Jenna's Consent (3 page)

Her fingers found their way to her sex-starved pussy,
slipping inside and she whimpered at the heat emanating from inside her.

“One more time and I’ll have it under control. Just
one…more…”

“Run that by me again…”

Yeah, she decided it was worth it just to see Mr. Cool Calm
& Collected flounder for a few seconds while he tried to reboot his brain
to process her out-of-the-blue answer. His usual smirk reappeared before she
could speak.

“You heard me, Casanova.” His gray eyes narrowed and his jaw
clenched at the taunt.

He hated the nickname and it made the sting of giving in a
little bit easier to swallow. Her pride was going to undoubtedly suffer but she
decided to go down swinging.

She’d put on her turquoise corset with floral panels,
highlighting her small waist and large chest. And she’d paired it with a cream
tutu, fishnet stockings and a pair of high heels most drag queens would be
jealous of.

Whoever said that power came in a pair of stilettos was
definitely a woman.

“I said yes. You’ve been asking me the same question for
months so surely you haven’t forgotten the request yet?”

For a moment longer he stood a few steps away, posture
relaxed. Anyone else who cared to look at them across the bar probably saw what
he wanted them to see. The unruffled, self-possessed manner that he always
exuded with ease. But she saw the darkness he thought no one else noticed.

Thankfully, the regulars probably thought they were having a
normal conversation. It wouldn’t be abnormal, since they were both employees.
Well, two employees in the private bar of The Library, a private BDSM club in
Arcadia, Kansas.

Their conversation was as far from normal as most vanilla
people could get and he was as far from calm as she’d ever seen him in public.

His ghostly eyes seemed to scan the room. He probably saw
the long bar with stools on one side, the mass of tables in the middle and the
booths around the far wall. He nodded to someone who she didn’t know and then
the distance between them disappeared as he stepped closer. His body heat
enveloped her and the tips of her breasts tingled as his muscled pectorals
brushed against them.

Submission wasn’t just something she played at occasionally.
It was who she was inside and out. Eye contact was a thing of the past as he
towered over her and she automatically lowered her gaze. She knew what was
expected of her and she knew how to please a dominant man.

“Look at me.” The directive snapped her to attention as she
locked onto his face once again. Her heart kicked into overdrive. His black
hair and tanned skin highlighted his intense gaze. She clenched her hands
together behind her back, automatically straightening her posture and
restraining herself from touching him without permission.

“You aren’t going to hide from me in this, Jenna. Let’s be
one hundred percent clear. What exactly are you saying
yes
to?”

He was normally a pretty fun-loving guy but dominance rolled
off him in waves and damn if that didn’t make her knees shake in a none-too-familiar
way.

“I’ll agree to be your submissive and accept you as my Dom
for one night. I will give full control over to you and will obey you to the
best of my ability.”

“Why?”

Of all the nosy…

Most guys would just say “Hot Damn” and tell her to get
naked. She had to pick the one guy that needed a reason behind it. ”What do you
mean why, Nick? You’ve been hounding me for months, telling me that you want to
play. So, I’m agreeing.” Honestly a night of no-holds-barred sex with a
dark-skinned, dark-haired, muscled ex-MMA fighter just didn’t sound all that
bad. It wasn’t like either of them was looking for a relationship. He just
wanted to take the edge off and she knew the club subs just weren’t giving him
what he needed. He was a bit more hardcore and held back. That wouldn’t be a
problem with her. She could take anything he dished out and if she could get
over her stupid hang-up on Ian McIntire in the process, then all the better.
Nick just didn’t need to know anything about that part.

Oscar, the bartender tonight and her best guy friend, sidled
closer to the end of the bar they stood by. He wiped the counter down, as if
anyone believed he wasn’t just trying to hear what they were talking about. She
almost rolled her eyes.

“A month,” Nick countered.

Her heart thudded one last time in her chest before it
ground to a resounding halt.

“
What
?”

“You heard me.” He threw her words back at her and she
couldn’t even think enough for a snappy comeback. “You think I'm gonna lick
that sweet pussy once and fuck you for a few hours and have my fill? Not to
mention the punishment you just earned for lying to me about why you finally
said yes. A month, Jenna…minimum.”

She glanced over at Oscar, whose mouth hung open. He mouthed
“Oh, snap,” before turning to help another member.

How in the hell had she missed the fact that Nick was way
more astute than she’d given him credit for?

“It’s all in the eyes, my sweet.”
Damn, was he a
mindreader now, too?
“It’s why for our time together I don’t want the normal
subservient pose with your eyes cast downward. I want them trained on me in all
things. I want you to know exactly who owns you for our time together. Who
smells the sweet arousal coming from between your legs, who brings you to
orgasm every night and who knows when you’re lying with your mouth as well as
your body.”

“But I…”

“Are you going for two punishments?”

She straight up didn’t know what to say, so the simplest
apology seemed the easiest route before she figured out how to handle it
better. Him better. “No, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

“Good.”

He leaned down and the tantalizing five-o’clock shadow he
normally sported brushed against the upper curve of her breast. Her tits were
pillowed high from the bright colorful corset she wore. A moan she didn’t know
she’d choked off slithered free as he worked his way up her neck and across her
cheek to her ear.

“A month,” he whispered and then sucked her earlobe into his
mouth. He nibbled on it, blew warm air across it and then backed away with a
purr from his deep voice. “I’m going to play with you, learn you and pleasure
you beyond your best and worst imaginings. Say yes, Jenna. Don’t overanalyze
it. Just…say yes.”

“Yes, Sir,” passed her lips before her brain could function
past the need now clawing to get out. She was wet, swollen in all the right
places and saying yes was what she did best.

He ran his tongue along the skin under her ear and his cock,
still concealed behind his suit jacket, brushed her abdomen. Her mouth went dry
in anticipation of him sliding inside.

She ached to reach for him, to tuck her body against his and
get warm, so she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands instead.

Sex.

That’s all she needed from him.

Nothing more.

She needed him to fuck her something hardcore-porn-style
with rope and leather and kinky toys—oh my.

Everything else inside her sighed as he palmed the side of
her cheek. Her emotions could suck it.

“So tense,” he whispered in her ear. He circled behind her,
squeezing her bare shoulders and she barely pushed the mute button on her vocal
cords before a massive sigh slipped out.

She relaxed though, her hands unclenching, and goose bumps
ran down her arms like little Olympic medalists in the hundred-yard dash. His
thick fingers chased the goose bumps away and warmth settled between her legs.

He didn’t comment about her reaction to him but he noticed
it. He noticed everything apparently.

How in the world had she gotten him so wrong? He’d been so
aloof, even going so far as to act bored when he’d played with some of the
other club subs.

She’s expected the same lack of attention to be directed at
her. It was one of the reasons she’d finally given in and said yes.

His focus threw her off, making her doubt her resolve for a
moment and she touched his waist.

“Want to tell me why you look so scared all of a sudden?”

Instantly, she schooled her features into a mask of ho-hum
and snatched her hands away. She laced her fingers behind her, wasting time so
she could stop herself from shrieking at him that she didn’t want to submit to
him anymore.

Concentration seemed to fail her but she finally found the
two words she needed. “No, Sir.”

He nodded and stared at her. “By the end of the month you’ll
trust me with more than just your physical submission.”

“Over my dead body, Casanova.” It was out before she could
call it back. And she not only sassed him but she leaned forward, crowding his
space as she basically snarled her derision in his face.

His lips curled upward, revealing a twinkle in his eye and
she knew she’d really stepped in it. “This ain’t my first rodeo, you little
rope slut.”

Jenna’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth a few times,
but sure as shit nothing came out. Only one person at the club knew how deep
her love for rope went and the whys of it. Her best friend Skye. Jenna knew she’d
never go blabbing about her. So how did he know?

Who else knew?

It was her private pain and she didn’t need anyone else
poking their nose—

His mouth covered hers and he tugged her face higher as he
closed the miniscule distance between them. He didn’t devour her, didn’t force
her mouth open and dive in, even though he could have since she’d already
agreed to his terms.

No.

He pressed a closed mouth kiss to her lips, simply holding
her to him. He kissed her cheeks and her nose, brushing his lips across her
forehead.

“You’re good at covering the rope marks, Jenna, but not that
good. You can’t hide that from me. I know you. Not all of you but a fuck-load
more than you think I do. You let your guard down sometimes when nobody else is
looking but I watch you. I see
you
. I haven’t figured out who you’re
getting rope from yet but I will. You’re going to tell me, when you trust me.”

She stared at him, watching his mouth move as he spoke,
wanting him to kiss her again, and needing to run as far and as fast from him
as her five-inch stilettos would carry her.

Thankfulness swamped her that she didn’t already know her
safe word with him because she probably would have whipped it out right then
and there.

Talk about the mighty falling.

She helped prep the submissives upstairs, helped calm them,
seduce them, and encourage them to face their fears and find what lived inside
them that they’d been hiding from everyone. Evidently she hadn’t been listening
nearly well enough to her little pep talks.

He’d kissed her.

Once.

And emotions swamped her, threatening to bury her in the
wake of the man who was Nick Love.

Love
.

What a crock of shit.

Love held someone’s heart. Then it squeezed the life out of
it until it never beat the same.

She didn’t have time for that, nor the little tête-a-tête
Nick was convinced they needed to have in the main bar room, with half of the
members of The Library trying to act like they weren’t listening to every
fucking word.

Her inhalation made her want to lick him. Damn he smelled
good. She wrinkled her nose, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he’d
gotten to her even a little bit.

Did he slap the look of disgust off her face like some
dominants would have?

No.

Did he turn her around, shove her over a barstool and tan
her ass?

No.

Those things, she could have born, tolerated and gotten off
on at least before burying the emotions rising to the surface inside her.

Instead he gathered her to his chest and simply held her.

Traitorous tears filled her eyes and she did what any other
girl would do. She got pissed off.

She stood there, arms at her sides as if she were strapped
to a two-by-four and couldn’t move at all. She craved his simple hug more than
her next breath. But she couldn’t just lean into it. Accept it. Accept him or
her need for it. Instead it made her spine stiffen further as he ran his hands
over the laces at the back of her corset. Sooner or later he had to get the
message that she was not into the huggy cuddly crap he was bestowing on her.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jenna. I’m not walking away. Nor am
I going to let you keep punishing yourself for things that are out of your
control.”

She opened her mouth to tell him where to shove his
self-help bullshit but he covered her lips with his finger, raising an eyebrow
in question.

She wasn’t a brat.

Getting his attention in a negative manner was not what she
wanted but for some reason she couldn’t seem to help herself.

So why on God’s green Earth was she acting so badly?

She never acted like that with Ian—

Fuck.

A.

Duck.

As if she needed Ian to make a mental appearance with Nick
so close. So observant. Just thinking of Ian made her feel like a neon sign had
just lit up on her cognitive freeway. What did it flash on and off?

Construction zone. Next 500 miles closed.

She lowered her lashes and tried to dip her head to hide.

Nick trapped her wrists behind her and grabbed a handful of
her hair, making her eyes fly open. He whipped her over to an open space in the
wall, trapping her body between it and him. She would have slammed into the
concrete surface if it hadn’t been for his hands protecting her.

He yanked her hair down, forcing her focus up to his face.

There he was. No more than two inches from her nose, staring
down at her.

She could feel her pulse beating frantically everywhere he
touched her. Her body sang a sweet melody for him and she wanted to hate him
for it.

“Punishment number two. Eyes on me. Always. Understand?”

She nodded once, though she couldn’t move her head very far.