CHAPTER TWELVE
REBECCA DIDN’T HAVE to check in with the doorman when she walked up the sidewalk. He moved aside to usher her in. “Good evening, Ms. Daniels.”
She smiled and walked inside. Once she entered the now-familiar club, her head turned on a swivel, seeking out Brett’s familiar figure in the crowd that mingled in the dimly lit room. And then she saw him. He was seated at a table with two men, no doubt members of The Brotherhood. He was talking, and what he said must have been funny, because the other two men burst out in deep laughter that vibrated off the walls of the club.
Brett smiled and took the opportunity to look away from his friends, and that was when his eyes locked with hers. All movement in the room stilled, the noise muted, and as they connected, he was the only thing that existed. After several beats, he turned back to his friends before standing and crossing the floor to meet her.
He looked devilishly handsome, dressed in a black shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black pants, and even though his smile was large, it didn’t reach his eyes. When he was within reach, he extended his arm and grasped her hand in his, and he tugged her closer to him. His arms wrapped around her, lips dropping to hers, taking her in a breath-stealing kiss. Her lips parted under his and his tongue twined with hers as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling her to him, not letting him get away.
When Rebecca thought she might pass out, she pulled away from him. “Hi,” she whispered, her arms moving from his neck, lowering until her palms flattened against his chest, which rose and fell rapidly in time with her own.
He lowered his head and took her lips in another short, potent kiss. “Hey.”
“Thank you for the flowers.”
“Thank you for last night,” he said as his lips turned upward. He smiled, but his face was unreadable. “And thank you for coming tonight.”
Rebecca watched him for a moment, wondering briefly if he was angry at her, if he’d found out that she was RMD and a threat to his plan. But when he flattened his hands at her lower back, it no longer mattered. She allowed herself to melt against him, and once again, she found herself forgetting everything else that mattered to her, and she could focus only on him.
His palms dropped to her ass and he squeezed, and he let his large, knowing fingers dip lower, so that they reached the now-needy flesh of her pussy, which was already wet and ready for him. He stroked her through her dress until she moaned. And she didn’t worry about the people all around them. No one was watching, and she leaned against him, wanting more, feeling his chuckle bubble from his chest.
A throat cleared behind them, and they pulled apart. She looked up and saw a man had appeared behind Brett. He looked nervous about interrupting them. “Um, Mr. Collins, everything is ready for you.”
Brett smiled. “Thank you, Andre.” The man turned away and left them alone again.
He extended his hand to her. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Brett led Rebecca across the floor and down a staircase she hadn’t noticed the last time she was here. He led her down a hallway and stopped at the first door. Brett opened it and moved aside to allow Rebecca to enter the room. It was a small square, and there was another door on the opposite wall. The room felt like a small vestibule.
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve set something up for us, and I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”
That sounded cryptic to her, and she tilted her head to the side. “What is it?”
“You know how I told you earlier that we have some secrets downstairs? The things that only certain club members are invited to enjoy, no matter what their kink as long as it’s between consenting adults?” He pointed to the other door. “On the other side of the door is one of our exhibition rooms.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have an exhibitionist streak,” he told her, and he opened the other door to the room. She peered around Brett’s frame and saw it was small, with a bed in the center and glass panes for walls. He extended his hand to her and led her into the center of the room. “And you always have. The thrill of getting caught was something we both reveled in. But how about when we know people are watching us? I want to be with you here. In this room, in front of an audience. I think you’ll like it.”
Rebecca looked around the circular room and the curved, mirrored glass that covered the walls. “Brett, I don’t know...”
He walked her farther into the room to stand by the bed. “This is a safe place to play out all of your fantasies. But there are a few other rooms if you’re interested another time. We’ve got a professional dom and dominatrix on staff. We also have rooms set up for fire play, and some other things that people enjoy. But this room is for exhibition and voyeurism.”
She turned around, putting her back to him, looking at the two-way mirrors, wondering if there were people watching them. “Brett, people will see.”
“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”
“But what if they know us? They’ll talk.”
“They won’t,” he assured her. “Everyone who comes down here has to sign a confidentiality waiver. No one can discuss what happens here. No one will say anything.”
“Are there people watching us now?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.
He nodded and stepped toward her. Standing behind her, he placed his palms on her shoulders. “The rooms are dark. They can see us, but we can’t see them.”
“How many people?” she asked, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth.
“There are eight private rooms in this area, surrounding this one. They can all see into this room, but we can’t see them, nor can anyone see what’s happening in any of the neighboring rooms, and I’ve been told that they’re all occupied. And there’s anywhere from two to five people in each room.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he answered, still behind her. He moved closer to her and pushed his hands down her front, over her chest. He palmed her breasts, through the satin of her dress. He leaned closer, and his lips brushed her ear. “Do you want to stay?”
Her entire body screamed in response to him, but she managed to quiet her shaky anticipation. “Yes,” she whispered.
A shocked gasp passed through her parted lips when his hands grabbed her shoulders and turned her quickly to face him. “Well, we’d better give them one hell of show.”
* * *
A slave to his desire, to Rebecca, Brett pulled her to him and kissed her. Sure, he’d brought her down here for ulterior motives. Bringing her down was a test. He wanted to seduce her, and then he would use her own desire against her, to get her to give up Daniels International, to give up and return to New York.
All of that was forgotten when his arms closed around her, pulling her small, lean body against his. She was warm, pliable, as his hands kneaded the muscles up and down the muscles of her back, until they grabbed her ass. She moaned and pressed closer, pushing herself into his dick. He’d already been hard when he met her upstairs, before he’d even touched her. His physiological reaction to Rebecca had always been immediate, almost desperate. He’d always blamed it on youthful eagerness, but at thirty, that enthusiasm for her hadn’t waned.
He took a look around the room and knew that there were people on the other sides of the glass, watching them. He’d used the room before, but never with a woman like Rebecca. Those experiences didn’t compare to his hands on Rebecca’s body; and the minute she’d entered his life again, he knew he would take her down here. She had been the reason he’d insisted on the room in the first place.
He kissed her, remembering all of the times during college when they’d had sex in a public place. All over campus, under a blanket at Red Rock...even on an airplane once, heading off for spring break. Name a place, and he would probably be able to say that they’d had sex there. The risk of being caught was a thrill to both of them and had added to every encounter.
As his tongue plunged into her mouth, probing, stroking against hers, her fingers clenched, curling into the firm muscles of his chest, and she got to work unbuttoning his shirt. She pushed it off his shoulders, and he took less than a second to pull it from his wrists and discard it before he attacked her clothing with similar vigor. Their frantic actions took him off balance, and they both landed on the bed. It didn’t manage to break their contact.
Sitting against the headboard, Brett pulled her into his lap, so her thighs straddled his hips. The short skirt of her satin shift dress rode up her parted thighs, and he could see that she hadn’t worn any panties. He cupped her with his palm, delving a finger between her wet lips, finding her already wet. He spread her moisture around her clit, and she cried out in his mouth. “You skipped panties today?” he asked, his voice strained.
“Well, I knew that I would be seeing you, and despite our best intentions, we always seem to end up naked when we get together,” she whispered. “Why waste time putting them on?”
He pulled his mouth away with a groan. “I like the way you think.”
He grasped her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her closer to him, pressing his hard cock into her bare pussy. She slid along his length. Her heat penetrated his pants, and he saw that she left a wet streak over the fly of his pants. The contact wasn’t enough for either of them. The barrier of his pants, the way they restricted him, only frustrated him when all he wanted was to be inside her.
He released her mouth to trail kisses over her jaw, and then he dragged his teeth down her neck before sinking them into the delicate skin where it met her shoulder. Rebecca cried out in shock and pleasure, and she thrust her hips against him again.
He smoothed his palms over her bare ass and squeezed. He then pulled at the spaghetti straps of her dress and pulled down the material, uncovering her.
“This doesn’t change anything between us, you know,” she said to him as his lips descended on one of her nipples.
“What?” he asked, unsure how she was able to form any sort of sentence when all he could focus on was the taste of her skin.
“About how I’m not going to let you get your hands on my company?”
“Your company?” he breathed, before his teeth clamped lightly onto her left nipple, and she squealed as he pinched and played with the other with his fingers. “Remind me?” he said, his lips moving around her nipple to mutter the words. “I’m currently in the middle of acquiring a new firm, is that what you were talking about?”
She moaned as his mouth and fingers played her like a musical instrument. “Hmm... Yeah, I think you might be a little bit wrong about that. But I rather like where your hands are at the moment. So let’s leave it for another time.”
“Sounds good to me,” he murmured against her stiff, needing nipple. “If you’re able to think about anything else at the moment, then I must not be doing a good enough job.” He flicked it with her tongue. She rubbed herself against him, leaving another spot of moisture on his pants. Her fingers dropped between them and unfastened his belt. She attacked his zipper with similar vigor. She put her hand in his boxers and withdrew his cock. He was hard, huge and ready. A drop of precum clung to the tip, and using her thumb, she spread the moisture over the head. His eyes were glued on her hands, and his lips parted. A breath shuddered from his chest. She shifted her hips, rubbing her wet pussy over the smooth skin of his length, sliding her wetness over him. She sighed at the contact, and she sped up the motion of her hips, but he didn’t let himself enter her. He rubbed his member over her clit and watched her eyes roll back in pleasure.
Brett’s fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, and he guided her hips over him, speeding up their rhythm even further. He groaned and let go of her briefly to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a condom. “Stop, Becca. Any more and I’ll come.”
He moved away from her, long enough to remove his pants. He discarded them where they fell on the floor and quickly returned to her on the bed.
Rebecca took the condom from his fingers and ripped open the foil packet. She covered him with the latex and held him in her fist, while she lowered herself over him, impaling herself on him until she was fully seated in his lap.
The sensation of her was always overwhelming, she was so warm and welcoming. She took a deep breath, clenched around him, tightening, and he groaned. She didn’t move. He briefly thought about the people watching them, and how they were there for an erotic show. But Brett didn’t care. He would stay there with Rebecca seated on his dick forever. The firmness of the mattress and her weight in his lap kept him in place. He tried to pull his hips back, to begin, but she was in full control. He exhaled a frustrated breath. “Christ, move,” he pleaded.
With a small smile on her lips, she kissed him chastely on the lips. But she obliged him and lifted herself over him, swiveling her hips, drawing out of him and then plunging down again. The desperate, growing ache within him needed it to be faster, harder. His hands gripped her hips, aiding her movements again, digging into her flesh.
“You’re so goddamn sexy, Rebecca. Just keep riding my dick. Just like that. Fuck,” he said, his lips brushing against the skin of her chest. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, and when he realized that she was completely on display, something snapped within Brett. He didn’t want the guests on the other side of the reflective glass to see her. Rebecca was his, and he didn’t want anyone else to enjoy her.
But there was no way in hell he would stop. Nothing short of death could interrupt him while he made love to her. In one quick movement, he rolled them both over, so she was on her back, and he covered her body. He took control and continued to plunge into her. She gripped his back, digging in with her nails, and the pain mixed with pleasure was a sweet dichotomy that caused a stirring low in his belly, that radiated throughout him. She cried out in his ear and she came, and he felt her contractions around his cock. It was enough to bring him over the edge, as well. He came, his cock buried deep inside her, with his own hoarse shout.
He caught his breath, and even though he knew that he might have been crushing her, he couldn’t find the energy or the will to move. He wanted to stay with her for the rest of the evening. He knew he couldn’t, but he wasn’t sure if he could make it back up the stairs without constant physical contact with her.
He realized that he had to get rid of the condom, and he reluctantly disengaged from her and dropped the spent latex in the nearby garbage. She lay back on the bed, her breasts exposed to him, and he reached out again and touched her. His eyes were heavy, his bones liquid, but his skin was electric, sensitized. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on. He held out his hand to her. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to take you home,” he told her. “We’re going to bed.”