Chapter One
She submitted without the comfort he’d expect to see from a woman who’d been coming to this club for over six months. In the main room, members were in all states of dress, some naked, some in leather, all comfortable with themselves. She dropped gracefully to her knees, legs spread wide, palms up, and yet he sensed her discomfort from across the darkened room. The sound of pleasure, of sex, of pain echoed from the play areas nearby. To most, it was familiar, comforting. It should be the same for her, but her posture was too stiff, her entire demeanor, too wary. Possibly because she played with a different man each time. Searching for something. For what? Decklan Dare wondered, not that he understood why he cared. But she called to him. Had from the first.
So he watched her. Just as he watched for her arrival, uneasy when too much time passed between her visits. She didn’t show up more than once, sometimes twice a month. He wasn’t here much more often but tried to time his visits with what he knew of her past schedule. Ridiculous. She was just another female and not one he’d ever played with, at that. But she was soft and rounded in just the right places, curvy in a way that appealed to him when no one before had ever reached that deep.
He shook his head and told himself to move on. Find someone else. Someone who knew he had no expectations but for the night. But he no longer used the club for pleasure. He’d tired of it awhile back. He came to relax here with friends, that’s all.
His gaze fell back to her. She shifted her body uncomfortably and Decklan frowned. He’d always disliked protocol. He’d never expected it. Didn’t need it. He’d bet she didn’t either. She just needed a man she believed in, that was apparent.
Not him. She looked too vulnerable for someone who took, gave the minimum, and walked away.
“Still fighting it?” his best friend, Max Savage, asked.
Decklan cocked an eyebrow. “Fighting what?” he asked although it was stupid to play dumb. Max knew him better than he knew himself.
“Yourself. Go play with her. Get it out of your system.” Max eased himself onto a barstool beside Decklan. “Better than watching her and wondering. Besides, you need to get laid.”
Decklan clenched his fist in his hand. His brother, Gabe, had told him the same thing. “You know as well as I do I can’t give her what she needs.”
Max barked out a laugh. “Like you’d even know what that is?”
“I can guess. Does she look like she’s found the right guy? She comes here and tries out different men. Obviously she’s not into exhibition, because she ends up in one of the private rooms for whatever her kink happens to be, he gets her off, and the next time, she’s on to the next guy.”
“Sounds perfect for someone who doesn’t do relationships,” Max said, gesturing to the bartender for his regular scotch on the rocks.
The club had a one-drink maximum. Alcohol and consensual play didn’t go well together. Decklan had already had his, ordered it the minute she’d walked in. One look at her curves, the full breasts, perfect indentation at her waist, and that luscious ass he’d like to squeeze, and only a drink would do.
“Or maybe she hasn’t found what she needs and she’s looking for a relationship of some kind,” Decklan said, guessing at what the beautiful woman was really in search of.
He didn’t do those. Had thought neither of the Dare brothers did those. He’d been wrong. Gabe had found Isabelle, and now Deck was left wondering if there was something wrong with him.
Max ran a hand through his longer blond hair. “You could always walk away after.”
That was the problem. Decklan was afraid one night with her wouldn’t be enough.
He scowled at the scene across the room. She still wasn’t comfortable, and Mike, her chosen man of the night, wasn’t a patient dom. The monitors had had to intervene more than once in a scene he’d performed, and Decklan watched the duo warily. Maybe that was what she sensed, what made her unable to find her peace.
But in position, her long blonde hair fell over her back. And Decklan’s groin tightened at the sight. Every cell in his body rebelled at the notion of the other man’s hands on her body, or worse, him thrusting into her wet heat. No doubt that would be the end result. Why else would she choose a private room for play?
“Let Mike fuck her tonight.” The bastard now tangled his hands in her hair.
“She doesn’t always sleep with the guys she plays with.” Max sounded pleased as he imparted the information, then took a long swig of his drink.
“How would you know?” Decklan asked, his shoulders stiffening even more.
The other man shrugged. “I negotiated a scene with her once.”
An unexpected wave of jealousy turned Decklan’s vision a blurry haze, and he grabbed Max’s shirt, only to have the man laugh in his face. “It was before you’d laid eyes on her.”
Feeling ridiculous, Decklan released his friend.
“And she wasn’t interested in having sex with me.” Max smoothed out his shirt, his grin still annoying the shit out of Decklan. “Does that change things for you? Maybe she’s not looking for anything but subspace and a couple of orgasms. Surely you can handle giving her that?”
“Fuck you, man.”
“Sorry. You’re not my type.” Max laughed.
Decklan closed his eyes, wondering if the lack of sex with her partners did make a difference. If she just came here to scene and relax, that he could handle. Maybe. But if she wasn’t sleeping with someone until she’d established a deeper level of trust, that was beyond his ability to give. But he didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this, watching, unable to get her out of his head.
The sound of raised voices caused his eyes to snap open.
Mike stood and she’d risen to her feet. Her full breasts nearly spilled over the leather corset binding her body with enticing hooks Decklan wanted to open one by one.
Mike said something.
She shook her head.
The dom’s face grew hard and he grabbed her hair.
Her eyes opened wide. “Red.” She said the word loud and clear.
Instead of releasing her, Mike yanked her hair harder.
In less than a heartbeat, with Max right behind him, Decklan was out of his chair and heading across the room. He wasn’t about to allow a woman to be taken advantage of in his presence. Especially not this woman.
* * *
“Come on, let me be the first one in this club to get into that pussy.” Mike, the dom Amanda had agreed to scene with tonight, pulled her hair harder than she liked, especially when she wasn’t near to being aroused by him.
“No.” She cringed at the thought. Hadn’t they already negotiated? Laid down the accepted rules and boundaries? She’d been uncomfortable all night, and now she knew why her instincts had been on high alert.
“No?” This time he yanked on her hair to show his displeasure. “What about me and my friend?” He spoke louder than was appropriate or necessary, and she blushed as people around them began to look. “One of us in that tight pussy, another in your ass?”
Hell no. “Red!”
“Get your hands off her.” This from the man whose dark gaze followed her everywhere but whom she’d never met.
“What’s going on here?” John, a club monitor, approached. Fully dressed in leathers and wearing a badge indicating his status, his arrival was exactly what Amanda needed.
He turned a hard and pissed gaze on Mike, the man she’d stupidly opted to play with tonight.
He stepped into her personal space, getting between her and Mike, the asshole. Apparently he had a protective streak.
“The lady said red. Mike didn’t respect it. You can take care of the bastard. I’ve got her.”
John nodded, pulling an argumentative Mike away for what looked like a good dressing down.
“Thank you,” Amanda said to her rescuer, admiring his take-charge personality, which turned her on as much as his good looks already did. She’d had her eye on him for months.
Cropped, jet-black hair and a strong, chiseled face that knocked her on her ass. He had an air of authority that aroused her.
“My pleasure.” He smiled, taking her breath away. Until now, she’d only seen him from across the room. His impact was more potent up close.
She only came to the club once in awhile, to try and get what she needed from a guy without the hassle of a relationship. It still amazed her she’d only ever really desired him. But he’d never approached her, and she wasn’t the kind of woman to take what she wanted from a man. Never had been. Didn’t trust the reaction she’d get in return. There was a reason she had a membership here, where expectations were laid out up front and if someone approached her, he wanted her, if only for the night.
He clearly hadn’t.
The deeply ingrained insecurities instilled by her perfection-demanding mother rose to the surface. Too fat. Not pretty enough. Passably smart, but where would that get her?
“Let me take you out of here,” he said in a gruff voice, pulling her back to the present. She met his gaze.
The unexpected flare of desire in his dark blue eyes took her off guard. If he’d approached her earlier or another time, she would have taken him up on the invitation. Now, it seemed like he’d made it because he felt sorry for her. She’d been someone’s pity fuck once before. Never again. Insecurities were one thing. Being stupid quite another.
“Thank you but I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” He lifted her trembling hand, which made his point for him.
He obviously thought she was upset about the incident with Mike. He was wrong. She was overwhelmed by his masculine scent, and her body trembled with the effort it took not to take him up on the offer. Pheromones didn’t care about things like emotions and pity fucks.
“I don’t know you,” she said, throwing out another, more substantial roadblock.
Even he would understand that after the crap Mike had pulled, not even the security of club membership assured her anyone here was safe. He couldn’t expect her to leave with him.
As much as she wanted to.
She shivered, suddenly cold, wishing she were wearing day wear and not this stupid corset and short leather skirt.
“I can vouch for him,” Max Savage said. He was a nice guy she’d done a scene with awhile back. He’d relaxed her and taken her close to subspace. Not over. No one took her there. And at the time she’d been with Max, she’d had no interest in sleeping with him.
This guy was another story.
She glanced at Max and tried not to grin. One friend trying to help another get laid. “Nice try, but I don’t know you all that well either.”
She rubbed her hands up and down the goose bumps on her bare arms.
“What if I told you he was a cop?” Max asked.
“Really?”
He extended his arm, and someone handed him a blanket, which he proceeded to wrap around her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said, immediately feeling better.
“You know me.” John, the club monitor who’d hauled Mike away, reappeared by her side. “You can trust Decklan to take care of you. Mike’s been warned before. His membership has been revoked.”
She blinked in surprise. “I’m glad.” The asshole didn’t deserve to be in a position of trust.
“Decklan’s a decent guy. Don’t leave with him if you don’t want to, but at least let him get you something cold to drink. You’ll feel better, and then you can get changed and leave. I’ll walk you out myself,” John promised.
Decklan. She tested the name in her head, liking the sound. “A soda sounds good.”
The crowd around them had already dispersed, and even Max had walked away, giving his friend a shot on his own.
Good luck, she silently told him. To her way of thinking, they might have passed I’m interested looks with their eyes over the last six months, but he hadn’t stepped up, which Amanda took personally. Decklan whatever-his-last-name-was would have to bring his A game if he expected her to do any more than drink a soda with him before heading home.