Sweet Surrender (Club Stratosphere Book 2)

by Danielle Gavan

  “I was just finishing up with putting the linens away upstairs. Are you good here for a bit while I get that done?” I rounded the back of the couch, out of his line of sight and intense scrutiny. “It should only be ten minutes or so. Dinner will be ready by then. We can eat in the kitchen, or I can bring trays in here, if you’d prefer.”

  John pivoted against the cushions, his large hand circling my wrist in a firm grip. “Liv. Stop. Sit.” I tensed and he must have felt it. His grip loosened, releasing my wrist, and he patted the cushion beside him. “Please don’t make me issue it as an order.” He turned his head, glancing at me over his shoulder, the threat of pulling the ‘Dom card’ evident in his eyes. “Something is very clearly going on here, and it needs to be discussed. Now.”

  A slow breath hissed from my lungs. Crap. My shoulders rounded a little as I made my way around and took a seat on the other cushion. He gave me a small, grateful smile and I shrugged. I’d hoped to ignore the elephant in the room for a little while longer, but the option was no longer a viable one. John wanted to confront it, and I couldn’t say no to him. I hadn’t been able to deny his desires from moment one when we met at the club as Master John and Kat. The connection between us had been undeniable, a recognition of souls. The fact that we were much more than Dominant and submissive didn’t escape my notice, and made me stay put to see what he thought about the situation.

  Curled around a throw pillow wedged into my lap, I sighed and lifted my green eyes to meet his hazel ones. I bit my lip, considering my words.

  “As you know,” he began and saved me from being the first to speak. “I’m aware of my alternate lifestyles as JJ Boom and, apparently, Master James.” I nodded, eyes trained on the expanse of cushion between us. A heaviness formed in the pit of my stomach as I waited for him to continue. “I know you were unaware that I was JJ Boom, so what I need to know is... Did you know the rest? Anything?”

  My eyes flew open wide at his question. I stared at him, the pillow gripped tight to my chest. The urge to toss it at his head surged up and I struggled to resist the impulse. Was he serious? I tilted my head, taking in the calm expression on his face. Yes, he was serious. One at a time, I unclenched my hands from the pillow and jammed them through my hair. My fingers snagged on tangles and I let out a frustrated growl as I tugged the snarls free.

  “I didn’t know a damned thing.” I sat back against the arm of the couch, jaw clenched and head hung low. “You always wore a half mask when we were together as Master James and Kat. The same with when you were JJ Boom. There was always some sort of disguising factor hiding your face. So no, I never made the connection between the Master, the rock star and the patient under my care. Not until you, and then Matthews, connected the dots.” Scrubbing my face between my hands, I let out a sigh and met his gaze. “This is all a huge, tangled mess. I don’t know why everything is coming to light now. I really don’t, and I’m pretty sure we’d both still be in the dark had it not been for your accident.” I bit the edge of my bottom lip, jumping when a buzzer went off in another room. My feet hit the floor, and I was off the couch in an instant. “Damn it. I forgot about dinner in the oven.”

  I glanced at him as I retreated from the room and escaped to the kitchen. He watched as I all but ran from him, a frown creasing his brow and his lips set in a firm, determined line. This discussion wasn’t over, his expression said. I cringed internally as I hot-footed it across the room to the kitchen and pulled a pan of bubbling, cheesy lasagna out of the oven. A cloud enveloped me in the aromas of oregano, cheese and tomato sauce. I set the pan on the counter and busied myself with preparing the garlic bread to accompany the pasta and salad for our dinner. The cogs in my brain whirred and turned the situation over, trying to make sense of the events over the last month. As much as I hated to admit it, John and I would have to figure it out together, no matter how uncomfortable it made me. The territory we’d wandered into was foreign for both of us, and we would need to figure it out together, one step at a time.

  Chapter Twelve

  John

  I observed Olivia as we worked together over the next few weeks. She put me through my paces, increasing my muscular and mental strength with each new set of exercises. I fell into bed exhausted every night, my body growing stronger and my memories returning in agonizingly small glimpses with each day that passed. We spent much of the days together, an easy friendship forming between us.

  Liv grew easier with me, smiling more often and opening up to a deeper familiarity. She remained professional, but I could see the yearning that burned beneath her careful, guarded demeanor. Each time a new memory surfaced, we discussed the images and how I felt about them; except for those that involved the relationship between Master James and Kat. Olivia shied from the topic like a skittish colt who’d had the spurs applied one too many times. After the first couple of attempts to draw her into conversation about those memories, I kept them to myself and mulled them over in my rare visitor-free private moments.

  Over time, I’d pieced together most of my memories and recalled the moment when, a few days before the accident, I’d connected the dots that linked OKHughes, my number one fan, to Kat, my beautiful little submissive at Club Stratosphere. The knowledge had rocked me, and I’d retreated to my room for an evening to wrap my head around the realization. What remained to be uncovered were the details of the weekend we had spent together in the playroom upstairs. The memories remained shrouded no matter what I tried to push through and clear them up.

  When I’d woken up this morning, I’d dressed simply in a pair of thin pajama pants. No visitors were expected, and I planned to enjoy the quiet. I found a note taped to Liv’s bedroom door on my trip down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. I pulled the small piece of paper from the wooden panel and took it down the stairs with me. In neat, rounded script Olivia advised that she was making a brief trip to the grocery store and would be back no later than nine-thirty. It was Sunday, and I knew without question what she needed at the store. Sunday was waffles and bacon. Sunday was homefries and freshly squeezed orange juice. It was joking around at the table, reading the comics in the paper together and relaxing on the back porch with our coffee cups. It was me, being me, and Olivia being Liv.

  I glanced at the clock hung above the microwave as I poured my coffee and noted the time.

  With at least an hour to myself before she was due back, I grasped my mug and returned upstairs. The second room on the left side of the hall had been studiously avoided since my return home. There seemed to be no better time than the present to face that particular set of memories head-on. I took my time traversing the twenty feet from the top of the stairs to the bedroom door. A mix of apprehension and anticipation filled me. Olivia and I had shared an experience behind that door. Something I remembered in bits and pieces, fragments of imagery, sounds and smells that teased my senses. I was eager to possess the full memory once more. Maybe then I’d be able to release the tension and frustration built up inside of me.

  I set my empty cup on the floor beside the door, placed my hand on the knob and pushed into the room. What I expected to find inside was not the reality of what greeted me behind the mundane cross and book panel that kept the room’s secrets hidden. A queen size bed covered in a mound of cream colored linens with black accents butted against the back wall between two large windows. It looked inviting, and I almost let myself be enticed to crawl in beneath the covers. Bright morning light spilled in through sheer curtains, their cream color lending a soft glow to the room. The foot of the bed played host to a black leather ottoman that matched the stitched leather headboard. I approached the piece of furniture, instinctively reaching down to lift a panel. The piece rose and transformed into what I somehow knew turned into a custom designed spanking bench. I let the panel fall back into place for further investigation at a later date.

  The memory flashed of a lithe body straddling the bench, a fine sheen of sweat glistening off her skin. Olivia lay face down, bare a
nd with her backside glowing from the heavy flogger grasped in my hand. A tendril of auburn hair had escaped the long skein of her ponytail, limp and sweat dampened against her cheek. Her wrists were cuffed to the bench at one end, and her ankles were attached at the other as the buffalo leather flogger I wielded swished through the air and kissed her skin. She grunted from the impact but showed no other sign of discomfort as I rained down blow after blow until her skin warmed to a bright, healthy pink.

  My thin cotton pajama bottoms were no match for the erection straining to break free of them. I stepped back from the bench, pushing the memory aside, and moved to the next piece of furniture. A large wooden x-shaped structure reclined to the right of the bed. Silver rings were bolted to the polished wood, and heavy leather cuffs hung from the highest loops. Another set were fastened to bolts near the bottom of each beam, resting on the platform that held the solid oak contraption upright. The words Saint Andrews Cross flitted through my mind and I smiled as pieces began to fit together, the memory of my weekend in this room with Olivia becoming clearer by the second.

  I lost track of time as I moved around the room and explored every memory that its contents provoked. The sounds of leather on flesh, moans of pleasure, cries and exclamations of pain, and pleas for more, to not stop, to make it hurt. The feel of her supple muscles under soft skin was almost palpable. The sweet, citrusy scent of her Satsuma perfume tickled my nose as my brain recalled the first time I’d pressed my lips to the curve of her throat and breathed her in.

  “John?” Olivia’s voice yanked me from the memory I’d lost myself in. I blinked, clearing the image of her bound to the bench while I thrust into her from behind. Shit. I scrubbed my face and glanced down at the tent in my pajama pants. How in the hell was I going to hide that from her if I turned around?

  Reluctant to turn and let Olivia see my very apparent state of arousal, I pivoted my shoulders slightly to look at her over my left shoulder. She stood in the doorway, her thick auburn hair piled in a messy bun on the crown of her head and a frown creasing her brow. A mix of fear and concern warred for dominance in her beautiful green eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Perfect little teeth worried at the corner of her mouth and I fought the urge to tug her lip free. “I called out a couple of times and you didn’t answer me.”

  I turned back to face the cross and closed my eyes for a brief moment. “Yeah. I just wanted... Hell, I don’t know what I wanted. I came in here to face this room. Face us.”

  “Oh.” Her soft gasp reached me across the fifteen-foot span separating us. I waited for her to say more, but nothing came. Tension snapped between us like a taut fishing line. She was the lure, and I was the fish caught in her snare; the very willing fish waiting, wanting her to reel me in.

  Silence stretched from seconds into minutes without another word from either of us. I closed my eyes, shoulders rounding as my head drooped forward. She wasn’t ready, I surmised. She needed more time to deal with what had been and what could still be if we gave it a chance. The question, I told myself, was whether she wanted there to be an ‘us’ or not.

  Warm fingers ghosted over the middle of my back, slipping up the length of my spine. I shivered, realizing that Olivia hadn’t walked away as I thought after my declaration. She nudged my bare shoulder, urging me to turn and face her. I did, taking note of the wide set of her eyes, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. Firm, round breasts that I’d bound and tortured on more than one occasion. Small, dusky pink nipples that had seen the teeth of my clamps whenever them whim suited me. I felt my cock stir again and squashed the carnal thoughts before they took root.

  She tilted her head a fraction to the right, her mint green eyes assessing me. “Do you want there to be an ‘us’, John?” Lowering her gaze, she placed both hands on my chest. Olivia was thinking so hard I could almost hear it as she catalogued reasons why we could and couldn’t be together. I wanted to take the list and shred it, toss it in the air like confetti and let it snow down around us. “Is that something that can even happen? The Club Strat Masters aren’t allowed to maintain public relationships with their subs, and I won’t be kept as a secret. Not anymore. It was fine when we didn’t know each other outside of the club, or private events. But now? No.”

  I placed my hands over hers, curling my fingers around Olivia’s much smaller ones, and stepped closer. The sweet scent of her perfume drifted on the air and I inhaled, pulling it deep into my lungs. My mouth watered. Nothing had ever smelled so sweet, as tantalizing as she did. She fidgeted and I refocused, meeting her eyes with mine.

  “I want an ‘us’, Liv.” I pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, directly on the little frown lines between her brows. “Fuck the rules at the club. Fuck what others will think that JJ Boom is dating a fan. I don’t care. We’re human, and I think it’s time for a little loosening of the rigid standards the five of us hold ourselves to at Stratosphere, and in the band.” She lowered her lashes, a small smile playing at her lips as she looked away. Her posture relaxed, a clear indication that I’d said the right thing. I hoped. “If this accident has taught me anything, Liv, it’s that we shouldn’t take the people, place or things that matter to us for granted. We should enjoy our lives to the fullest, every day. Before the explosion, I was living three separate lives and splitting myself into different people because I was afraid of what others might think. No more. I want you. All of me wants all of you.” I nudged beneath her chin, urging her to look up at me. Her lashes lifted to reveal the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen and I smiled. “If you’ll have me?”

  Olivia studied me, her face impassive and giving away nothing of what was going on behind those pretty green eyes. Where I’d been able to read her like an open book before, she’d completely closed herself off and left me to wonder what was going on inside her head. I hated it. I needed to know. I needed her. In my life. In my bed. In my playroom. Nothing else would do. No one else fit the way she did.

  She tilted her head, lashes lowered just enough to conceal her eyes from me. The edges of her mouth kicked up in a cutesy little smile. I recognized the look. Knew it well. She was making me sweat it out, the little minx.

  “Brat.” I grinned, mouth stretching in the widest smile ever as I scooped her up into my arms. She squealed, protesting between giggles against the exertion as I carried her around the edge of the bed and rounded to the left side. “Shush. I’m fine. You know it, and I know it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  John

  Olivia settled back against the pillows, the cream and black accent cushions framing her sun kissed skin and auburn hair to perfection. She smiled, her eyes flashing with desire as I leaned in, covering her body with mine. Our mouths came together, a gentle brushing together of lips at first. Liv threaded her fingers through my hair, the scrape of her nails against my scalp sending a shiver down my spine. I groaned as intense lust surged through me, and lowered myself to lie against the length of her.

  She smelled of sweet citrus and Olivia, the mix intoxicating and addictive. Her skin was soft wherever my fingertips skimmed over it, the thin tank top and short shorts she wore leaving much of her exposed to my touch. I took advantage, teasing along the span of her left thigh from Olivia’s knee to the crease of her hip. A soft moan and tilt of her hips were the rewards for my efforts.

  I broke from the kiss, pressing smaller kisses across her right cheek until I reached the soft bit of skin beneath her ear. She shivered and I smirked as her fingers tightened in my hair. I nipped at the tender spot, sinking my teeth in a little further when she gasped and arched her back. The soft rounds of Olivia’s breasts pressed into my chest, her nipples hard where they met my skin through the thin cotton barrier.

  “Good girl,” I murmured after releasing the bite and kissing the abused flesh. My fingers dug into her hair, tugging her head back and arching her neck. I nuzzled her, licking the rapid flicker where her pulse beat frantically beneath the skin. “Such a beautiful little kitten. You’re min
e now, aren’t you?”

  Olivia nodded, breath heaving with each inhale. “Yes,” she moaned. I tugged her hair again, a reminder of the appropriate answer. She licked her lips and gave me what I wanted. “Yes, Master. I’m yours.”

  I grinned and rewarded her with a kiss, bruising and possessive. My mouth claimed hers, a clash of tongues and teeth. She groaned and opened to me, her sweet surrender another victory in the battle to regain my memories, my life and my self.

  Loosening my grip on her hair, I broke from the kiss. Our breaths collided in the scant space between us; her eyes locked onto mine as I peeled away the tank top and tugged it over her head. I feasted on the sight of her bared breasts, the tips of her dusky pink nipples erect and begging to feel the edges of my teeth. As tempted as I was to sink my teeth into her tantalizing flesh, I resisted. I knew how Olivia ticked, and giving her too much pain would send her over the edge much quicker than I wanted. The goal was to draw it out, give her a mix of pleasure and pain and keep her on edge until I was ready to send her soaring over the finish line.

  “Not yet.” I smirked, nipping at the underside of her left breast as I moved lower. A series of glistening spots decorated her skin, a trail of kisses and licks that followed my descent down her belly. The closer I got to the juncture of her thighs, the stronger the scent of her arousal became. My mouth watered eager to have the taste of her on my tongue once more. It had been entirely too long since I’d last sampled Olivia’s sweet, musky juices and the delicate pink folds of her pussy.

  The idea of leaving her shorts on and tonguing her through the material tempted me, but I pushed it aside. I wanted the intimacy of skin on skin, in every possible way. There would be time for other things later. Today, right now, was about coming together—laying claim to what should have been mine long before this moment.