She's All In: Club 3, Book 1 (15 page)

The leather sofas were occupied, but one of the chairs was empty. Dack folded his long frame into it and patted his thigh, looking up at her.

“Do I get to sit this time?” she asked over the music.

“Only if you do it quick,” he shot back. Meaning otherwise he’d make her lie across his lap again.

She shook her head but perched on his thigh. His big hands on her bare waist, he pulled her closer so she was leaning against his chest. Cold liquid splashed her wrist. She took another drink, a long one, and leaned forward to set the remainder of her drink on the small table by the chair. Lifting her wrist, she licked the sticky lime from her skin.

“You always drink that fast?” Dack asked, watching her mouth as he took another sip of his own margarita. She teased him, giving her wrist another swipe with her tongue.

“No, but I’d rather drink it than wear it.”

He cocked his head, eyeing her skimpy shirt. “Wouldn’t want that, ’cause you’re already wearing too much.” He took another sip and set his own drink down beside hers.

He looked up into her eyes, his gaze implacable in the shadow of his hat. Heat swirled down through her, tightening her nipples and dropping down deeper inside her. Oh, she loved that look. Was he going to ask her to slip out of her cutoffs? She was wearing a pair of nude lace bikinis that were more of a tease than a cover-up.

“I’m glad you’re here, Petal,” he said, his hand slipping down to cradle her bottom, his thumb stroking her bare thigh under the frayed edge of the denim. Oh, good, he was focused on her ass, not her breasts.

She snuggled closer, her hand on his chest. “So am I.”

“Good.” He bent his head and kissed her, his lips warm, contrasting with the edge of cool lime and salt on his tongue. Daisy cocked her head, kissing him back eagerly. She slipped her arm around his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest.

He kissed her for a long, heady moment. Daisy sank into the kiss. She’d been waiting all week for his mouth, she realized. The brush of his facial hair on her skin, his warm lips exploring hers with slow pleasure, the tangle of his tongue with her own. She moved closer to him and shivered with anticipation as she felt him shift beneath her, a long stiff shape poking her hip.

He raised his head, and his hands lifted to pull her arms gently from his neck. He looked down at her breasts. “That was nice, but you have way too many clothes on,” he said. “This time I want you to take your top off for me, Petal.”

Daisy’s stomach clenched. She wriggled her bottom enticingly on his hard thighs. “Wouldn’t you rather I took my shorts off?”

His face hardened, his gaze going cool. “No, or I would have said to do that.”

Daisy froze. Oh crap, this was it. She swallowed and forced herself to lift one hand to the ties beneath her breast. Around her, people laughed and danced and played. Someone behind her was getting a spanking, and farther on a man was groaning with pleasure, the slap of flesh rising in the lull between songs.

She fiddled with the ties and bit her lip, giving him a pleading look. “I’d really, really rather not.” Not yet.

He brushed her hands aside and began to untie her top himself, his gaze holding hers. His warm, calloused fingers brushed her midriff. He was challenging her, letting her know that this time there was no choice for her.

Her stomach jumped again, fear squeezing her arousal in its icy fist. Daisy shook her head and shoved his hands away. She scrambled off his lap. “I-I can’t. I just—I can’t.”

Tears blinded her, mercifully washing away the sight of his bearded face, his mouth flattening into a hard line.

Turning, she fled into the crowd. She didn’t stop running until she was in the women’s lounge.

Dack watched his pretty little blonde dodge through the crowd—running away from him. Running from his domination. A few of the people nearby looked at him and then away. He knew every one of them, and they knew him, knew he was one of the owners, one of the head doms here.

His gut clenched. Took a lot to embarrass him, but this definitely qualified. Daisy had bolted and left him alone and wanting, although his arousal was fast disappearing. She’d challenged him again, and this time she appeared to want to have nothing to do with him. Nothing like rejection to cool a guy off.

Goddamn it, what was it with her? Yeah, her tits weren’t all her, he could tell that. Augmented breasts not only looked different than natural ones, they felt different. Firmer somehow. That turned some people off.

Not him. Hell, she was hot and gorgeous, and if a bigger rack helped her feel sexy, that was fine with him. He had nothing against people having a little work done. But if she’d had plastic surgery to feel more attractive, then why the hell didn’t she want him or anyone else looking at the augmentation?

Her breasts were pretty, as much of them as he’d seen in the dimness of the back bedroom the weekend before. And she’d liked it when he put his hands on them and played with her nipples, so she wasn’t in pain. She’d mentioned scars, but he hadn’t felt the ridges of any scar tissue on her silky skin.

Damn, he’d never understand women. And right now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to try. But she was in his club, and she was upset. And as much as he hated women pitching a fit, the thought of her crying alone in the bathroom or her car brought out the protective side of him. A big part of being a dom was caring for those who were submissive.

He shoved himself upright and went in search of help.

His luck turned for the better. Twila, one of his favorite fem dommes, was at the bar waiting for her girlfriend. The tall redhead had a fake rack too, and she was displaying her D-cups tonight in a tight leather vest, matching chaps over bikini bottoms on her slim hips. She grinned at him as he walked up, but her look quickly changed to concern. “What’s up, big guy?”

He motioned her aside, away from the crowd at the bar and explained what had happened. With a grimace of sympathy, she followed him to the bathrooms. “You want me to bring her out to you?”

“Nah, I want you to talk to her, okay? If you can, uh, get her into the locker room.”

She frowned. “You gonna come in there?”

“No, but I was thinking I could listen from the connecting door to the janitor’s closet.”

Twila nodded. “This one’s special, huh?” she asked, acknowledging that he was going to a lot of trouble to draw out of Daisy whatever was bothering her.

She didn’t wait for a reply, and Dack was damn glad. How did he answer that? He wanted to dominate Daisy, and he wanted to fuck her. All friggin’ week, he’d thought about her when he laid down in his king-size bed at night, and she’d been the first thing on his mind when he woke with his usual morning wood. So, yeah, he guessed that made her special. Or maybe it just made her fuckable; he didn’t know.

He was scowling as he ducked around a partition and into the room where their janitorial supplies were stored. The men’s and women’s bathrooms were spacious, and both had shower facilities and adjoining locker rooms with a comfortable sitting area for members who wanted to chat without being out in the bar. The women’s side was done in soft peach and cream that coordinated with the wood paneling.

Dack would have yanked the membership of anyone caught doing what he did next, but this was an emergency—of sorts. He unlocked the door that led from the closet into the women’s locker room. Then he left it ajar just enough so he could see Daisy, huddled in a chair with her head in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking, and he could hear her soft sobs. The sound ripped at his guts.

Twila walked into the locker room and perched on the ottoman in front of Daisy.

“Hey,” Twila said gently, for her anyway. She had a low, husky voice that was made for raucous laughter and hollering across a softball diamond. She leaned her elbows on her knees. “You must be Daisy.”

His Petal looked up, swiping her face with her hand. His heart contracted. Ah, shit, her pretty face was wet, her eyes already red from crying. She nodded warily, her shoulders hitching with another sob.

Twila handed her a couple of paper towels. “I’m Twila. Friend of Dack’s.”

Daisy hid behind the paper towels, making a noise like a kicked puppy.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Twila asked her. “If that big bozo did or said anything, I’ll go kick his ass right now.”

Daisy must have given her a look of disbelief, because Twila laughed. “I’m a black belt. I can bloody his nose, anyhow.”

Daisy shook her head. “It-it wasn’t him,” she managed. “It’s m-m-me.”

Twila nodded. “So, you had some work done on your breasts, huh? Me too. Yours look really nice. You should be proud of how you look.”

“I-I am, but I—” She was off again, sobbing as if her little heart was breaking.

Dack clenched his fists, grinding his teeth together. He wanted to bust out of the closet and demand that she stop crying. Hell, he was ready to drop down on his knees and beg her to stop.

“So, are you sorry you had the work done?” Twila asked.

Daisy shook her head again. “No, but I-I had to.” She gulped in a big breath and looked at Twila, her tilted eyes flooded with new tears. “I had b-breast cancer. They t-took both of my—my breasts.”

Dack froze, his blood turning to ice. Very slowly, he leaned his forehead against the doorframe, recoiling when his hat bumped the door. He stood with his head bowed, his eyes closed. Shit, shit, shit.

“They took both of them?” Twila asked gently. “Radical mastectomy, huh? Girl, that’s rough.”

Rough? It was unbelievable, brutal. How the hell did women live through shit like that? The thought of his pretty, spunky Petal undergoing it made him want to throw back his head and howl.

Daisy nodded and then sobbed into her paper towels.

Twila cast a look of sympathy toward his hiding place, as if she knew what he was going through. Then she scooted over to the sofa beside Daisy and put one arm around her, ducking her head to peer into her face.

“Dack said they’re real pretty,” Twila said. “The plastic surgeons did a nice job for you. And you liked it when he touched you last time.”

As he watched, his Petal nodded. “But-but that was kind of in the d-dark, and no-no one else was looking. It was d-different.”

Twila nodded. “Well, yeah. But, Daisy, if private and in the dark are all you want, then…what are you doing here?”

Daisy took a long, sobbing breath. “I want…I want someone to help me just break through my fears.”

Twila looked frustrated, but her voice remained gentle. “What fears?”

“That…that I’m not a…a real woman anymore,” Daisy wailed. “It’s been m-months since I healed, but”—she waved a hand at her breasts—“I feel like these are a neon sign, telling everyone that I’m damaged goods.”

“Ah.” Twila nodded. “Gotcha.”

She sighed and patted Daisy on the back and then let her go, leaning back to cross one long leg over the other. “Daisy, what you have to remember is that everybody in this club has had a fight of some kind to get here. Most of us, we’re fighting what other people tell us we should feel and think and do. Society says one woman, one man, in the dark in a bed with wedding rings on.” She joggled her booted foot, and Dack could see her own agitation. He knew it wasn’t easy being gay, even in this liberal city.

“Maybe they’re right,” she went on. “For most people, I guess that works. But for me, it doesn’t. I’m not only gay, I’m a domme. Sounds like it doesn’t work for you either. Let me ask you this—did you like what you and Dack did together last time you were here?”

Daisy nodded, at first looking down. Then she lifted her head. Dack’s chest swelled with pride as she looked Twila in the eye, owning her feelings. “Yes. I did. It was…the hottest sex I’ve ever had.”

Twila grinned wickedly. “Dack’s pretty hot, all right. For a guy.”

Dack nearly snorted. He knew that dig was just for him.

But although Daisy was smiling, she was also nodding like she meant it.

“So.” Twila’s smile disappeared as she put her domme face on. “If you’re going to come to the club, and wear Dack’s collar, you need to be open to doing what’s asked of you. If you can’t do that, maybe this scene isn’t for you. But more than that, think about what you’re doing to Dack. If you come on to him, and then don’t follow through…that’s just a big tease, Daisy. And he deserves better than that.”

Daisy nodded, her mouth trembling. “Yes,” she agreed. “He does.”

Twila rose, and Daisy looked up at her. “Thank you,” she said.

Twila smiled at her. “Anytime. And remember, you are now more bodacious than the average woman. Use your power wisely.”

Daisy giggled, and it was a sweet sound.

Dack slowly eased backward, away from the door. Then his heel struck the wheel of a mop bucket, which clanged loudly against the wall. The mop in it hit the wall with a thud.

Shit. He grabbed the mop, set it upright, and then thunked a few cupboards for good measure, trying to sound like he was supposed to be in the room. Then he hustled out and closed the outer door.

“What was that?” Daisy flew off the sofa, staring at the door cracked open across the room.