Poker Posse 1: Looking at Rose (8 page)

When his need for air forced him to stop, Ibraham drew back but didn’t release her. His gaze met hers. The dazed and aroused look suffusing her face pleased his dominant self. With one arm around her waist and the other tangled in her hair, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and whispered, “Come into my cage, Rose.”

She blinked and began to nod when, over her shoulder, he saw a hand rise, as if to grasp Rose’s arm and steal her away from him.

A low, throaty growl issued from deep inside his chest. He bit back the inclination to snap, “Mine!” at the usurper. Ibraham stopped himself from batting the hand away only because, after a moment of clarity, he recognized the person reaching for his woman. Something in the brunette’s expression set his instincts on alert. Distress clouded the dark blue eyes of Rose’s friend as she pulled her hand back, then glanced anxiously around the room before again reaching for Rose’s arm.

“ROSE!”

Until Ibraham looked away from her, Rose was oblivious to the world around her. Once the connection with his honey-colored gaze was lost, the sounds of voices and music filled her ears.

A hand landed on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. “Rose!”

Dazed and more than a little aroused, Rose used Ibraham’s broad chest for support when she turned to look at the woman beside her. One sight of Ellie’s pale face and wide eyes shot adrenaline through her veins, rousing Rose to full awareness in less time than it took to blink. She pushed away from Ibraham, aware of the cold that quickly seeped in the moment her body lost contact with his just as it had last night. “Ellie, what’s wrong?”

Before Ellie could respond, Norah was tugging at her other arm. “Rose, we have to go. Now!” When her friend spotted Ellie, she added, “Thank God. I’ve been looking for you, Ellie.”

Movement at the edge of the crowd drew Rose’s attention, but the moment she spotted the neat little blue pillbox hat, her heart stopped, then resumed beating twice as fast as before. “Mama?”

“Not just yours,” Norah assured Rose. Her friend’s gaze darted around the crowd before turning toward the second floor.

“Rose?” Ibraham’s quiet voice steadied her. He stepped up behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders, returning the warmth that had leached away seconds earlier.

When she looked up at him, Rose was torn. Everything in her told her to stay, but the fact that her mother and possibly her friends’ mothers were in the club and might see her inclined her to run far and fast to avoid the situation. “I have to go,” she told him. She wanted to say more. Apologize. Beg for another chance.

“Stay.” It wasn’t a request but a command. His hold tightened. The look in his eyes compelled her to do exactly as he said, but Rose shook her head.

“I can’t. If Mama catches me here, I’ll die.” The thought of her mother finding her in the club, much less locked inside a big black cage with Ibraham, sent her heart straight to her stomach, then her toes.

She didn’t want to see the disgust in his face. It was a sure thing that he would find her fear of facing her mother infantile, further proof that she was nowhere near his league, but she’d deal with that later. Another glance at the crowd showed that the little blue hat was drawing closer.

When she turned back to him, Ibraham wrapped his fist in her hair and tugged her against his chest. Against her lips, he ordered, “Wait for me in your shop tonight. I’ll be there by one.” His kiss was fierce but short. “Go. I’ll keep her busy.”

Kicking off her heels, Rose scooped them up, then pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

He nodded, then turned away, parting the crowd easily on his way toward Viola Whittman. Rose stared after him until Ellie tugged on her arm.

“Come on, Rose. We have to go.”

Trying to remain inconspicuous was easier for Norah and Ellie with their average heights. For Rose it was a crucible of stepped-on toes and strange looks as she hunched down so she couldn’t be seen. Halfway across the room, she was separated from her friends and almost had a heart attack when Ellie’s mother, Miss Lucy, backed into her. A shift in the crowd and a lunge to her left kept Rose from discovery, but she hurried her steps as the double doors to the entryway loomed ahead of her.

They made it through the door and onto the sidewalk without getting spotted by any of their mothers. While they caught their breath and Rose slipped her shoes back onto her mashed toes, Ellie gasped, trying to catch her breath, and asked, “What are they doing here?”

“They?” Rose asked.

“I don’t know. The second I spotted Miss Mabel upstairs in her red suit, I lit out to find y’all.” Norah pushed her sweat-dampened bangs off her forehead. “I nearly ran over Miss Raelene and Mama while I was trying to signal Ari.”

Ellie looked around. “Where is Ari? And Mirrie?”

Rose shook her head, disbelief evident in her voice. “All of them are here?”

Norah and Ellie nodded.

Leaning against a lamppost, Rose concentrated on slowing down her racing heart. “Mama was wearing her blue Jackie O dress and matching hat. Last time I saw her in it was when she browbeat the city council into keeping the book mobile, two summers ago.”

Before anyone could respond, Ari came out of the side alley at a run. “We gotta go.”

Ellie pulled her keys from the hip purse she wore.

“Where’s Mirabeth?” Norah asked.

Ari bit her lip and looked back down the alley. “She went white as a sheet the second she heard her mama’s voice and passed out. The cowboy dom doing the rope demo scooped her up and walked off with her. I tried to follow, but Master Damian promised me she was safe before he sent me out the employee entrance.”

The sound of a pickup truck filled the night air as it exited the alley beside them and turned out of the parking lot. When it passed, Mirabeth was clearly visible, her head resting on the shoulder of the man driving, her pale blonde hair a stark contrast with the black, green, and blue plaid of his Western-style shirt.

Rose was worried and all set to demand they follow the truck until Norah spoke up.

“She knows him.”

“Mirrie? How can you be sure?” Ellie demanded. She led them across the parking lot toward her sedan, Ari, Rose, and Norah on her heels.

Norah fished her car key from her pocket. “I heard her call him Riley before I warned her that her mama was in the club.”

All four of them froze with the doors of Ellie’s car wide open. A bubble of excitement built inside Rose. “You don’t think?”

Ellie shook her head, “It couldn’t be…”

Norah shrugged. “It might be.”

Ari grinned. “Mirrie’s Riley, here?”

The excitement turned to laughter as Rose and her friends climbed into Ellie’s car and drove the short distance to where Norah had parked. “Boy, he’s gonna have a heck of a surprise.” Rose chuckled.

The others agreed. When Norah swung her door open, she added another little nugget of information. “Jake is back.” She didn’t wait for a response before shutting the door and hurrying to her car, leaving Rose alone in the backseat.

Silence filled the sedan as they waited for Norah to pull out and lead the way out of the parking lot.

Ellie waited until they were on the road to Magnolia before speaking. “Riley
and
Jake?”

Ari nodded. “And they’re both dominants.”

Rose eased back in her seat, her mind spinning at the realization that not only had Mirrie and Norah found what they were looking for, but if she did what Ibraham had ordered, she might too.

* * * *

Ibraham stared at the smiling woman seated across from him and tried to make sense of what she’d said. When he’d offered to head off Rose’s mother, he hadn’t been expecting the pint-size interrogator to drag him into a corner booth. Nor had he anticipated what she wanted to discuss. He couldn’t even blame the drink he’d bought her for the odd request she made, since the cola contained no alcohol.

To make sure he understood what Mrs. Whittman had just suggested, he asked, “You want me to marry your daughter?”

Viola laughed and shook her head, her blue eyes twinkling exactly like Rose’s did when she teased him. “Oh, heavens no, honey. I want you to…” She paused as if trying to find the appropriate words. “I want you to bed her, boink her, do the wild thing with her. You know, get tangled up in the sheets, have some hot, sweaty fun. Engage in sexual relations.” Her eyes drifted from his face to his bare chest, then back up. A sigh filled with memories and wanting left her lips.

For the first time in a very long time, Ibraham felt himself blush. Of all the things he’s expected to hear from Mrs. Whittman, an invitation to do exactly what he’d fantasized with the lady’s only child was the last thing he’d expected. “Mrs. Whittman, I’m—”

“Call me Viola.” A deep well of knowledge peered out at him from her azure gaze. “Ibraham, every woman deserves an adventure in her life. One wild, insane act that they can pull out and smile over as they carry on their quiet, normal lives being the same wife, the same mother, the same person everyone imagined she’d become. My Rose has been a good girl her whole life, and she deserves a little fun.”

Ibraham didn’t doubt that for one moment, but he knew there was more to Rose than what was on the surface. “What about what Rose wants? Don’t you want more for her than a one-night stand?”

Her laughter drew the attention of several patrons, but Ibraham only noticed how much she sounded like Rose.

The older woman reached out one soft hand and patted his wrist. “Oh, Ibraham, darlin’, I’m sure you’ve got stamina for more than one night.”

That made him chuckle. “Yes, Miss Viola, more than enough stamina, but don’t you want Rose to marry, have a family? What does her father say about your plan?”

“Of course I want that for Rose, but she has plenty of time to find the right man and settle down. As for her father, he’d more than likely agree with me. My husband, Joe, passed five years ago, and there were things he always planned to do—someday. I don’t want Rose waiting for someday. She needs more to keep her warm at night than a blanket, and right now, I’m thinkin’ you’re just the man to get her started.”

An ominous warning stirred the hairs on the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure if he liked being considered for the role of Mr. Right Now, especially when there was more to his interest in Rose than simple sex. “Shouldn’t you be leaving this to Rose? Let her find her own men?”

Viola’s eyes narrowed, and her shoulders went back as if he’d set something odoriferous before her. “My Rose is a good girl, Mr. Rajonovich. She doesn’t need
men
. Just one. For right now.”

Ibraham fought the urge to chuckle. Viola used the same incorrect pronunciation of his last name as Rose. He didn’t bother correcting her, and Viola continued without waiting for him to comment.

“What Rose needs is an adventure. Some fun to remind her that there’s more to having a man in your life than picking up his dirty socks and another plate for dinner.”

Before he could respond to her vehement explanation, Deacon Bishop stepped up to the table.

“I hate to interrupt, Master V, but your presentation has been moved forward. Cowboy carried off a pretty little blonde, so Master Damian canceled the rope demo.”

“Thanks, Priest.” Ibraham waited until the other dom had moved away before he turned to Rose’s mother. “I have to go, but can I have a day or two to think your offer over?”

Viola nodded.

Every step he took away from the table, Ibraham fully expected the Powers That Be would strike him down with a bolt of lightning for his lie. There was no need to think anything over. He’d made his decision the moment he saw Rose in the club. Hell, the second he’d stripped her pants off her in her shop the night before he’d begun the steps to stake his claim. If she did as he told her, he’d be enjoying the favors of Mrs. Whittman’s daughter in less than five hours. His steps slowed. Or perhaps he’d be showing her why her favors were so valuable to him. Rose didn’t need a Mr. Right Now; she needed him, and she’d get him—as soon as she learned that her body was as beautiful a treasure as the heart beating in her chest.

Turning his mind to his demonstration, Ibraham was disinclined to use any of his regular volunteers. Unattached subs didn’t appeal, not with the prospect of having Rose under his control soon. He glanced around the club and spotted Rachel and her pet, Celia, near the bar. Perhaps the domme would be willing to lend him her sub for his presentation. He moved toward the pair, all the while formulating his plans for what he’d do once he held Rose in his arms again.

* * * *

Viola watched Ibraham move into the crowd and approach two women near the bar. Having completed what she set out to do, it seemed only sensible that she relax and await her friends’ return. A quick glance at her watch assured her she had ninety minutes, but she doubted Betty Jo and the others would take that long, especially since their girls had slipped out of the club already.

After seeing the way Rose responded to Ibraham and the way he’d come to her daughter’s rescue by distracting her, Viola was sure the boy was perfect for her Rose. She’d been amused by his stunned reaction to her request. “Why do young people persist in believing older people have forgotten what love and passion are like?” She muttered the question with a shake of her head.

“It’s not like those parts dry up and blow away, like they have an expiration date or some such nonsense. A person in their fifties, sixties, heck even their seventies, is just as capable of enjoying sex and romance as a person in their twenties and thirties.” She took a sip of the drink Ibraham had purchased for her. “I’m startin’ to think that saying that youth is wasted on the young isn’t too far from the truth, because from what I’ve seen”—she glanced at the milling crowd—“children tend to squander the opportunities presented to them.”

“Still talking to yourself, eh, mouse?”

The voice set Viola’s heart racing in her chest. She had imagined it any number of times—in daydreams and nighttime fantasies—over the last twenty-seven years, but she never thought she’d actually hear it again.