A Betty's Pledge: Volume One (34 page)

“Oh,” Diane replied, a sly smile curing her luscious lips. Her reaction made me want
to growl in protest. “You’re meeting up with Wilson again.” It wasn’t stated as a
question, and when I glanced up, Diane was wagging her eyebrows suggestively, channeling
Nate’s carefree and horribly inappropriate personality. It was oddly funny, and I
couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped.

“You look like your boyfriend when you do that,” I said snarkily, amused when she
stood up and had the nerve to look offended.

“Whatever. I came in here to help you for your night and I get insulted.”

“He’s your boyfriend.” I laughed. “Some traits of his are bound to rub off on you.”

“I’d rather it be something more endearing rather than crude.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“On him, maybe. On me, now that’s just unladylike.”

I snorted, not wanting to remind her that she was a Dame in a sex club. If she wanted
to be a lady, perhaps she needed to find a different form of employment.

“This one,” she declared a moment later, holding up a see-through, white teddy with
matching stockings and garter belt.

“It doesn’t leave much to the imagination,” I mused, looking at the scary piece of
lace with trepidation. Diane rolled her eyes, turning toward my closet and leaving
me pondering what the hell she was up to. She came out moments later, her arms full
of clothing.

She tossed her findings on the bed, pulling items apart and arranging them into carefully
coordinated outfits. I stood up, watching her closely, trying to figure out her thought
process.

“I don’t think you get what tonight is about,” I told her, watching as she put a pantsuit
together. The bottoms were pinstriped and just so happened to fit me like a glove.
I’d tried them on once before and loved how they made my ass look. The matching white
shirt was a mix between professional vixen and hot schoolteacher. It was white, low
cut button-up, mostly see-through, but something I could totally get away with if
I wore it in public. Most likely it was meant to have some sort of camisole under
it, but Diane hadn’t set one out. She left the suit jacket off to the side, leaving
the bare minimum. When she was done, she turned toward me, a triumphant smile on her
face.

“Umm . . .”

“You don’t like it?”

“I love it. I just don’t know if it fits the theme.”

“Did he tell you what to wear?” I shook my head in response. “Then this is perfect!”

“How is a suit appropriate? I’m going to fuck the man, not apply for a job.”

Diane rolled her eyes, reaching for the items as she muttered something that sounded
a lot like ‘crude harpy’ under her breath.

“It’s a challenge, right? You have to make him desperate for you. Turn the tables?”

“How did you know that?” I knew damn well I hadn’t whispered a word of my confrontation-slash-ridiculous-challenge
to Diane.

“Nate.” My Dame shrugged and rolling her eyes like it had been an obvious answer.

“How did he—”

“Look, you don’t have much time,” Diane snapped, not allowing my mind to ponder long
on the implication. “Do you want my help or not?”

I looked at her, frowning. The smart-ass, hard as nails Dame I’d met from the party
was making a reappearance. I nodded, not wanting to speak to her at the moment in
fear I’d snap right back at her. She took a deep breath, sitting on the bed with a
sheepish look crossing her face.

“I’m sorry, Mady. I just want this to work out for you.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” This certainly wasn’t something to fight with her about,
I knew that much for sure.

“It is, more than you know.”

I couldn’t help but notice that she wouldn’t meet my eye.

“I’m pretty sure that once the clothes come off, it won’t matter what I had on. I’m
making a bigger problem out of this than is needed, really.”

Diane turned to me, holding out her hand for me to sit down next to her. I moved some
of the clothing over a bit to make room.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I watched your trial,” she admitted, and I felt my face flush at the reminder of
what I was asked to do. It wasn’t that I had to do it, it was the fact that I’d been
observed by multiple people that had me reddening in embarrassment. Again.

“No, don’t be embarrassed. You were beautiful. But I think the most appealing thing
to me was how absolutely confident you were with yourself. You didn’t resort to risqué
clothing or items to help you get off. It was you and your skin, that’s it.”

“What does that have to do with tonight?” I was curious where she was going with this,
and my anxiety level jumped up a notch or two.

“I think that if you went in there, covered from head to foot, leaving as much to
his imagination as possible, you’d have him like putty in your hands.”

I smiled, looking back at the outfit she’d laid out for me.

“What about the lace teddy?”

“Well . . .” Diane sighed, reaching for the object in question. “This will just make
him drool once he gets the covers off. Adds to his sexual frustration once he sees
there’s another layer to remove.”

“Diabolical.” I laughed.

“You better believe it.”

In the next hour and a half, I’d been showered, shaved, buffed, powdered, and creamed.

Preparing for an all-out sexual war happened to be tough business, and since our waxing
appointment wasn’t until the following week, my evil yet completely competent Dame
had coaxed me into letting her wax me herself, based on the fact that she’d seen all
my girlie bits up close and personal already. I didn’t care, as long as I was adequately
smooth I would be a happy kitten.

Literally.

But now, standing just inside the silent Green Room, watching Isaac lean against the
brick fireplace with a snifter of brandy in his hand, looking ominous and brooding,
I felt perhaps my hard work had been all for naught.

“Hi,” I said in a hushed tone, feeling a little out of place. As of that moment, he
had yet to acknowledge my presence.

I noticed he wore the same outfit I’d seen him in earlier: dark denim jeans, black
button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows showing off his toned
forearms. He didn’t look up at me, just remained staring unseeingly into the fire.

“Am I early?” My words came out in an uncomfortable chuckle. The soft click of my
ridiculously expensive, six-inch white and black heels clicked on the hardwood flooring
as I took a tentative step closer. He didn’t move, didn’t react and I suddenly found
myself feeling like my presence was unwanted.

“I owe you an apology,” he muttered toward the fire, his lack of response to my question
making me even more anxious.

“For what?”

Finally lifting his head, he met my worried gaze before his eyes traveled all over
my body. He took in my attire and I felt pathetic and inadequate, completely out of
place. In that moment, I was extremely grateful I hadn’t worn anything more revealing.
If he didn’t want me, I was sure that standing in front of him in nothing but the
lace teddy would have added a couple of notches to the awkward meter.

“It wasn’t fair of me to listen in on your conversation.” He pushed off the fireplace
and took a sip of his brandy. God, he looked good, in that James Dean, brooding kind
of way. His dark lines and smooth movements made me heat up inside. I wanted him.

“Don’t worry about it. I should’ve known better. In this place, there’s always someone
watching, or that’s what I’ve been told.”

I didn’t miss the small glance Isaac made to the large gilded mirror above the four-poster
bed, although he tried to cover it up by turning to place his drink down in that line
of sight. I watched his posture stiffen slightly as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You don’t look like you’re up for this tonight,” I told him, figuring it was best
to lay out all our cards. “We could call it off. No hard feelings.”

“No . . . no. It’s just . . . I feel like I’m doing you a disservice, fucking you
like I have.”

Shocked and a little taken aback, my eyes narrowed. A disservice? Really?

“You’re not, believe me.”

“I am.” He turned to sit on the edge of the bed, looking like he was contemplating
the end of his life or some shit. I didn’t get it, but I didn’t interrupt, waiting
for him to explain himself. I couldn’t help but be lost in how magnificently delicious
he looked in his heated conflict, pacing before me, resembling a caged tiger, all
silken lines and hard muscle.

“This isn’t supposed to be about just sharing our bodies with each other. It shouldn’t
be, anyway.”

“What else should it be about?”

“I don’t want to use you.” Isaac studied me, his eyes full of an unknown emotion that
almost resembled fear. Perhaps he was afraid of rejection, of failing the challenge
we’d made. It wasn’t that big of a deal to me, but it seemed to really bother him.

“You’re not using me, Isaac. We’re learning from each other.”

“Learning . . .” He scoffed the word, letting his voice trail off like he’d spoken
a curse.

“Yes. Isn’t that the purpose of the club? It’s why you joined, right? To find and
explore the different avenues our bodies could take us and how to find the greatest
pleasure? Believe me, I had a hard time working through the rationale myself, but
once you take out the emotion—”

“But that’s it, Mady.” He stood from the bed and towered over me as a torment of conflicting
expressions clouded his face. “The emotion is there regardless. It’s a complete straw
man.”

“Straw man?”

“Shouldn’t emotion be involved when two people are joined in such an intimate way?
Shouldn’t there be more to it than just two sweaty bodies, meeting and forging, pumping
and devouring?”

“You lost me at sweaty bodies.”

“Be serious, Mady.”

I stood up from the bed and put my hands on my hips. I could tell this sex-filled
night was screwed six ways to shit, and not in a good way. Opting for humor to save
face, I decided to give him a hard time, rather than think about what he was saying.

“I’m sorry, Isaac. I just don’t get why you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Oh no, I can tell you’re totally chilled out. Look, if you don’t want to do this
tonight, there’s no problem. I shouldn’t have pushed you like I did.”

“Pushed me?”

“Well, it seems you are having a little”—I cleared my throat—“anxiety about tonight.
You don’t have to let me fuck you, Wilson. I’m sure I could find another way to pass
my time.”

“Mady . . .”

“Don’t
Mady
me, Wilson. I come in here, dripping wet, willing to hump you into oblivion, and
you decide to play philosopher. Excuse me if I’m a little snarky.”

Isaac took two quick steps toward me, his body up against mine before I could take
a breath.

“I’m only concerned about you!”

“Don’t be. I’m a big girl. I know what I signed up for.”

“You don’t have a fucking clue.”

“Really? Enlighten me, then.”

“It’s not good for you.”

“I think I can tell what’s good for me.”

And then I was kissing him. His lips on mine were demanding and urgent. His hands
explored, desperate to find what he was searching for. I felt just as wanton, just
as overtaken by him. His smell . . . his body . . . his sexual hunger awakened every
single cell inside me.

“Is this how it’s going to be between us?” I asked against his jaw, my hands working
frantically to rid him of his buttoned shirt. “A game? Who can make who come first?”

“See, that’s your problem.” He grabbed the hem of my shirt out of my pants and whipped
it over my head, taking one of my earrings off with it. “You think of your body as
a means to an end.”

“No, I don’t!” I took his earlobe into my mouth.

“Ugh . . . yes you do. That’s been your MO for years.”

“Explain,” I demanded on a moan, the heady sound inspired by his warm hands running
up my ribcage, heading toward my swollen, lace-covered breasts.

“There’s no feelings,” he said, bending me back slightly so he could get a better
view of my body. “God, Mady. What are you wearing?”

His lips found my collarbone on a sigh, his teeth teasing, his lips tasting as his
hands roamed the white teddy. I could feel the warmth of his skin through the minuscule
lace, and a huge part of me wished I’d just gone bare beneath my librarian suit. Quicker
access, and all that.

“No, I want to see you,” I said on a suppressed moan when Isaac tried to lead me to
the bed. His body tensed, the muscles of his revealed chest and abdomen hardening
as my hands explored down his torso, edging toward the bulge in his pants. “Now, you
see? I think I have plenty of feelings when I’m with you.”

I gripped him through his pants, making him moan.