on the house.” She buses the table, winks at me, and then takes her leave.
“So she’s into women, then?” I ask the group, and all of them dissolve in a fit of laughter.
Nick shakes his head. “My dove, so innocent. Yeah, babe. She’s into chicks not dicks.”
“Cool.” I sip my champagne and let the chilly bubbles slide down my parched throat. Nick lets me go so he can visit the bathroom while Silas makes his way over to me.
“You really do have a beautiful voice. I’d sign you in a minute if you’re thinking about going pro.”
I cross my arms around my body. “Not really a stage and lights kind of girl. Singing is something I do for stress release, but I don’t feel that calling.”
“What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I glance toward the bathrooms to check if Nick’s still gone. “I’ve been helping Nick manage his gym, and the work is rewarding. Plus, I get to help Nick, which makes me happy.”
He nods and takes a pull from his beer.
“And I’m working on another secret project now that’s keeping me busy.”
Silas smiles and looks at the stage as if he’s gauging the talent, his hazel eyes a stunning contrast against his mocha-colored skin. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s probably not a hundred percent African American. The other half could very well be Caucasian. Whatever it is, his mother and father did well in the genetics department, because he’s extremely attractive in that smooth and suave GQ way. I prefer my men brute-like, bossy, and Italian, but I know a lot of women would not turn down a date with him.
As I’m about to ask him if he’s seeing anyone, Dara Jackson from Lotus House makes an appearance, pushing through the crowd. Her dress is a tight, shimmery blue number that barely covers her booty. And this woman has a whole lot of booty. Long, dark waves of streaked brown and blonde hair trails down her back in big curls. Once she’s given hugs and says hello to Dash, Amber, Atlas, and Nick as he returns right on cue from the bathroom, Nick hooks her arm and brings her over to where Silas and I stand.
I glance at Silas, and I swear his tongue is hanging out of his mouth. His eyes are all over the sexy newcomer.
I nudge his shoulder. “Hot, huh?”
“So hot,” he whispers back, and I laugh at his obvious discomfort.
Dara is all big smiles, pouty lips, and giant Caribbean-blue eyes. They are so intense, I wonder if the color is real, or maybe she wears contacts for fun or to mess with peoples’ heads.
Nick lets Dara go and loops an arm around me. “Hey, babe, you know Dara Jackson from Lotus House.”
I smile. “I do. Good to see you again.”
She glances at Nick and his possessive hold on me. “Glad you scooped up your man. I’m sure there are yogis everywhere crying into their soy chai latte over the resident hottie being off the market.”
“Absolutely off the market,” Nick confirms and then curves his head toward mine and kisses me. “We’re living together now too.” He says this with pride and another kiss. The man is definitely not concerned about public displays of affection. I’m getting used to it, but for Nick, I’ll manage any discomfort.
“Righteous. And who is this tall, dark drink of heaven?” Her hand extends toward Silas.
He takes hold of her hand, brings it up to his lips, and kisses her knuckles. I swoon right along with Dara, who sways closer toward him.
“I’m Silas McKnight. I work with Atlas.”
Right then, Atlas clasps Silas on the back. “Don’t let him fool you, Dara. He’s my boss. The dude is rich, available, and a hard worker.” He clocks Silas on the arm. “Don’t say I never did nuthin’ for ya, buddy, but I’ve got to get home. Mila says Aria is awake with a fever and calling for her daddy. My girls call, I’m out. Bye, guys. Great job tonight, Honor. Really killer voice. Hope to hear it again soon.”
Silas ruffles Atlas’s hair. “Catch ya Monday. Don’t be late…again!”
Atlas chuckles, lifts a hand above his head, and waves as he exits. Dash and Amber are quick to follow.
“We’ve, um, got plans tomorrow. We should, uh…” Amber twists her lips in a pensive gesture.
Dash chuckles and hooks her around his waist. “I promised my wife a handful of orgasms tonight. It’s been a long week for her. So we’re headed out.”
Amber’s eyes widen. “My goodness. I can’t believe you just said that! Dash!”
“Little bird, everyone here tonight is going to go home and fuck like rabbits. We’re no different. Am I right?”
Nick coughs into his hand. “I’m hitting my girl for sure.” He twists his head to where his lips rest against my ear. “With an emphasis on the hitting part,” he whispers, and a bout of strong arousal slams through my system.
“Yes, please,” I murmur back.
“I think we all need to head home.” Nick sets down his beer, grabs my glass, and adds it to the ones on the table.
“Guys, I just got here!” Dara pouts.
“I’m happy to keep you company.” Silas offers his hand.
Dara smiles, and he leads her over to an empty table before waving to Jack.
“See ya!” Nick says and tugs on my hand before I can even say goodbye.
“Nick, I didn’t say goodbye!”
“Too much time. I need you naked and biting down on my shoulder while I ride you wild. No time to waste.”
The image of me bare, riding him instead, his huge length piercing me deeply, has me positively panting. “Maybe I want to ride you. After the spanking, of course,” I say in my most sultry and submissive voice.
He growls one single word that has my toes curling and my heart pounding.
“Deal.”
* * *
Our family’s Realtor meets me at the laundromat next to Nick’s building a few days later. His suit alone costs twice as much as what Nick pays for his monthly mortgage on his business and home.
Mr. Harbinger wipes a single finger along the top of one of the washing machines. “He’s offering to let you keep all of the equipment and buy the property as is.” He scowls and flicks his fingers.
“Yes, I know; we discussed it. I’m going to keep two of them for washing towels, but the remaining lot of them are being donated to local shelters, missions, and charities that need them. A lot of them are brand new and will do some good for the community,” I explain happily.
Mr. Harbinger frowns. “Are you completely sure you want this property? I can find you far better in more affluent areas.”
I tilt my head. “Another area won’t work. I’m expanding my boyfriend’s business.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder toward the wall that is shared with Nick’s gym.
“The gym? Your significant other is the gym owner next door?”
I smile widely and with pride. “Yes. And the loft. I’m going to hire some of our people to tear down the wall between the two lofts above our gym. It will triple the current size of our home.”
“You live here. On this street, above a filthy gymnasium of men who pound each other with their fists for sport?”
His statement rankles, and I’m unable to keep the glower from appearing across my face. “Mr. Harbinger, you really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. The neighborhood is fine. I know practically everyone now. And Nick takes care of me. Besides, the guys who come to the gym would never let anything happen to me or any woman. It’s perfectly safe.”
“What do your father and mother think about this?” he asks haughtily.
I shrug. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. Do you have the paperwork? I’m eager to sign and get moving on this project.”
He huffs, sets his briefcase on one of the washing machines, and pulls out a stack of papers with yellow tabs where I’m to sign.
“You’re paying above market value.” His tone is conciliatory and condescending at the same time.
I snicker. “I know. Old fella wants to retire. Who am I to deny him what he thinks the place is worth? And I’d have paid more because I want this…very much.”
Mr. Harbinger pushes up his rimless glasses. Nothing on him is out of place. He has snow-white hair, slicked back to perfection. His suit is pressed, nary a wrinkle to be found. Scanning him up and down, I note that he fits into the life my parents have but not mine. Not the life I’m making for myself here in Berkeley with my Italian Stallion.
I take the pen he offers and sign away for the property. I cannot wait to tell Nick about my plan. It’s going to be amazing, but first, I need to donate all the extra equipment and get it cleaned out. Especially the loft. I’m going to hire two teams to outfit the loft at the same time that work is being done below. Then maybe once this half is complete, Nick will let me update the rest of our home.
Silent Sins: A Lotus House Novel: Book Five Page 23
