The Pleasures of Summer (10 page)

‘Good evening, Stan,’ Robert replied. ‘These lovely ladies are my guests.’

Through the thin fabric of her coat, Summer could feel the warmth of Robert’s hand on her back. He opened the door and ushered them inside.

Summer wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. Something dark and gloomy, maybe a little seedy. She had been to plenty of clubs before, but the quiet luxury of the entrance lobby to
Noir
was impressive. Several people waved to Robert.

A dark-haired lady offered to take their coats. Summer’s fingers trembled as she opened the first button. Now that the moment had arrived, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go through with it.

Molly slipped off her coat and handed it over. Summer didn’t know where to look. She was wearing nothing but a red satin thong. A silver chain stretched from a matching collar around her neck and dangled between her breasts. On her nipples were tiny jewelled clamps.

‘Here, let me help you with that.’ Robert unbuttoned Summer’s coat deftly and slipped it off her shoulders. She resisted the temptation to tug at the dress. Molly had been right. She was wearing more than most of the women here.

‘Beautiful,’ Robert said admiringly. ‘The colour matches your eyes.’

He glanced at her neck, bare of adornment. ‘Haven’t you brought the chain and collar?’

‘No,’ Summer replied. ‘I’m fine without it.’ There was no way that she would let anyone put a collar on her.

‘Of course.’ He inclined his head. ‘If you prefer. You’re such a pretty little one. I thought it might make things a little easier.’

He picked up Molly’s leash. ‘Come along.’

Summer followed them through the door into the main club area.

She stayed close to Molly as they moved through the crowd. A dark-eyed man dressed in green surgical scrubs winked at her as she passed. She dropped her eyes and hurried after Molly.

Indiana Jones and his sexy sidekick were chatting quietly in one corner, while a man in a soldier’s uniform licked the boots of a red-headed woman. ‘Is she a …’ Summer couldn’t get the word out.

‘A Domme?’ Molly replied. ‘One of the best. She earns a fortune for private consultations. You have no idea how many captains of industry want to be told that they’ve been naughty boys. Come on, let me show you around.’

Something was wrong. Flynn knew it; he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Well, there were a lot of things wrong; starting with the knowledge that David was all set to marry Lorna. Once he had seen Summer safely into her salon, he had settled himself in a café across the road where he could see anyone going in or out, and had phoned his half-brother.

He still winced at the memory of that call. David had not been impressed by Flynn’s interference. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me who I can or can’t marry?’ David demanded.

‘I don’t want to tell you who to marry; I’m just saying that you don’t know Lorna all that well.’

‘Better than you do. Asshole.’

‘I doubt it.’ Flynn was torn between trying to keep David, and Lorna as well, from making a colossal mistake, and wanting to keep his former sub’s secrets. ‘She’s not what you think.’

‘Oh?’ David sneered. ‘I suppose you are going to tell me she’s not a virgin? Well, prepare for a shock, bro. Neither am I.’

That pulled a reluctant laugh from Flynn. He knew that David was far from being a virgin, but Lorna was a different matter altogether. She had a taste for extremes that he couldn’t imagine his brother ever satisfying. Not only was it likely to crucify David when he discovered the truth, it wasn’t fair to Lorna either. She shouldn’t have to settle for vanilla when she was used to dark chocolate with extra chilli. She deserved better.

‘Like you?’ whispered the little voice in his head which urged him to cut David out and put his collar back on Lorna. He knew all her buttons and he knew he could bring her back to him. It’s better to break them up now, not wait until they’re married.

The last time he had met her, Lorna had watched him, not David.

But first he had a job to do. And a spoilt little rich girl to protect from her own actions.

How much longer would this job take? The last phone call from Niall had told him to get back to full strength and wrap up the O’Sullivan job as soon as possible. When he was fighting fit again, Niall had a gig waiting for him, one that involved the sort of work Flynn liked best.

So what if I love to blow shit up? That’s not a crime, is it?

He focused on the job at hand. Summer was up to
something. He knew it. The knowledge was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Flynn had become convinced that the airhead heiress act was just that, an act. The woman who had been so competitive on the archery range was not the sort to spend all day lazing around getting her hair and nails done. She was up to no good, he would bet a month’s pay on it.

He checked the security camera, but there she was, curled up in bed. As he studied the grainy image in the small screen, he frowned. Normally, just looking at Summer caused an unwelcome surge in his libido. A flutter of those ridiculously long lashes, a flick of her hair, the sway of her hips, all were guaranteed to send the blood heading southwards.

Summer alone in bed should have done something to him. God knows he had imagined her in his bed often enough. Why was the picture of her sleeping like a baby not turning him on?

He looked closer. She was very still. The mic should have picked up something. Maybe there was a malfunction. He headed upstairs to check for himself. He would just stand at the door, he assured himself. He absolutely would not go into the room and check her for fever. That would be unethical and damnably stupid. Just stand at the door.

The room was silent. Too silent. As soon as he eased the bedroom door open a crack, Flynn knew he had been tricked. The room was empty. The little bitch had given him the slip.

A certain reluctant admiration for her cunning mixed with fury and aggravation.

Now he had to find her.

He knew it was wasted effort, but he tore through the house, searching for her. No sign. He rang her mobile phone and wasn’t surprised when it immediately went to voicemail. Didn’t matter, he had his lead.

‘Niall? Check the location of a phone for me, would you?’ He rattled off Summer’s number. He had only seen it once, but he was good with details.

He drummed his fingers impatiently while he waited for his friend to come back with the co-ordinates, then realized what he was doing and stopped. What the fuck was wrong with him? His icy coolness under pressure was legendary. It wasn’t as if Summer had been abducted. She had deliberately given him the slip so she could play hooky. But a nagging sense of urgency would not be denied.

‘Here you go,’ Niall’s voice was as calm as usual. Nothing ever ruffled that guy. ‘The phone is at number 13 Bruno Street in London. It’s listed as a private club, but there are no details. I’ll get back to you as soon as I find them.’

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Flynn found his voice. ‘Don’t bother. I recognize that address. I’ve been there before. Give me ten minutes to change and I’m on my way.’

Summer’s eyes were like saucers as she looked around
Noir
. Her imagination had not done justice to the club. For one thing, it was much bigger than she had been expecting, and much more luxurious.

Robert had changed his clothes and now he looked every inch the Dom in black leather and boots, with his hair slicked back to show the noble lines of his face. He held Molly’s leash in one hand and a long leather bag in the other. Summer swallowed. She had an idea what was in that bag, and wasn’t sure if she wanted to encounter any of it.

She’d already noticed that most of the Doms carried a similar bag. Some of them had floggers or paddles in their hands. One corseted Domme also had a tool bag, but hers was being carried by a tall man whose rubber suit left his buttocks exposed.

Summer meekly followed Robert and Molly, and found herself in a large room, with thick carpets and dramatic artwork on the walls. The music was techno but at a lower volume than she was used to, so that conversation flowed freely.

‘I like it,’ she whispered to Molly. ‘I’m not being deafened.’

‘It’s so you can hear a safe word.’

Safe word. Summer swallowed again. This wasn’t a joke.

People clustered in groups, talking and laughing. It could have been any cocktail party, except for the outfits. James Bond held a glass to Miss Moneypenny’s lips. She couldn’t drink without help as she was kneeling with her hands cuffed behind her back.

There was a group where everyone wore a rubber version of a military outfit, and a red-haired woman wearing only a pair of outrageously long studded boots served drinks.

Summer felt overdressed, and was glad of it.

Robert led them to the bar, where he ordered a glass of vintage champagne for himself and two club sodas for the girls. Summer took a gulp, and then had to fight the urge to sneeze. She gripped the glass tightly as she continued to gaze around.

A large screen television on the opposite wall showed a black and white vampire film. A man in a leather skirt was tying a woman up, and then attaching the ropes to a ring in the ceiling. Between one breath and the next, she was in suspension, spinning around, and he was encouraging her twirl with a flogger.

A priest appeared to be hearing confessions on a bench. Whatever the penitent had said obviously called for a lot of contrition, because the ‘priest’ hauled her over his knee and spanked her soundly. Her squeals were ignored by the laughing group.

A tiny flicker of excitement spread through Summer at the sight. She’d always had fantasies about being spanked, just not by a priest.

‘Robert, introduce me to your charming companions,’ said a voice belonging to a tall highwayman.

Summer froze. Oh no, what if he gave her name? Summer wasn’t such a common name that people were likely to forget it. And her face was famous enough.

‘Ladies, allow me to introduce Peter, the scourge of the local heath. Peter, this is Lola and Wild Child.’ Thank god he had used their online names.

Peter swept his tricorne hat off his head and bowed deeply to both of them. ‘Enchanted. I’m delighted to meet you. I hope we get an opportunity to play at some stage.’ He beckoned over another man, whose costume seemed to be mostly chains, and introduced him as well.

Summer took another mouthful of soda, her worries easing slightly. The formality and politeness were at odds with her expectations. She had been afraid that as soon as she got into the club, wearing this excuse for a dress, she would be grabbed and groped by strange men. Instead, she was being introduced with a degree of formality that wouldn’t have been out of place at an embassy reception. Although people were doing things which made her feel like a nun at an orgy, it appeared to be by invitation only.

She could cope with this, she decided. It wasn’t as if she was going to do anything but watch.

Robert ordered another glass of champagne and chatted for a few more minutes. ‘Now girls, I think it’s time we went to the play area.’

Molly squealed with delight.

This wasn’t the play area?

She followed them deeper into the club. Back here, it was equally luxurious, but was stocked with equipment that made her catch her breath. Old-fashioned stocks. A cage. A medical table with straps for wrists and ankles.
A large frame with ropes. A wooden X-shaped cross, already equipped with cuffs.

‘Do you want to go first?’ Robert asked her.