CLUB DARK LACE: The complete Dark Lace series

by Measha Stone

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He inclined his head, giving Carissa a soft smile but making no move to actually exit the conversation.

  “Oh, it’s all right.” She took a small step back, though with the crush of people waiting to be allowed into the playrooms, she bumped into another person and had to apologize to them.

  “It’s really crowded here.” He scanned the crowd. “Almost too much so.” His lips flattened together. “I need to speak to someone.” With an annoyed glance around the room, he placed his hands on her shoulders.

  She should shove him away. But his hands, the warm touch of his skin against her body sent a shiver down her spine. A feeling more comforting than irritating.

  “The lounge isn’t as packed. Will you go sit at a table for me, and I’ll meet you over there?” His eyes were back on her; the smile had returned as well.

  “I don’t—”

  “I’m Jamison Croft. When you order a drink, tell the bartender to put it on my tab. Unless you had other plans?” His left eyebrow arched.

  “No—but I came with my friend, and I think I should stay with her.”

  “Oh. Of course.” His gaze swept over to Jade then back again.

  “It’s fine, Carissa,” Jade said. “I deal with my nerves better on my own anyway.”

  Carissa nibbled her lower lip. She didn’t know him, and it was a little arrogant of him to walk up to her and claim her. Yet that little sensor inside her that warned her when a douchebag approached remained quiet.

  “I really do need to get this crowd issue taken care of. If you’d like to have a drink with me, I’ll look for you over in the lounge.” He looked around once more and gave her shoulders a little squeeze.

  Before he walked off again, he leaned down and whispered. “I’d prefer you didn’t have any liquor.”

  She felt her brow crinkle. Presumptuous to boot!

  “It’s of course up to you. I hope you’ll be there.” He gave her another squeeze and pushed through the crowd, heading toward what seemed to be the main offices of the club.

  Once he disappeared into the offices, her feet moved. She mumbled to Jade she’d be at the lounge, but with the crowd of people and music starting up, she doubted Jade heard her.

  The bartender scooped up an empty glass and took it behind the bar as Carissa stepped up.

  “How can I help you?” Another handsome man smiled at her. Was it a requirement for the club? Though she’d met the bartender a few days back, when she’d taken it upon herself to check out the club before bringing Jade.

  “A Shirley Temple, please.” Jamison had said to put it on his tab, but she pulled out a few bills from her small clutch and handed them over.

  “Coming right up.” He went about making the non-alcoholic drink while she watched. She’d met men at the clubs before. Almost every kinky boyfriend she’d had she’d run into at a club, but this meeting felt different.

  Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of any fanciful notions. Her type of relationship wouldn’t last long. They never did. And not just hers, but all the kink relationships she’d seen barely made it out of the gate before the shine wore off.

  “Here you go. And here’s your money. Jamison said it’s on him and to go sit at the far table in the corner.”

  She plucked the bills from his outstretched hand and looked over her shoulder. She noticed Jamison right away. His eyes made contact with hers, and he smiled, waving his little walkie—talkie in the air and making a pointing gesture. Where was her anger at his behavior?

  “Thanks,” she mumbled to the bartender and found the table Jamison had mentioned.

  He’d been right. The lounge wasn’t crowded at all. The sign hanging on the wall stating that in order to sit at a table you needed to have purchased a drink probably had something to do with it.

  After only a few sips in, Jamison arrived, wearing a wide grin. He handed the walkie—talkie over to the waitress who passed by and took his seat across from her.

  “A Shirley Temple.” He nodded at her glass with another approving grin. “Good choice.”

  “Did you want to order a drink?” She pointed at the bar when he leaned back and unbuttoned his jacket.

  “Not right now. I already had one, and I don’t overindulge…” His sentence fell off into the rumblings of the crowd starting to move.

  “They opened the doors.” She looked over his shoulder, trying to find Jade.

  “Yes. We were supposed to wait a bit longer, but the crowd was too tight in the waiting area, so I had them open early.”

  “You?” She twisted her neck. Where had Jade gone off to?

  “Yes—” he reached over and captured her hand in his. “If you’re looking for Jade, don’t worry about her. Garrick is planning to take care of her tonight, so you are off the clock.”

  Her eyes snapped back to him. “Garrick? You know Garrick?” Garrick and Jade had been close friends since near childhood. Jade wouldn’t like running into him, and how did Jamison know him?

  “He and I do business together.”

  Apparently, he read minds as well as owned kinky nightclubs.

  She looked at him again, closer this time. “I think I’ve heard him mention you.”

  “I was a little surprised Jade didn’t recognize me. We’ve met a few times,” he said.

  “She’s a little preoccupied—did you say Garrick is here?” She started to stand, but Jamison tugged her back down into her seat.

  “Yes. And you’ll stay out of it.”

  And the twist in her chest began. “Oh, I will? And who exactly do you think you are to go ordering me about?”

  The corner of his mouth twisted up, and his eyes sparkled with glee.

  “Did he send you to babysit me?” Garrick would do something like that if he wanted to get Jade alone. She’d always known he was into kink, little things he said and did, but she’d never broached the subject with him.

  “Do you need a babysitter?”

  The way he said the words, the little bit of levity mixed with the heaviness of curiosity made her gulp back her initial irritation. His eyes narrowed in on her, as though taking stock of her reaction to his question, and if the slight heat of her cheeks was any indication—she had a full blush starting to take over.

  “I don’t need anything.” She gave her standard response when putting up the brick wall, but even she could hear the weakness in her tone.

  He nodded and gave a chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure you need a few things.”

  “Why is Garrick here?”

  “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s part-owner, like myself.”

  Garrick owned several properties and shares in different businesses, but she’d never heard him speak about Dark Lace before.

  “I’m not going to answer any of your questions about Garrick. You’ll have to ask him yourself. What I am going to do”—his thumb caressed her palm—“is spend as much time with you tonight as you’re okay with.”

  She swallowed. How could a finger cause so much excitement to run through her body?

  “Fair enough, I suppose. I’ll ask him tomorrow.” She pulled back, breaking the contact with him so her mind could focus more easily on the conversation. Picking up her glass, she took a sip of her Shirley Temple.

  “There’s a room back there where I generally like to play.” He looked over his shoulder then back at her.

  “You want to play?” Of course, he did. It was a fucking club, after all, and exactly why she’d shown up for the party to begin with.

  He gave another laugh. “If you’re up for it. But we have to finish our talk first.”

  “Okay.” She shrugged and took another sip of her drink. Negotiations weren’t foreign to her and meant he was a serious player. No newbie.

  “I typically play in the nursery.” The sentence dropped on the table like a bag of oranges. Her heart instantly picked up speed, and her breath hitched.

  “The nursery?” She’d seen a sign for the room the last time she’d
been at the club but hadn’t gone inside. It had been a quick visit, more to scope out the place.

  He folded his hands on the table and gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

  “You’re into age play?” She tried not to sound judgmental, or hopeful. Her desires were somewhere in that general area of play, but most men who were into that wanted more than she could give them.

  “A bit, not as seriously as most. If we play tonight, it will be in that room. Are you okay with that?”

  Not as seriously as most? Exactly how she described it to men she talked with online or when she bumped into them in the clubs, to the few she found interested in her particular brand of kink.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think I’ll start carrying around my list of limits. It would make this part less awkward.”

  He laughed. “It doesn’t have to be awkward. If we play, I won’t go any further than a bare-bottom spanking. No fucking, but if you’re a good girl, I may be nice enough to give you an orgasm. That’s all. So, no need for laundry lists of limits and wants.”

  A simple scene?

  “You don’t want to fuck me?” She clamped her mouth shut after asking that question.

  He laughed again. “Oh, little girl, I want to do way more than that, but we just met, and that’s more of a second or third date sort of question.”

  Little girl. Fuck, how that phrase made her panties wet.

  “You’ve played a lot, then?” She supposed she should ask a few questions.

  “Plenty. Yes. You?”

  “Some.” Not as much as she’d liked. She held no fairytale notions about what happened in kink relationships, so she kept most of her playtime short.

  “Hmm.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Would you like to play tonight? In the nursery?”

  Her throat dried, and she’d just swallowed the last of her drink.

  “Sure.” She did her best to sound aloof, but something in his eyes told her he could see her excitement.

  “Excellent. Then let’s have at it.” He stood and held out his hand.

  She slipped her fingers into his palm and, with gentleness that seemed contrary to the strength of his build, he held onto her and helped her from the chair. They walked from the lounge and through the nearly empty waiting area before heading down the hallway toward the nursery room.

  Right outside the room, he spun her and pushed her against the wall, bringing his face to hers, their noses touching lightly.

  “Once we are in there, if you want me to slow down, you’ll use the color system. Yellow for slow and red for stop. While I’m spanking you, I won’t stop just because you say stop. If you don’t use your colors, I will not stop. Do you understand that?”

  The intensity of his rounded eyes and his firm tone sent her heart pattering faster against her ribcage. This man would not be deterred; this man had his dominance on a solid.

  Fuck

  “Yeah.”

  He pinched her hip. “No, little girl, you won’t address me with yeah, you will answer with a yes, sir or yes, Daddy. Is that clear?”

  She swallowed. His lips were close, in kissing range, and they looked so warm, so plush and delicious. But he was talking, and she needed to pay attention.

  “Yes, sir.” She couldn’t call him the other thing. Not yet. Not when they were being so casual.

  He nodded and pulled back. “Good, then. Let’s go.”

  Gripping her hand again he pulled her into the nursery.

  No real surprises inside. A few toddler beds, two cribs against the wall. A rack with outfits stood in the far corner. In another corner stood a woman with pigtails holding up a dress, her bright red bottom displayed to the room. Her daddy stood beside her; his arms folded across his chest as he scolded her. “We were supposed to have a nice evening, and you had to go and throw a fit!”

  Carissa looked up at Jamison as he pulled them to a stop beside an arm chair.

  “Looks like someone got herself a bad-girl spanking,” he whispered into her ear then smoothed her hair away from her face. “You don’t want one of those, I promise you.”

  She’d take his word for it; though she doubted she wanted to find out for sure.

  He let go of her hand to remove his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. Once he sat with his large legs spread, he pulled her to stand between them.

  “Now, tell me. How much does this play into your daily life?” He waved his hand, indicating the room as a whole.

  “Not very much, I guess. I’ve never had a…well, been with anyone long enough to really incorporate some of this…but”—her eyes widened at the changing table where a daddy diapered his baby girl, and she shook her head—“not that.” She pointed to the couple.

  “Don’t point.” He wrapped his hand around her finger and pushed her hand to her side. “I’m glad to hear that. Much of this is more than I enjoy myself. But giving a well-deserved spanking to a girl is right up my alley.”

  She swallowed again and looked at his hands.

  “Not backing out, are you?” he chuckled. “I promise, they aren’t registered as lethal weapons or anything like that.” He splayed his hands out.

  “No.” She shook her head and played with her fingers.

  He clasped her hands to stop the fidgeting. “Remember your colors. Now, lie over my lap. I think we can have the rest of this discussion over my knee.”

  Her pussy clenched, her clit swelled at his words. What the hell would happen when he touched her?

  She managed to get over his lap without making a fool of herself, and he helped settle her backside right where he wanted it. Her cheeks warmed with his hand resting on the curve of her ass.

  “How many spankings have you received for being a bad girl, Carissa?” he asked, running his hand in a large circle over both her cheeks.

  Bad girl? Weren’t they having fun?

  “Um.”

  His hand raised and crashed down onto her bottom, making her jolt from the surprise of the impact.

  “How many bad-girl spankings have you gotten? I’d like an answer please.”

  “Three!” she answered quickly when his hand disappeared from her bottom again. The first swat had left warmth behind, and she anticipated the next to be stronger if she displeased him.

  He smacked her bottom again, a bit softer, and rubbed away the sting afterward. “Only three?” He tsked.

  Discipline hadn’t been in the forefront of any of her previous boyfriends’ minds. They liked the slap-and-tickle game but having to actually mete out a punishment didn’t excite them.

  “Yes, sir.” She gripped the chair leg after the third swat to her backside.

  He chuckled, running his hand up and down her exposed thighs. His fingers barely slid under the hem of her dress, and she mentally willed him to slide up farther.

  “Either you’re a very good girl, or you’ve been overindulged.” His palm lifted from her thighs and peppered her ass with half a dozen swats. Not overly harsh, but with enough sting to satisfy her and make her wiggle on his lap.

  “Oh!” He pinched her thigh, and she swung her hand back to protect her sensitive flesh.

  “No, no. None of that, or I’ll have to hold your arm for you and give you a naughty spanking. You don’t want one of those already, do you?”

  His voice reminded her of silken chocolate, so smooth and decadent. Her body responded to it as well. Her clit brushed his leg as she wiggled beneath the spanks and, if she didn’t control herself, she would start humping his knee like a wild beast in heat.

  “No, no, sir.” She gripped his pant leg as the spanking continued. A varied array of strong and soft swats spread out across both cheeks. He knew exactly how hard to spank in one area before moving to another. Warmth blossomed over her bottom, stealing her focus from anything else going on in the room. As far as her mind was concerned, it was only her and Jamison in the room.

  “Now, that’s a good warmup.” He patted her backside, and she looke
d over her shoulder at him with wide eyes.

  Warm up?

  “You didn’t think that was the end of it, did you, little girl?” He winked at her.

  His hands, now warm from the delivery of the spanking, slid under her skirt and pushed it up over her hips, revealing her naked bottom. The thong she’d put on had been cute, practical with the tightness of the skirt so as not to show panty lines. Lots of guys loved a sexy thong, but the tsk of his tongue suggested he was not among them.

  “A thong.” He pulled up the string nestled between her cheeks and let it snap back into place. “Little girls shouldn’t wear such clothing.” He patted her right butt cheek. “Your bottom is already a pretty pink.” His hands roamed again over her cheeks while his free hand rested on her back. “I think my little girl can take a bit more from me tonight. What do you think?”

  His little girl? She didn’t hate the sound of that.

  “Yes…sir.” The word, the title that would make the moment that much more perfect stayed lodged in her throat.

  When his hand made contact with her bare bottom, she jumped, the sting much sharper than before. Despite it being December in Chicago, she’d worn a thin dress. It offered little protection. His hard hand on her exposed bottom shouldn’t feel much harder than with the flimsy material protecting her. Another swat, and she jumped again. More heat spread, and he continued to rain down fire across her bottom.

  She wiggled and kicked her ankles, both of which he stilled by hugging her closer to his body and wrapping one leg around both of hers.

  “Oh! Ow!” She covered her bottom momentarily but quickly moved her hand out of the way, sure he wouldn’t hesitate to go harder on her if he felt the need.

  As much as her bottom throbbed, her clit reacted in kind. The wiggling only made her need worse, and the pressure built in her lower belly as she ached for release.

  “That’s a good girl. Almost finished.” He dragged his nails across her sore backside, making her hiss.

  “Yes, sir.” The tingling and soaring sensation of each smartly delivered smack coursed through her body, lifting her up onto a new plane of pleasure.

  “There we are.” He dug his nails into her again, and she sighed, resting her head against his calf. “You did so good. And good girls get very good rewards.” He moved his leg from trapping her and pushed her outer thigh away. “Open your legs for me, Carissa. Let me get to your sweetness. You need a release and have earned it.”