Twist (Siren Publishing Allure) (7 page)

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Authors: Kat Barrett

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Twist (Siren Publishing Allure)
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“I plan on it. Skip the food, I don’t really want you serving me.” He waved the back of his hand at her in a gesture to move along. Amanda glared at him for a moment longer and then stormed across the club. Enar lifted his finger and motioned to one of the other waiters.

A young man walked over. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. Amanda has a bit of an attitude with me. I really don’t want her pissing in my food.”

He laughed. “She has been known to do that. My name is Logan. I will be happy to take your order.” He noticeably checked Lana out. “I am at your service for the evening if you need me.”

Enar put in their order, pulling Lana tightly into his chest. “Look around. Does anything strike your fancy or arouse you?”

She let her imagination drift as she observed the scenes playing out before her. “What is the deal with Amanda?”

“She was a plaything for about six months before I met Sue. She wanted more. I wasn’t that interested in her. I haven’t seen her since Sue died. I didn’t think she worked here anymore.”

Another young woman strode stealthily toward them, her tiny wraparound dress accenting her long, shapely legs. She sat down across from them, her eyes set on Enar. “How are you?”

“I am amazing, Jolie. This is Lana.”

“Good afternoon, Lana. Tell him to take that collar off and make you available for play.”

“I don’t think so,” replied Enar with a slight chuckle. Her nipped at Lana’s neck and then blew against the back of her ear. His hot breath against her newly moistened skin was enthralling. Lacing his fingers across her stomach, he relaxed slightly. “She is for my play only.”

A sharp whistle that Lana had only heard in Western movies sounded near her. Enar leaned forward, pushing Lana down with his body and shoving her under the table. She heard a sickening
thwack
, a sound that Lana connected to that of a leather whip tearing into skin, and then a woman’s scream. It went silent, and she peered out from her hiding spot and sighed in relief when Enar offered his hand, helping her to slide from under the table. His shirt was sliced open, but he didn’t seem to care. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

She frowned, taking a cloth napkin from the table and putting it to the bloody slice in his shoulder. She was stunned that he had sustained such an injury trying to protect her. Lana had an urge to jump into his arms, and hug him as tightly as she could. It might relay her gratitude, but she would also hurt him more. He touched her hand, smiling. Lana shifted her gaze slightly, her mouth opening in horror as she saw Jolie’s face. The woman’s cheek had been sliced and blood was dripping from her chin. Two of the waitresses were heading toward them with towels and ice. A burly man rushed past them, lifting Jolie in his arms and racing toward the door with her. Amanda lay at Enar’s feet, hogtied with the leather of a whip. “Amanda did this?”

“Yes. Would you like to learn how to use a whip? She was after you.”

Lana lifted the cloth from his shoulder. The blood had almost stopped. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“A little. Thank you for coming to my aid.”

“Thank you for saving my ass.” Her body gave an involuntary shudder. “How did she hit both of you?”

“I twisted when I pushed you under the table. Amanda hit Jolie in the face and me in the shoulder because she really doesn’t have command of a whip.”

He held out his hand to Lana and then grasped the handle of the whip with his uninjured arm and dragged both women across the club and down the stairs to the lower level. With incredible speed, he twisted the whip from Amanda’s body, lifting her and slamming her forward into a metal cage-like shackling table. Grabbing her wrists, he pushed them into a half-moon-shaped groove and then flipped two clasps upward with his thumbs, locking her hands into the vise. He slid the two cuffs to the outside. Amanda’s hands were stretched up and outward in what appeared to be an extremely painful position. “Do her legs!” he growled, pushing Amanda’s body forward with his own and locking her against the bars with his knees so she couldn’t kick Lana in the face. Lana bent and saw that there were similar larger clasps at the bottom of the table and made quick work of snapping Amanda’s ankles into them.

Amanda was livid, snarling and shouting obscenities as she thrashed against the restraints. Enar leaned forward, his lips to her ear, and whispered something that Lana couldn’t hear. A moment later, Amanda stopped moving, her body silent and still, her eyes closed as if resigning herself to her fate.

Enar pushed the whip into Lana’s hand and then moved behind her.

She looked down at the whip, thinking about the sight of his torn shoulder. Adrenaline was flowing through her veins, anger bubbling and boiling beneath the fear she had felt moments before.

His breath felt hot against her shoulder, his voice dark with anger. “Listen and do as you are told. You are not allowed to kill her. If I see that you can’t handle the whip or that you are cutting too deeply, I will take it away from you.” Enar positioned her hand under his own. “I want you to aim for the wooden block on the wall, trying to hit it with only the tip of the whip. It doesn’t require a great amount of strength, but it does require control. Flick your wrist like this,” he instructed, showing her how to place the strike. Lana shivered, the intensity of the sharp sound enthralling. Enar laughed. “Feel good?”

“Yes. I like the noise it makes.”

“Good, because I will be making it on your ass later.” He turned her wrist, controlling her as he showed her the different ways to lash the whip at the intended target. He stopped, walking by her and taking a couple of balloons from a bag. Enar blew them up, tacked them to the wall, and then returned to her back. “Now try to hit one without breaking it.”

Lana flicked the balloon. The rubber shifted, making an odd pinging sound, but it didn’t break. “Do it again.” She did as instructed, and then Enar pulled her to his chest, kissing her throat. He then turned her toward Amanda. “Now do it to her. Just remember what I said. Control!”

Lana stood for a moment, her head tilted in thought. She had a vision in her mind of a crosshatch pattern, and she let herself drift into a place of calm. She placed the first strike from Amanda’s shoulder down to her waist on an angle and then struck again. With each flash of the leather, the pattern became more visible until Lana could see nothing but what she was creating. Red crisscross lines appeared on Amanda’s back, the sound of leather hitting flesh thrilling her senses. She laid the last line and then dropped the whip, stunned to find that half the people in the club were watching her. She hadn’t felt Enar move away from her, but when she turned to find him, his face displayed nothing but pride.

Lana blinked in stunned acknowledgment of what she had done, her mind overloaded and foggy. Enar pulled her into an embrace, spinning her as he demanded the attention of her tongue. The kiss was rapture, the feel and taste of him oddly salty after the sweet chocolate kisses of the night before.

He lowered her feet to the floor, his smile brilliant. “Turn and take a bow. Then take a picture. That is beautiful.”

She frowned, turning slightly and receiving a round of applause from those gathered. When she didn’t remove her phone from her purse, Enar stuck his hand into the small bag and handed it to her. “Take a picture!”

Doing as she was told, she watched as Enar strode over, releasing the tethers. The woman dropped to the floor, the sound of her sobbing cutting through the fog in Lana’s mind and filling her with an odd sense of horrified gratification. Returning to her, Enar whispered, “What are you feeling? I can’t tell from your face.”

“I’m not sure.”

“I want her brought up on charges,” howled Amanda.

“For what?” Enar growled. “I’m sure that Jolie and her boyfriend, Mark, will do much worse when she gets out of the hospital. I suggest you use whatever energy you have left to get the hell out of town.”


You
were supposed to be
mine
!” she screamed, crawling to her feet.

“I was never yours. You are a nasty, money-hungry, self-centered bitch. We had some playtime and that was the end of it. Get over it, Amanda!”

“You chose that wimpy, weak child over me. She kept you from reaching your potential, and this hound will do the same.”

Lana saw the fury boiling in Enar’s eyes, his nostrils flaring as he spun, his fist arched to strike. Lana’s reached out and put her hand to his shoulder, stepping back with a sudden fear that he might turn his fury on her. She was also sure that if he connected with Amada’s face, he would probably break her neck. Enar hesitated, and Lana could feel the tension in his muscles, the skin quivering slightly as he fought to restrain himself. Amanda’s eyes were wide ovals as they filled with tears and she cowered before him. “I love you.”

“You are not worth my energy!” Enar turned, his eyes dark with quelled anger. He flipped Lana over his uninjured shoulder and without a word carried her out the door of the club and deposited her into the car. Lana buckled herself into the seat, mortified by what she had done, terrified of his anger, yet exhilarated and unbelievably aroused. She said nothing as he got into the car and started the engine, but her stomach began to protest loudly. Enar turned to her, gently caressing her skin. “Wow. Hungry?”

Giving him a slight nod, she lowered her gaze. Enar put his hand to her cheek, turning her face with his fingertips. “I wanted to hit her so badly, but I didn’t. I would
never
hit you in anger! What you did in there was amazing. Did you already know how to use a whip?”

“No.”

“I guess that some people are just naturals. You will be the talk of the club for the next month.”

He was pleased by what she had done, and despite the shivers of apprehension that spiked through her brain, Lana smiled. “Why?”

“I have never seen anyone create a work of art with a whip. I know Amanda didn’t appreciate it, but everyone else did.”

“I’m trying to rationalize out how whipping the shit out of her back was a good thing.”

“It was not a good sexual thing if that is where the distinction needs to lie. In this case, it was an eye for an eye, punishment at the hand of the intended victim. I’m sure when we go to the club again you will be asked to do a repeat performance. That will be a sexual thing. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry that happened.”

She glanced down at her palm, shivering again. “How many people have their blood on that whip?”

“Just mine and Jolie’s. Amanda was not bleeding, which made your control of the whip even more obvious.” Her skin was ghostly, and Enar blew out an irritated breath. “I saw her take the whip out of the sterile cabinet while we were talking. Then Jolie distracted me, and it didn’t occur to me what Amanda was going to do until I saw the flash in my side vision. All I could do was push you down and try to protect you. The club is normally a safe place to go and I thought it would be fun. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

“It was interesting.” A sly smile flashed on her lips. “If you want the honest truth, it was a rush.”

“That could be a problem.”

“Why?” her grin disappeared.

“I want you on the other end of a whip.” Her lips disappeared into her teeth as she tried to restrain a smile. “Ah, despite the guilt you are feeling, it aroused you, didn’t it?”

“A little.”

“Enough to want to try it in reverse?”

She felt her face glowing with color again but could do nothing to stop it. Lana had dreamed of being tied down and whipped after reading the S&M book, but to actually have it happen was a terrifying yet exhilarating idea. Her breathing was shallow and heavy, her chest heaving as she stared at him and nodded. His smile was brilliant, and he leaned, drawing her into a hard kiss, his tongue overwhelming.

Lana shivered, her stomach growling loudly despite the wet, aching flesh between her thighs.

Enar chuckled, leaning back and stroking her cheek. “I do believe your appetite for sex has been preempted by your stomach. Let’s go get some lunch.”

 

* * * *

 

Lunch was eaten at a fancy, exorbitantly expensive French restaurant. He ordered two chocolate pies to take home and then stopped at a store with blackened windows, asking Lana to stay in the car. A short while later, he walked out with a large paper bag and tucked it into the backseat. Lana guiltily snapped her phone shut to hide that the photo had captivated her attention. He settled into the driver’s seat. “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I figure correctly, you have been sitting here thinking. I never want you to be afraid of me, Lana. I can’t say that I will never cause you pain, but it will not be abusive or uncontrolled. Between the two of us, we will work out where your tolerances and boundaries lie. You have to believe that what I will do deliberately will leave you panting for more. You can tell me to stop and I will, because the act will never be accompanied by anger. Pick a safe word.”

She shrugged. “Thor.”

“Thor? Why Thor?”

“I don’t know. Wasn’t he a protecting god?”

“He was the god of thunder. I know you read about this, but just to clarify, a safe word means that things are getting too intense, too fast. You want me to slow down, you have changed your mind, and you are not sure you like what is happening, and we need to talk about it. Pick a stop word.”

“Help.”

“Pick something a little more obscure and indirect.”

“Willow.”

“Better. Why ‘willow’?”

“When I was a child, we used to have a willow tree in our back yard. The branches were long and the leaves thick. When I wanted to pretend the world had disappeared, I used to go hide in the tree. I always felt protected by the branches.”

“What did you need protection from?”

“We lived on a three-acre farm until I was nine years old. I knew everyone my age. I was also pudgy, naive, and plain. My parents ran into financial problems and they sold the house and the land, moving to New Haven. I was completely out of my element. We moved from a sprawling ranch on three acres into a two-floor house with a little backyard. The tree took up half the yard, but I always fought my parents when they wanted to cut it down. I was really smart, but it took me a while to figure out how to survive in a world where things were completely alien. I didn’t know anyone, and the kids picked on me unmercifully. I had never had to fight anyone, and suddenly I was getting into fights every day. After a while, I started winning and people started to leave me alone, but that was halfway through junior high school. My parents were always mad at me for getting in trouble. I was always in trouble. I spent a lot of time hiding under the tree. I would draw or do my homework there. Or just sit and daydream.”

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