Bad Boy Dom (15 page)

I pulled her into my arms before taking
the towel Wade quickly offered. Moving her away, I led her to a far corner
beneath the uncovered rafters of wires and cables. Her lips trembled just
before I covered her mouth with mine. I lifted the towel from my neck and
looped it over her head pulling her body closer to my bare chest. She smelled
fresh and clean and I knew it was unfair to soil her shirt with my
still-dripping body, but I didn’t care.

With a will of iron, I managed to pull
back. “How are you?”

Instead of meeting my eyes, she looked
down.

“I’m okay.”

I held my frustration back but couldn’t
help letting her know she lied. “That strap will redden your ass sooner than
later. Now give me the truth.”

She hesitated. Damn, I didn’t want her
choosing her words. “I’m overwhelmed.”

It could be a compliment but I didn’t
think so.

“Hey guys, we’re supposed to meet the
winners of the backstage passes. Save the lovey dovey shit for later.”

“You’re not invited back to the house
tonight.” I finally peeled my eyes from the top of her head and looked at Matt.

“Bullshit. It’s tradition and would jinx
us for life.”

“I’m willing to risk it. I’ll be over in
a moment.”

“Yes, boss.”

“I’m not letting go of you again. The
meet and greet is easy, getting outside to the car is always tricky but I’ve
got you.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

I moved her to my left so I could shake
hands and keep my hold tight. Something was wrong but we would deal with it
later. I knew my life was chaotic, but she handled herself better than Lydia
gave her credit for. Her fingers still trembled but I would fix things when we
got home.

The guys were reading Angela’s mood and
pitched in to run complete interference when we ran for the car. Protective
mode strikes again. We all piled into my limo for the ride home, another
tradition.

Matt and Stephon had a young blonde
sitting between them. She’d visited before and would relieve their post-show
sexual insanity when they finally went home. Those two needed to settle down
with a woman who could handle the double duo. My own life brought matchmaking
to the forefront of my mind and made me laugh. There
was
a woman out
there that could handle them.

When the limo stopped in front of my
home, we piled out and the mad dash for the pool ensued. Clothes flew and I
caught the first smile from Angela as I dragged her along.

“You don’t have to skinny dip if you
don’t want to,” I grinned at her, “but the water helps relax us.”

Her shirt came over her head. I was
definitely not letting her out of my sight.

“Last one in has the smallest dick!” One
of the guys yelled and cannonballed into the water with a splash.

I was the last one in.

Wade got out first and ordered pizza. We
all dripped inside after it was delivered. The crew kept extra clothes here and
pulled on shorts but remained mostly bare-chested.

We sat on the floor and couches, chowing
down, and drinking water and cola. The days of post-show drug and alcohol
delirium were far behind us and it felt good.

I grabbed my guitar, then sat back down
on the floor and scooted between Angela’s thighs. Leaning my head back, I
looked into her sad smile where she sat perched above me on the couch. “Name a
song.”

For the first time that night, her eyes
twinkled. “’Because of You.’ Tony’s version”

It took me a moment and I saw the
stumped look on the guy’s faces but my memory traveled from my brain through my
fingers and hit the right chords. I may have missed a word or two but the
intent was clear. “Because of you, there’s a song in my heart.”

I finished the last note and looked back
up to catch on lone tear make its way down her cheek.

“Booooo!” this came from Stephon, “She
can’t possibly like that shit. I’m grabbing my guitar and playing some real
music.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but what’s his idea
of real music?” She tried to hide her watery eyes but I knew.

“Anything with a cuss word. Can you take
another hour before they leave?”

“Yes.”

It took an hour and a half. Funny how
senseless music brought us down from our music high.

“Time to go, fellas.”

Matt and Stephon had their own woman for
the night and they didn’t argue. The rest offered good-natured sexual innuendos
but quickly left.

“Upstairs to bed.”

Her look of disappointment was
priceless. I owed her a spanking but I decided having her hot delectable ass
beneath my hand was better than any strap. I needed answers.

I removed her clothes one piece at a
time. Then sat on the bed, bringing her down over my lap without a word. Her
luscious ass wiggled over my lap but she stayed silent, waiting for my palm to
land.

“I want to talk.”

Her head whipped around. “Talk?”

“Yes, talk. Something’s wrong.”

“What?”

“That’s what I want you to tell me.” My
hand traveled over her ass, spreading her thighs so I had better access to her
sweet pussy.

“I’m just overwhelmed.”

My hand came down, once. “I don’t like
that word.”

Her breath came out in a small gasp. I
had no intention of giving her what she really wanted unless she came clean. My
hand made small circles on her ass cheek, which now displayed a single
handprint.

“I was uncomfortable while you played.”

Another quick slap; no harder, no
softer. “Hmm, still not good enough.” She wiggled some more. “Stay still.”

This time it was a huff of air that left
her lungs.

“You seem to have a problem with
honesty, and for D/s relationships to work, it’s more important than anything
else. Try again.”

My hand smoothed over her flesh again. I
wanted to pinch the redness my last slap left behind but I knew she’d enjoy it.
Which wasn’t in my plans.

“Fuck.” Her anger was apparent. “Please,
just fuck me, Sir.”

“No, because that’s what
you
want. I want the truth. Try again, minus the potty mouth.” My hand continued
its slow gentle persuasion.

Silence.

I waited, calmly circling her luscious,
round derriere.

She huffed once and then went quiet
again.

I could stay like this all night.

“I’m fucked up,” she said. “Really, I
am.”

Five quick, hard, rapid spanks.

“Awww!”

“Better?”

“No.”

“Well, then keep talking.”

Her tears started and my hand moved from
her ass to run over her back. I let her cry.

“You don’t understand!”

“No, maybe not. But I want to.”

“I won’t fit in your world.” Her breaths
were coming in fast gasps.

“You’ll fit.”

“No, Krispin, I won’t.”

“So tell me why?”

“I’m a mental case.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “You’ve met my
friends. You think I care?”

“I take drugs to keep me sane.” There
was anger in her voice now.

Six this time, three on each cheek.

“I hate you.”

“No, I think you love me but it scares
you.”

“No, it terrifies me.”

Six more.

“God, would you just fuck me, please?”

“I don’t think so. You’re finally
talking.”

“I hate you!” She slapped the bed with
the palms of her hands this time, and her feet jerked as if she wanted to throw
a full-out tantrum. “I so fuckin’ hate you right now!”

“You need to broaden your speech
capabilities.”

“Fuck you!”

I just kept making slow steady circles
with my hand.

She let loose another huff of air. “I’m
not normal!”

“Neither am I.”

“You’re
weird
,” she said. “But I
go crazy.”

“We’re all crazy.” My hand landed twice.

“Not off the deep-end crazy like me.”

“I’ve seen your ‘off the deep-end crazy’
and it scared the shit out of me, but I’m still here.”

“Please, Krispin, just fuck me.”

“I plan on it, but only after our
conversation is finished.”

“It… won’t… work.” Huge, gulping
tear-filled breaths accompanied her words.

I turned her over so I could look into
her face.

“It will work,” I said firmly, cupping
her wet cheek with my palm. “We’ll make it work.”

“No! Nothing in my life works! Only the
constant of the club, and even then, not all the time.”

“I’m your constant now.”

“Your life is crazy.”

“Yep. But I love you. I just need to
know if you love me.”

Her soft hair floated down against my
chest as her body turned to liquid and slumped against me.

“I love the way you smell,” I said,
romancing her with my voice as I picked up a piece of her hair and ran in under
my nose. “I love the way you fuck me.”

She giggled; that was good.

“I love the way you walk,” I continued,
“and watching your ass sway makes me hard.”

“You’re weird.”

“Only to you.” I tugged her hair, making
her look at me. “Do you love me?”

She tried to turn away but I held tight.
“If you don’t, I’ll just work harder until you do.” I lifted my other hand and
wiped the tears that began falling again. “We need each other.”

“Krispin….”

“And I love the way you say my name.”

“Sir.”

“That name, too. I need a favor from
you.”

“If I give it, will you fuck me?”

“Oh, you’re getting fucked, regardless.”

“Promise?”

“Favor?”

“What’s the favor?”

“I need you to go somewhere with me
tomorrow.”

“Where?”

“I’m not telling you, I just need you
with me.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.” And with no further
discussion, I fucked her long into the night.

Chapter Twenty-four

Angela…

I felt thoroughly sore, lovingly-fucked,
and completely miserable. So many people believed in me but the one person who
mattered most thought I was a lost cause. That one person wasn’t Lydia, Damian,
or Krispin, it was me.
They
seemed willing to sail me over the rising
waves but the sea of depression had a way of slithering back into my life. It
always did.

I lay in Krispin’s bed, watching the
rise and fall of his chest until finally, I couldn’t take any more, and
feathered my hand across his sculpted torso, traveling the lines of muscle
until I reached his nipple. His breathing stopped for a moment and I knew he
was awake but he let me continue my quest.

I brought my mouth to the small,
stiffened peak, and swirled my tongue, gently sucking the bud between my lips.
When he finally moved, it was quick and I couldn’t help my squeal of surprise.
In half a blink, I was lying beneath him and his forehead dipped down to rest
against mine.

“I love you.”

“Please, Sir, will you do something
about it?”

“No, because we have an appointment and
slept in too long.”

I didn’t have time to complain before he
jumped from the bed and then lifted me into his arms. He dumped me in the
shower after adjusting the water but only joined me to wash us both quickly and
efficiently. He gave me five minutes to do something with my hair and get
dressed. While I stood in the bathroom applying a small amount of makeup, I
heard his low murmur while he spoke on his cell phone but I couldn’t hear what
he said.

Wade drove us again but this time when
we pulled into a parking lot of an older rundown section of LA, he got out and followed
us. Krispin kept a tight hold on my hand as a crowd of about fifty people,
mostly men, met us as we rounded the corner. They stood in small groups and
smoked cigarettes like it was saving their lungs instead of destroying them. A
few greeted Krispin by name but most ignored us. We entered the building
through a single door to find more people milling around. There were
approximately one-hundred metal folding chairs set up, facing forward in the
stark unadorned room. The air carried the smell of cigarettes even though no
one smoked inside.

Small pieces of paper, a few baseball
caps like Krispin’s, and even a plastic fork marked the reserved chairs. Krispin
led us to a large metal coffee urn and poured us some of the dark potent
smelling liquid. I nodded yes when he asked if I wanted cream and sugar. Even
diluted it tasted strong and bitter. Almost everyone in the room had a small
white cup, water bottle, or can of soda.