Blissful Surrender (6 page)

I open my mouth to reply but stop and look down at the empty glass in my hands instead. Does it make me uneasy? Or is it simply a case of the guilt bestowed upon me from the past? Shit! I look up at Helen and Rico who are both waiting for my answer.

“Fuck!” I say loudly. “You know what, Hels, you’re right. But Sean is in a whole world above that. One look down a hospital corridor and I was mush. I mean, melted into a puddle on the floor. He looked angry and annoyed and
intense
, then he saw me and that look turned to shock.” My drunken verbal diarrhea stage has begun it seems.

“You need to see him again,” Rico states directly. “You two have always had unfinished business, Sam. You broke up and then you went MIA from his life. You told me it was hard for you. Well, newsflash honey, if he was as into you as you were into him, he would have felt it just as much as you did. Us macho men may seem tough, but we feel too, you know.”

“What about Tanner?” Helen pipes up.

I narrow my eyes, confused as to what the hell my not-so-much-a-friend-with-really-good-benefits has to do with this. “What about him?”

“Does he get you all wound up like this?”

“No! Fuck no!”

Rico clears his throat and I jerk my eyes to him to see him giving me an all-knowing smile. I let my head fall back onto the couch and I groan, taking in Rico’s words of male wisdom. “Rico, do you always have to make so much fucking sense?”

“I see Sam’s dirty mouth is with us. Exactly how much has she had to drink?” He asks Helen, who starts laughing her ass off again, which starts me off. Soon enough, we’re all laughing.

Well, at least they took my mind off him I suppose.

Sean

After leaving the hospital, I went to the club to check in on things. Amy had everything under control, so once I’d made all the necessary arrangements to cover Ryan’s absence, I called for a car and headed home to my condo.

Dropping my keys on the hall table, I turn the lights on before walking up the stairs and into the living room. I pour myself a drink and walk to the front windows, leaning against them as I watch the city lights dance in front of me. The hustle and bustle of the city below calms me somehow. Even though I’m not from Chicago, this city has become my home and has held my heart for twenty-one years now. The Bears, the Cubs, the Bulls, Lake Michigan, Cloud Gate, Wicker Park, the South Loop, Michigan Avenue … the list goes on. 

I bought my condo in the middle of the city. The brick and stone exterior sold me at first, then the polished wooden floors of the living area, the mezzanine floor bedroom that I now call my own, and the rooftop that opens up to the surrounding skyscrapers. It’s bold and strong, yet welcoming with an inner warmth—a sanctuary in the middle of the busy metropolis. It is a perfect representation of me. And one day, I hope to have a wife and family here too. I mean, I am thirty-three. I suppose it’s time to start thinking about things like that.

I smile to myself briefly before the day’s events creep back into the forefront of my mind. Ryan’s epic fuck up, and Sammy. Samantha Richards. The unexpected blast from the past that has rocked me to the core.

How can she still get under my skin after all these years? Ten years is a long time for me to hold a candle. Actually a candle is too tame, too timid to describe the myriad of feelings I have for Sammy. A raging inferno or thermonuclear blast would be more apt. It had always been like that with us.

Back when we first met, I thought she was someone who understood me, accepted me, someone I could take care of and who matched me yin for yang both in and out of the bedroom. Then her harsh rejection of our relationship—of me—doused any flame between us.

Let’s be honest, I haven’t exactly lead a life of chastity since she left me. The break up affected me more than I’d care to admit, so I buried myself in school and women. It’s always been the same. If I see something that interests me, someone that catches my interest, I go after it (or them) because a long time ago I learned that you can’t bank on anything.

I make sure that the women I’m with are willing, fully aware that it’s a one-time deal, casual at best, and more than capable of giving me the power exchange I seek.

I’ve always known that I was dominant. Yes, I was a big brother who was forced to grow up quickly when my parents died, but it was more than that. When I first met Sammy, she was feisty and sassy. She gave as good as she got and that grabbed my attention. When I asked her out she declined, but offered me a challenge to capture her attention in other ways.

In the early days with Sam, I hid my controlling ways. I finally got her to say yes to a date with me after three weeks and a large bouquet of flowers delivered to her apartment every day for a week. When we started sleeping together, I slowly showed my true nature to her. At first she was hesitant, but as we traveled down the path of the mutually beneficial power exchange in the bedroom, and all the pleasures I could show her, she bloomed. She was happier, freer, and if anything she became stronger out of the bedroom, and it just made me love her even more.

But by the end, it didn’t matter anyway.

I always suspected she was a natural submissive. The beauty was that she didn’t know. It was just second nature to her. We clicked instantly because of that. Our chemistry was like dynamite. Whatever the real reason she broke up with me, whatever the lies she told me to make herself believe she was making the right decision, that was never in question.

To me, sex is a beautiful act that should be enjoyed. The act of submission, having a beautiful woman willingly submit to me, is one of the greatest gifts. I’m a dominant. I like to dominate women during sex. I own it. I don’t hide it, and I’ve never tried to. There is nothing depraved or wrong with it, and there are a number of women equally submissive who get off on being controlled. I don’t get into all the high protocol BDSM shit. For me, there is no need for presenting poses, contracts, or discussions about soft or hard limits. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy giving a damn good erotic spanking when the moment presents itself.

The club has a safe word that is used by everyone. There are viewing holes on the doors of every VIP room so the VIP Duty Manager can check on everything and everyone at any time. This is one of the important parts of the contract signed by our key holders. However, it’s their responsibility to negotiate with their partners before entering their room.

Four years ago I found myself in a position to expand my investment portfolio. I came across a nightclub in a precarious financial situation and the moment I walked into the large two-story brick and mortar building I knew I’d found what I was looking for.

Throb. My home away from home.

Having been a long time member of a few clubs in my time, I decided to mix business with pleasure—my own nightclub with private VIP rooms upstairs for exclusive use. The notoriety of those VIP rooms was enough to bring in the crowds, and for almost two years now, Throb has been one of the hippest and hottest Chicago clubs. It’s the club to see and be seen at.

Other than my condo, it’s the one place where I can be my true self. Where there are no restrictions, no judgment. To be honest, if people want to judge me and the club’s illicit reputation, then they shouldn’t have even stepped through the black marble doors. It’s that very reputation that brings people in.

Throb is also the only place where I play. I made sure that I had a personal VIP room for my exclusive use. And although I say I never take on regular subs, there was one woman who was my exception. Makenna Lewis. But that girl is every man’s exception. She was always straight up and to the point, walking to the beat of her own drum. She had different needs, and three ‘friends’ who tended to those needs. We all knew the deal, and according to Mac, we were all okay with it.

As we reached the door to my private VIP room, I turned around, pulling her so that her back was flush with the door and proceeded to take her mouth with reckless abandon. She gasped at my ferocity, allowing my probing tongue welcome access into her mouth. I remember groaning at the taste of her—tequila and lemon, I wanted to devour her.

I continued to taunt her, using the kiss as a promise to claim her body as my own just for that one night. I eased back from the kiss, lightly scraping my teeth along her lower lip, eliciting a shudder from Mac that I felt travel through her entire body.

“Tonight, baby doll, you’re mine. Do you understand that?”

She nodded, seemingly speechless. Her breathing was labored, causing my already hammering cock to harden impossibly further. I was turned on by the power she was letting me have over her, her willingness to give herself and her body over to me, and I planned to show her everything I had to give, to consume her, bring her to new heights she’d never fantasized about.

Even with just a few words spoken between us, I knew Mac was different. She wasn’t the type to get clingy, but she wasn’t indifferent either. She struck me as a woman who knew what she wanted and what she needed, and unlike Sam, she knew how to get it.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. From the moment I’d seen her across the club, I knew that I’d have her tonight. With my hand firmly gripping her hip, and the other braced on the wall beside her head, I caged her in, bringing my body in close to hers without touching. I focused on the heat raging between us, the unspoken promise of a night full of passion and satisfaction. This moment was partly to make it known that she was safe with me, but also to keep her off balance.

Moving my hand from the door, I pulled out my gold VIP key from my pocket and unlocked the door behind me. Wrapping my arm around her back, I eased the door open, guiding her body backwards into the room while slamming my mouth down onto hers. This time she met me stroke for stroke. We both lost ourselves in the kiss—sensual, erotic, and hot as fucking hell.

A growl rumbled in my chest as she tightened her grip in my hair, fisting the strands as if her life depended on it and I was her anchor. My lust soared and before I knew it the door was slammed shut behind us and her back was flat against it as I devoured every inch of exposed skin—her neck, her collarbone, that delightful spot below a woman’s ear that has them trembling every single time.

Mustering all the self-control I had, I ripped my mouth away from her, nipping a trail along her jaw before reaching her ear, deciding it was time to tell her exactly what I had planned for our time together. “You’re so fucking hot, baby doll. I can’t wait to have your ass warm from my hand. To have you laid out before me, begging to be fucked.”

I trailed my tongue down her neck, sinking my teeth into the delicate skin of her neck. There was something about Mac that pushed all my Dom buttons. The moment that I felt her body melt into mine, submitting to me, I soared. I murmured my appreciation of her body, promising to make her come hard, multiple times, promises I had every intention of following through on. I slipped my fingers between the mesh fabric of her dress, sweeping it slowly down her shoulder, drawing out the experience for both of us, exposing the expanse of her creamy skin to my hungry gaze. I followed suit with the other shoulder until the dress pooled at her feet, following the trail of the material with soft nips and open mouth kisses down her arm and back up again until I could use my tongue to trace a wet line across the curve of her surging breasts. Drawing out this part of a scene always amped up the anticipation for both of us, and Mac was as much about anticipation and delayed gratification as I was. At this stage she was gasping, her breaths coming out in short pants. It was fucking sexy to see a woman so responsive to my touch, my mouth, and it only bode well for the moment I sunk my cock eight inches deep inside of her.

“Hands on the door. Don’t move,” I commanded as I dragged my hands up to cradle her bare breasts, swiping my thumbs across her straining nipples through the silky material covering them. Mac’s raspy moan echoed around the room like erotic music to my ears. “Fucking beautiful, baby doll,” I murmured low and deep, hooking my fingers inside the corset and roughly pulling it down, exposing her naked breasts to my feasting eyes. With a lack of control I could not rationalize at the time, I dipped my mouth to taste her skin before sucking the straining peaks deeply into my mouth, raking my teeth gently against the sensitive skin.