CHAPTER EIGHT
Owen
Something was wrong. My insides felt like they were tumbling and somersaulting over each other — intestines twisting around kidneys, stomach bumping against spleen, heart swelling into lungs. The limo was parked, but everything seemed to be shaking slightly, including my hands as I reached for the chilled bottle of champagne to pour two flutes. All my senses were on high-alert. I heard brakes squealing blocks away and saw the smallest details in the textured leather seats, and the pads of my fingers were extraordinarily keen to the smooth, cool surface of the glass I precariously held as I tipped in a stream of pale liquid. This was completely abnormal.
I was nervous.
Nerves hadn’t been a part of my dating experience since I was a young high school kid, when I asked Tina Endisch to go to the school clambake with me. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have slightly clammy palms and a tongue that felt too thick for my mouth. Frankly, it wasn’t a feeling I was pleased to revisit, but it certainly brought to light just how interested I was in Tabby. Her enjoyment of our impending evening together mattered to me. Yes, I was getting what I wanted — taking her to The Blackjack Club and soothing my concerns about engaging in relations outside its safe, regulated confines — but for once my satisfaction didn’t ride solely on how I felt at the end of the night. In a way, I found the revelation unsettling, but perhaps even more unsettling was how nice it felt to care about someone else as much as myself.
The door to the limo swung open unexpectedly, making me jump slightly and rattle the two champagne glasses in my hands. In my distracted state, I’d failed to watch the hotel doors to see whether Stephan was coming out with Tabby, and now… here she was. As if by magic, she was getting in the car with me. Her leg, shapely and smooth, entered first, rousing the familiar feeling of desire I seemed to constantly feel in her presence, and then her entire form became visible as she slipped onto the fine leather seat. She was wearing a burgundy cocktail dress with a billowy skirt that fell to her knees, and a bright smile.
“Hi!” Damn, she smelled good. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. My cousin was still hanging around. She bought her room for the entire day to avoid having to sit in an airport longer than she wanted.”
If she was nervous, I couldn’t tell. Her eyes were glittering, and her hands weren’t shaking, and she looked perfectly poised yet casual. I, on the other hand, was startled to discover that seeing her actually increased my anxieties rather than eased them. My stomach was tight and there was a knot at the base of my throat that made talking a greater effort than it should’ve been. Simultaneously, my head grew light and fuzzy with the thrill that she would soon be inside the very place I’d been hoping to take her since our first conversation. Forget dating nerves. This was an emotional monster digging its claws into my insides and raking me bloodless. I’d never been so charged before just because of a woman.
“I can’t say that surprises me, as little as I know of her.” I extended a flute to her, which she accepted. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” she said with a soft, humble smile.
The word “lovely” hardly seemed appropriate. It was too mild for how she looked. Sensational, incredible, striking… not even those were good enough. Her hair was down for the first time since I’d met her and fell in careless waves to her collarbone. She’d done her eye makeup in a fashion that accentuated the graceful arcs of her lids and the sharp points of the corners. The cocktail dress wasn’t what I would consider revealing, but it fit to her curves the same way her leggings had when she’d taken pictures at the restaurant. I knew those curves now. I’d traced them with my hands and watched them grow taut and undulate beneath my touch. They had formed to my palms and lifted to my mouth and urged me for more, and seeing them hidden coyly beneath silky fabric was somehow even more tempting than seeing them bare and brazen.
“So, since we’re going to this club of yours together now, can you tell me anything more about it?” Tabby asked before tilting the champagne to her unpainted mouth.
I grinned. “And ruin the surprise? What would be the fun in that?”
“Aha! A clue!” she exclaimed in delight, crossing a leg over the other. I skimmed the vision of her slender foot in the strappy heel for a brief second before returning my attention to her face. “You admit that it’s fun.”
“A regular Sherlock, you are,” I chuckled. My nerves were finally beginning to steady, and I observed my hands no longer shaking as I mimicked her sip with one of my own. “Do you think I’d take you somewhere boring and stale?”
“Well, you’ve given me nothing to go on,” she accused good-naturedly. “For all I know, you’re taking me to a stuffy mansion where a congressman is going to read us his practice speech.”
I laughed outright, almost spilling my drink on myself in my uproar, which I would have considered an ironic homage to our initial encounter. “I promise there will be no speech readings,” I swore, holding up a hand as if taking a solemn vow. “Although, you may very well find yourself in the presence of a congressman or two.”
She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips mockingly as she cooed, “Ooh, how fancy. Maybe I should’ve gone with the other dress I was considering. It was much more Jackie O.”
“Believe me…” I narrowed my eyes at her slightly as my pants tightened in my lap, “you should have no regrets about the dress you chose.”
Her apple cheeks flushed a shade, and she tried to hide her smile with another drink.
“And it will match perfectly,” I added.
“Match what? The décor?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached into my jacket pocket and withdrew a slip of black fabric. She eyed it discerningly, and I took either side in each hand to display it fully before her.
“Is that…?” Her eyes flew to mine.
“A blindfold?” I finished. “It is, indeed.”
Several telling responses blended on her pretty face, though the one I noticed best was the shading beneath her brow suggesting arousal. My groin felt hot in my trousers at the sight, and I slid along the rounded seat until I was at her side. Her lower lip rolled between her teeth.
“Are you opposed?” I was certain I already knew the answer, but it wasn’t good form to act on an assumption.
“I don’t know,” she answered slowly, darting her stare between the blindfold and me. “What’s it for?”
I smirked, loving that she’d given me the opportunity to be a smartass. “To prevent you from seeing.”
She rolled her eyes. “Glad you could clear that up for me.”
I snickered as I fondled the satin fabric between my fingers. Tabby was the ultimate enigma. She was in the back of a limo with a guy holding a blindfold on her way somewhere relatively unknown and she still had the strike of a cobra. I almost respected her too much to crave her. Almost.
“The Blackjack Club is a gathering of New Orleans’ elite, and it is highly secretive and well-protected. All who enter are required to sign a statement of confidentiality. As this will be your first time in our fine establishment amongst our reputable members, you have signed no such agreement yet and are thus considered a liability. In the best interest of all involved, your knowledge of our location should be limited to an uneducated guess — i.e., you need to be blindfolded to prevent you seeing the address or surroundings until your sworn confidentiality is secured.”
She blinked. “Is that a clause you memorized off some official Blackjack Club document?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m going to find something better to do with that mouth than sarcasm if you keep it up.”
Tabby exhaled slowly, and I distinctly noticed the way she subtly ground her rear into the seat. “Okay.” Her head lowered in what could only be called a regal nod. “You can blindfold me.”
I broadened the elastic strap and slid the blindfold over her head, careful to keep her hairdo as intact as possible. As the fabric hooded her eyes, the erection threatening to swell to epic proportions in my pants twitched. I knew the physical reaction being blinded would have on her. All other senses would heighten even as mild paranoia set in, and she would be in a constant state of anticipation without any ability to predict what was to come. The proclaimed use of the blindfold hadn’t been a story I’d made up just to get her in such a precarious predicament. It was very much a part of The Club to hide away even the smallest details of our organization from those who hadn’t been vetted, but it may as well have been for my own enjoyment, the desire it ignited within me.
Unable to help myself, I pressed my fingernail against the inside of her thigh just above her knee and dragged it upward at a painstakingly slow pace. A shiver rocked her body. Farther up I ventured, sneaking beneath the hem of her dress, and my hand warmed as I neared her core. Flimsy panties already dampened with want prevented me from reaching the promised land, but I wasn’t to be deterred and slithered my wandering finger between fabric and skin. Slick moisture coated my digit, and I used the lubrication to orbit her sensitive clit. She whimpered and reached up to peek below the blindfold, but I darted forward and bit into her jaw right below her ear.
“No,” I whispered. “You don’t get to see.”
She let out a long, hushed whine but kept the blindfold in place as bidden, and I rewarded her with a flutter across her clit. She was so fucking wet. Hot. Ready. Her thighs were tight, but she spread them minutely to allow me more access, which I took greedily. Joining my middle finger with my first, I stroked her slick folds and tugged them gently before walking both fingers back up to pinch her clit between them. The first hints of a moan rose in her throat.
“Remember last night when I said the only thing I wanted to hear from you was your moans?” I murmured, ending the question with a kiss on her lobe.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Well, Stephan is in our presence tonight, and I’d feel terrible if he felt uncomfortable, wouldn’t you?”
Her answer didn’t come immediately as she processed what I was insinuating. “Couldn’t you just put the privacy divider thing up?”
If I wasn’t so ready to send her into battle against her own body, I would’ve laughed and mocked her for hours about “the privacy divider thing.” As it was, however, I wanted to see her squirm.
A lot.
“I could, but I won’t. To that end, I don’t want to hear a thing from you. Not a moan, a groan, a gasp, a plea. Nothing.”
“But I can’t help—”
“If you disregard my request,” I continued, bowling over her protest as though she hadn’t said a word, “I will be sure to make my displeasure known.”
With that, I drove both fingers into her. Her mouth sprang open, but I was impressed when she choked down the violent yelp that nearly burst out. I flattened the pad of my thumb against her clit as I hitched my inserted fingers around her pubic bone and began stroking both sweet spots. She froze for a second, then her ass rose off the seat to grind into my hand and her head rolled back.
Regardless of what I’d told her, I wanted to hear her pleasure. In fact, I needed to hear her pleasure. My entire body was tensed in anticipation for that first uncontrolled cry to escape its bodily prison. Eager and determined, I snaked my tongue along the outer edge of her ear and increased both speed and pressure. Her hips bucked, and she bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself from making a sound.
I grinned against her ear. “Did you want to say something?”
She shook her head vehemently, but I had more tricks up my metaphorical sleeve. Trailing kisses down her neck to her shoulder and then her collarbone, I pulled her bodice down her torso with my free hand. She was braless beneath, and her breasts bounced slightly as they were freed. In a matter of a blink, both nipples were visibly hardened. I bent and slipped one between my lips, flicking my tongue over the nub. Her self-control relented, and a hoarse mewl dribbled from her mouth.
Where my lips had softly suctioned a split second before, my teeth clamped down none too gently. Tabby inhaled with reflexive pain, to which I responded by pinching her other nipple with just as much aggression as I used to bite the first. While I punished her, my working hand continued persistently, caressing her G-spot and clit with unrelenting vigor. The combination of pain and pleasure seemed to push her over the edge, and she exploded against me. Moans rolled into my ears and breasts arched to kiss my cheeks. If she was still aware Stephan was hearing everything, she’d discarded any care in the midst of her limb-shaking, finger-clenching orgasm.
I let her finish trembling before I withdrew my hand from between her sweet thighs and straightened her dress back into place. Her entire face was scarlet, her breath ragged, and she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands in her post-climax state.
The picture of beauty.
I kissed the tip of her nose. “I hope you know you got off easy.”
“Is that a euphemism?” she laughed, the sound shaky on the air.
I brushed her jaw with my nose and snickered. “Hardly, but you didn’t ask to come.”
She hesitated. It was difficult to gauge her thoughts while her eyes were covered by the blindfold, so I was forced to wait for her to speak. “I thought that was just something you wanted last night,” she said, the words hesitant and uncertain.
“You thought wrong.” I licked her jaw where I’d just brushed it. “I would usually punish you for such a grievous transgression.”
“Usually? Does that mean you’re not going to this time?”
I grinned, though she couldn’t see it, and sat back as the limo slowed to a halt. “Not unless you want your introduction to the members of The Club to be their watching and hearing me force orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re speaking in tongues.” Her breath hitched, and my grin widened. “We’re here.”