What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) (8 page)

“Five more and you’re done, darlin’. Don’t forget to count.”

Against bare skin, the leather paddle connected with a much louder thwap. The sting more than doubled. Unable to hold back any longer, each blow was followed by a squeak or a sucking sound as she drew air into her seizing lungs.

“Sixteen, Sir,” she panted.

Another thwap a bit harder.

“Ooh, ow! Seventeen,” she cried.

The next swat carried more muscle and stung like blue blazes.

“Motherfucker,” she cursed to the accompaniment of gasps and low chuckles.

“Angela,” he barked.

“Eighteen, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

“That one will be repeated.” And it was, landing identically in the same spot with the same fire as its predecessor.

“Eighteen number two, Sir,” she ground out.

Outright laughs followed her response.

“Don’t give me justification for eighteen number three or four, sub.”

Another fell and she counted nineteen without the snark.

“Good girl,” her pretend Dom murmured with approval, which made her grind her teeth. When this assignment was done, she was deleting all of those titillating BDSM stories from her Kindle. Fantasy was one thing, but reality, so did not do it for her.

With number twenty, though the actual count was really twenty-three, she heaved a relieved sigh. Jumping, when his hand returned to rub her burning skin, soothing the sting away somewhat.

A few minutes later she was off the bench and wrapped in a soft, fuzzy blanket, half-lying across Dan’s lap while ensconced snugly in his arms. A strange foggy lethargy consumed her. Vaguely, she reflected on how her pretend Dom didn’t seem quite so pretend anymore.

He squeezed her in a tight hug, asking, “So, little newbie, what did you think about your first session?”

“Maybe you could ask me tomorrow when my brain and behind are in functional order once more?”

He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re stringing your words together pretty well. How about giving it a try now?”

“Well,” she began, wriggling atop his thighs until she found a more comfortable spot on one hip. “I found it all incredibly intimate. The first part wasn’t entirely awful, but I think I could have done without that leather tormenter, Sir.”

“I have two things to say about that statement. First, if I’d spared you the leather, you would have missed the lesson and wouldn’t remember the difference when tempted to get sassy in the future.”

Meaning in LA, it was game time in order to fool, and subsequently catch, the abductor. He lapsed into silence until she prompted, “What’s the second thing?”

He lowered his mouth to her ear. “If I was your Dom for real, I’d have proven you didn’t find any of it entirely awful.”

She swallowed, not saying a word because he wasn’t wrong.

Chapter Five

Dressed in a hot pink racer-back tank and black Capri pants, Angie paced the mat in the gym at Rossi. The clock on the wall read 8:15 a.m. Dan was late. He was never late. Something was up.

The metal door clanged as it opened behind her, but it wasn’t Dan. It was Cap, followed closely by Lil T. She frowned. Something was definitely up.

“Change in plans, Angie. Dan got called away on a family emergency last night.”

This was surprising. They’d parted ways less than eight hours ago. “Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Not life threatening, fortunately,” Cap replied, quickly dispelling her fears. “His mother had a wipe out on her scooter and broke her hip.”

Picturing a little old lady with gray hair in one of those slow-going power chairs with the wide base and seat belt that probably topped out at four miles per hour, she tilted her head and inquired, “How exactly does one wipe out on one of those?”

He smiled. “I should clarify. Marjorie Ogilvie is not your average seventy-two-year-old. Her scooter was a 300-class Honda Forza. According to Dan, she was street racing, cut a corner too sharply while passing on the inside lane, and wiped out. He flew out to Dallas on a 6 a.m. flight.”

“Of course.” In the weeks she’d been working with Dan, she’d frequently seen him ride in on his custom Harley, a Super Glide he’d called it. It was hot and as they became close she’d finagled a ride on the back a time or two, and loved it. She smiled, thinking about his mother on a souped-up scooter. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. “I’ll call him and see if there’s anything I can do.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that, Angie,” Cap said with a small smile. His eyes cut to T who stood silently beside him.

When she did the same, her smile faded seeing the glower on his face. Without being told, she knew why T was there.

“T is going to take over your training, here and at the club.”

Hearing precisely what she’d expected, it still struck her like a blow. Angie’s head swung to her boss. No! It couldn’t happen.

A vivid memory of him with the woman tied to the bench invaded her thoughts. His head thrown back with pleasure, his neck muscles tight, his biceps and forearms bulging as he gripped the woman’s hips, and his long thick cock glistening with her juices as he took her, hard. While she’d been assimilating all of that, he’d come, growling his release. He was gorgeous.

To say she’d been shocked was putting it mildly. Not so much by the fact that he was driving into the bound woman, or that another man was using her mouth at the same time. It wasn’t that she was stark naked, her hands and feet restrained as they double teamed her. It was more so the sheer beauty of the man she’d lusted after for so long. Her heart twisted now, as it had then, first with jealousy that it hadn’t been her—bent over, tied down, helpless and vulnerable in front of him—then turning to pain when she realized that it never would be.

She’d spent the better part of last night and this morning trying to push the images of him from her mind. When she had succeeded, sort of, she’d had little time to prepare herself to see Dan again. Considering what he’d done to her, touching her so intimately, spanking her naked backside, it seemed a daunting task. Spared the awkward moment this morning, she’d welcome it tenfold in exchange for this instant with T.

The past twelve hours spent purging him from her memory were all for naught as all of it came flooding back. The scolding she’d given herself for yearning after something out of reach, for acting like a naïve, jealous fool, and the ultimate humiliation, fleeing when she saw him with another, had been wasted.

Once, he’d offered her the chance to bring her fantasies to life by playing with him at the club, time limited, naturally. She’d declined out of self-preservation, knowing her heart couldn’t take being that close to the man of her dreams, who starred in every single one of her sex fantasies, and never be able to have him as she really wanted him. Beyond the sex and games, beyond a few hours of mindless passion, she wanted him fully, without time constraints, without limitations, and outside the restrictions of his hardline, one night, no relationship rules.

Now that she’d seen him in the flesh, while in the throes of passion, she was afraid she would cave shamelessly and forever regret her weakness. How was she supposed to work with him? Moving on and forgetting T would be hard enough, with him as her trainer it would be next to impossible, but as her Dom… No! Her chest tightened painfully.

“Um, Cap, can we talk for a moment in private?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw T stiffen and resolved not to look.

“I’m already late for a meeting. What is it?”

“It’s just that…” She paused, trying to come up with a way to say this without offending him, yet she couldn’t. These were men who were used to conflict and making split second decisions. They lived in the moment and didn’t beat around the bush in action or speech. They liked straight talk and appreciated straight answers. Taking a deep breath, she gave them that. “I’d rather not train with T. Isn’t there someone else?”

Cap frowned, glancing from one to the other. “Something going on between you two I should know about?”

“No,” T replied, a split-second ahead of Angie’s emphatic denial. “Absolutely not.”

“Then what is the problem?”

Angie at last glanced his way and found him watching her closely. His brow quirked, apparently very interested in hearing her answer. He wasn’t helping one bit. Surely he agreed this was a really bad idea. Yet his crossed arms and stiff carriage made her suspect he was offended by her reluctance to work with him.

“I’d really prefer someone else.” It was no explanation, and made it sound like she was being difficult—like a capricious woman—exactly how she didn’t want to be thought of as the only woman in this world of tough men. Damn.

Cap’s dark brows drew together. “I can get someone else, but would have to pull them off another job, which I’d rather not do. He’s just come back and is available now. Further, T usually works with our FNG’s. If he’d been back from assignment when you came on board, you’d have gotten him from the start.”

“FNG’s?” She asked, unfamiliar with the acronym, having noticed long ago the military used many more than the police.

“Army term for new recruits,” Cap explained tactfully.

“Short for ‘fuckin’ new guys’,” T added indelicately, his tone as brusque as his manner.

Cap shot him a look.

He simply shrugged it off.

“As I was saying, T is an excellent operative, as proficient as Dano. In weaponry and tactical skills, even more so. As far as submissive training goes, although he doesn’t have as many years under his belt, he’s an experienced dominant. He’s also the only single man left on staff who’s in the lifestyle. With Dan gone, I’m afraid you’re stuck with T’s guidance at Decadence regardless. So you might as well have him do both.”

“Gee, thanks, Cap,” T drawled.

“I’m fine with T for Rossi, but the club… Surely you have another available Dom there who can train me. I shouldn’t think they need to be a security expert for that.”

“You’d rather have a stranger than me?” T barked.

Yep, offended and she’d just made it worse. It did sound rather bad, that she’d take anyone else, still it was true. She couldn’t do it with him. He’d suck her in with his charm and lay waste to her heart when it was over.

“Are you ready for that, darlin’?” T probed in a tone so low and rumbly it came out like a growl. “A club Dom isn’t going to know about your assignment for Rossi. They’ll treat you like a real submissive and expect you to behave that way. I don’t think you would like all that entails.”

He meant sex, of course, public scenes, spankings, floggings, bondage and lord knows what else.

To Cap, she appealed, “Isn’t there a class I can take?”

“There’s no time. Besides, Dano teaches the beginner’s class.” His expression was apologetic as he disclosed this unknown fact.

Shit!

She spun and walked away. This wasn’t shaping up as she’d expected.

“Angie. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you,” Cap had moved when she did and now stood close behind her, “but you can trust T. He’ll honor your limits, whatever you set. You filled out paperwork for Dex, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“With a limit list and a safeword, you’ll be in good hands with him. Always.”

She glanced at T. With bulging arms still crossed over his chest and his face dark like a thundercloud, it was painfully obvious he was not happy with her or being discussed as though he wasn’t in the room.

Way to go, Hixson. She’d managed to piss off her new handler in minutes, the man who would be sparring with her by day and molding her into a convincing submissive by night. Why not allow him a free punch to the jaw, or better yet, hand him a paddle now and get it over with?

Seeing no other choice, she reluctantly nodded her head.

“Good. Since that’s settled, there’s one other thing. We need you in LA by the end of the week, so I’m afraid this is going to have to be a crash course.”

“And T goes with me?”

“Yes.” His response came without hesitation. “He’s your handler for this mission, as well as your protection.” Frowning again, he glanced at T.

“Go on,” her angry new partner urged, while planting both hands on his hips, “you might as well tell her the rest of it.”

“First and foremost,” Cap stated, emphatically, “sex is not and never will be a requirement of your job. You and T can work around it during your training here, but in LA, if the two of you interact at all, it’s going to be more challenging to maintain your cover. T has worked cases in our LA office. Like here, a lot of the Rossi men are Doms at the club. T has played there often. That means many of the club members know him well.”

She gazed up at him, unsure what he was getting at. “Isn’t that a good thing? He’ll know the layout of the facility and knowing him, won’t the membership be comfortable talking around him?”

“Honey, they know how he plays and will expect him to be the same way with you or they’ll be suspicious. If that happens, we could scare our perp away.”

It all clicked into place: the recollections of everything she’d heard about him and his reputation, the threesome she’d witnessed, and Mara calling him a try-sexual. Dan had misunderstood her upset at seeing him in a scene. Not suspecting anything personal on her part, he’d explained during their recap after that T was the least shy of any of the Masters, going on to describe his proclivity not only for threesomes and group sex, but for public play.

Overloaded by the stress of the last few days, her mind wasn’t able to process as well as it usually did, neither did it filter her tongue as she blurted out, “They’ll expect me to be a try-anything, group sex aficionado with all and sundry and do it smack dab in the middle of the main floor because I’m with him. Is that what you’re saying?”

Cap gave her a wide-eyed, brow arching look of utter disbelief, his attention shifting to T for answers when she didn’t say more.

“I’m not sure she’s going to be ready for LA in an entire week, much less three short days, Cap. She saw me in a scene with Ed and Emily last night, and freaked, running out of there like the ass of her PVC skirt was on fire.” He explained this to Cap while watching her closely, a black brow raised as though daring her to deny it.