The Rule of 3 [Club Libertine 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…I…I’ve hurt you. You should have let me fall on my fat ass.”

  Her face almost glowed with her embarrassment. Oh, god. She thought he’d fallen because of her weight.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Who the hell had made her feel fat? “You aren’t fat. You’re perfect!”

  He reached for her to reassure her, but she flinched from his touch. “I have a mirror and I can count. I know what size I take. Look, Sir, I am so sorry. If you need a doctor, I’ll pay for any medical bills. You can reach me through Collars and Cuffs.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. And it’s not your fault. It just goes out on me sometimes. Besides, it’s my fault for startling you. I caused you to fall. Let me help you up.”

  “I’m fine, Sir. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for it going out on you again.”

  Bracing herself on her car, she stood, her face stiff with pride. Her skirt was ruined, a seam torn up the side, and she’d broken off a heel. Limping around to the trunk, she pressed the electronic opener and the trunk popped open. She reached in a pulled out a gym bag.

  He reached to take it from her and had to jump back, pulling his hand out of the way as she slammed the trunk shut with no concern for his safely. She was clearly angry at him and herself. He tried to smile reassuringly at her. She glared back. Clearly he was out of practice. He tried again.

  “Uh, look, I’m fine. It’s an old injury…”

  His words died as she brushed by him, limping with as much dignity as she could muster toward the community center entrance.

  Well, he thought to himself, that could have gone better. It certainly couldn’t have gone worse unless I actually hit her car, although dropping her on the ground twice was pretty bad.

  * * * *

  Sarah looked at herself in the mirror of the ladies’ room. She was a mess. Her carefully constructed I’m-sexy-but-serious look was in tatters, her new shoes, the ones she couldn’t really afford, destroyed. Her skirt had a huge rip, but after taking a closer look, she realized that it was along a seam, so it might be salvageable. What wasn’t salvageable was her dignity. Or pride. How humiliating. She was too fat for him to catch. And then she’d elbowed him in the balls. Way to make a great impression on a man—no, a Dom—you have a crush on.

  She changed into her yoga pants and T-shirt and laced up her runners. She came out of the bathroom and eyed the exit. Maybe it wasn’t too late to sneak out. Peter could assign someone else to do this. There was no way she could face the Iceman, or as she now realized, Nick Della Corte.

  Just then, a door opened. It was him. He smiled tentatively before walking toward her.

  “Look, I’m sorry about dropping you like that…”

  “I know I’m fat. Why don’t we move…”

  “You are not fat!” he roared. Some people attending other sessions stopped and looked at them. “You are not fat,” he hissed more quietly, “and if I ever hear you say that again, I don’t care where we are, I’ll turn you over my knee and paddle that ass until you won’t be able to sit for a week. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. Now, let start again.” He reached out and took her hand. It was like touching a live wire. She wanted to pull her hand away, but she was frozen in place by his gaze.

  “Nick Della Corte, but you can call me Sir.”

  That was it. Her panties were drench by his tone and words. She wasn’t going to let him get away with it, though. They had to be equals for the session to be successful.

  “Hello, Nick. I’m Sarah.”

  He raised an eyebrow. She hated people who could do that and stuck her tongue out at him without pausing to think.

  His sudden grin scared her more than the eyebrow.

  “So, Sarah, are you a masochist, or do you just enjoy playing with fire?”

  “Fire? I thought you were the Iceman?”

  Suddenly his face shuttered, the smile gone and the remote Iceman back. She didn’t know what she’d said wrong or how to make it right.

  “Ice can burn, too, kitten. Don’t get too close or you’ll find out.”

  Then he’d turned on his heel and walked away. But he didn’t, couldn’t go far. He had obligations. They both did. And they’d run out of time to chat before the session.

  Together, they watched the workshop session put on jointly by The Pussy Kat Klub and The Dungeon. Afterward, Nick had suddenly announced that he couldn’t stay. He had a prior engagement he couldn’t break, he’d explained. Prior engagement my aunt fanny. Yeah right. Liar, liar, pants on fire. But of course, she didn’t say that out loud. She was pretty sure that would qualify for a spanking as well.

  Sarah wasn’t sure whether she was happy about that or not. All that had really happened was that reckoning was delayed. That didn’t mean she wasn’t happy to put it off for as long as possible.

  But then he’s surprised her by making arrangements to meet up after work on Tuesday at the location of her choice.

  Sarah was relieved when he left. She refused to admit that she was a bit disappointed, too. She was fine meeting with the Doms from the Pussy Kat Klub and The Dungeon on her own. She’d met both Bobby and Billy before. They were actually cousins, even though they both played at different clubs.

  She was a teacher by trade, so she knew how to organize the materials and present them in a fun and interesting fashion. By the time she got home, she was brimming with ideas. Nick would be the muscle, she decided, the Dom who would help expel the Gawkers who just wanted to see naked, kinky people having sex. She would smooth talk any moralists wanted to cover up the naked, kinky people who were having sex.

  Then he would demonstrate some bondage and pain techniques on her. She’d kneel at his feet and he’d tie her up and flog her. Maybe he’d even use a paddle on her panty-clad ass. No nudity would be allowed at the workshop, but it wouldn’t be necessary. Just seeing her get paddled should take care of getting the Romantics, who read the popular BDSM books but had no idea what the reality was like, to leave. Then she’d take over after the break and really teach the Prospects.

  Of course, that wasn’t how it turned out, not even close.

  When they met on Tuesday, Sarah had decided she’d be just as professional and remote as he was. If he wanted to act as if the orange juice spilling, finger-sucking incident had never happened and there was no attraction between them, that was fine with her. He might be the Iceman, but she’d be the Ice Woman!

  * * * *

  Her resolution lasted all of five minutes as he glared at her over the menu.

  “What the hell’s your problem?”

  “Is that how you talk to a Dom?”

  “You may be a Dom, but you aren’t my Dom. There’s a difference.”

  “No, you prefer redheads. How’s Firenelli doing, anyway?”

  “Pete? Oh, he’s doing great. I don’t see nearly as much of him as I’d like, though. He’s been flying back and forth to Japan on some sort of high-powered deal. I miss him, but he’s not my Dom, if that’s what you are insinuating. He was so kind and welcoming when I joined C&C. He helped me settle right in.”

  “I’ll bet he did!”

  Nick went cold as she looked up at him suddenly and he realized just what he’d sounded like. A jealous boyfriend. He had no right to be jealous of anyone she chose to see. He tried again.

  “I mean, I’m sure he did a great job welcoming you.”

  She nodded and they both went back to studying their menus. He tried again.

  “Have you met his wife?”

  “Wife? Oh, I think you are mixing him up with someone else. He’s gay, Nick. And he’s very single. He flits from uncollared sub to uncollared sub. Male subs. They all hope to be the one he chooses to stay with, but the next week, he’s always on to the next flower.”

  “Only males. Are you sure? You’re just his type. Are you sure that he hasn’t sampled your nectar?”

  As
soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized how ridiculous he sounded. Luckily, she found his words funny and when she laughed, he found himself joining in.

  “Look, Sarah. Wait. It’s none of my business who you have or haven’t played with. Let’s start over. Hi, my name is Nick and I’ll be your training partner.”

  She smiled suddenly, and it was like the sun had come out. She reached across the table and offered her hand. “Hi, Nick. I’m Sarah. Nice to meet you.”

  He smiled and shook her hand even though his mind was racing a mile a minute. Peter was single? The bastard. He’d left her? Nick had expected him to be married to Jackie, maybe with a couple of rug rats by now. Next time he saw him, he’d punch him in the face.

  At that thought, he immediately felt better and turned his attention to Sarah, who was looking at him warily. He decided he would be charming, something he could do when he put his mind to it, regardless of what certain people thought. Regardless of what she said, she was exactly Peter’s type, and if he hadn’t bedded her yet, it was just a matter of time. It would kill him Peter when he found out that Nick got into her pants first.

  Of course, she was smoking hot and he’d beaten off to fantasies of her every night since they’d first met. He had decided he wanted to Top from the moment that he’d first set eyes on her. The fact Peter would hear about it was a happy bonus. In fact, it was the main reason he wanted her. He would satisfy his own lust, give her a thrill and piss off Fire. What other reason could he possibly have?

  He smiled and settled down to charm the pants of her. Literally.

  Chapter Four

  Sarah realized quickly that he wasn’t just easy on the eyes. She’d been right about the military experience. He’d been a SEAL before taking an honorable discharge because of an injury a few years ago. He’d been in Seattle two years and worked for Whelan Corp as the assistant head of Security. And she found out he was smart. Not just book smart, although he did have a degree. He didn’t just regurgitate facts. He could analyze them and draw insightful conclusions.

  She liked smart. She was turned on by smart. She had to force herself to concentrate on his words as he expounded on his ideas for the class.

  “I see this as definitely a join session. Not a Dom, me, doing all the talking and the sub, you, listening quietly and demonstrating where required. I want us both to talk about our experiences in the lifestyle. I want you to talk about how you knew you were a sub and what drew you to the lifestyle. Sarah?”

  She laughed nervously as she realized that he was expecting her to say something. She’d lost track of his actual words at the pleasant sound of his voice.

  “I…uh…”

  “You’re okay with talking about what drew you to the lifestyle, aren’t you? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I think the newbies might like to hear your story as well as mine.”

  After that, she listened more carefully, but he listened to her, too. He might be a Dom and she a sub, but he treated her as an equal in this venture and they jointly made the decisions.

  “We’ll start with introductions, us and class intros. We’ll find out why they have come and what their knowledge level is. We’ll walk through the actual definition of BDSM. Impact play and bondage are the things that most people are curious about, so I’ll bring some implements and maybe I’ll do a little bondage and flogging demo with you. Fully dressed, of course.”

  “Of course. Then I can talk about what it means from a sub’s perspective, and I’ll talk about reading material if they are sincerely interested in the lifestyle and not just about entertaining fiction novels. I’ll bring some with me, including some Angelica Adams, in case they want to read hot fiction that’s also accurate.”

  “Perfect. Then we’ll take a short break and let them mingle and check out our displays of books and bondage.”

  “Maybe you should do the demo after the break?”

  “You’re right, Sarah. I’ll tie you up and flog you after they’ve had a chance to check out the toys. Then we’ll end a short overview of how the clubs work and what the membership process is. If anyone wants to pursue membership, we’ll give them an information packet and then can take it home and fill it out.”

  He looked at her and smiled, raising his glass in a toast. “By Jove, I think we’ve got it!” he said in a terrible English accent. .

  Dinner had sped by. She’d had work the next day so he suggested lunch on Saturday. They’d have the whole day together to take care of business.

  She’d had tentative plans to go to Pike Place Market. He had grinned and offered to take her there. They decided to meet at eight and have breakfast together afterward. He’d been so sweet that she’d immediately agreed.

  They’d met three more times to talk about the workshop, but they talked about other things too. They found they had a lot in common, from a love of the same books and movies to an aversion to shellfish and an addiction to caramel cheesecake that showed on her ass, but definitely not on his.

  She’d hoped he would ask her to play, but he never went down that path. He was always friendly and appeared to enjoy spending time with her. Maybe he considered her a colleague and he didn’t get involved in work relationships? Or maybe he just wasn’t attracted to her. She knew she should have kept going to the gym. Her ass was too fat and her boobs too big. She knew that. He wanted to be her friend. Just like Peter. But at least Peter was gay. Nick was straight. He just wasn’t attracted to her.

  Maybe she was destined to be alone, the woman who was everyone’s friend, but belonged to no one.

  She had to force herself to push away those maudlin thoughts or she’d order that second piece of cheesecake and she’d never lose that last ten pounds.

  * * * *

  Three weeks later

  Sarah finished setting up the BDSM book table while Nick took care of the toy display at the adjacent table. The big Dom had brought various implements of restraint such as ropes, leather cuffs, and suspension cuffs. He also brought instruments of sensation including everything from feathers to crops, and canes.

  She checked her watch. The workshop they were teaching didn’t start for another half hour, but she figured the first students should start trickling in any time now. This was the first of three sessions they’d be teaching together and she had butterflies. She’d thought that after teaching high school, this would be a piece of cake. Boy was she wrong.

  She looked from her table to Nick’s and sighed again. She loved books, but there was no doubt to which table the students would be drawn. Books, even ones with pictures, couldn’t begin to compete with nipple clamps and ball gags, let alone the whips and paddles Nick was setting out so carefully.

  She snuck another look at Nick as he rearranged the canes in his display, studying him covertly from the top down. Maybe he wasn’t conventionally handsome, but he was compelling to look at, from his long, lean body to his raw-boned face with the nose that looked like it had been broken at least once and not properly set. When she’d asked, he’d told her he’d first broken it at the age of twelve and then re-broken when he was walking a beat. He was an ex-cop, she’d discovered, a former homicide detective until an injury had cut his career short. Now he worked for Whelan Corp.

  She worked her way lower. His body was smoothly muscled, tight, without the body-builder bulk. He had almost no body fat, a fact that made her vow to diet every time she saw him. She was relatively fit, running three miles several times a week, but she wore a size ten and never seemed to be able to lose those ten extra pounds that had seemed to settle in her ass. She was always a bit self-conscious about her size and found getting naked in front of others for the first time difficult because she was worried that her body wasn’t good enough. She didn’t have a six-pack and her bottom jiggled and had cellulite.

  Her train of thought was broken by the sound of the door opening as the first of their students arrived.

  * * * *

  Nick looked over at Sarah. She looked conf
ident and beautiful and sexy as hell. She was also smart and funny, and he’d been walking around in what felt like a permanent state of arousal since they’d met. Seducing her, dominating her would be no hardship, not at all. He’d have done it even without Peter being in the picture. Pissing him off was just a bonus.

  They’d put a lot of work into designing the four-hour workshop and tonight, the proof would be in the pudding. And when it was over, he planned on celebrating by getting his hands on that magnificent ass of hers and turning it fifty shades of pink and then fucking her brains out.

  She looked over at him and he smiled, visualizing her naked and spread before him for his use and pleasure. He stifled a groan and forced his mind back to the business at hand. If he didn’t want to embarrass himself by coming in his pants in front of the entire class, he was going to have to concentrate. Since back in his cop days, when first he’d become known as the Iceman, nothing had ever rattled him. He’d been calm and emotionless through thick and thin, bullets and explosions, death and destruction. So why was he so rattled by her?

  He’d like to blame Peter, but he’d been rattled by her before he’d realized that she knew Fire. It didn’t help, but it wasn’t the root cause.

  Then he put the thought out of his mind and turned his attention to the students who were starting to trickle in. According to the registration, they had thirty-five people expected, almost evenly split by gender. Most were over thirty. About half were there as a part of a couple. The rest were singles.

  He was disappointed but not surprised when a few of the women headed directly to the book table, almost immediately voicing complaints because certain books that they considered essential were missing. He thought of going over to them, but Sarah seemed to be handling them just fine on her own, so he held back and watched the others enter.

  He had started to think they got lucky and avoided having any Gawkers when three college kids walked in. The seminar was limited to those twenty-one years of age or older. These three looked like they barely qualified. They were dressed in their idea of BDSM wear, he guessed, all leather and chains. He looked down at his own neatly pressed khakis and golf shirt and smiled.