Claiming Fifi

by Tara Crescent

  After dinner, the three of us fool around, but we don’t have sex. “Why not?” I ask, a definite pout in my voice.

  Adrian’s eyes narrow. “Fifi,” he says. “If I were you, I’d reconsider that tone.” His voice softens. “I want you, Fiona, don’t get me wrong. But I also want to get to know you.”

  Not going to lie, I swoon a little at that.

  “Of course, we own your orgasms,” Brody tells me, his eyes twinkling. “So you can’t go home and finger yourself, little kitten.” He grins at me, hot, dominant and wicked, utterly confident that I’m going to obey. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait until Friday.”

  On second thought, cancel that swoon. “You,” I glare at him, trying not to break out into a smile, “are a jerk.”

  “I’m sorry, Fifi. What was that again?”

  Damn. Gotta address my dominant with respect. This time, I don’t hide my smile. “You are a jerk, Mr. Payne.”

  The week passes. Despite my increasing suspicions that there is no blackmail attempt, I spend the better part of Wednesday and Thursday investigating Maria Dumonte. I read her social media posts and making careful note of who likes her status updates on Facebook. I follow her to her marketing job on Wednesday and tail her to her girls’ night out.

  And… nothing. If Maria Dumonte is worried that someone’s trying to blackmail her, I can’t see it. The more time I spend watching her, the more convinced I am that Xavier hired me under false pretenses.

  Then again, I can’t be too irritated. Had it not been for this job, I’d have never faced my fears. I’d never have seen Adrian and Brody.

  It’s been really hard obeying their rule about not touching myself. I can’t wait for Friday afternoon to roll around. I can’t wait to return to Club Ménage.

  27

  Fiona:

  This time, when we drive out to Club Ménage, anticipation buzzes through me. All week, I’ve been craving Brody and Adrian. Now, I get them to myself for the entire weekend.

  Two dominants, Adrian and Brody. One submissive, me. An infinite variety of games, with ropes, crops, whips, clamps, and more. I am so ready.

  We check in. I’m in the same room as I was last week, and Adrian and Brody have rooms next to me. “I’m assuming you need to change,” Brody says to me as we ride up in the elevator.

  “And shower, if I have time.”

  Adrian glances at his watch. “I need to respond to some emails,” he says. “Why don’t we meet you downstairs in an hour and a half? That’ll give you enough time to get ready, won’t it?”

  My insides are tingling with excitement. “Yes, Mr. Lockhart.”

  A surprise awaits me in my room. A vase overflowing with purple and pink orchids dominates the small desk by the windows, and there is a note underneath. On the bed, an outfit is laid out. It’s a floor-length red evening gown, made from the softest silk. Next to the dress is a pair of nude-colored heels.

  Very sneaky, Mr. Payne and Mr. Lockhart.

  I pick up the note.

  Fifi,

  We have plans for you tonight, so make sure you’re ready. The gown is a gift for you. It would make us very happy if you wear it tonight.

  Adrian and Brody

  I race through my shower. I spend a lot more time than I usually do on my makeup and hair, and then I slip into the dress and look at my reflection in the mirror. Oh, my.

  The dress is low-cut. The vee-neck plunges almost to my belly-button. The long skirt has a slit up the side, cut to my hip. They don’t even have to take the dress off to fuck me.

  There are no panties in sight. I guess I’m not supposed to wear them. A shiver of lust runs through me. I can’t wait for tonight.

  When I’m ready, I glance at the clock by the bed. It’s a little after nine. I’m supposed to meet Adrian and Brody in thirty minutes. I can either sit around my room and wait, or… I can head down early. See if I can get Kiera, the chatty bartender, to talk about Raymond.

  Brody and Adrian aren’t going to like it.

  I know. I know. But I’m not technically disobeying them. I have no intention of confronting Raymond. I just want to do some discreet investigating.

  “Look who’s here.” Keira, the pink-haired bartender, greets me with a friendly smile. “You’re the talk of the club, you know.”

  I take a seat at the bar. “Why?”

  “Mr. Lockhart and Mr. Payne haven’t been to the club for two years. Everyone’s curious about the woman they’re scening with.” Her body stiffens as she looks over my shoulder. “Fuck,” she mutters under her breath. “This guy again.”

  I turn my head, following her gaze, and my heart speeds up in my chest. It’s Raymond, and this time, he’s not alone. A submissive is walking behind him, a leash attached to her collar, her eyes lowered to the floor.

  I can’t tear my eyes away from the girl. She’s tall and skinny, with long dark hair. Her head is bowed. She’s wearing a black tank top and a short black skirt. Underneath, her nipples are clearly being gripped by clamps. Though she has to be in pain, her expression is stoic, resigned.

  Too clearly, I remember that feeling.

  I was hoping to pump Kiera for information. Here’s my chance. “Who is he?” I ask, pretending I don’t know Raymond.

  “A fucking asshole,” she almost snarls. “There are all kinds of people at the club. Some are sticklers for protocol. Others are more relaxed. But there are very few people who get my back up, and that guy is one of them.”

  “Why? Because of the leash?”

  “No.” There’s simmering anger in her tone. “It’s because he treats Katya like dirt. Keep watching.”

  Raymond takes a seat in a booth in the far corner of the room, joining a pair of men already there. He says something to his submissive. She nods obediently and approaches the bar. As soon as Kiera sees her walking toward us, she reaches for a bottle of scotch in the back. “Scotch and soda, please,” the woman says in accented English. “My master would like the eighteen-year-old Glenmorangie.”

  Xavier’s accent is difficult to identify. This woman’s accent is far easier. She’s Russian, maybe Ukrainian.

  Up close, she looks terrified. As she waits for Keira to pour the drink, she keeps her eyes on the ground. When Kiera hands her the scotch, she takes it with a murmur of thanks and makes her way back to Raymond, kneeling in front of him and holding out the drink.

  He takes it from her without acknowledging her presence and continues his conversation with the man seated opposite him. “See what I mean?” Keira says. “Asshole.”

  “That’s just protocol,” I argue. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Three weeks ago,” she says grimly, “The bar was really busy, and I was distracted when I made the drink. I used the wrong kind of scotch. Instead of sending her back, he dragged her off to be punished.”

  “At the club?”

  “No. Here, the monitors will stop punishments if they get too extreme. He took her home. When she came back two weeks later, her ass was still bruised. He’d caned her, and he’d broken skin in several places. Katya was a mass of welts.”

  She wipes the counter clean with a cloth and leaves to fill a couple of drink orders at the far end. When she returns, she continues her rant. “He never lets her out of his sight,” she says. “She’s not allowed to talk to anyone, not even the other submissives. That’s not domination. That’s abuse.”

  “Why hasn’t anyone interfered?”

  “People have tried. Xavier talked to her, but she insisted everything was okay. A couple of submissives tried to reach out as well and were rebuffed. He’s got her firmly under his thumb.” She exhales in frustration. “You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves.”

  How well I know that.

  “All you can do,” Keira continues, “is to keep an eye on them and make sure they’re okay. Make sure they realize there’s help if they need it.”

  Katya says something to Raymond, and he nods curtly.
She heads in the direction of the bathroom. Acting on instinct, I get to my feet to follow her.

  I’ve been there. I’ve felt trapped by Raymond. I have to intervene. Because Adrian and Brody are right. This lifestyle comes with responsibility.

  She’s washing her hands as I enter, lost in thought. She looks up when I walk in, and then drops her head again.

  Every inch of her is defeated. I see her, and I see myself two years ago. This had been me those last few weeks. Had Raymond not pushed too far, had he not threatened to share me, I might still be there. Trapped with him, my self-esteem eroding in his corrosive presence.

  “Katya, can we talk for a minute?”

  She gives me a startled look. “How do you know my name?”

  I take a deep breath. “Because Raymond Downing used to be my master.”

  She goes still for a split-second, and then her gaze darts to the door. “Master doesn’t like it when I talk to strangers.”

  She’s looking for a way to escape, and I have only one chance to get through to her. “I know. Does he still hold his weekly poker games on Wednesday?” I take a deep breath. “I used to hate Wednesdays. Six men leering at me, six men pinching my nipples and smacking my ass, knowing they could do whatever they wanted to my body because Raymond wouldn’t stop them.”

  She nods slightly.

  I place my hand on her upper arm, and she flinches visibly. “Katya, you don’t have to stay with him,” I say, my pulse racing. “Someone told me once that submission is a precious gift. Give it to someone who deserves it. Not Raymond.”

  Her shoulders slump, and she doesn’t look at me. “I can’t,” she whispers.

  Damn it. Was I this stubborn?

  Yes, yes you were.

  “He killed someone in Thailand,” I say harshly. “He could kill you.” I take a deep breath and try to calm down. “You can leave. I promise you, I’ll help you. I know how lonely it feels, but you aren’t alone.”

  She shakes her head mutely.

  I’m losing her. “Raymond’s rich and well-connected, but my friends are more powerful than he is. We will keep you safe.”

  “It’s too late for that.” Her face crumples. “No one can keep me safe.” She pushes past me, her eyes bleak, and makes for the door. I watch her leave, a heavy sense of failure in my heart.

  How can you save someone who doesn’t want to be saved?

  28

  Brody:

  “Brody Payne and Adrian Lockhart,” a voice booms out. “Xavier told me you guys were around, but I didn’t believe him.”

  I turn toward Kai Bowen with a grin. “Long time, buddy. What’s new?”

  He chuckles and slaps my back. “You tell me. Everyone’s gossiping about your new submissive.”

  Adrian rolls his eyes. “Of course they are.”

  The elevator doors open and Maddox Wake, another friend I haven’t seen in a long time, steps out, his face breaking out into a smile when he sees the two of us. “It’s good to see you guys back here,” he greets us. “Are you here for the show?”

  “The show?”

  Kai grins. “There’s a rumor that a very special guest is going to be here tonight.”

  Neither Kai nor Maddox is easily excited. “Who?”

  “Rafael Garcia,” Maddox replies.

  I whistle silently. Once upon a time, Xavier and Rafael had been inseparable, but then Lina had died, and Layla, the submissive that Xavier and Rafael shared, had left them. Ever since then, the two men do their best to avoid each other. To the best of my knowledge, Rafael has never once set foot into Xavier’s club, and vice versa.

  “Rafael’s coming here?” Adrian sounds as surprised as I feel. “Why?”

  Maddox shrugs. “Who can tell? Rafael is even more of a closed book than Xavier.”

  That’s true. I’ve only ever seen Rafael show emotion once. That February afternoon at Lina’s grave.

  We nod at the bouncer at the door and enter the club, making our way by unspoken agreement to the bar. I glance around, looking for Fiona, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Adrian looks at his watch. “She’s late.”

  “The ‘she’ in question is your new submissive?” Maddox asks. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.” His eyes sparkle with wicked amusement. “And if you need help punishing her…”

  I glare at him. “Thanks. I’ll pass.”

  He laughs and holds up his hands. “No offense meant, buddy.”

  “Before punches are thrown, let’s change the topic,” Kai cuts in.” Drinks? I’ll buy the first round.”

  I raise my hand to catch Kiera’s attention, and she comes up to us immediately. “Gentlemen,” she greets us with a smile. “The usual?”

  “Yes, please, Kiera. Have you seen Fiona around?”

  She nods. “She was just here, but she went to the bathroom. I think she was talking to Katya?”

  “Who’s Katya?”

  The smile is wiped off her face. “Mr. Downing’s submissive,” she says tightly.

  I glance covertly at Adrian and notice the tension on his face. Damn it. Fiona doesn’t understand how much Adrian blames himself for Sandy’s death. If something were to happen to her at Club Ménage, Adrian’s going to feel responsible all over again. Even though it was Xavier who got her involved. Even though it was Fiona’s choice to come back. Because guilt is like that. It’s instinctive and irrational.

  Then the washroom door opens, and Fiona comes out, and all my thoughts evaporate when I see her wearing the dress we picked out for her.

  She’s a vision.

  She looks around the club floor and sees us. A smile breaks out on her face as she makes her way over. “Hi,” she says when she gets to my side. “I got here a little early.”

  And used the extra time as an opportunity to snoop. But that’s not a conversation that I’m going to have in front of Kai and Maddox. “Fiona, meet Kai Bowen and Maddox Wake. Kai, Maddox, Fiona Clarke.”

  She hesitates for a split-second and then extends her hand out. “Good to meet you,” she says. “I’m sorry I missed your fire-play demo.”

  “Were you curious?” Kai’s lips twitch. “I’m happy to give you a private session.”

  I rest my hand on the small of her back. “I don’t think so,” I say flatly, possessively. She’s ours.

  “I don’t want one, Mr. Payne,” she assures me.

  Mr. Payne. When she calls me that, her voice breathy, her eyes heated, my cock hardens. All I want to do is take her to a private room, rip that dress off her and claim her.

  Fiona:

  For a brief second when Brody introduces me to his friends, I don’t know how to greet them. Should I kneel? Call them Sir?

  Then I clue in. He called me Fiona, not Fifi.

  Kai says something about giving me a fire play demo, but his eyes are twinkling when he says it, and his amusement is directed at Adrian and Brody, not me. He’s trying to make them jealous. They have nothing to worry about. Kai Bowen’s a good-looking guy, but he doesn’t make my heart skip a beat.

  The five of us chat. Kai is a cardiac surgeon, and Maddox is a photographer. “How do you know each other?” I ask.

  “We went to college together,” Adrian replies.

  I remember Avery’s reaction when I mentioned Kai Bowen’s name. I look at the dark-haired man. “This might sound a little random,” I ask, knowing full well that I’m sticking my nose into something that’s none of my business, “but do you happen to know someone called Avery Welch?”

  Both Kai and Maddox freeze. “Avery?”

  “Yeah. She’s from London. Dark hair, about this tall?” I stick my hand in the air. Avery’s a good six inches taller than me. “Bad habit of quoting Monty Python?”

  Kai’s smile is strained. “That sounds like Avery. We used to know each other a long time ago, but we’ve lost touch.”

  There’s definitely a tension there. Were they lovers? Did it end badly?

  Are you playing matchmaker, now, Fiona? I mock myself. You’
re starting to resemble Xavier.

  Before I can say something to smooth over the situation, the men stiffen. “Well, fuck me,” Adrian says softly. “I never thought I’d see them together again.”

  I follow his gaze and see three people walk into the club, two men, and one beautiful woman. Xavier Leforte is the only one I recognize. “Who are they?”

  Brody replies. “The man is Rafael Garcia,” he says, never taking his eyes off the trio. “He runs a club called Phoenix halfway between New York and Philadelphia. It’s more hardcore than this place.”

  “And the woman?”

  Brody's lips twist. “Remember Lina, the girl who died?”

  “Yes.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see expressions of surprise on both Kai and Maddox’s faces. “You told her about Lina,” Kai says. “Ahh. Sorry.”

  I have no idea what he’s apologizing for, but Brody must know because he nods. “That’s Lina’s twin sister, Layla,” he continues. ” She was their submissive fifteen years ago. She left them when Lina died.”

  Oh wow. I watch the three of them. I’m not the only one. Practically everyone is looking at them, including Maria Dumonte, who’s staring at Xavier with a shattered expression on her face. Poor girl. She’s young, and she’s clearly besotted with the club owner. This can’t be easy for her.

  “They’re heading to the semi-private playrooms,” Adrian says. “The walls are made of glass,” he explains for my benefit. “You can see in, but the people in the room can’t see out. Some members like the thrill of knowing that they might have an audience.”

  My nipples pebble and my breathing quickens. Brody glances up. “From your expression, Fifi,” he murmurs, “You might be one of them. Come. Let’s watch the show.”

  I’m worried about Katya, about the hold that Raymond seems to have over her, but when they look at me with heated eyes, my worry fades to the background, and lust comes roaring back to the forefront.

  Yes, Mr. Payne.