Desire for Love (The Club #13) (2 page)

Madeline’s heartbeat
kicked up a beat. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Listen and stop
interrupting. Several high-rollers have a bet going amongst themselves that one
of them can claim your cherry. Full sexual penetration with a partner chosen by
them.”

“My contract does not
stipulate that necessity,” Madeline said quickly. Her specialty was sexual
release through total domination and she rarely had to worry about a lack of
clients.

“Of course it doesn’t,”
Roberta responded smoothly. “That’s the beauty of the bet. You do your job as
usual and the Club wins the bet.”

“No way. I don’t want any
part of this demeaning idea.”

“You don’t have a choice.
I’ve been reviewing the roster. Club attendance has been down the past few
weeks, which means your hours will be cut by half. If you do as you’re asked
tonight and the Club wins, there’ll be a nice bonus for you.”

“Does Jet know about
this?” Madeline asked, referring to the Club’s owner.

“Who do you think
organized it?” Roberta pushed her chair back and rose to her feet, her face as
hard as set concrete. “Let me be completely clear about this, Marigold. You do
your job and you get paid. If you don’t? There are plenty of girls out there
who’d jump at the chance at working here.”

Madeline set her jaw
firmly. “I want to speak to Jet. He’s the one who hired me.”

“That’s out of the
question. He’s not at the Club tonight as he’s taken personal leave.”

“Then I want his private
mobile number.”

Roberta stared down her
too perfect nose. “You are already fifteen minutes late. Your client has had to
be placated with two free drinks already. How much more money do you expect the
Club to lay out just to satisfy your trust issues? If you can’t do the job,
then there is the door. And don’t expect to be allowed back.”

Madeline fiddled with her
coat zipper.
How hard could it be?
There’d been plenty of times when she’d
been tempted in the past by a handsome face or a charming smile, but she’d
always held back. The trauma of witnessing first-hand the life of a woman who’d
gone down the path of selling her body to anyone with a dollar in their pocket
remained carved bone deep.

On the rare occasions
when Madeline sought male company, she’d done it on her own private time by
hitting one of the nightclubs and taking a guy to a hotel room. It might have
sounded sleazy to others, but keeping it casual was how she wanted it.

At the Club, Madeline had
resisted men—and women—before. And there certainly had been plenty of them
eager to fuck her completely, but she’d perfected her role playing down to a
fine art. The client received their sexual satisfaction in other ways without the
need for actual screwing. There was no reason tonight could be any harder than
any other night.

This bet didn’t sound
like something Jet would be involved in, but the lure of extra money was
tempting. Even if this was some set-up of Roberta’s, then Madeline wouldn’t
lose out of it. The bonus would come in very handy. Now that there was less
work hours available and with Karim Academy’s higher school fees, she’d need to
dip into her savings in order to eat and pay this month’s power bill. That
meant her plans would be pushed further out of her reach.

She lifted her chin.
“I’ll get ready. Five minutes is all I need. What room am I in tonight?”

“Check the board. I’ve
already organized the rooms.”

“Fine.” Madeline ignored
the triumph blazing from the other woman’s eyes.
Focus on the money and
Matty. All I have to do is my usual job for two hours. Piece of cake.

Inside the blood-red
room, Harrison checked out the security cameras. There was no attempt to hide
their presence from customers, which told him the Club took the welfare of
their staff and customers seriously. From what he could discern, every square
inch of the room was covered.

But it did give him a bit
of the willies, knowing there were eyes evaluating his every move.

He gulped down another
mouthful of the Tequila Sunrise he’d been handed by a very pretty brunette
who’d entered five minutes ago to apologize for the delay.

Harrison didn’t mind. The
wait gave him more time to think, to plan his strategy. Doubt hit him suddenly.
What in blue blazes am I doing here? I must have rocks in my head to think
this will work.
He took another swallow, the bite of the alcohol hit his
stomach, and he decided he’d had enough.
I need to have my wits about me if
I’m to succeed.
The two free drinks could be a ploy to get him drunk so his
session would be over before he knew it.
I’ll probably need every second
I’ve got
, he thought wryly and set the glass down on the coffee table.
Going by her reputation, Madeline is no push-over.

His gaze traveled the rich
crimson brocade-papered room to linger for a few heady minutes on the massive
bed with its red satin sheets, covered with a simulated bear rug, and piles of
soft. squishy-looking cushions. Ornate mirrors adorned the walls, apart from
one wall where an interesting array of sex toys were displayed in prominent
view. Ball gags, whips, paddles, cuffs, restraints, collars, and what he
thought were spiked pin wheels. A spanking bench with padded arm and knee rests
sat to one side of the room. He’d visited one or two similar establishments in
Sydney before he took this current job offer over here in the States. No bones
about it, this place beat the others hands down, for its promise of
sophisticated and sensual gratification of all the senses. Strewth, just looking
around him had him hardening as stiff as a four-be-two plank of timber. About
to walk over and inspect the props more carefully, he paused when he heard the
rattle of the door handle.

The door opened and in
she walked.

It was if all the air was
sucked out of Harrison’s lungs. He stood stock still, knowing he probably
looked like a prize galah with his tongue hanging out, but for the life of him,
he couldn’t seem to pull himself together.

She was everything he’d
imagined.

Everything he’d dreamt
about.

Everything he’d ever
wanted.

And all he had to do was
turn her around to his way of thinking and Bob was his uncle, as they said in
his part of the world

Clad in a bright red
corset, black lace G-string panties that barely covered her femininity, and with
her blonde hair pulled back into a thick braid, she walked to the center of the
room and paused. She placed her hands on her hips in a way that thrust her
pelvis forward and sent the blood rushing feverishly to his balls.

He took his time,
examining every inch of her. She was tall, maybe two inches shorter than he,
built along the lines of an Amazon with full, high breasts, small waist, flat
stomach, and long, long shapely legs. Her face was more square than oval with
large, green eyes outlined by black makeup, a small roman nose, and wide full
lips glistening with red lip gloss curved into a practiced smile that was more
challenge than amusement. He imagined sinking into her lush body, feeling her
arms and legs wrapped strongly around him, her face, flushed with pleasure, her
eyes glowing with more than desire as she gasped his name.

He blinked and tucked the
fantasy—no, his secret longing—securely into the back recesses of his mind.                                                                                  

There was no warmth in
her clear eyes. Rather she swept her gaze over him in a disconcerting fashion,
more like a science professor than a would-be lover. If he thought she’d be a
dumb blonde, he was dead wrong. Her demeanor screamed cool, remote rather than
come-hither. Despite all he had riding on the outcome, he relished these
aspects of her personality.

Bless her little cotton
socks.

He grinned and rubbed his
hands together, and watched her frown as if he wasn’t the person she’d expected
to see.

“Problems, love?” He
released one button on his shirt.

“Not wasting any time, I
see.” Her voice came out dry.

Harrison laughed. This
was going to be fun. “I intend to get to know you intimately, Marigold.”

A shadow crossed her face
and he bet pounds to peanuts it was because of his use of her work name. He
didn’t blame her.

“It’s demeaning.”

“What is?” Her hands fell
from her hips and she stared at him.

Ahh, a tiny crack in that
frozen armor.
He’d aroused curiosity and he
intended to arouse a hell of a lot more. “This crap about you having to use a
flower name; it’s so corny.”

She shrugged and the
flesh of her breasts above the tight corset jiggled. “It’s only a name. I
couldn’t care less.”

Liar.
But Harrison had learned something else about her. She didn’t lie with ease. A
hint of pink heightened her cheekbones.

He undid another two
buttons, watching with interest as her gazed flicked to his chest then back up
to his face. “So what’s your real name?” He’d already made it his business to
find out but wanted to see whether she’d tell him.

“It’s company policy not
to give out that information.” She stared him down as coolly as a queen and his
pulse quickened.

Strewth,
she was gorgeous. He debated whether to admit he already knew it but before he
came to a decision, she turned her back and his tongue just about cleaved to
the roof of his mouth at the sight of her tight, rounded, backside nicely
revealed by her high-cut corset and the miniscule G-string of lace that slipped
snug between her buttocks.

She strolled over to the
wall and inspected the array of whips hanging from the pegs. “Any particular
preference? Hard or soft?”

“I can take whatever you
care to dish out, babe.”

The next moment she was
in his face, staring him down out of eyes that reminded him of the clear,
blue-green waters of the sandy lagoon on Fitzroy Island off the coast of
Queensland and where he’d done his thesis for university. “There are rules that
you will obey. First up, you only speak when I give you permission. Second, you
will address me as Mistress.”

He winked.

“Is this your first time
at BDSM?” Frowning, she cast him another swift glance as she ran her forefinger
lightly over the top of her corset. “Have you undergone training?”

“First time. But I wanted
to learn from the best.” He grinned, his mouth watering as he imagined ripping
at the toggles and scooping his hand inside to cup her breast. “Mistress,” he
added.

“Damnit.” She raised her
eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “You have no idea at all, do you?”

“I’m a quick study,
Mistress.”

Triumph flashed across
her face.

She thinks I’ll be a push
over. Hah! I have news for her.
“I’m looking
forward to a long ride, Mistress.”

No trace of amusement
now. Instead, she scowled at him again and he had to resist leaning forward to
rub the tiny crease in her forehead away.

Her jaw tensed and she
gritted out, “Let’s decide on your safe word.”

He rocked back on his
heels and smirked. “I won’t need one.”

She laughed. “Trust me.
You will. For the next sixty minutes you belong to me. You will be totally
dominated by me. You will submit to my every request, without a protest. If you
speak before I give you leave, you will be gagged. You will not touch me unless
I say you can and then only where I allow. You will not come, until or unless I
give you permission. If you disobey me in any way, you will be punished. And I
know a lot of different ways to punish naughty boys.”

Geez, just hearing those
words pour from her sweet lips gave him a hard-on. She hadn’t laid a finger on
him. Bloody hell, he hadn’t even touched her, and yet he was ready to spill his
load right here and now. Her gaze dropped to the bulge in his jeans and she
gave a tiny smile.

“There will be no
spanking the bacon until I’m through with you. If you attempt to do so, you
will be punished.” She walked back to him, dipped her hand low in between his
legs, and ran a finger forward towards his swollen balls.

His heart slammed against
his ribcage. She dragged that bloody finger up and over his stiffy and damned
if he didn’t have to swallow his moan of pleasure.

Stepping back, her hand
dropping to her side, she said, “Take your pants, shoes, and socks off. Now.”

Hell, yeah.
“Yes, Mistress.” Moving faster than he’d ever moved before, he undid his belt,
unzipped his jeans, toed off his shoes, and all but threw his lower clothing
off his body. His cock poked out from under his shirt, proud, swollen,
throbbing with his pulsing blood, and already dripping from his raging lust.

“I’ve seen bigger,” she
said and sniffed.

Cheeky little witch
.
Harrison held his grin inside.

“Your shirt.”

He rapidly undid the
remaining buttons and flung the garment over his head. Breathing heavily, he
began to mentally recite the alphabet backwards. Anything to slow down his
animalistic need to leap upon her and take what he wanted so desperately. She
was good at this—arousing a man with the merest of glances, a few lewd
suggestions, the slow wipe of her tongue over her lips. She was carnal heaven
personified.

“Mmmm.” Finger tapping
her mouth, she strolled in a casual manner around to stop behind him.

She must have leaned or
stepped closer because he suddenly felt her blowing warm air down the length of
his spine. Then lower over the crack of his backside. His hands fisted and he
squeezed his eyes shut. Man that felt good.

He could even hear her
breathing, she was so close.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Her hands cupped his
backside, spreading his cheeks wide. She blew one long breath over his
sensitized flesh.

He just about jumped
clean out of his skin.

Smack!

Her hand connected hard
against his bum. “I did not give you permission to move.”

Shit.
Sweat broke out along his hairline.

She slapped him again.

Bloody hell. I think I
need that safe word
. “Love!” The word burst
from him.

“What?”

“My safe word. It’s
love.” She must have leaned away from him because her breath no longer teased
his skin. He thanked heaven for the brief reprieve.

“Seriously? That’s your
safe word?” She sounded skeptical.

“Yeah, Mistress.”

“Oh. Well, whatever.”

He visualized her rolling
her eyes and allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. 

“Spread your legs apart.”

Eagerly, he obeyed.
What
now?

Her hand slipped between
his parted legs to fondle his right ball. “Ahhhhhummpph,” he groaned.

She squeezed.

Painfully.

A shudder wracked through
him.

“Do.” Squeeze, release.

“Not.” Squeeze, release.

“Speak.”

Gasping, his eyes
watering, his blood roaring like thunder in his ears, he nodded.
Strewth, I
don’t know if I’m going to make the distance!

“Good, boy. Now, down on
your hands and knees.”

***

Madeline looked her
client over carefully. His position was erotic with his heavy balls and thick cock
hanging down, his nicely packed buttocks displayed to perfection, the muscles
in his forearms and shoulders bulging. Rather wonderingly, she touched herself
through her G-string, surprised to feel betraying dampness on her fingertip.

This guy was nothing like
she’d expected. She’d assumed whoever had organized the bet would have gone for
a Hollywood looker maybe a surfer blond or a Latino guy. Either way, one with
smooth features, a practiced smile, and a gym perfected body. Instead, she’d
been handed a man with short, tree-bark brown hair who’d sent her senses
reeling the moment she laid eyes on him.

Sure, he was good-looking
but more in an ordinary, everyday guy kind of way. Like someone you’d see out
mowing his lawn or tinkering over the engine of his car, sleeves rolled up,
grease on his hands. There was strength in the line of his jaw and the firmness
of his mouth. That twinkle in his amazingly bright, blue eyes was downright
disconcerting.

Energy and a zest for
life rolled off him in waves.