She's All Tied Up: Club 3, Book 2 (26 page)

Besides, Jake wasn’t here, so who gave a foo if she didn’t look all chic and made-up? She was clean, exercised and glowing with good health.

She walked out of the locker room, into the gym proper, nodding to one of the trainers, Phil, a short but cute redhead who had earlier asked if she needed help with a stuck weight-control lever. She’d accepted his help gratefully, as one of the lifters who clearly did not know his own strength had tightened the lever so no woman could move it. They chatted, and he let her know he was available if she needed help with anything else. Pleased to have a friend on staff, Carlie beamed at him. He smiled back, then as someone called his name on the intercom, apologized and jogged to the front desk.

“You have a nice evening, Carlie,” he called now.

“Thanks. You too, Phil.”

She sauntered on her way with the smugness that goes with walking through a gym full of people sweating through the exercises one has already completed, until a deep voice called her name, in a peremptory way. “Carlie.”

She turned to find Jake striding out of the men’s locker room, in his customary faded, low-cut tank, long shorts and scowl. Her quick, intense pulse of pleasure at seeing him faltered when she registered his forbidding scowl. Waiting for him to catch up with her, she studied his expression dubiously.

“What’s wrong?” she asked when he reached her.

He put a hand on the small of her back, propelling her toward the front of the gym. “Nothin’s wrong. Just saying hello. Good workout?”

Workout? What workout? With his hand resting on her back, heat arcing through the thin fabric of her sundress and panties, she felt as if she’d just knocked back a few shots. She wondered what he’d do if she just leaned in and laid a big kiss on him right here.

“Baby, good workout?” he repeated. He nodded to a couple coming in. They smiled, glanced curiously at Carlie as they passed.

“Right,” she said, blinking. “It was fine.”

They were passing the front desk, where Phil stood with Brittany, looking at a computer screen. He glanced up, started to smile at Carlie. She watched him register Jake, Jake’s nearness to her, and glance back down at the computer, smile flat. Carlie walked with Jake out the front door and stopped. She could hear Seth’s sarcastic voice in her head, calling this “the guy equivalent of pissing on her leg”. She looked up at Jake, waiting.

He stayed close, his gaze traveling down over her in the sundress and back up, his hand still on her back. “You have a good evening,” he said.

“You too, honey,” she said in a sugary tone.

His gaze flicked up to hers, an arrested look in his gray eyes.

She widened her eyes at him. “Are we going steady now?”

“No, but Phil understands not to flirt with you anymore.”

“He wasn’t flirting with me, Sergeant. He was just being friendly.”

Jake leaned close. “Baby. He was flirting. Won’t happen again.”

“For goodness’ sake,” she muttered. “See you later.” She walked away. But she was smiling. He was jealous of other guys talking to her. That was a good sign, right?

“Yes, you will. And, you call me Sergeant again in that voice, I’m gonna teach you to salute properly.”

She looked over her shoulder. With a twitch of his lips, he turned and sauntered back into the gym. She watched him go, a little shiver running down her back, unsure if that had been a promise or a threat.

He was a dom—so probably both.

Jake walked back into the gym, grinning at the look on her face. Sergeant indeed. Maybe he would have her salute him while he teased her with a vibrator and a pair of nipple clamps. Just little ones, because those pink nipples of hers were real sensitive. As thinking about her tits made his cock harden, he cursed to himself.

“Time to get your head out of your pants, Stone, and back in the game.”

Back to reality. He rolled his head, loosening the tight trapezius muscles down the back of his neck and shoulders, but it did nothing to relieve the chill of uneasiness tracing his spine. What the fuck was he doing? Staking his claim and letting her know that. Dangerous territory. The area where women, even subs, began to expect promises of fidelity and a monogamous relationship. And as he’d told his friends, he was not going there.

No matter how tempting the notion of having her bounty all to himself.

As if on cue, a guitar riffed from his pocket. He palmed his phone and looked at the display. Great, best reminder ever that family life was not for the likes of him. Without pausing his stride, Jake put his phone to his ear.

“Ray. What’s up?”

“Hey, sonnie. I’m in town, that’s what’s up. Got time to have a drink with your old man?” Ray’s words were upbeat, but his tone was heavy, as if he was trying to force himself to good cheer.

“Don’t get off till nine,” Jake said.

“No problem. Meet you at Rock Bottom Brewery? I’ll be in the bar. Feel like a few cold ones.”

Might as well get it over with. “Yeah. See you about nine thirty.” He bit back the urge to remind his dad not to get shit-faced before Jake even got there, because he was not taking him home to pour him into a bed. Not anymore.

He walked back to the weights, his mood dark again. This was his life, and he’d best remember that. No matter who they were, family or sweet subs with tits and ass that would not quit, they came with chains that could wrap both ways and pull a man down to where he could barely breathe, suffocated in their problems.

Then he shook off his dark mood. He’d let his dad know he was not crashing at Jake’s place. He’d make sure Carlie knew her place in his life too.

He was in control.

Carlie met Daisy and Sara for a walk Saturday morning at Tom McCall Park in downtown Portland. The park was one of Carlie’s favorite places. She loved the combination of sophisticated city buildings towering over the long park with its fountains and low cement esplanade overlooking the Willamette River.

She parked in a SmartPark and walked along SW Salmon to the fountain. Against the backdrop of the white spray arcing in the morning sun, Sara stood, stretching gracefully, on one foot, the other held up behind her, and her free arm over her head. Daisy was giggling as she tried her best to pull her foot up behind her without losing her balance. The park was busy as always on summer mornings, cyclists passing joggers, walkers and people sitting on benches, blankets and the grass. Beyond them, the river sparkled green in the sunlight.

“You’re smiley this morning,” Sara said without breaking her pose.

“Yeah,” Carlie said. “Look.” She grasped the sides of her shorts at her hips and pulled them out.

“Wow, loose,” Daisy said, giving up on the stretch to straighten. “Nice.”

“Yay, you,” Sara said, flashing a bright smile. “You look great. Glowing with health.”

Daisy waggled her brows in the shadow of her pink baseball cap. “Although that could be caused by Jake.”

Carlie shrugged coyly, and her friends laughed. She joined in. “Come on, let’s go.”

They crossed the lawn to the path along the riverfront, dodging a pair of cyclists who showed no inclination to slow for them. Portland was a bike-friendly city, which at times could be a bit scary for pedestrians.

The trio headed north along the river, pacing a gleaming white leisure boat cruising along, the passengers pointing at the tall buildings.

“So how is Jake?” Sara asked.

Carlie smiled; she couldn’t help it. “He’s…good. Scary, but good.”

“Scary?” Sara looked concerned now, which Carlie understood because Jake was big and didn’t smile a lot.

Carlie shook her head quickly. “I don’t mean, um, in a bad way. He’s never threatening physically. He just—pushes me.”

Daisy nodded, with a little smile that said she did know. “To try new things?”

Carlie blew out a breath. “And then talk about them. Unnerving, you know?”

“Wow,” Sara breathed. “Must be intense. You sound all hot and bothered just talking about it. About him.”

“Yeah.” She was hot and bothered, all right. Turned on and wearing a sappy smile on her face, but she didn’t care. Just thinking about Jake did that.

“So,” Daisy said, poking Carlie with her elbow. “Have you worn that outfit for him yet? The red one? You’ll look great in it, with your new, improved figure.”

They detoured around a slow-moving family with a toddler pushing her stroller. “No.” Carlie shook her head and sped up, pouring her agitation into her stride. “I don’t know if I can pull that off. The thought of walking into the club in slut wear—
yikes
.”

“Actually,” Daisy said, “It’s a turn-on.”

Her friends looked at her and then each other and shook their heads. “After your fears about your body, and your breasts. Never did I think you would turn out to be an exhibitionist,” Sara said.

Daisy punched the air with her fists as she walked, swinging her hips. “Hey, I am out and proud, because Dack wants me that way. And I’ll take that man any way I can get him.”

“But you did it for yourself too,” Carlie said. She was breathing hard as they neared the Morrison St. Bridge. “You want to cross the river, do the bridges?”

“No, I’m fine just staying on this side,” Sara said. Daisy nodded.

“Me too. And you’re right, I did do it for myself. That’s why I think you should too. And Jake will love it, trust me.”

“I don’t know.” Carlie shook her head, shivering a little as they passed into the cool shade under the bridge. “He said something about liking to be the only one to unwrap the package.”

Her friends laughed, but Daisy persisted. “All you’re doing is putting exciting new wrap on the package. C’mon, Car. Tonight is leather night, and I’m wearing my new bustier. We’ll walk in together and knock their boots off.”

“Well, I did spend a lot of money on that outfit,” Carlie said. She hated that. She was not one to shop just for the thrill of the hunt. If she bought it, she either returned it or wore it.

“And guaranteed there will be plenty of others dressed more outrageously than you.” As they emerged into the sunshine again, Daisy did a cheerleader leap. “Woo-hoo! This is gonna rock, girlfriend.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Sara said, the words bursting out of her in a huff. “I am coming back to the club. You two are having all the fun without me.”

“And the sex,” Daisy added and burst out laughing.

Carlie joined in, because when Daisy laughed, you couldn’t help it. However, she was glad she was working her body hard to quell the nerves twinging in her middle. She sure hoped Daisy was right and Jake would like that she dressed up for him.

She reached around Daisy to touch Sara’s shoulder. “Only come back if you’re ready.”

Sara nodded. “I think I am. I just needed time to get over what happened last time I was there.”

Daisy turned, jogging backward to watch Sara, her smile gone. “Are you, hon? I hope so. The guys will take extra care of you after that. You know that, right?”

Sara nodded. “I know.”

“Especially Trace,” Daisy added teasingly. “Wait till he sees you walk in with us.”

“Oh my God,” Sara said. “Will you stop it?”

Daisy thought about it for a second. “No.”

Then both her friends grabbed her arms as an oncoming cyclist veered around another walker and straight at her, and she let out a squeak of surprise. The three of them ended up crowded against the cement rail of the esplanade as the cyclist flashed by with a grin.

“Watch it,” Carlie called after him. “Dumbass.”

“He was staring at Daisy’s ass,” Sara said.

Carlie nodded. Guys always stared at Daisy.

“Are you kidding me?” Daisy said. “He was looking at you two.”

“And how would you know? You had your back turned.”

“Picky, picky. Come on, let’s go.”

Carlie stopped on the step of Club 3 and took a shallow breath, all she could manage in her tight outfit. It failed to quell the storm of nerves inside her.

“My legs are shaking,” she muttered.

“Adrenaline,” Daisy said. “You’ll be fine once you get in there and see what everyone else is wearing. Come on, girl.”

With a nod, Carlie followed her friend into the lobby of the club. Rochelle beamed at them from the concierge desk, made of the same dark, gleaming wood with a plaque on the front that held one half of a pair of handcuffs opened to make the number three.

“Good evening, ladies. Welcome. Go on in.”

“Thanks, Rochelle.” Daisy turned to Carlie and held out her hand. “Give me the shawl.”

Carlie blew out a breath this time. It didn’t help either. Then she let go of the black pashmina she’d wrapped around her. It slid from her bare shoulders, and she held it out to Daisy.

Rochelle’s eyes widened. “Wow,” she breathed. “You
rock
that.”

Carlie peered at herself in the mirror on the side wall and moaned in distress. All she could see was the expanse of her breasts, plumped into full, pale mounds above the edge of the red leather corset. Her nipples were barely covered. The corset nipped in her waist, making it look small, but then flared over her hips, clad in a black, stretch mini skirt. A
very
mini skirt, which did not meet the bottom edge of the corset or the tops of her black fishnet stockings.