Collaring Brooke (Club Zodiac Book 3)

by Becca Jameson

  For some reason Brooke found that fact disappointing.

  You are really and truly a freak.

  Who in their right mind would stand in the middle of a BDSM club and watch a woman being whipped while feeling an overwhelming sense of jealousy? Envy crept up Brooke’s cheeks, leaving them flushed and warm.

  She might not know many things about life. She wasn’t worldly. She didn’t have possessions. She lacked education. Her job was a dead end. And worst of all, she’d come home from work that afternoon to find an eviction notice on her apartment door. She had four days to get out.

  She had no idea why she had come to Zodiac tonight. Perhaps it had been a combination of things: Faith canceling on her, her impending eviction, and her life spiraling out of control. Instead of sitting in her dismal apartment staring at the blank walls that would not be hers anymore on Saturday, she’d chosen to escape her life for a few hours, and here she was.

  She knew one thing for certain—she would give anything to trade places with the woman currently attached to that cross.

  Well, perhaps not anything, because she did have a pile of hesitation. The list of reasons holding her back was peculiar. For one, she would never be able to take her clothes off in public like this woman. She didn’t have it in her. Maybe she could do it in a private locked room under Faith’s control, but not in public with people staring at her.

  Two, she would never let a man yield this kind of power over her. A woman maybe, but never a man. Men were not to be trusted. Ever. That fact, if nothing else, was cemented in her brain.

  Three, she didn’t have the guts to voice her desires to anyone, so the point was nearly moot. The closest she’d come to asking for what she desired had been with Faith, who had given her many new experiences over the past several weeks in a private room of the club. Faith had consistently held back on the idea of using her whip, however, insisting Brooke needed to work up to such an experience. They had played with a variety of floggers and even a paddle, but not a whip. Yet.

  Four, she was scared to death to find out what might happen to her psychologically if she allowed herself to be intentionally whipped hard enough to draw blood or at least welts. She feared she might completely fall apart. Or perhaps the experience would somehow provide the absolution she craved and had for months.

  Oh yeah, she was warped. She knew it. But she didn’t have to tell anyone else.

  “Brooke?” Someone was whispering her name. She ignored it, too lost in the scene to care who was speaking to her.

  Tyler had moved on to covering the back of the woman’s thighs. Pink lines crisscrossed her legs from her butt to her knees. Brooke could feel the stinging burn of every strike as if she were the one receiving the whipping instead of the woman strapped to the cross.

  “Brooke?” Her name filtered in louder this time, above a whisper, and it was accompanied by a hand on her shoulder.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected contact, slamming into the wall behind her roughly as she jerked her gaze to the left to see who had touched her.

  Carter.

  Shoot.

  His eyes were wide, palms in the air. He didn’t approach her. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.”

  How did he know that? Her mouth was dry. She stared at him dead in the eye, not blinking. Seeing him truly for the first time. His expression was filled with concern. Her heart raced, but she managed to release the grip she had on her blouse and lower her hand to join the other crossed under her chest.

  She was breathing heavily.

  “Brooke?” he repeated, his voice gentle.

  She licked her lips, still holding his gaze. His eyes were a gorgeous dark blue that held her hostage. His blond hair had grown since she first met him. It was no longer cut so close to his scalp that he looked like he was in the military. She suspected he had been at some point, judging by the fallen soldier tattoo on his biceps. It stuck out of his sleeve far enough for her to recognize the symbol. Besides, most of the time whatever shirt he wore fit him too snuggly.

  Yeah, even though she’d never intentionally made eye contact with him, she wasn’t dead. She was a living, breathing human who knew a hot male body when she saw it. It wasn’t necessary to meet a man’s gaze to know what he looked like from the neck down. She could accomplish an amazingly specific description from her peripheral vision alone.

  Carter scared her to death, however. Not because she was afraid he would hurt her, but rather the opposite. Every encounter with him had indicated he was a genuinely nice guy. He was polite and courteous. He spoke to her calmly every time. And he never got too close, as if he sensed she had issues with being touched.

  He probably thought she had some level of agoraphobia the way she kept her distance from other people, especially him. Including right now.

  He was still holding her gaze, waiting. “You okay? Will you follow me? I’d like to get you some water.”

  She nodded.

  For several more seconds he continued to stare at her as though weighing the possibility that she might not look at him again as soon as he broke the spell.

  He was right. She needed this magnetic pull to be severed, and she needed to guard herself against ever putting herself in a situation like this again. She’d let her guard down. She’d looked into his eyes, and a part of her fortress crumbled. It would need to be rebuilt. Fast.

  Forcing herself to look away, she jerked her gaze to the floor.

  Carter sighed. Disappointed? “Come on.” He swung a hand out to indicate she should follow him at his side. When she lifted her eyes to see where he intended to put that hand, he lowered it slowly. “Please, Brooke. Follow me.”

  She did as he asked for some unknown reason. Rationally, she knew it was the right choice. She had no business continuing to observe that scene. It was luring her into a state of hypnosis. It unnerved her to so readily obey the demands of such a large man—or any man for that matter. But Carter was different somehow. She trusted him more and more as the minutes ticked by. She knew better, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  The devil must have grabbed ahold of her sanity and was now laughing at how easily she had succumbed to a man’s suggestion. Never mind that he had only indicated a desire to get her a drink of water, in her head he might as well have asked her to strip naked and spread her legs. She squeezed her thighs together at the thought.

  And why did she find herself reacting to him unlike any other man she’d ever met? She needed to get out of this club, go back to her apartment, and get a decent night’s sleep. She only had three of those left before she moved into her car. Coming in tonight had been a mistake on several levels.

  There was no way she could run without drawing attention to herself, however, so she followed Carter. He rounded a corner, leading her away from the main room and into a kitchen area.

  The room was brighter and a few other people were milling around, talking in hushed voices. Carter grabbed a water bottle from a row of them on the counter, twisted the lid off, and handed it to her.

  She took it, unable to avoid touching his fingers. She nearly dropped the bottle when she made contact with his skin, making him grip the bottle tighter instead of releasing it while he reached out with the other hand to steady her forearm.

  She stiffened, forcing herself not to freak out. People touched. It happened. Sometimes people touched her even. She didn’t usually react so violently, but bumping into strangers or her boss or other women was not the same thing as making contact with Carter Ellis.

  He did something to her, awakened something inside her that was better left dormant.

  When her gaze went to his fingers wrapped around her wrist, he suddenly released her as if she’d burned him. “Sorry, Brooke. Instinct.” He pointed toward a pair of chairs along the wall. “Come. Sit.”

  “I should go.”

  “Not yet.” His voice was firm. “Please. You need to clear your head first. That scene affected you.”

  He
was right. She followed him to the set of chairs and lowered her unsteady body onto one of them, gripping her thighs together and glancing down to make sure her blouse was still fully buttoned and hanging loose enough not to reveal any curves.

  Luckily she was fully covered. The last thing she needed was for Carter to ogle her body. Out of the question. She’d give him this play because he was right about her being unsteady, but as soon as her brain cells started firing properly again, she was out of there.

  “Take a few deep breaths.” He was sitting on the chair next to her, elbows on his knees. Several inches separated them, and he made no move to close the distance, though he was rubbing his palms together nervously. “I would swear you fell into a sort of subspace from watching.”

  “Probably,” she admitted before she could stop herself. “Faith says I’m easily swayed toward subspace.”

  “Well, Faith knows what she’s talking about. She’s an excellent Domme.”

  Brooke glanced up and asked him the question on the tip of her tongue before she lost her nerve. “Will she be here Saturday? She mentioned people sometimes make appointments or whatever. Could I get one with Faith?”

  Saturday… The day she would move out. The first night she would spend on the streets. Perhaps it was insane and unreasonable, but it suddenly appealed to her to come to the club first. One last appointment with Faith before she faced her new reality. Once she was living in her car, it would be nearly impossible to consider coming to Zodiac for anything other than her job cleaning the place. She hadn’t figured out the logistics of where she might shower or even use the bathroom.

  Carter broke into her musings. “I don’t know. I’ll find out for you. Do you still have my card? You could call me Saturday to confirm.”

  Did she still have his card? She nearly laughed. Not only did she have it, but she could recite it to him from memory. And then she realized she also had Faith’s information.

  She’d never spoken to Faith on the phone. In the past several weeks, Faith had always been at the club on Wednesdays. Until today. Faith had sent her a text to cancel their usual appointment that afternoon, but that had been the first time they’d communicated by cell phone.

  Brooke hadn’t responded to the incoming text. She had only the most basic plan, prepaying for limited service in case of emergencies or for work to contact her. A response to Faith hadn’t been necessary.

  It wouldn’t be necessary to confirm for Saturday either. Brooke would simply show up and hope for the best.

  With a deep breath, she decided she was stable enough to flee. “I should go.” She pushed to standing and spun around to face Carter, trapping him in his seat with the knowledge he would not rush to stand and risk touching her after the way she’d reacted to him already.

  He lifted his gaze to her, but she stared at her shoes.

  She hurried to say several more things in a string of speech that probably made little sense. “Thank you for the tour and for the water and everything. I’ll just go now and come back Saturday.” She turned around fast and nearly ran from the club, taking the stairs two at a time when she hit them and then jogging across the parking lot to her car.

  Her fingers were shaking as she fumbled with the lock, and she didn’t breathe easily until she had the car started and was pulling out of the lot.

  Carter hadn’t followed her. She was both grateful and disappointed at the same time.

  Carter was still worried about Brooke hours later while he worked as the head bouncer. Maybe he should have followed her. It had taken Herculean strength to force himself to let her go. She was so easily skittish, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin any chance he might have at worming his way into her life.

  There was no doubt she reacted strongly to watching someone else’s scene. She had been in subspace from nothing more than observing. How far into her head did she wiggle when she was the one submitting?

  He had considered taking a risk and asking her to submit to him, but it had seemed too soon. She’d hardly made eye contact with him yet. He did think he affected her, but he needed to tread lightly.

  The urge to command her to her knees in front of him had been powerful. He would bet anything she would relax and easily submit if someone took charge. Preferably him. No. Definitely him. The thought of some other man doing it made him grit his teeth.

  In between members coming and going from the club, he sat on a stool near the entrance and pictured her on her knees between his thighs, head bowed, hands clasped behind her, shoulders back. His cock grew stiff at the imagery. He was in a near-constant state of arousal lately as Brooke occupied his mind often enough that he occasionally forgot what he was doing.

  “Hey.”

  Carter jerked his attention to the left to find Lincoln standing a foot away, a smirk on his face. “Where were you? I’ve been speaking to you for a while. I just realized you weren’t hearing me.”

  “Shit. Sorry.”

  Lincoln eyed him suspiciously. “I saw you with Brooke earlier. Did she leave?”

  “Yes.” Carter sighed. “She was a little freaked out after watching Tyler perform. This was her first night coming in while we’re open.”

  Lincoln frowned. “Do you think it was a good idea to let her leave?”

  “I ran out of options. Short of chaining her to the wall, which I’m pretty sure wouldn’t have gone over well. She doesn’t even like people to make eye contact with her, let alone touch her.” He fought the urge to cringe at the admission. Chaining her to the wall might have been a great option. Or it could have completely backfired on him. Either way, he needed to adjust his cock.

  “Do you think she’ll come back?”

  “She asked if she could make an appointment with Faith for Saturday.”

  Lincoln nodded. “Guess we need to check with Rowen on that issue.”

  “It would seem that way.” Carter glanced toward the stairs that led to the third-floor offices. Something was going on between Rowen and Faith. She’d arrived about an hour ago unexpectedly and Lincoln had escorted her upstairs to Rowen’s office. Neither Rowen nor Faith had come back down.

  “Where’s Sasha?” Carter asked Lincoln. Ever since Lincoln had finally hooked up with Rowen’s sister, the tension between everyone had been sliced in half, but their juggling act to avoid each other in the club was hilarious.

  “Upstairs. We’re going to play in a bit after Rowen leaves.”

  Carter chuckled. “You and Rowen planning to arrange your calendars for the rest of your lives just so Rowen doesn’t have to see his sister performing with you?”

  Lincoln shuddered. “Yes. It makes both of them uncomfortable, and I don’t blame them.”

  Carter shook his head. “You don’t let the woman show an inch of skin in the club. How uncomfortable could Rowen be?”

  Lincoln smiled. “What’s with the twenty questions? Get your own woman, and then talk to me about how much you like to share her with other people in any way, shape, or form.” His eyes shot open wider in a mock gesture, and he snapped his fingers as if he’d just come up with a brilliant idea. “I know a certain redhead you could dominate. As soon as you grow a pair of balls,” he teased.

  Carter rolled his eyes and changed the subject. “I’ll be at the Wilson Street house tomorrow, by the way. Meeting the plumber there to figure out what’s happening in the kitchen before we drywall.” Carter had become the head of Lincoln’s construction team, flipping houses, three years earlier when he and Rowen had also become part owners of Zodiac.

  “Okay. I might stop by.”

  “If not, don’t worry. I’ll get it figured out and organize the crew to start on the back porch.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Footsteps coming down the stairs caused Carter and Lincoln to both turn that direction.

  Rowen appeared. “Hey.” He glanced around. “Taking Faith home.” He turned toward Lincoln. “Sasha’s gonna walk her down in a minute. I’m pulling the car up.”

&
nbsp; Lincoln nodded. “Got it.”

  Carter watched as Rowen rushed down the second set of stairs. Yeah, something was going on between him and Faith. Carter hoped it didn’t affect Brooke since she had a rapport with Faith that didn’t extend to many other people.

  Hopefully Rowen wouldn’t prevent Faith from topping Brooke Saturday night. He needed to broach the subject with his friend. But obviously not now. Rowen had fled down the stairs as if his heels were on fire.

  Chapter 6

  Friday morning started like any other day. Brooke climbed out of bed, joined a coworker at an attorney’s office they cleaned every other Friday, and finished right on time. At two o’clock, as she was climbing back in her car, she got a text from her boss asking her to come into the office.

  Ordinarily she wasn’t required to check in with the office often. Her schedule was set. If she didn’t show up for work, the various companies she cleaned for would call her boss. Unless she was sick—which had never happened in the four years she’d been working for CCS—she had no reason to touch base daily with the office.

  Something felt off. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands as she drove under the speed limit to reach the head office. When she arrived, the secretary greeted her without making eye contact and told her Mr. Zellerman was waiting. She could go right in.

  Great. The last thing she needed was to be reprimanded for something, but she’d spent the last twenty minutes wracking her mind to come up with a reason she might be in trouble and nothing jumped out at her.

  “Mr. Zellerman?” She eased the door shut behind her and inched forward slowly.

  His brow was furrowed, and he didn’t stand as he pointed at the chair on the other side of his desk. “Brooke. Take a seat.”

  She hadn’t finished lowering into the chair before he continued, leaning back in his chair. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”