My Stepbrother's Rules: The Complete Series (Steamy Stepbrother Romance) (4 page)

3

I hugged the walls of the club, slowly making my way around. I scanned the faces of all the men. My stepbrother wasn’t among them. I sighed with relief and settled in at the bar.

“Shirley Temple?” the bartender said.

“What?”

“That’s what you ordered last time.”

“Oh. Yeah, give me another,” I said with a bit of embarrassment.

“Coming right up.”

The bartender was cute. He had short blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a boyish grin. Was he involved in the club beyond just tending bar? If I was going to get a story, I was going to have to hook up with another Dom.

There were some hot guys in the club, though most of them were preoccupied with dates. I wondered if maybe I could ask one of the girls for a private room. Once inside I could try to interview them. I suspected they wouldn’t like this much and I didn’t blame them. They had a job to do; they didn’t want to be ambushed by a reporter.

The bartender set my Shirley Temple down. I took a sip. He lingered watching me drink. I smiled at him. I’m not good at flirting. I usually wait for the guy to make the first move.

“You don’t seem like the type of girl to be into this,” he said with a wave of his hand, indicating the room.

I shrugged. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“Yes, they can.”

He smiled; a mischievous gleam lit up his eyes. “I get off in half an hour. Do you want to get out of here? Get some coffee, or something to eat?”

I was torn. Under normal circumstance, I would have been thrilled to get asked out by a guy as hot as the bartender, but I had a story to write and he wanted to leave. Apparently, he wasn’t into BDSM. Maybe I could interview him though? I was sure he’d seen enough to give me a good story.

No. It was no good. I was being selfish. I couldn’t sacrifice my story for a date with a cute guy. It could cost me my job.

“Maybe we could get a private room in the back?” I offered.

“Not really my scene.”

“Oh.” I hated how disappointed I sounded.

“Maybe some other time,” he said.

I knew there would never be another time. I sipped from my drink and watched him walk away to fill another drink order.

“I knew you’d come back.”

I turned to find the woman I’d encountered the other night. She still wore her corset and leather pants. Tonight her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. Long red extensions were mixed in with her platinum blonde hair. She looked like a video game character.

“I like your hair,” she said. “The dark red suits you.”

I took a sip of my drink. She recognized me way too easily; so much for my disguise.

“Thanks. Your corset looks hot,” I said.

She laughed. “Thanks.”

I’d worn a simple black velvet dress with boots. I wished I could afford a new outfit like hers.

“What’s your name?” I asked. I still wasn’t sure she was the boss.

“Ivy. You here alone? Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.”

I instantly regretted saying this. According to the bodyguard out front, this woman was the boss. If she had something to hide, it was best she didn’t know I was here alone. If I uncovered something newsworthy, she might decide to dispose of me.

I took another drink and tried to shake away the thought. I was getting ahead of myself. My imagination was running away with me. There was no reason to think I was in immediate danger. Still, a bit of protection couldn’t help.

“I’m supposed to meet him here,” I lied, “and some other friends.”

My lie sounded pathetic. A curious smile spread across her face.

“Well, I hope you find him. In the meantime, would you like to see a private show?”

I perked up. “Yeah, that would be great.”

She winked and gestured for me to follow her. I picked up my Shirley Temple and followed her down the long hallway leading to the back. She unlocked a private room and opened the door. Apparently, the rooms locked from the inside. It made sense. You wouldn’t want to be disturbed once a show starts.

I had the impression a lot of the patrons were wealthy, important people. They probably didn’t want it known they frequented BDSM clubs. Discretion was of the utmost importance.

There was most definitely a story here, but it would take a lot more digging and I didn’t have the time. It was Tuesday and my editor expected the first draft of my story by Wednesday. I had to get down to business.

Ivy opened the door. I stepped inside. I expected her to follow me, but she closed the door and left. We were in one of the small theatre rooms. It was identical to the one I sat in with Alex two nights before.

A couple sat on the couch before the curtained glass wall. Shyly, I sat down beside them. The man was dressed casually in slacks and a polo t-shirt. He looked like a yuppie on vacation. The woman was wearing a white summer dress. They looked like they belonged on a yacht or on the deck of a summer home. It was strange how out of place they were. Suddenly, I felt more comfortable.

“Is this your first time?” the woman whispered to me.

“No,” I whispered back. I wasn’t sure why we were keeping our voices low, but I went with it. “I’ve been here before.”

“This is our fifth time. We’re hooked,” the girl confided.

I nodded.

“These alternative lifestyle bars are quite trendy now,” the man explained.

I furrowed a brow. They were here because they thought it was trendy? Odd; but it could make for an interesting angle in my story.

“Oh! Here we go,” the man said.

The curtain pulled back. A blonde girl dressed like a secretary stood before a desk. It was the same as the scene from the other night. I was a bit disappointed. I was hoping for something new.

Then a door opened and her Dom walked in. Suddenly, I wanted to run. It was Alex.

I leaned back in my seat and tried to hide in the shadows. A mixture fear and anger twisted inside my stomach. I didn’t want him to see me and have me kicked out of the club, but at the same time I wanted to know what his reaction would be. Would knowing I was watching him with another girl make him feel guilty?

Alex and I haven’t made any promises to one another. It wasn’t my place to feel territorial and yet, jealousy washed over me.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and watched as Alex walked up to the girl. He approached her from behind, whispering in her ear. He held something behind his back.

“He’s hot,” the woman on the couch beside me cooed.

“He’s not
that
good-looking,” her date said dismissively. He sounded jealous. I understood the feeling.

Alex ran his hand over the girl’s body. Her mouth opened as if she was moaning. The sound system was still broken. I cursed the club for not fixing it. What was Alex saying to the girl? What promises did he whisper to her?

He slid his hand up her skirt. He took his time caressing the insides of her thighs. It was then he revealed the object he kept hidden behind his back: a black riding crop. It was the same one he’d used on me.

I stood up with distaste. It felt like a betrayal. I thought our time together was special. Alex was using the same moves on this girl that he’d used on me. The couple’s attention was drawn to me.

“Sit,” the woman hissed. “The show’s just starting.”

Alex turned to look at me. We locked eyes. I expected to see surprise, even anger because I’d broken my promise to stay away. Instead, I saw satisfaction. His eyes gleamed mischievously; his mouth was twisted into a smirk.

“The nerve- that arrogant… ugh!”

I turned and stormed out of the room, leaving a confused scene behind me.

I walked out into the club. Bass music pounded dully.

“Finished already?” Ivy asked.

She sauntered over me to with an amused grin on her face. Understanding slowly dawned on me.

“You knew he was in there, didn’t you?”

She licked her lips. “It was just a bit of fun, that’s all.”

“Fun? You think this is funny?”

Her smile faded. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to get between the two of you. He told me-”

“Wait a minute- he put you up to this?”

“I thought it was a game the two of you played. A lot of our clients enjoy a cat and mouse style-”

I turned and walked away. I didn’t want to hear anymore. Alex was trying to make me jealous. Why? It didn’t matter. I was too angry to care.

Two men stood together drinking and talking. One of them was tall and lean with dark hair and piercing green eyes. I walked straight up to him.

“Want to get a room?” I asked.

The man almost choked on his drink. It was clear he wasn’t used to girls being this forward.

“Um… yeah.”

A bodyguard stood off to the side. “We need a room,” I said to him.

Ivy came running up. “I’ll take care of it.”

She looked the man over as she led us to one of the private rooms. As she unlocked the door, she shot me a knowing look that said: are you sure about this? I ignored her warning stare and pushed my way past her.

“Our guards are in the hall if you need anything,” she said to me.

What she was really saying was: if things get out of hand, help is right outside.

“We’ll be fine,” I said and closed the door in her face.

“Shall we get started?” the man asked. “Where would you like to begin? Whips? Handcuffs?”

He picked up a long riding crop and slapped it against his arm. He winced in pain and frowned. I rolled my eyes. It was clear he had no idea what he was doing.

“We should start with establishing a safe word.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

I should have taken his ignorance as my cue to exit, but foolishly I carried on.

“It’s a word we both agree on that means stop immediately. If things become too intense, I say the safe word and you stop doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Too intense. I like that.”

He laughed like an idiot. He was looking less and less cute by the second.

“Red is our safe word,” I said ignoring him. “If I say red, stop immediately. Do you understand?”

“Got it. So I’m in charge, right?” I didn’t answer. “Take off your dress. I want to see you naked.”

I was seriously starting to regret this decision. I unzipped my dress slowly. I wasn’t trying to be sexy; I was simply trying to put off this encounter for as long as possible. The black velvet dress fell to my feet.

“Nice,” he said, nodding. “Take off your bra and panties. No, wait, I’ll do it.”

He tossed the riding crop onto the floor and walked over to me.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

When I didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. Unable to unhook my bra, he cursed under his breath and fought with the strap.

“Can I help you, Master?”

He started to laugh wildly at being referred to as ‘Master.’ “No, slave, I’m good.”

“Red,” I called out.

This was a mistake. I couldn’t deal with this immature loser. I needed a man who knew what he was doing.

“What do you mean red? We just got started.”

He continued to fight with my bra. I stepped away from him. He grabbed my arm and twisted it around.

“Hey!” I protested.

“Don’t be uptight. You’re the one who asked me back here.”

The door flew open. Alex stood before me, a look of raw fury on his face.

“Room’s occupied, dude.”

I tried to pull away from the man, but he still held my arm. Without a word, Alex walked up to him and punched him in the face. As the man fell to the floor, he nearly took me with him. Alex wrapped an arm around my waist to steady me then he pushed me behind him protectively.

He wasn’t done with my would-be attacker yet. He kicked the man in the stomach then moved over him. Alex let loose a flurry of blows.

I watched with a mixture of satisfaction and fear. Any guy who won’t respect a woman’s wishes deserves to get their ass kicked and worse, but I’ve never seen such naked anger from Alex. I’ve always thought of him as a man whose life was pretty well put together. The club exposed the darkness within.

“Alex…”

He stopped at the sound of my voice. Our eyes met. Wild fury radiated in the tension in his body. Slowly, I saw him regain control. His expression softened. He stood, leaving the man to whimper on the floor.

“Get the fuck out,” he said.

Crawling on hands and knees, the man scrambled out the door. Alex shut it behind him.

“Are you okay?” he asked me.

“Are
you
okay?”

His anger troubled me. Where had it come from? He was always so laid back. Alex was the kind of guy to negotiate his way out of problems.