To Sir (14 page)

Even if she wanted Chase to do that to her, which she most certainly did
not
, she had no claim to him. Remembering the possessive way he’d draped himself over her when bringing her into the club made her hotter. Sheesh! He was acting like a caveman, and she couldn’t wait to be next in line to have him drag her off by her hair.

Sick, Clark. Really sick!

She had to get ahold of herself. She took in a few deep gulps of air as Chase and Amber closed in on her, and she had to fight the panic of a rabbit being stalked by two coyotes. The dark gleam in Chase’s eyes made her empty sheath clench. No man had ever looked at her like that before, and it was a heady sight.

Amber’s pale skin was flushed with sated desire, and she leaned heavily on Chase to walk. She had a long, dark brown braid flung over one shoulder, and big hazel eyes.

“Amber, this is a friend of mine, Liz.”

Amber smiled, keeping eye contact with Liz as if it was an everyday occurrence to meet a half-naked woman while completely naked after having just finished screaming in incredible pleasure. Liz had already seen way more of this woman than was necessary, but she tried to hide her embarrassment and maintain eye contact. If there was one thing she was used to, it was bluffing her way out of any situation.

“Nice to meet you,” Amber said, extending her hand.

Automatically, Liz took it, and they briefly shook. “You as well,” she said in her coolest, most businesslike voice.

“Right. Well, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” Chase said.

“Sure,” Amber practically purred at him. She gazed at Chase adoringly. Apparently she either didn’t know what Chase had been doing with Liz in his home last night, or she didn’t care.

With one arm wrapped around Amber to help her walk, Chase snaked his other arm around Liz’s waist, sliding two fingers into the edge of her lace boy shorts. She shivered at his touch and squashed the urge to push him away. Amber opened the door for them, and the three walked in an oddly comfortable way down the hall to a banquette of seating. Chase lowered Amber onto a chaise, where she lounged back with a flourish.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, slipping his hand from Liz’s panties.

Liz sat awkwardly on the corner of the lounge chair while Amber watched her with half-closed eyes. “So, you must be new, you lucky duck.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Amber smiled at her. “Wow, sweetie, you really have that innocent-schoolgirl thing down, don’t you?”

Now that was condescending. But Liz didn’t know how to respond. She needed her clothes, and possibly a smack to the back of the head to knock some sense into her. Why the hell had she agreed to stay?

Oh, yeah.

Because when Chase’s body had pressed tight against hers and she’d felt his hot erection against her bare back, she hadn’t wanted to be anywhere else in the world. Amber watched her expectantly, but Liz shrugged.

“Oh, my
God
. It’s not an act, is it?”

Liz bit her bottom lip and looked away. She couldn’t stare into this other woman’s eyes and not remember seeing all of her up on display. But not looking her in the eye meant Liz ended up staring at her bare chest, which really wasn’t such a great alternative.

“Hey.” Amber touched Liz’s arm until she met the woman’s gaze. “There is no shame here. Well, unless it’s part of the scene, and then… Never mind. Getting sidetracked. What I mean is you really need to relax. This is a safe space. These are your people. If you let us, we will gladly help you explore everything about what you want, what you need. Judgment gets left at the door. For others. And especially for yourself,” Amber finished gently.

Staring into those hazel eyes, Liz took a deep breath. The soft hand on her forearm was comforting, warm. Who knew you could receive such comfort from a naked stranger? If only it were that easy for her to check her judgmental self at the door the way one did a coat.

“Well, isn’t this an interesting development?”

Liz gazed up into Chase’s smiling face and felt the ridiculous urge to slug him again. “We weren’t… I mean…I…” she stammered.

“Huh. I’ve rendered the writer speechless. Way to make a guy feel special, Elizabeth,” he said, his grin widening.

She barely suppressed her newly discovered darker side. Focusing on the craziness around her helped her mind stay far, far away from her parents’ kitchen and the events that had transpired there not so long ago. As she glanced from Chase to Amber, her blowup with her parents seemed like a dream.

“Oh, my Gawd!” Amber turned and gaped at her, then clamped a hand over her bright red mouth.

“What?”

Amber shook her head.

Chase placed a hand on her shoulder. “What is it, honey?”

God, did he always use pet names with women? Was it too much to ask that he refer to this woman by her name? Maybe it was, since he’d just had her strapped to a bench. It wasn’t that far a stretch from dominating a woman in the bedroom—or club—to believing she should be silent, barefoot, and pregnant in the kitchen.

Stop it
, Liz admonished. Not every man was her father. Or so the shrinks had said.

Amber removed her hand and looked between Chase and Liz. “Um, can I break the rules, a teeny, tiny, itty bit?” she asked, her voice a low, pleading whine Liz had never heard come from a grown woman’s mouth.

Chase’s eyes were wary. “How so?”

“Well, I kind of, um, sort of think I know her outside of here. Or at least know
of
her,” Amber said, her eyes twinkling.

Liz was sure she’d never met this bubbly, sweet woman before tonight, so she had no idea what Amber was talking about.

“Liz?” Chase turned to her.

She shrugged. “I have no clue what’s going on.”

“Anonymity is important for a lot of our members, so it’s an official rule that you don’t acknowledge someone you know outside of the club while you’re here unless you’ve agreed upon it beforehand. Personally, I think it’s a bullshit rule, but it was one some of the early members insisted on, so there it is. Amber seems to think she knows you, but you don’t know her?” Liz couldn’t imagine Chase bowing to anyone’s desires, let alone following anyone else’s orders.

“I’ve never met her before,” Liz swore. She was positive she would’ve remembered.

Amber’s squeal brought a couple of curious looks their way, but after a second, everyone in the area went about their business. People lounged and cuddled in various positions on couches around them, and Liz felt like too much of a voyeur already tonight, so she quickly turned her gaze back to Amber, whose eyes were still glowing with mischief.

Now Liz was worried. Again, she fought the urge to reach for more clothing. Why had she left her dress sitting in that alley?

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, let her spit it out already. Can’t you see trying to keep it to herself is practically killing her?” she said.

After a moment, Chase said, “Go on, then, Amber, if you must.”

“Are you, um… I mean, he called you Elizabeth a second ago, and you’re a writer, so I thought maybe you were…”

“Oh, jeez,” Liz mumbled.

“You
are
, aren’t you?”

Liz nodded. Of all the things that had happened tonight, meeting a fan—being rather more intimate with a fan than she’d ever wanted to be—wasn’t on her list.

“What?” Chase asked, dipping his long, delicious fingers into the small pot of salve.

“She’s Elizabeth Leigh,” Amber whispered excitedly, as if Chase were slow. “Didn’t you know?”

Chase looked at Liz, and she felt the burn of a blush flare back to overheating instead of the constant simmer it’d been on since she’d stepped across the threshold of the K Club.

“I knew you were a writer. I didn’t know you were famous.”

“I’m not,” she assured him.

Did she make a living writing? Yes. Was she a
NY Times
best seller? Not strictly speaking.

“Oh, yes, you are,” Amber insisted, her voice stronger than Liz expected and so vastly different from the pleading edge or excitement of before.

Liz rolled her eyes.

“Well, you’re famous to me. I’m a big fan. Huge, actually. And it’s great to meet you,” Amber said, using the soft grip on Liz’s arm to pull her closer and hug her.

Oh, this was weird. After about half a second, Liz pulled away, incredibly uncomfortable with a female’s nude body plastered against hers.

Amber laughed. “Well, for an erotic-romance author, you do seem a bit, um…” She pursed her lips.

“Demure?” Chase supplied.

Amber nodded, grinning. “Except, of course, for the outfit, ’cause that’s killer.”

Amber flicked her braid over her shoulder, and without any other prompting, Chase’s hands found the end of the hair and unbound it with the same efficiency he’d unbound the bench restraints. With gentle movements, he unbraided Amber’s hair. Liz watched with unabashed curiosity. He was such a conundrum—hard and commanding while pounding the hell out of Amber’s backside mercilessly one second, and then out here unbraiding and caressing her hair the next.

“Well, Liz is kind of new to the scene,” Chase said, catching Liz’s gaze over Amber’s head.

“So I noticed. I was in the midst of telling her she was safe here.” Amber stretched her neck and leaned back against Chase’s bare chest. He placed a kiss on her shoulder and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. Liz felt the stirrings of desire again. Ugh. This shouldn’t turn her on so much. But as Amber settled back into his embrace more fully, Liz felt her mouth going dry and her nipples jumping to attention with a shiver.

Hard as she tried, she couldn’t pry her eyes from the scene of the two in an intimate embrace. It was clear they had some kind of relationship, and Liz didn’t know what she should feel about that, since she’d been on the receiving end of some of that pleasure herself. Obviously monogamy wasn’t Chase style, as if she should be surprised.

He shifted Amber on his lap so she was sprawled across him with her pink backside in the air. He tenderly rubbed salve into the skin, which must be stinging like crazy. Liz’s breath caught as Amber moaned and writhed. He stroked up and down her backside, then the backs of her thighs and up again.

Amber sighed and arched her back to look up at Chase. “Thanks, hon.”

“Sure.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

After another few strokes, Amber slid to her feet in one graceful motion and grinned down at Liz. “Again, so, so good to meet you. Would love to see you again sometime, in a more traditional fan-author setting.”

Liz chuckled. “Yeah, sure.” This certainly was the most unconventional way to meet a fan.

And then Amber was gone, and Liz was left staring at Chase. He inched closer to her, as if afraid any sudden movement would make her flee like a doe in a hunter’s sights. Maybe he was right, but she was determined to prove him wrong, if only for the sake of taking him down a peg.

Grr. What was it about this man that brought about her most combative nature?

Without a word, he offered her a hand, and she took it, letting him sweep her to her feet and whisk her down another hall, away from the crowds and the music of the main floor. She followed him silently. She should have been checking out the club, trying to catalog the images of it in full swing for later use while she was writing, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t focus on anything except the way the muscles of his back rippled as he moved. His tanned skin was pulled tight over his back and hips, and with each step, his rear contracted in the snug leather, and her mouth watered.

He opened a door, flicked on a light, and she had a quick impression of an office before he was closing the door and crowding her against it. Her view narrowed to his intense brown eyes and angelic face.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” he asked. She didn’t have to ask him what he meant, but she didn’t have to tell him
yes
either.

“You’re not nearly as vanilla as you think,” he challenged.

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she stuck to the facts. “Well,
I
don’t do obedience. I don’t need to be told what to do. I’m an adult. And I certainly don’t like pain.”

“It’s not about pain, sweetheart. At least not with me. Maybe sometimes it’s about pain, but only if both parties want it. It’s about giving in, about letting your deepest, darkest desires take over and surrendering all control.”

No, she was not into pain. But she couldn’t help the way a shiver ran through her at the heat in Chase’s words.

“SO DO YOU have, like, the world’s worst case of blue balls or what?” Liz asked, clearly trying to distract him from his line of questioning.

And it was working, damn it. Chase’s cock twitched anytime he looked at her, thought of her. When she said dirty things like that, his entire body raged out of control. The urge to pin her against the wall and fuck her senseless rode him hard.

He slammed his open palms into the door on either side of her head and leaned down into her personal space. “You know, for a woman who professes not to use dirty language, you sure do it a lot.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Did that
satisfy
you?” Her thick lips seemed to savor the word
satisfy
, and he lost it.

He thrust his hips hard into hers, shoving his cock against her soft flesh. “God, I’d like to take that dirty mouth of yours and teach it a lesson.” Maybe if he pushed her hard enough, she’d push back.

“So do it,” she dared, defiance flaring to life in her brown-and-green eyes.

Oh, she was going to get way more than she bargained for. He drove his lower body between her legs and lifted her a few inches off the floor with his thigh pressed firmly into her groin. She moaned at the contact, and he pinned her wrists to the door above her head with one hand. The other he used to hold her head steady, thumb and forefinger on her jawline, three fingers splayed wide along the side of her neck where his mark still lay. He crushed his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss, giving her no choice but to accept his punishment.

She melted, her body going pliant in his hands. With each thrust of his tongue, he moved his leg between hers. Blue balls. Damn her. When he was done with her, she’d be begging him for release, and only when she was finally, finally ready to admit she loved being punished for her naughtiness would he grant it.