Poker Posse 1: Looking at Rose (13 page)

Ari rolled her eyes and frowned. “No. He most definitely did not.”

“Did he find out before or after the two of you did it?”

“After.”

“Oh.” Based on Ari’s expression, Rose wished she’d been a fly on the wall during that discussion. “Is that why you can’t sit down without it hurting?”

“Day before yesterday, yes, but not today.”

That would mean… “You’ve gone back?”

The gleam in Ari’s eyes and the broad smile lighting her face was all the answer Rose needed, but Ari was happy to expand. “Oh my, yes. Every night since. I’ll be going back tonight.”

“And you’ve—”

Ari released a low throaty laugh that sounded just like her mother’s. “Humped like bunnies, Rose. If I had known how wonderful it was, I would have approached Master Damian when I first saw him.”

“First saw him? You mean when you first started going to the Omen?”

A somber look crossed Ari’s face, and she shook her head. She seemed to chew on an idea for several long silent minutes before she spoke. “I’ve known for a long time, before the Omen opened that Master Damian is my one.”

“Your one?” Rose’s heart sped up. She’d thought the same thing, that Ibraham was the
One
—capital
O
and in italics. Then the rest of Ari’s remark registered. “Whoa. What do you mean ‘before the Omen opened’?”

“I knew of him before I came back to Magnolia.” Ari smiled, her expression a blend of amusement and deep-down satisfaction. “Remember when I was working in that clinic in Florida? Before Mama broke her hip and the clinic shut down?”

“Yes.”

“One of the nurses took me to a club near Tampa. Introduced me to the scene. Master Damian was there. I could never get the nerve up to play. He taught and gave demonstrations for the club, just like he does at the Omen.”

“Did you talk to him?”

Ari shook her head and pushed a loose curl behind her ear. “I watched him but never had the nerve to approach him. Then one night, I was there with my friend, and this man stepped up behind me and took my glass out of my hand just after I’d taken a drink.”

“Master Damian?”

Ari nodded. “He held it up to the light and I could see a small tablet dissolving in the bottom of the glass. ‘Your friend dropped it in there when you weren’t looking,’ he said. And the nurse, who I thought was my friend, shrugged. ‘I thought it’d loosen you up.’”

“Ari, that’s horrible. How could she do something like that?”

Ari shook her head. “I didn’t bother asking. Master Damian took me home and made sure I was safe before he left.”

“Did you go back to the club? Talk to him? Anything?”

“The next morning the hospital called me about Mama’s accident, and I left. I didn’t talk to anyone.”

Rose’s mind spun through the wild coincidence that drew Master Damian to Georgia, and Ari’s rediscovery of him. “That’s when you started writing the kinky stuff, isn’t it? I know you were always writing stories when we were kids, but Master Damian is the reason you started writing the erotic romances, isn’t he?”

Ari shrugged. “Maybe. But I know there isn’t anyone else I’d trust the way I trust him.” She peeked around the corner toward the front of the shop before she slipped the light cardigan she was wearing off her shoulders and turned her back to Rose.

The halter-style dress left Ari’s shoulders and back bare to her waist. Rose couldn’t stifle her gasp when she saw the round bee-sting-like marks and red welts that stood out against the creamy smoothness of Ari’s skin. The marks decorated her upper back from her neck to just below her shoulder blades.

Ari grinned over her shoulder at Rose. “Aren’t they pretty?” When she caught sight of Rose’s expression though, the smile fell and she hurriedly covered her back and sat down. “Rose?”

Rose’s mind spun with thoughts and worries, but she cobbled together enough sense to respond to Ari. “I…I don’t know what to say, Ari.”

Cool hands settled over hers, and Ari smiled, that sweet Madonna-like smile. “It’s okay, Rose. I’m sorry I didn’t think before I showed you.”

“He hurt you.”

Ari nodded, and her fingers tightened over Rose’s. “Yes, but I wanted him to.”

Rose shook her head. “Was it because he was angry? Did you do something wrong?”

Ari sighed. “No. Master Damian wasn’t angry. He’d never hit me in anger. And I didn’t do anything wrong. I like pain, Rose. I’ve always liked pain. When Master Damian uses his whips on me, I feel free. My thoughts melt away. I don’t need to plan what I should say or how I should act or even whether or not Mama’s gonna be bringing home a gentleman. There’s just the sting of the whip and my breath. And my Master.”

She searched her friend’s gaze until Rose was sure Ari wasn’t lying, but the idea of pain bringing pleasure simply didn’t make sense.

Ari recognized her confusion. “You know how you love lemon cake and key lime pie?”

Rose nodded. “And you prefer chocolate cake with a pinch of chili powder or cayenne in it.”

“Exactly. We have different tastes, Rose. My enjoying pain is like that. A different taste.”

The comment Ibraham had made about giving his lovers pain sent a shiver down Rose’s spine.

Perceptive as ever, Ari picked up on that disquiet. “Are you afraid Master V will ask you to do something you don’t like or don’t want?”

Rose shrugged, disturbed by the mixed feelings coursing through her at the thought that Ibraham would make her endure a whipping. On one hand the idea that he would take a whip to her turned her stomach, but on the other hand, the image of relinquishing control to him was very appealing. It didn’t make sense, but at the same time, it did. Rose was more confused than ever. “I’m as clear as mud on what will and won’t happen, Ari. I’ve read your books, and I know that the dominant can suggest and push a submissive to try new things as a means of learning what does and doesn’t appeal to her, but at the same time I know that’s fiction.” She didn’t mention Ibraham’s patience in guiding her through how to find pleasure with her body and how to please him.

Ari agreed. “Yes. It is fiction. It’s the world I created in my head. But, Rose, I did my homework. I’ve done my research. Every relationship, vanilla or kink, is different, and it’s what the couple involved in the relationship make it. If you get off on smearing Master V from head to toe in your decadent double-fudge frosting and licking it off, then that’s your limit. You set where and what you will go and do. Ibraham is your guide. He can make suggestions and give you samples, but you have the right to say no. If he wants to paddle you for fun and you don’t want it, you use your safe word. If you want him to put you in his cage so you can entertain the crowd at the Omen by humping his brains out, you have the right to broach that request to him.”

Rose grinned at the visuals filling her mind about Ibraham’s cage and all the fun they could have in it. The thought of being the center of attention at the club made her skin tingle in the same arousing way Ibraham’s touch made her feel. “So, I say the safe word, and everything stops.”

“Yes, Rose. Everything stops, and we talk.”

Ibraham’s voice made both women jump. Rose swung around to see him leaning in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, the white shirt and gray trousers looking crisp and fresh. She and Ari had been so involved in their discussion that neither of them heard the bell over the door.

He looked past her to Ari and added, “Tell her why you can’t sit still today.”

Ari groaned; heat filled her cheeks, and she confessed, “I didn’t safe word out last night. Master Damian stopped before I wanted him to.”

Rose looked from Ari’s disgruntled expression to Ibraham’s impassive one. “You were there?”

Ibraham nodded. “I help as a monitor twice a week if I’m not asked to demonstrate. Your friend was particularly bratty when Master Damian refused to continue. She was quite vocally opposed to my suggestion on how he should punish her.”

Ari didn’t say anything, but Rose recognized the mutinous expression on her friend’s face. The talk with Ari had helped solidify Rose’s decision. It only remained for her to inform Ibraham of her choice. She motioned him out of the cramped work area and back toward the front of the store.

By the time they reached the counter, she knew the choice she was about to make was the right one, for her. She didn’t beat around the bush or put it in flowery language. Rose simply took a deep breath and said, “I want to be your sub.”

Ibraham watched her, his gaze measuring and probing as if trying to read her thoughts. Finally he nodded. “Come upstairs at six. We’ll have dinner and talk.”

“I’ll bring dessert.”

Leaning forward, Ibraham wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She could feel the thick ridge of his arousal through their clothes even as his lips settled over hers for a quick kiss that left her wanting more.

He squeezed her bottom before he pulled away. “Mmm, yes, you’ll be dessert.”

Rose’s breath caught in her lungs, but she didn’t complain.

* * * *

Ibraham spent the hours after leaving Rose’s shop anticipating the night ahead. It was clear she’d made her decision, and it was one favorable to him and his lifestyle. The thought, though, of being Rose’s only lover was a bit daunting. He’d always been very careful to steer away from virgins when finding partners, primarily because of the appetites he had for exhibitionism and bondage. Even his own first experience with sex had been with a girl two years older than him who’d already experimented with other partners.

Before his thoughts could tangle his plans up more than they already had, a shadow fell across his desk. He looked up and greeted his uncle. “I was wondering if you were going to visit me.” Ibraham easily slipped into the Slovak language of his childhood.

Vladamir arched a brow and replied, “Oh, and how did you know I was in town?”

Having seen Viola with his father’s best friend, Ibraham had to wonder if there were some secrets Rose didn’t know about her mother. Not to mention things he didn’t know about his own family. “I saw you at the Omen a few nights ago. With a very nice lady in blue.”

A low chuckle rife with emotion and sex filled the room. Vladamir settled onto the chair opposite Ibraham’s desk. “Ah, you saw my mouse.”

The nickname rang a bell but only vaguely. His uncle, not by blood but via the close friendship with Ibraham’s father, had always vexed Ibraham’s mother by refusing every woman she tried to introduce Vladamir to. “Your mouse?”

An expression eased the lines of age in Vladamir’s face. It was a blend of peace and satisfaction with just a hint of annoyance as he nodded. “Yes. Mine. She is fighting it now, but I have not waited nearly thirty years to let her skitter away a second time. But I am not here to talk about my woman. Your father tells me you have refused Anjelia.”

Ibraham rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Mama has started.”

“Hmm. Your thirtieth birthday was—”

“Three months ago. She has sent three different women in the last year. Anjelia was the latest.”

“You do not wish to marry?”

An image of Rose in a white gown and coming toward him down the aisle of a church formed easily in his head. More importantly, there was no fear or uncertainty that accompanied the vision. “No. I do not wish to marry the women my mother is choosing.”

The left side of Vladamir’s lips kicked up in a smirk. “You have another woman in mind?”

Ibraham started to nod, but the unease he’d been wrestling with returned. “I do, but…”

His uncle waited his gaze somber, no longer amused.

“She isn’t in the lifestyle.”

Vladamir sighed. “Ah, that can be a problem.”

When his father wasn’t available, Vladamir had always been the one Ibraham could confide in. In many instances, Vladamir had helped him work through issues before he took them to his father, especially those things that Ibraham and his father didn’t see eye to eye on. Ibraham lowered his voice. “It’s not just my lifestyle, Uncle.”

“She does not approve of it?”

“No. I’m concerned.” He tried again. “I think her inexperience and what her body wants is driving her more than her rational mind.”

Vladamir took his time digesting what Ibraham had left unspoken before he answered. “You think because this woman has been with very few lovers before you she will be inclined to simply follow your lifestyle to keep having great sex?”

Put so bluntly, Ibraham couldn’t help but chuckle at the egoism reflected in the comment. “Until you said it that way, yes, that was my fear.”

Vladamir snorted and leaned back in his seat. “Is this a girl? Barely legal age?”

“No. She is twenty-six.”

“And is she deformed in some way? Difficult to look at? Ugly?”

Irritation surfaced and was clear in his response. “No. Rose is a beautiful woman. Bright blue eyes, black hair.”

“Then what makes you think you are the only man she’s received an offer for a sexual relationship from? What makes you believe she doesn’t know her own mind? Doesn’t know what pleases her?”

“She’s a virgin, Uncle.”

“Which means she’s a woman of discriminating tastes. She does not open her legs to any man who wants to play. She knows her worth and respects it. As should you.” A bleak look filled his uncle’s gaze. “My mouse was an innocent. I did not think she belonged in the club where I found her, but I wasted no time claiming her for my own.” Vladamir shook his head. “I was a fool. Thinking as you do. That she was overwhelmed by my expertise, by the things I taught her. That I could easily direct her. I was wrong, and I lost her.”

“Rose is not only new to the scene, but new to sex. I think it would be too much for her to handle.” Considering the thinly disguised threat he’d received from Boudreaux, Ibraham wondered, despite Rose’s assurances that they hadn’t, if her male friends had something to do with her virgin status. Had their reputations run any potential lovers off even after they left town? Knowing his Rose, she didn’t see the value she held in her friends’ lives. They considered her as precious as their own sisters and worth protecting even from halfway around the world. Which made him question if the crux of his dilemma wasn’t that she’d never had a lover, but what price he’d be willing to pay to be her only lover?