Siren in the City by Sophie Oak
Jeremy shot Abby a calculating glance. She remembered him from earlier. He’d been the one to deliver dinner. She didn’t like the gleam in his eyes. There wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it, however. What could he really do? Screw up their room service?
She turned away from Jeremy, who was talking to someone else now, a big, bald guy. A scene caught her eye. There was a woman in pigtails and a school girl uniform laid out over the knee of a much older man. Her bare ass was up in the air, and he spanked her vigorously. She howled her outrage.
“That’s okay?” She felt a little uncomfortable with the screaming the school girl was doing. She turned back and noted the horny ad guys had their secretary between them now. “Holy crap.” She looked up at Sam. “Do we look like that?”
Sam inspected the scene carefully. “Naw, baby, me and Jack are a hundred times better looking than those two.”
“And she doesn’t have your boobs,” Sally said with a critical eye. “As for the woman in the classroom, she specifically requested the full Britney Spears.”
“Oh,” she mouthed, not sure how to respond to that.
Sam was still watching the office scene. “I think my anal technique is way better than his.” He hissed lightly. “I never pop in and out like that. It should be a smooth glide. We’re way prettier, baby. See, you would know this if you let me tape it like I’ve been begging you to.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That is not happening, Samuel Fleetwood. I know that would end up on YouTube.” Something Sally had said finally penetrated. “Do you honestly think my boobs are nicer than hers? Hers seem perkier.”
“Silicone,” Sally and Sam said at the same time.
Abby turned her head to get a good view. Sure enough, they were fake.
Sally leaned over. “Yours are so much prettier than hers. I would like to play with them.”
She lightly brushed her lips against Abby’s. Abby felt Sam get hard from two feet away.
When Sally pulled back, she looked at Abby as though really seeing her for the first time. Her eyes widened. “You’re wearing the rose. Are you sure you want…”
“Since when do subs play openly on the floor?” A large, obviously dominant man was standing over them. He was joined by an equally massive friend. Both topped out well over six four. One had shaved his head along with all his body hair. He was the one Jeremy had been talking to. The other was a strikingly attractive man with long dark hair and bright blue eyes. Though the bald guy was slightly bigger, Abby had no doubt who was really in charge. The dark-haired man reeked authority. He reminded her a little of Jack.
Sally hit the ground, sinking to her knees. It was a feat of grace in that tight miniskirt. Sally’s eyes were downcast, her palms open on her thighs.
“What’s going on, Sally?” The dark-haired, blue-eyed man stared down at the blonde. His expression conveyed his dismay. “Are you regressing? I’m going to have to tell Julian about this. He’ll be so disappointed.”
Sam slipped his hand into Abby’s. He started to pull her away, but Abby held her ground. She wasn’t going to leave Sally to the mercy of men who didn’t look like they had any. Even if the blonde had tried to blow both of her husbands.
“She was talking to us.” She stared up at the dark-haired man.
“Abby,” Sam barked.
Big Baldie’s eyes focused on her, and she suddenly knew how a fluffy bunny rabbit felt when a wolf caught sight of it. “No one gave you permission to speak, sub.”
She felt Sam pulling at her.
“Where’s your collar, little one?” Dark Hair asked.
“She’s new,” Sam said quickly. “I haven’t gotten her one yet.”
Baldie laughed long and loud. “Why the hell would you buy her a collar? Did her master send you out and you forgot?”
“She’s mine,” Sam said firmly.
Dark Hair shook his head, exchanging a weary look with his friend. “Tourists. How did you get in? It would be best if you left. I’m sorry, you’re not a Dom. You’re far too soft, and no Dom here is going to believe you can hold her. You’re going to cause me an enormous amount of trouble if you stay. I need to take this one to her rooms. It will be up to her Master to decide her punishment.” He sighed. “Given some of the play we have going on this evening, I don’t want to leave the two of you alone. Maybe you should come with me.”
“I’ll take the redhead, Leo.” Baldie gave her a leering glance that left Abby feeling slightly unclean. “She’s lovely. I’ll show her how a real Dom treats a slave.”
“Don’t you lay a hand on her.” Sam pulled Abby back against him, his arms forming a cage around her. Every muscle in his body seemed tense and ready for action. Abby felt her heart speed up. This could get bad.
Leo reached down and pulled on Sally’s collar. She immediately got to her feet. “You should be glad Jeremy told me you were slipping, dear. If you had managed to get these two back to a room, Julian would have thrown you out.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Abby felt Sam squeeze her arm but continued anyway. She’d never been able to handle injustice. She tried to catch Sally’s attention, but the sub had her head down. She didn’t protest as Leo pulled on her collar. If Sally couldn’t speak up for herself, then Abby would. “Jeremy’s a weasel. She totally had permission to try to seduce me. Not that it was going to work. Sally, why don’t you tell him?”
Leo turned his now cold blue eyes on her. “She isn’t speaking because I haven’t given her permission to speak. She knows her place in this club, sub. Something your Dom obviously hasn’t taught you.”
She had the sudden realization that a good many people were no longer watching the scenes playing out around them. She’d managed to make her own scene.
“Knees, sub,” Leo said coldly.
She swallowed and fought the urge to get on her knees. If she did that, it would make Sam look bad. This Leo guy wasn’t her husband, and he wasn’t her lover. She didn’t mean anything to him, and she had no rights concerning this man. In her mind, that meant he had no rights over her, either.
“No.” She was pleased with how steady her voice was.
“We’re going back to our room.” Sam tried to pull her back.
Baldie reached out to grab her. “Too late, sub. No one talks to Master Leo that way and gets away with it.”
“Damn it!” Sam exclaimed. “Jack’s going to kill me.” He shoved Abby back, and with a disgusted sigh, threw the first punch.
She fell on her ass just as all hell broke loose.
Chapter Eight
Jack followed Julian into the bar level of the club. Vaguely Jack noted the slight changes Julian had made. The carpet looked new. He shrugged. He’d never paid much attention to decor. He’d spent his nights prowling the dungeon and the playroom. That had been a long time ago. He wondered if it would be different coming here as a guest. He and Sam had come several times but almost always to find a woman to share for the weekend. Ménage was common among this set. In the past they would hook up with a woman on a Friday night then spend the weekend with her in one of the upstairs suites.
Abby had changed all that.
Still, it might be fun to bring her here. They could take her downstairs and get her hot and bothered watching the scenes. Then, when she couldn’t take anymore, he’d get her in the elevator and give her the pounding she deserved. He’d carry her into their suite, and he and Sam would make sure she couldn’t walk come Monday morning. She wouldn’t have to, he vowed. He’d just carry her around.
What was he thinking? Jack shook his head in disgust. She’d been sick not two days before and he wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t walk? He remembered the promise he’d made to himself in the hospital. He’d promised that if he lived, he would try to be a better man. He wouldn’t be so demanding. He would have the type of marriage that Abigail deserved and be the friend Sam needed.
He’d done what he promised, so why did he feel like he was losing them?
Julian o
“I modeled it after the old White’s Club in London.” Julian led Slater in. “I did some meticulous research.”
Slater relaxed once the door closed. The dining room was elegant, with none of the overt sexuality that hung over The Club. His brown eyes took in the sumptuous furnishings with approval. “Yes, this looks a bit like an old-world gentleman’s club. I have to say, I prefer that to the new ones. A gentleman’s club used to be a place where men got away from women, not merely found ones with less clothing.”
He got the feeling Slater didn’t get laid much.
Julian pulled out a wooden box. He flipped open the top. “Cubans.” He offered up the rich-smelling cigars. Slater took one. Jack was sorely tempted. Julian only bought the best.
“No,” he said regretfully. “My wife would kill me.”
He sank down into the chair. His stomach was in knots. They still hadn’t called back. He was starting to get worried. He was going to refuse the cigars, and he wouldn’t have a second drink. He needed a perfectly clear head. It would take a couple of hours to get home. He knew he should stay the night, but he would never get to sleep without talking to them. He didn’t sleep much, anyway, not anymore. If he was going to be miserable, at least he could do it at home where he knew the people he loved were in the next room.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Jackson, but your wife isn’t here,” Julian said, taking that first puff. The rich aroma filled the air.
“It’s easy to see you’ve never been married.” He was going to have to change clothes and take a shower to get rid of the smoky smell. “Abigail’s always here.”
Slater laughed but shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “This is why I never married. Why would I want some woman dictating my every move? I thought you were into this lifestyle, Mr. Barnes.”
“Which lifestyle is that?”
Slater’s voice went low. “The bondage thing. The BS thing.”
“Yes, Slater, I’m into the bullshit thing.” He would have left it at that, but Julian went into teaching mode. Sometimes he thought if Julian hadn’t been such a righteous pervert, he would have done well at a university.
“BDSM,” Julian corrected. He poured a few fingers of Scotch into a glass. Jack waved him off. Julian shrugged and continued. “It stands for bondage, sadism, and masochism. Alternately it also stands for bondage, Dominance, and submission. I believe Jackson and I are more in line with the latter. We both prefer our lovers to be submissive.”
“Speak for yourself,” he said. “Abigail isn’t very submissive.” Except in the bedroom. A vision of her tied to the whipping chair, her body laid out and open to him, assaulted his brain.
“Really?” Julian asked, looking at him seriously. “I’m surprised to hear that. I would have said you could never be happy in a relationship that didn’t involve submission on some level. I know you’re not a full-time Dom, but I assumed any sexual relationship would be in the lifestyle.”
“I can be vanilla. No woman wants to be dominated all the time.” He could be demanding. It wasn’t fair to ask that of her.
“That has not been my experience.” Julian was studying him. Jack was starting to get nervous. The last thing Jack needed was Julian trying to get into his head. “I’ve found many women enjoy it on some level, even if it is only play. They enjoy the feeling of protection a Dom can give them. A Dom can shelter a woman from everything, even her own insecurities.”
“Stay out of my marriage, Julian.” He stared at his mentor, trying to get him off the damn subject.
“If only I could,” Julian muttered under his breath.
Slater took a long swallow of his Scotch. “Well, I don’t understand the appeal of any of it. I wouldn’t want a woman to be dependent on me for everything.”
“You’re not a Dom,” Julian said shortly, dismissing the man. He looked like he wanted to pursue the conversation with Jack.
Jack steeled himself to have a lengthy discussion with his old mentor about keeping out of his business. He was saved by the door opening.
He sat up a little straighter as a young man walked in the room. He was pretty sure it was a young man. His hair was strangely shaped. It was black and swept over his face like it was windblown, yet he didn’t try to shove it back. It stayed in place, and Jack realized this kid used hair spray. He had bangs. Why the hell did that boy have bangs? He was dressed in a god-awful purple V-neck T-shirt. It was the type of shirt that looked hot on Abigail. It showed off her breasts. The young man in front of him didn’t have breasts, so why did he need to show off his milky white chest? Jack’s eyes moved down the kid’s body, widening in horror. The jeans he was wearing looked like someone had painted them on the man. They were black and fit him like a second skin. He completed the look with a skinny belt that was draped over his hips. It did nothing to keep his pants up. Hell, he didn’t need a belt to do that. That man might never get the pants off, but the belt was obviously some form of decoration. Despite the low light of the room, he was wearing a pair of sunglasses.
This was his brother?
The young man swaggered up to the trio. He glanced around the room with a look of cool disdain. “I’ve seen way better clubs than this. You Lodge?”
Julian nodded. Jack couldn’t mistake the small smile on Julian’s face. He was extremely amused. Jack was glad someone was having a good time. “Yes, I’m Julian Lodge.”
The young man turned to Jack. “Since I know that asshole in the back, that must make you Jack Barnes. I suppose I expected you to show up in a cowboy hat fresh off the range. Did you leave your horse outside?”
He stood up. Though the young man was almost as tall as Jack, he had the slight build of a teen, compared to that of a man. Jack had fifty pounds on him at least. The kid needed some work to put muscle on his frame.
“I left my horse on my ranch,” he said. “What the hell is wrong with you, son? Didn’t they teach manners in those fancy schools you went to? Take those damn sunglasses off when you’re inside.”
The sunglasses came off in a flash, and Jack heard Slater’s shocked gasp.
“I thought they looked cool.” Lucas Cameron sounded far less arrogant now.
“Is the fact that your pants are two sizes too small supposed to be cool, too?”
“Yes.” Lucas self-consciously pulled them away from his waist. They didn’t budge. He seemed stunned that someone was talking to him the way Jack was. Whoa, without the sunglasses, the face staring at him looked awfully familiar.
“Jackson, it’s like looking at you ten years ago.” Julian’s focus switched between the two. It was obvious Julian was making comparisons. “I’ve seen him in photographs, but the two of you together, the resemblance is astonishing.”
Yes, his half-brother greatly resembled him. There were, of course, a few differences. “Are you wearing makeup, son?”
“It’s just a little guy-liner,” Lucas mumbled.
“I don’t know what that is, but my wife wears something like that. I don’t think that’s meant for men.” He was not able to keep the horror out of his voice.
Lucas suddenly stood up straight, as though surprised at his own actions. “I wouldn’t expect a cowboy to know what’s fashionable. That monkey suit you’re wearing is boring.”
He hated it, too. “I find it to be confining. But at least it fits.”
“I didn’t come here to talk fashion with you, Mr. Barnes,” Lucas said, puffing himself up. His dark green eyes narrowed. “I came here to talk business. Sorry, that Neanderthal you sent out to pick me up didn’t scare me away, Lodge. Now, what the hell is Slater doing here? Who invited my father’s flunky?”
“I came down here to make sure you don’t ruin yo
He suddenly wondered if everyone treated Lucas this way.
For some reason, Lucas reminded him of Sam. He sat back down, choosing, for the moment, to simply observe. Maybe Julian was right and there was more to all of this than simple brattiness and greed. He took in the arrogant set of Lucas’s eyes. It didn’t match the slump of his shoulders. His feet were close together, while his arms were crossed. He was protecting himself. It was almost as though Lucas wanted to fall into himself. Yet, he was standing here in a group of authoritative men, trying to blackmail them. It was an interesting quandary.
“If he’s so concerned about his political future, then he should have paid me off,” Lucas said. Jack heard a lot of bravado behind the statement, but a surprising lack of will.
“Your father isn’t a fool.” Slater nearly spat while he spoke. He got into Lucas’s space. “He knows you’ll never stop asking him for money. Hasn’t he paid enough?”
Lucas’s lip curled up, but there was nothing humorous about his expression. “I give him all the free publicity he can handle.”
“Yes, the recent articles on your various drug addictions and close calls with the law did wonders for his chances in the primaries,” Slater shot back.
“Well, he had my sister to help. Didn’t she recently graduate from Harvard?”
“With her Ph.D. in law. She’ll have a judgeship in no time. Your brother is already a state senator. They make your mother and father proud. They’re assets. What’s wrong with you? You’ve had every advantage, and yet all you seem capable of is doing drugs and having perverse sex. There’s a rumor out there that you’re gay.”
“I’m not gay,” Lucas protested with a sneer. “Of course, I’m not straight, either.”
Slater rolled his eyes. “I came here because I thought you needed a chaperone. You should never be allowed in this club. It isn’t proper for anyone. Places like this shouldn’t exist, if you ask me. It could truly hurt your family if you were caught here.”