She's All Tied Up: Club 3, Book 2 (14 page)

BOOK: She's All Tied Up: Club 3, Book 2
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She pictured Monica shopping instead for vinyl fetish wear at Kiss Me, Kink Me. Then donning it and kneeling at Jake’s feet, begging for him to do her, but he just shook his head, scowling in disgust. Yeah, and then he beckoned to Carlie with that little smile in his eyes, and she stepped right over Monica and walked away with him, leaving the receptionist and would-be sub throwing a tantrum on the floor, kicking her skinny little arms and legs.

With a smile, Carlie sauntered into the small office kitchen, took a bottle of unsweetened iced tea from the fridge, then took it to her desk and ate her sandwich, chewing slowly and enjoying the flavors of chipotle mayo, turkey, paper-thin provolone, lettuce and tomato piled into a sourdough bun. The veggies were cucumber and sugar snap pea pods, her favorite. Some of the kettle potato chips that had been offered would be tasty, but since they weren’t right in front of her, she was not tempted to go in search of them.

A single See’s chili-chocolate truffle from the stash in her bottom desk drawer, and she was ready for the afternoon. Screw size three, and screw Tiffany
and
Monica; she was healthy and happy.

And she’d keep telling herself that until she believed it.

 

 

When Daisy invited her to come downtown for a light supper at Dragonwell, Carlie looked forward to
Asian food and time with her friend in one of her favorite places, downtown Portland. She wore one of her favorite sundresses, a boat-neck shift in pale blush pink with olive-green leaves patterning the fabric, olive sandals and a pink leather slouch bag. Daisy wore a black tank and white capris, with a red slouch bag and sandals, sunglasses perched on her short blonde hair.

But having fielded a phone message from her mother while she waited, the weight of sadness and self-doubt had once again settled on Carlie’s shoulders. She sat up straight in her chair, sucking in her tummy but feeling fat anyway.

As always, Daisy’s sunny smile and warm hug made her feel better, but when they’d ordered and had plates of exquisite sushi rolls and hot appetizers in front of them, Carlie pushed her food around on her plate and watched Daisy eat. Carlie looked away, unable to bear the sight of her friend’s lovely, trim figure.

“What’s wrong?” The soft question was followed by Daisy leaning over their tiny table, her hand on Carlie’s arm. She peered into Carlie’s face. “You’re not eating, and this is your favorite place. Spill it, girlfriend.”

Daisy was right; Dragonwell was her favorite. She loved the beautifully arranged food, the piquant flavors and the small portions, so she could try lots of different tastes without being tempted to pig out.

Carlie took a shaky breath and started to blame it on the summer heat, but instead found herself pouring out her mother’s news about Seth and Tiffany’s wedding and the bridesmaid gown. She hadn’t meant to share this, feeling it was whiny, immature, and her friends were already supporting her through her entry into kink. But Daisy had a way of pulling information out of her.

As expected, Daisy went ballistic. “That bitch,” she breathed. “I will…take…her…
down
.”

Carlie snorted, amused in spite of her misery. “Been reading motorcycle-chick romances again?”

“I’m serious. No one talks to my best friend that way. Give me your phone—I’m calling her right now.”

Carlie fended off Daisy’s efforts to grab her bag, hanging from her chair. “No,” she said, but she was laughing now. “That would just make it worse.”

Daisy sat back, but she did it with her hands on her hips. “I guess. Anyway, it’s
not true
, so forget her. And your mom—honestly, Car? I know the woman means well, but she’s so full of it. You are beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous, just the way you are.” She gazed into Carlie’s face, her green eyes sad. “It kind of…hurts my heart that you can’t see that.”

Carlie smiled, her own heart swelling with a sweet pain. She could tell her friend really meant it. “Thanks, Dais. Um, that’s what Jake said.”

“What?” Daisy’s eyes widened. “He did? When, where, etcetera—give!”

“We had supper together. By accident, but still…” Carlie told Daisy about their impromptu meeting.

Daisy nodded, her eyes bright. “Whoa, now this is progress.”

“Then he said he’d heard I joined. And he said he’d
see me there
.”

Daisy did a little dance in her chair, arms over her head, circling her hips like a stripper. “Oh yeah. Oh yeah. So let’s find you something totally hot to wear.”

Carlie rolled her eyes and bit back a giggle as two guys who were just walking in caught sight of Daisy’s antics. Their faces lighting up, they made a beeline for the empty table next to the two women. Daisy didn’t even notice them, and Carlie looked away when one of them smiled at her, biting back a grin. Little did the two slender urbanites know the competition they were up against. Dack and Jake could bench-press these two and then tie them in pretzel knots just for fun.

Jake, who liked her just the way she was. She looked at her plate, then picked up a tiny, crispy spring roll, dipped it in dark, sweet sauce and popped it in her mouth, chewing with relish.

After supper, they walked up the street to Nordstrom’s. The shoe department was fabulous and worthy of hushed respect. Their conversation was limited mainly to utterances such as “Ooh, look at these”. They found a pair of bright yellow platforms for Daisy and pink flowered flats for Carlie, which she bought, as they were on sale. They were still expensive, but everyone knew marked-down items at Nordstrom’s went fast. Then the clerk gave her an extra ten percent off for some promotion, so that was even better.

After that they rode the escalators up to look at clothing. Carlie looked with interest at a rack of markdowns, but Daisy frowned.

“Girlfriend, this occasion calls for something more than Nordstrom’s.”

Carlie blinked at this. “What could possibly come after Nordstrom’s?”

Unless it was Anthroplogie, but since she knew Daisy could no more afford to shop there than she could, she was puzzled.

A wicked look in her green eyes, Daisy leaned closer. “Kiss Me, Kink Me.”

Chapter Ten

Carlie had been in Portland’s exclusive fetish-wear shop before with Sara, a visit during which they’d both looked around in awe, at times biting back giggles when they caught each other’s eye over a particularly outrageous item or ensemble. That had been fun, and they’d purchased Daisy the black lace thong which she’d worn for Dack, to great effect. Despite the success of that trip, Carlie didn’t plan to shop here for herself.

Now Carlie stared at the racks of dresses and other garments, her stomach in a knot. She took a step back, and bumped into Daisy, who was rummaging enthusiastically through a selection of bustiers.

“I don’t know, Dais,” she murmured. “I don’t think I can pull off any of these.”

Daisy bumped her with an elbow. “Oh, I think Jake will take care of that for you.”

Carlie rolled her eyes, her cheeks heating as her friend snickered at her own joke. “You know what I mean. They’re so…tiny.”

“Hmm.” Daisy moved to her side, sliding one dress aside and then another.

They stood in the midst of racks of all kinds of skimpy clothing. The small boutique was carpeted and painted a soft gray with silver and ebony highlights, the better to showcase the merchandise, frankly sexual and ranging from elegant to outrageous.

“What about this one?” Daisy held up a little black dress with an interesting gather between the breasts, held by a sequined brooch.

Carlie snorted. “Like that’s going to fit me.”

“Well, you’re going to try it.” Daisy thrust the dress at Carlie and grabbed two more, one red and another black. “And these. Now come on.”

Frowning, Carlie followed as the smaller blonde made her way through the racks of Lycra, glitter and what looked like very uncomfortable vinyl. Yeesh, some of these ensembles looked like they’d pinch a woman’s body in half. She took a deep breath in sympathy, just looking at a heavy leather corset with an impossibly small waist.

“What if Jake wants me to wear stuff like that?” she muttered.

Daisy cast her a teasing look as she paused before one of the dressing cubicles, the curtain held back by a pair of ornate jeweled handcuffs. “Then you’re about to enter a whole new chapter of your life, girlfriend.”

Daisy laughed. “Oh, you should see your face. Honey, Jake isn’t gonna be into that weird stuff. I…don’t think. Just doesn’t seem to fit him, you know?” She shook her head and disappeared behind the curtain.

“‘I don’t think’,” Carlie mimicked under her breath as she closed the curtain of her own cubicle. “He better not be, or I’m out of there.”

“Well, one thing you need to remember,” Daisy said, her voice muffled as she pulled something over her head. “He’s a dom. He’ll be making the decisions, not you. So let him. Let him make you deliriously happy.”

Carlie blew out a breath, stripping off her sleeveless top and pulling one of the black dresses from the hanger. “That, I’m ready for.” She grinned at herself in the mirror.

She was not smiling a few moments later. Instead she felt like plunking herself down in the upholstered gray chair in her black lace bra and panties and crying—again. None of the three dresses fit. Well, one did, but she was not parading into the club with everything fighting to burst free from spangled black Lycra.

“What do you think of this?” Daisy flung open the curtain to Carlie’s cubicle and posed. She was clad in a startling black piece of fabric. Carlie guessed it was a dress, although there was so little of it, she wasn’t sure. But Daisy looked cute in it, as always, even when she frowned, disappointed. “Didn’t like any of those? Well then, maybe it’s time to call in an expert.” Before Carlie could protest, Daisy was gone, out of the dressing room.

Carlie shook her head and picked up her own dress. Then she clutched it in front of her, eyes wide as the curtain flew open to reveal not the goth clerk who had greeted them when they walked into the boutique, but another woman.

She was as dramatic as the store itself. Her long, straight hair was jet black with a red stripe, her skin milk chocolate, her eyes dramatic in dark shadows, her lips full in brilliant red lipstick. She wore a red bustier and black leather pants, tucked into stiletto-heeled boots, and she was not a thin woman. She narrowed her eyes at Carlie and smiled slowly.

“Well, well, what have we here?” she purred. “A club virgin, come to my store to find play clothes? Perfect. I’m Ebony Black.”

“Hello,” Carlie said politely. “I’m Carlie.” And where the heck was Daisy? Some best friend she’d turned out to be. “I, um, don’t really think your things suit me—”

Ebony Black—right, like that was really her name—cocked her hip, and smoothed one hand down her leather-clad thigh. “Not suit you? Girl, are you not
looking
at me? We have nearly the same figure. And if I look this fabulous, so can you. Oh, I can see you wouldn’t wear my things on the street, you have a classic style. But we’re not talking the street now, are we?” She winked at Carlie and ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “We’re talking sexy kink.”

Couldn’t argue with that, or at least Carlie didn’t have time to frame one before the woman shook a manicured finger at her. “You stay right there, and I will bring you some of my special collection.”

“Special?” Carlie breathed as the woman turned away. That sounded ominous.

“For
real
women,” Ebony Black flung over her shoulder, already striding away. “With actual curves.”

Carlie grimaced. Great, kink-wear for chub-ettes. Although this woman certainly rocked her full figure. Carlie wished she had that kind of self-confidence.

“Stop that,” Daisy scolded, pausing in the doorway. “Whatever you’re thinking, lose it. Sara knocks herself for being too slim, not enough curves, and here you are putting yours down. Aghh!”

“I’ll try,” Carlie promised, but she did it doubtfully.

Daisy nodded. “Good enough. I’m getting this bustier. And I’m betting you’ll walk out of here with at least one outfit too.”

Much to her shock, Carlie did.

Thirty minutes later, she and Daisy were on their way, both carrying shopping bags adorned with red metallic lips pursed for a kiss. Carlie’s bag was larger than Daisy’s because it contained twice as many garments.

She sure hoped Jake liked the things she’d chosen, or she was out a few hundred dollars. Dressing slutty in a classy way did not come cheap.

 

 

Jake lay in bed for a while the next morning. This was something he usually didn’t do, but this morning he stretched hard, enjoying the feel of old cotton sheets sliding against his bare skin and then relaxed, one arm behind his head. Staring blankly at the strips of summer morning sun making their way through the blinds on the south window, he instead looked inward, chasing memories. With his other hand, he reached down absently and gave a soothing stroke through his shorts to his usual morning wood.

He’d had a real interesting dream featuring Carlie. They hadn’t been at the club, where he might expect to dream about her, but at the gym. She’d been in that dress she’d worn Saturday night. Deep purple, with long sleeves and a draped neckline she probably thought was modest. And on any other woman it might be, but when it skimmed her rich curves, swelling over her breasts, nipping into her little waist and then outward again in swirls of fluttery fabric over her hips and thighs to end at her knees, it was like the wrapping on the best gift ever. One a man couldn’t wait to dive into.

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