What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) (12 page)

A light graze over her mound through the lace of her panties felt good, but was in no way what she wanted, what she needed. She whimpered with frustration.

“I told you in the beginning, nothing beneath your panties and if you wanted more you’d have to ask for it.” Broad fingers found the wet strip of lace over her clit and pressed against it. “This was a limit we set, Angie. I need to be clear.” There was a long pause as the wide pads of his fingertips kept up the torturous pressure. At length, he repeated, “Ask, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

“T, I can’t stand it another minute. Please, slip your hand inside my panties and touch me. Let me come, please, Sir.”

“Good girl.” The lash stopped and her whimper of disappointment was unmistakably clear. “Spread your legs.”

Her feet immediately moved apart and she canted her hips, wordlessly begging for more as she obeyed. His hand slid down the flat of her belly and dipped beneath the lace. “Wider, Angie. Let me in.”

Without thought, she separated her feet further and was rewarded by his fingers sliding over her lower lips. At the same time, a stroke of the lash fell across her ass. She didn’t know how to move, forward onto his searching hand or back to take more of the wickedly divine flogger. She cried out as his fingers circled her pulsating nub, moving quickly past it to glide into her channel, one boldly entering at first, joined soon by another. The thump of the lash on her ass drove her hips forward sending him deeper. His thumb found her clit, working in tandem with his magical fingers, pushing her rapidly toward a climax.

Once again, she cried out.

“Let go, beautiful,” he ordered. She didn’t need to be told twice and came apart in his arms. Soaring high as he predicted in one of the most intensely pleasurable orgasms she’d ever experienced.

Distinctly aware of his fingers, gently stroking her pussy, running lightly over her lips, occasionally skimming over her hypersensitive clit as she came down, she barely registered the flogger had stopped. A moment later she lost his hand between her legs. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he leaned against her, his body pinning her to the cross. The next she knew, her wrists were free, hanging limply by her side. Like her arms, her legs were rubbery.

Something soft was draped around her body and strong arms lifted her.

“Sir?”

“Shh, darlin’, I’m taking care of you.”

Believing wholeheartedly that he would, she snuggled into his embrace and let him carry her where he would.

*****

Coming out of her doze slowly, she didn’t open her eyes right away, taking in the sounds around her instead. Muted conversations in the foreground mixed with the thwacks and thuds of lashes and paddles, and the subsequent cries of passion and erotic pain. Music in the background, which she recognized as the ethereal sounds of Delirium’s Euphoria. Most prominent, was the strong thump of a heartbeat beneath her ear. Of course, the steady pulse belonged to T, as did the low familiar voice that rumbled in the hard muscled chest where she rested her cheek.

“Are you coming back to me, beautiful?”

Her lids opened, through a haze of lassitude she gazed up at him. The slight smile playing around his lips was as tender as the hand that softly slid down her cheek.

“I think so, Sir.” She blinked, trying to focus. “That was amazing.” Her spontaneous remark was followed by a flood of heat to her cheeks as memories of what he’d done to her, of what she’d asked him to do came back in a rush.

“None of that now.” His deep voice sounded much like a growl as his hand caught her chin and his eyes blazed down at her. “You found pleasure. It was fucking beautiful. Enough said.” He shifted her in his lap until she sat more upright, handed her an open bottle of water and ordered, “Drink.”

Dutifully, she did so. As she sipped, enjoying being nestled securely in his lap, she surveyed the large room. She didn’t get far as her gaze collided with Megan’s, who was frowning at her from the other end of the couch. Looking far less relaxed, she too sat on Cap’s lap, who had a long arm snaked casually around her hips while he spoke to a man standing beside the couch.

Angie squirmed beneath her cousin’s obvious disapproval.

“Cap?” T waited until Tony’s head swung around. “Kindly do something about your submissive. She’s glaring at mine and spoiling our aftercare.”

Megan’s mouth flew open, snapping her head toward T in surprise. The next second she was scowling over his betrayal.

“Now she’s glaring at me. You know, since I’ve been back, there’s been a lot of that going on.”

“Indeed,” Cap murmured. To Megan, he ordered, “Eyes on me, Angel.”

Her attention immediately refocused.

“First, you disrupt the lounge with an argument with your sister,” Cap began with a displeased frown, “now you’re interrupting aftercare. You’ve already got two dozen coming once a station is available. You better quit before your tally has to be broken into multiple sessions.”

Angie watched as Megan’s demeanor instantly changed, curling her body into his and laying a hand on her husband’s broad chest.

“I’m sorry, Captain. Forgive me?”

“Of course, but forgiveness and canceling a well-earned punishment are two different things. You know that.” Lifting his chin toward the leather bag at T’s feet, he asked, “Have you got a paddle with you, bud? I have DM duty later and with LBD night in the lounge, I wasn’t expecting to need mine.”

“Sure do. Although in the past few years that I’ve known Megan, I can’t think of a time when you haven’t needed your bag.”

“Hey!” Megan protested as T shifted forward and fished around in his bag, which seemed to magically follow him around and appear whenever he needed it.

“Quiet.” Cap ordered, although without much bite. “He’s right. You know it. I know it. Hell, everyone in the entire club knows it.”

T grinned as he produced a clear plastic paddle with holes and passed it over to Cap, the whole while Angie sat in silence, watching the interplay with fascination.

“Look, baby,” Cap said as he accepted the proffered implement. “He’s got one like ours.”

“That’s because you passed them out like Santa Claus does candy canes last Christmas.”

“I did, didn’t I?” he acknowledged with a broad grin, weighing the paddle and giving a few practice swings while continuing tongue in cheek. “Lexan, when you care to give the very best.”

“FYI,” Megan grumbled, directing her comment to Angie. “Watch out for the very best. It stings like a mother—” Her name rumbling in a low warning gave her pause. She clearly reconsidered her choice of words as she continued. “It stings like the devil. I hate that damn paddle. In fact, I think it might
be
the devil. It doesn’t burn. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

T and the few others standing nearby who were watching the couple’s interactions chuckled along with Cap. Her big boss surprised a gaping Angie with a wink as he shifted Megan to her feet. “Apologize to Master T and his sub, Angel.”

“Sorry for interrupting aftercare, Master T, Angie.”

“Very nice. Now, let’s grab that vacant bench over there and get you spanked before another smart ass comment slips out and you earn more.” Cap tossed his petite wife over his shoulder, ignoring her squirming protests other than to deliver a swift crack of his huge palm across her ass as he carted her off.

Angie stared after them in amazement.

T patted her cheek. “Don’t fret. They go well together. She keeps him on his toes with her antics and sass while he calls her on it every time.”

“Every time?” Angie knew they played and that Megan got spanked; she was very vocal about it. She was also full of piss and vinegar, always had been. Angie imagined that equated to a lot of spankings.

“Yep,” T replied. “But she loves it and he loves giving it to her, so as I said, they go well together.”

“This is all very strange.”

“Hm… I hope strange doesn’t include what happened on the cross a few minutes ago, little bit. That was nothing short of beautiful.” He dipped his head and kissed her lips softly. “I told you my lash would have you soaring.”

“No one likes a braggart, Sir.”

“You flew and you loved it. Admit it.”

Although her cheeks burned bright she remained silent. It wasn’t lost on her that he got her off in spectacular fashion, yet made no demands himself, despite the evidence of his arousal pressing hard into the back of her thigh. She looked up at him, impressed that he was honoring her limit on no sex. Though she hadn’t ruled out touching, which he’d done quite thoroughly during the height of the scene, but he’d made sure that she was the one who requested that intimacy before going further.

He kissed her nose. “All right, little sub. Don’t admit it, but you flew tonight, in more ways than one. We both know that I’m right.” Lifting her off his lap, he steadied her with his hands on her waist. Then, he produced her dress which had been draped across his bag. The elusive attendants at work, she supposed. “I think you’ve had plenty for tonight. Get dressed. We’ll have a drink in the lounge and catch Elena’s last set. Afterward, I’ll see you home. We’ve got an early run planned in the morning.”

She groaned, not liking the sound of that. After she stepped into her dress, she shimmied it up her body beneath the cover of the blanket. Slipping the arms through the sleeve holes and fitting it over her shoulders, she let the cover fall to her feet. Gathering her hair to one side, she gave him her back in an unspoken and universal request to be zipped up. He quickly obliged. When he was done, she spun and looked up at him with a plea.

“You’ve seen the girls in all their glory now, Sir.”

His surprise was followed by a quick grin as his eyes dipped to her chest. “I have, Angie, and I thank you for that.”

She lifted beleaguered eyes toward the ceiling as he chuckled. “My point is they are not compatible with running. Seriously, T.”

“Darlin’, your belly is flat and your thighs are sleek, although you have curves in all the right places, your body does not scream couch potato. How do you stay fit?”

Caught off guard by his flattering inventory of her body, she stammered a bit while warmth coiled in her belly. “Um… I, uh, swim four days a week at the gym.”

“You in a wet swimsuit? I’m in.” His eyes sparkled with an eager light as he draped an arm around her neck and guided her to the main doors, heading back to the lounge.

“It won’t be a bikini, T.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m
all
in.”

Quick as that, desire resurged between her thighs creating a flutter low in her belly. Falling into an easy rapport with him, she’d clearly forgotten where his hands had been thirty minutes ago. Holy crap! For all her avowals that it was only a job, she knew her heart was doomed.

Chapter Seven

Bright and early the next morning, Angie grabbed her towel out of her locker and after slamming it shut, spun the combination lock twice. As she moved down the aisle dreaming of another cup of coffee, her flip-flops slapped against her heels with a loud thwap on every step. Sluggish from a restless night while images of the prior evening replayed constantly in her brain, she’d probably need an entire pot to feel human again. When she had dozed off sometime around four o’clock, her dreams were interspersed with images of T strapping her to a cross and making her scream with ecstasy. When that wasn’t the featured attraction, she was haunted by the scene at her door, when he’d planted a brotherly kiss on her forehead as if unaffected by what he’d done to her near naked body. That was the image that made her lashes flutter open less than two hours later, her mind whirling in confusion, as she stared at the dark shadows on her bedroom ceiling.

She heaved a heavy sigh. In the course of a day, he’d gone from cool and aloof to sweet and attentive. They’d moved from co-workers to teacher and student, both at Rossi and at the club, then to lovers. Well, sort of lovers. What did you call a man who’d had his hands all over you, his fingers deep inside you, then in the end wanted to be best buds?

“This is his job, you fool,” she muttered to herself. “Did you really expect that one night with a newb would change his convictions and that he’d prostrate himself at your feet having fallen madly in love with you? Sheesh! What an ego.”

At the end of the row of lockers, she paused in front of the full-length mirror. Her utilitarian one-piece swimsuit wasn’t going to attract a second look from anyone. Mostly black, the boring, high-necked tank style suit was something her fifty-two year old mother would wear. The only detail an unexciting white racing stripe up each side. In a word, it was forgettable. She had a sexy bandeau bikini at home in eye-catching fuchsia, the mesh overlay covering as much as it revealed, including a great deal of cleavage, but she couldn’t very well swim laps in a strapless bikini top without both boobs popping out. It was adult swim hour at the fitness center, although she was quite sure that wasn’t what they had in mind.

As she stared at her reflection, she asked herself why it mattered.

“It’s not a date, idiot,” she muttered. Twisting to ensure neither ass cheek was hanging out, she eyed the exposed skin of her thighs and upper back. Amazingly, it was unmarked despite the number of lashes she took. Not a hint of pink remained. And why did that make her sad? She shook her head at that ridiculous notion and stomped out of the locker room.

As she approached the pool, she easily located T. He was surrounded by women, four in all. Two near her own age, one with graying hair, and one stunning knockout of indeterminate age. From a distance, Angie placed her anywhere from thirty to fifty. Her killer body was impressive with big tits, flat abs and toned thighs, all of which were bound to attract a second glance from T. Irritated by their fawning all over him, she was more put out with herself for caring.

He’s not for you, she reminded herself for the millionth time that morning. Without a greeting, she tossed her towel on a chair and kicked off her shoes. Selecting an empty lane, she dove in. Falling into a brisk, but steady pace, with each stroke she kept up an internal chant;
don’t lose your heart to Antonio Minelli.
At every flip turn, she reminded herself, he doesn’t have it to give.