A Very Menage Christmas (2 page)

“We’ll discuss your training when I get back, along with
your name and number.” He must have seen something on my face, because his
eyebrows drew together and his erection grew. “Maybe I’ll just fuck the info
out of you. Give me five minutes, gorgeous.”

The door hadn’t fully closed before I shot off the bed as if
it were awash in flames. I snatched up my coat and threw it on, thankful for
the carpet that muffled the sound of my shoes, but hesitated at the bedroom
door. My belt was gone.

A heated blush crept up my cheeks. I twisted to search for
the belt but came up empty-handed.

On Jackson’s dresser lay a blue t-shirt and I reached for
it, unable to stop myself. I brought it to my nose and inhaled, drawing one
last part of him inside because I knew I’d never return.

A noise from inside the bathroom made me panic and I bolted
from the apartment. It sounded like a herd of elephants running down the stairs
but I didn’t care.

It wasn’t cold outside but I tightly clasped the coat around
me, clutching Jackson’s shirt to my chest.

Train me? I wasn’t a damn dog but the mere thought of being
on my knees for them turned my traitorous pussy into a fountain. Normally I
couldn’t even orgasm during sex but in the last hour I’d come…how many times?

Coming like that had to be a one-time thing. Living out a
fantasy during a one-night stand. I couldn’t be what he wanted me to be. He
didn’t want reality. He wanted a dream. Nothing more. If I stayed, things would
sour. My family would get wind of it and everything would be ruined.

* * * * *

Several hours later, I dreamed of them. And again the night
after, and the night after…

Days became months.

I convinced myself the insidious ache for Jackson deep in my
gut wasn’t real.

I’d spent years trying to cram the square peg of myself into
the round hole the world expected me to fit into. My fear of what-if, after my
night with Jackson, renewed my efforts.

“About damn time, Skylar Evangeline Weston.” My best friend
Jenna held open the door to The Library, a private BDSM club she’d worked at
for several years. “It’s been five months since you darkened the door here.”
With a mock frown, she tugged me inside, into her tight embrace. “I’ve missed
you. It’s not like you to stay away so long.”

I hugged her fiercely, relishing the comfort I’d denied
myself. Of all my friends, she understood. In a twisted way it was why I’d
feared coming back.

She wore her trademark corset and leather pants, making me
feel like a poseur in gray leggings, flip-flops and a sweatshirt that said “It
ain’t gonna lick itself”. Thank the lord she’d known what she was getting when
she told me to dress comfortably.

The club was quiet. No guard had greeted me when I entered
the property and I’d had to use Jenna’s after-hours gate code to get in.
Everyone was away for the holidays except three special members she wanted to
surprise for Christmas. She’d told me she had to have my help. Saying no to her
hadn’t worked. I’d flown back into the country just two days prior, which
hadn’t swayed her either.

Honestly, staying away was becoming physically painful.

I wanted to blame the confrontation with my ex for why I
hadn’t come back, but it was Jackson and Nick. They’d unlocked something deep
inside and that genie wouldn’t get back in the damn bottle.

Didn’t mean I had to stop trying, so I pasted on a fake
smile. “Missed you too. Sorry I’ve been such a horrible friend. I’ll make it up
to you and the twins. How are they anyways?”

“They’ve hired a new security firm. Some bigwig company, so
equipment’s being upgraded and updated. New access control. Better cameras. The
head honcho is supposed to come in right after the first of the year. It’s all
needed but something feels weird.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with Casanova, would it?” She
picked on one of her coworkers at every turn because his last name was Love.
She’d never admit it but she had it bad for him. “Have you given in to him yet?
Why not go for a little rumble in the dungeon and get him out of your system?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Men are in general, you’ve been telling me that line for
years. Whether we get any benefits along with it is up to us.”

“He looks at me with those gray eyes and I melt inside but
you know I don’t play with coworkers.” She rolled her eyes but it didn’t take
much to see past the attitude. She’d been with several guys after getting her
heart broken but it never went any further than sex.

Casanova was different. She’d described him as hot, hunky
and hung. All the adjectives a girl needed to have fun. It made it even
stranger she hadn’t indulged. She wasn’t hassling me for details on my nasty
breakup or the threesome she knew a tiny bit about already so I kept my
questions to myself.

We walked down the hall to one of the private playrooms and
she picked a box up from one of the side tables.

“Whatcha got? Something for the lucky girl?”

“Yep.” She opened the box and took out two brand-new,
beautiful wrist cuffs. They were black leather with a soft padded lining in
deep red.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Made to my specifications. They came in a few days ago.
Let’s put them on you so I can see how they look with your complexion. I had a
redhead in mind when I designed them.” She loosened the buckles on the cuffs,
slipping them on me one at a time.

They were two inches wide, lightweight, and I felt wicked
wearing them. Memories of the neighbors shivered through my insides.

She attached the last buckle and I turned my wrists to see
how they fit. The D-rings flashed in the lights above and a little thrill went
through me. I wondered what it would be like to wear them for real.

I went to take off the cuffs but she stilled my hand.

“Wait.” She removed a pair of slightly wider cuffs from a
second tray in the box and attached them to my ankles. They were snug and made
of luxurious black leather lined with suede. “Wear them while you’re here if
you don’t mind. They fit you perfectly and I want to know if they chafe or if I
need to make any adjustments.”

“They’re so pretty. I’m like a submissive in training.” I
sucked in a shocked breath.

Why did I have to use that phrase?

She tilted her head at me and tapped her chin, raising her
eyebrows. My time was up and my stomach dropped to my knees. “I’ve let you
stall ’cause I love you but that’s all you get. Don’t sugarcoat it. I know the
asswipe did a number on your self-esteem and I’m still planning on returning
the favor by sending him a Dip-Shit-O-Gram for Valentine’s Day. A nice
bitch-slap from one of the club Doms sure says I care.”

I barked out a nervous laugh. “Oh, the spiteful webs we
weave. Don’t let me stifle your creativity by any means.” We got to the
playroom door but she stopped to listen to me. “That chick’s voice is on repeat
in my head, asking him to come to bed. We stood there arguing about him cheating.
Then she had the audacity to simper at him? Like we were taking up her precious
time when they could be going at it in the dark, in the missionary position. Is
it petty of me to hope her ass is two feet wide?”

Jenna swiped her card through a reader on the wall then
placed her thumb on a biometric scanner pad. It matched her thumbprint,
unlatching the door. She shook her head. “Hell, no! Karma is a bitch, I tell
you, and if that evil witch’s juju happens to manifest itself in a derriere the
size of a Buick, who are we to question it? Feel me?”

A genuine laugh burst free and I had to wipe my eyes. “Damn,
it’s been a long time since I’ve smiled. They seriously fucked with my inner
Zen.” I wandered around, not really seeing much. “It sucks to be alone at
Christmas. With my family all overseas, the condo’s quiet. They asked me to fly
back next week. The jet could be here in several hours if I decide to go but
I’d rather be here alone than with them at the holidays. It got old…them
staring at me, asking twenty questions on what happened to ‘that nice boy’.
Trying to salvage it with him to make them happy didn’t get me very far. Ugh…
And my paintings are atrocious. Dark, angry.” My whine might as well have been
handing out business cards.

“Pity party for one, huh? I’ve never seen you so affected by
a breakup. Did you want him that much?”

It didn’t take long to answer. “No, especially since the sex
fizzled like Alka-Seltzer, with half the shelf life. But…”

“But?” she prompted.

“It’s the idea of having someone, you know? Someone my
parents don’t hate me for. That person you can get comfortable with. A partner
you could be yourself with. Spend holidays beside and enjoy your time
together.” It was Christmas Eve and I was single and bitter.

Not the best way to embody the holiday spirit.

Ho, ho, hostile much?

“Okay, I’ll make you a bet. If I can kick your pity party to
the curb before the night is done then you owe me a day at the spa. It’ll be my
Christmas miracle, ’cause damn—it sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me.
If you’re still grouchy by the stroke of midnight, I’ll put away my fairy dust
and pony up a day at the spa for both of us so Franc can rub away all our
sadness. Deal?”

“Like taking candy from a baby. You’d better be ready
because I want the works. I just went and had my hoo waxed yesterday and they
have a new mega-massage. It lasts a hundred and twenty-five minutes. They call
it the Holiday Bluesinator.”

“You’re on.”

* * * * *

An hour later I asked, “Who’s going to be banged to their
heart’s content tonight?”

“A new sub actually. Two of the Doms here have been aching
to introduce her into our world. They’ve been with her but not here. She’s
scared, which is natural.” She pegged me with a pointed glare.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Several minutes of silence stretched out as we positioned a
spanking bench in the middle of the floor. Stark spotlights highlighted it from
above and awareness raced over my posterior. The only other furniture was a
king-size bed that dominated the far wall. It went nicely with the elephant in
the room, which I pictured hanging from shackles in the ceiling. When in Rome…

What would it be like to be totally helpless? Completely at
the mercy of a man you trusted to bring you pleasure? Two men…one blond, one
nearly black—

“Why didn’t you go back to them?” Jenna asked, cutting off
my fantasy.

Anyone else and I would’ve played dumb but she wouldn’t buy
it. “Didn’t have the balls.”

“But would you consider it?”

“What? Throwing myself at their feet?”

“No. Another ménage with two smokin’-hot guys.”

“If it ever presented itself. But now, after the sex with
those two, I compare everyone to them. If they were here right now, I’d
probably get on my knees and do anything they wanted if it meant I’d get more
than a self-induced meh of an orgasm tonight.” Big words for a girl who’d been
a chickenshit at Jackson’s open invitation. “Honestly? I was scared.”

“What are you talking about? The neighbors scared you?”

“The blond one, he—”

Jenna whipped around, her knuckles planted on her hips like
an avenging dominatrix. “What did he do? If he so much as breathed wrong in
your direction…”

“No.
No
, Jenna, jeez. Calm down. I
wasn’t physically scared of him even though he could probably bench-press a
tank. He just—I don’t know.” He saw inside me. It was a bit nerve-racking from
someone I’d only ever exchanged hi-how-are-yas with. Then to come like I did
the night we hooked up? They’d given me everything I’d lied to myself about
wanting. “Every deep, dark, depraved and utterly yummy fantasy I’d ever had stared
me in the face. It was all rolled into his buff body topped with a killer
smile. Oh, and those eyes? No one’s ever looked at me like that.” I shook my
head. “And I fucked both of them. I did. But the blond one… It was personal
with him.”

Jenna stood quietly for a minute. Stared at me with a
curious frown on her face and then her lips split into a breathtaking smile.
“You like him. I mean,
really
like him. The infamous bachelorette may
have met her match.”

“You can be terrifying sometimes. One minute you’re ready to
go castrate Hercules for me ’cause he glanced at me funny and the next minute
you’re buying us embroidered towels.”

“Who, little ole me?” She winked in my direction, threw me a
kiss and then we finished hanging the Christmas lights.

Multicolored LED strands highlighted the walls and turned a
dark dungeon into a Christmas oasis. It was festive. Homey. Whoever it was set
for…I hoped the lucky bitch had enough fun for both of us.

“Hey, I forgot something upstairs. Will you fish everything
out of the sack by the door and set it on the coffee table? Oh, and it would
rock if you could scoot the table closer to the bench.”

“Sure.” I moved the table then sauntered over to the bag. I
dusted off my hands, catching sight of the beautiful cuffs. They were lovely.
Dainty, if I could call black leather manacles that. The cuffs were made to be
shackled together or to some piece of equipment while someone owned my
reactions, building them into something they write books about. Multiplying the
pleasure until I couldn’t possibly hold any more…

Maybe dainty wasn’t the right descriptor.

I pressed a palm to my belly to stop the fluttering. My
nipples were tight and rubbed against the delicate satin cups of my bra.

The club was getting to me so I needed to hurry up and get
gone. I snatched up the bag and caught a whiff of men’s cologne that reminded
me of Jackson. Virile, dark. An edgy fragrance I craved. This place kicked my
libido into overdrive. Possibilities swirled in my head no matter where my eyes
landed. Decadent scenarios filtered through my mind. Tonight I needed to get
off in a serious way but I groaned at the thought of going at it alone…again.

I rummaged through the contents on the way over to the
table, touching something long and hard in the bottom. I extracted it,
expecting a dildo in some neon color, but found a candy cane. A candy cane on
steroids. It was thick like a fake dick and long enough to hit all the right
spots. I set it gently on the metal table. My legs shook like jelly so I sat
next to the candy.

I withdrew a soft item from the naughty grab bag.

A red satin blindfold.

I’d never been without my sight during sex and didn’t know
if I’d like being unable to see. It looked pretty next to the candy though.

Next were two small clips with grabby teeth. With a shrug, I
set them down and removed the last item. A small finger-length plug with a
wider section in the middle and a flat base on it. It was red as well. Shiny,
sleek, and my ass clenched at the thought of trying it out.

Talk about an upgrade in the orgasm department.

I made a mental note to hit up Jenna’s supply room before I
left. ’Cause nothing says Christmas Eve like vibrators and lube. I threw the
bag in the closet where the rest of the equipment was stored.

The main door to the room opened. I called out, “I’m in the
closet.”

Jenna laughed. “Known that for years!”

“Hardy, har, har.”

She stepped over to the doorway and leaned against the
inside wall. “Everything looks great! The toys are fun, huh? One of the guys
picked them out.”

“Yeah.” I had to grin. “The candy cane is my favorite. Very
festive.”

“Mine too.”

My attention lingered on several items, settling on a green
flogger. I picked it up. Drew the leather strips across my palm. “Does it
hurt?” I glanced up and she nodded.

“Depending on who you’re with it can hurt a lot or a little.
And where you are up in your head, you might want it to hurt or you might need
it just to sting a bit until your backside heats to a nice rosy glow so someone
can lick the sting away. Everyone’s different. Every scene is different. If
you’re with the right Dom, he knows what you need even if you don’t.”