Adventurous Me (26 page)

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Authors: Deanndra Hall

Tags: #Romance, #drama, #Erotica, #erotic romance, #Mystery

BOOK: Adventurous Me
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It was Vic Cabrizzi. And it was a Vic Cabrizzi she’d never seen before.

The mild-mannered man who’d sidled up to the bar and tried to make small talk with her was nowhere in this guy. Vic was six feet and eight inches of pure, dark, steaming sex in leather. He had the top half of his elbow-length black hair pulled up in a half-tail with a leather wrap, and his torso looked like it was trying to escape through the skin-tight black tee he was wearing. As he made his way toward the bar, the crowd parted to let him through as though they were in awe of the masculinity gliding across the room like a panther. Her eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to his ass, and it looked especially fine under those leathers, not to mention the more-than-obvious bulge in the front of them. The room started to get spotty, and Laura realized she’d been holding her breath.
What the fuck?
was all she could get to run through her mind.

“Well! Guess by the look on your face that you approve of our newest service Dom!” Steve walked up to the bar and took a stool. Even in the dim lighting, Steve could see Laura’s face turn three shades of red.

“Cabrizzi? Are you kidding?” she asked, incredulous. “You can’t be serious!”

“Look at him, Laura. Tell me you don’t want that,” Steve grinned.

“No. I don’t.”
Do I?

“Liar. Have a fun evening. I’ll check on you in a bit.” Steve walked away and left Laura to stew.

“Hey, can I get a diet soda?” Vic asked as he leaned backward against the bar. Laura hadn’t seen him come up, and she jumped about a foot. “Damn, woman, I just want a drink. I’m not gonna slap you or anything. Calm down,” he snapped, not even cracking a smile.

“Don’t you want your usual beer?” she asked, surprised that he’d asked for a soft drink.

“Nope. Against the rules.”

“Whose rules?” Laura asked.

“Mine.” She sat the drink in front of him and he picked up the glass. She couldn’t help but notice how elegant his hands were, long, strong fingers with just the lightest dusting of dark hair across them. Looking at them made her feel odd. “Can’t drink alcohol and keep my wits about me with a sub.”

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Laura asked, her mouth hanging open.

The new Vic Cabrizzi looked into her eyes and asked, “And what would make you think I’m not?” The low growl in his voice made her insides quiver, and she had to look away. “That’s exactly what I thought.” He finished the drink and smacked the glass onto the bar, then walked away.
What the hell?
, Laura thought. She looked down at her hands – they were visibly shaking.

Several of the unattached women in the club spent most of the evening talking to Vic, but most of them wanted to be collared by a Dom – right that minute. And Vic was not interested in that at all. They could flirt all they wanted, but it got them nowhere. He made it clear: He was a service Dom, and he’d be glad to meet their needs, but that was it.

“Oh my god! He’s so gorgeous!” one woman was gushing as she and another woman walked up to the bar. “Can I have a Bud Light?” she asked Laura, who pulled it and sat it down in front of her.

“I’d take him on in a New York minute,” her friend said. “I needed a sign that said ‘slippery when wet’ just standing there talking to him!” Laura wanted to hurl.

“I want to climb up there and let him spank me good, but he’s so damn big, he’s kinda scary,” the first one said.
Ha! Wish he could hear that!
, Laura thought.

But that left her wondering why she wanted him to fail. He’d obviously worked hard to train with Alex. She should be happy for him, that he was more confident and looked better, happier, than she’d ever seen him. Why did seeing him looking and feeling good make her feel so bad?
Maybe I’m the bitch that José said I am.

Laura felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and she pulled it out to see an unfamiliar number on the screen. She’d advertised to try to find a roommate, and she hoped that someone was responding. When she answered the call, a male voice said something, but the club was too loud. “Hang on just a minute, please. I can’t hear you.” She looked around – no Steve. “Hey, Vic!” she yelled. Vic broke away from a beautiful, bare-breasted brunette and came over to the bar. “Hey, I’ve got a phone call. Can you watch the bar for just a minute?”

“Yeah, but just a minute. Get your ass right on back here,” he said. He’d never talked to her like that before, and she was taken aback, but she didn’t have time to worry about that.

Jetting out the side door behind the bar, she put the phone back up to her ear. “Yeah, sorry about that. Can I help you? Are you calling about the ad for a roommate.”

“No.” Something about the voice made her feel odd. “Laura? Laura Billings?” Her hands went cold and a buzzing started in her ears. “Billings?”

“Who the hell is this?” she growled into the phone.

“Laura, I’m so sorry to call you and drag all of this up. This is Brewster. Please don’t hang up on me.”

“DON’T CALL ME AGAIN!” Laura screamed into the phone, then hit END and dropped the phone on the ground. It promptly rang again; same number.

She stared at the phone. Everything was coming at her in a rush, and the earth seemed to tilt. She hit ACCEPT and asked through gritted teeth, “What the hell do you want?”

“Laura, please, don’t hang up. I need to talk to you. I want to make this right; we all do. Well, almost all of us. I hear a lot of noise in the background. Can I call you later? Or tomorrow? It’s important.”

“I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to call me. How did you find me?” she was whispering, feeling so weak that she could barely speak.

“Billings, I know it’s hard to believe, but I want to make this right. It’s eaten at me for years, ruined my life and I’m betting yours too, and it’s time to man up. Please. Let me do this, me and the others. Please?”

Laura’s head was spinning and she felt like she was going to throw up. It was a little late for an apology, but it was more than she’d gotten over the last sixteen years, sixteen years of sheer hell. “Call me tomorrow. Ten o’clock tomorrow morning. That’s Eastern Time.”

“Okay. Ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Will do.” The phone went dead. Laura stood staring at the phone, her hands trembling so violently that she could barely hold it. After a minute or two, she walked back through the side door and up to the bar.

“Where the hell were you?” Vic barked. Then he got a good look at her face. “God, Laura, what’s wrong?” She stared at the bar, and Vic grabbed her arms and spun her to look at him. “Talk to me. What is it?”

Laura shook his hands off. “Don’t touch me. Leave me alone. Nothing’s wrong.” She grabbed the towel and started wiping.

She heard Vic say, “That’s a lie. I don’t believe it for a minute. And when you decide you need someone to talk to about whatever just happened, find me. I can’t speak for anyone else, but you can always trust me. I’d never hurt you, not in a million years.” Laura turned to apologize to him for the way she’d talked to him, but he was gone.

Vic walked into the men’s locker room and leaned against the wall. He knew damn well something had happened, but the ice princess wasn’t going to tell him what or take any help from anyone. And he was done with trying to get someone who didn’t want to be around him to open up to him. That was a dead-end street, and he’d walked down too many of them already.

From Renovating a Heart,

Book 3 in the

Love Under Construction Series

A
n hour and fifteen minutes into his Wednesday work day, his phone buzzed. “Steve, your nine thirty appointment is here.”

“Yeah, okay, it’s . . .”

“Miss Markham?”

Steve wracked his brain – he didn’t know a woman named Markham. “Send her on in.” He put his jacket and his professional face on, then took his seat behind the big mahogany desk.

The door opened and Angela, Steve’s assistant, ushered the woman in. Steve’s eyes went wide and a huge smile spread across his face. “Kelly!”

“Hi Steve! Wow, nice office!”

“Thanks! I didn’t recognize your last name. Glad to see you! Want something to drink?” She shook her head. “So what can I do for you?” he asked, motioning for her to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Pinkness spread across her cheeks and her hands shook as she pulled a document out of her purse. “I talked to Nikki. She said you were the person I needed to talk to; she said you’d understand.” Steve unfolded the document she passed to him.

It was a submissive’s contract. He blinked a couple of times to be certain he was seeing it correctly. Sure enough, the submissive’s name was plain on the top of the document: Kelly Markham. Now he understood why Nikki had sent her to him. “This was very well done. Did he break the contract with you?”

“Sort of.” Kelly’s gaze fell to her hands in her lap. “He passed.”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! How long ago was this?”

“Nine years.” She sniffed. “I still miss him every day.”

Steve came around from his desk chair to the armchair next to Kelly. “So how can I help?”

“He made this out thinking it would protect me. Then when he died and we weren’t married, his kids took everything, even some of the gifts he’d given me over the years. I’m about the same age as they are, so they saw me as a gold-digger who just wanted him for his money. They even called me a pervert because they didn’t understand our lifestyle. I would’ve married him if he’d ever asked, but he never did. But he loved me, he really did, and I loved him. Even though I could’ve used the money, I just gave up – it wasn’t about money to start with. And I’ve done okay until Friday when I lost my job. We think they want to close the branch of the insurance company where I worked, and they just laid me off. I’ve got three months’ severance and I’ll draw unemployment, but it’s not much. I know Dom/sub contracts aren’t legally binding, but I was wondering if . . .”

“No, they’re not. But this one clearly shows intent. He genuinely thought he’d protected you by making this contract. I wish it had worked.” Steve thought for a minute. “You know, I don’t want to get your hopes up, but let me see if I can find something, a case precedent or a loophole, anything, that could help. Can I make a copy of this?”

“Sure! Please! How much will you charge me? Because I don’t have any . . .”

“You’re Nikki’s friend, and you took Laura in when she needed a place to hide. Just consider this my way of repaying you.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t . . .”

“Oh yes, you can and you will.” Steve took the contract out to Angela and asked her to make him a copy. When he came back, he asked Kelly, “Did Nikki by any chance tell you . . .”

“That you’re in the lifestyle? Yeah. That’s why she told me to come and talk to you.”

“Did she tell you that I have a fetish club in Lexington?”
Boy, I’d love to see her in nothing but a smile!
, he thought.

“No! She didn’t! I’d love to visit sometime.” Kelly’s eyes were sparkling now.

“I’d love for you to visit. We’ll be open tomorrow night. If you’d like to come by, I’ll show you around.”

“I’ll do that. And thanks, Steve. I really appreciate this.”

“No problem.” As she left, he handed her a card for the club with his signature on the back. He was glad she’d come in, and he hoped she’d come by and like the club enough to stick around, because he was itching to see those tits bare. He knew they were fake, but they were real enough for him.

I hope you enjoyed these excerpts from the
Love Under Construction
series, and don’t forget the free introductory volume, The Groundbreaking, to learn the back stories of the main characters in the series. Check your favorite online retailer for the format that works best with your electronic device.

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