Hero (9 page)

It only took a few minutes to get through the bar, around the dance floor, and back to the corridor that led to the private rooms. Luckily, one that contained a spanking bench was open. Suddenly, I couldn’t stop thinking about the scene in Chloe’s book, the one with the submissive bound to the spanking bench while her Dom tormented her with pleasure and pain. That fantasy had come from Chloe’s mind. I’d help make it a reality.

I shifted her body, carefully setting her down on her strappy black high heels. Jason stepped behind her, crowding her between the two of us. Her breath caught, her eyes darkened.

“Hold her,” I commanded.

Jason’s grin turned savage as he caught her upper arms and pulled them back, making her arch toward me. Her cleavage strained against her corset. I brushed my fingertips along the upper swells of her breasts before pressing my palm against her heated skin, relishing the way her heart fluttered beneath my touch.

“I want you naked for this,” I told her. “I’m going to strip you so we can both admire you. I want access to your entire body.”

Her lips parted, and she blew out a shuddering breath. Her heartbeat sped up. I gave her a few seconds to say no, but she didn’t protest or use her safe word.

Reading her silent consent, I reached around her, bracketing her body with my arms. She shivered, affected by my closeness.

I tugged the tie at the back of her corset, slowly pulling at the laces until the garment was loose enough for me to unsnap it at the front. I kept her trapped in my gaze as I worked, not giving her the option to hide from me. As I stripped away her clothes, I stripped away the protective armor around her soul, revealing the soft submissive within.

The hooks came free, and I let the corset drop to the floor. The steel bones had left grooves in her skin. I traced the indentations with my fingertips. Her skin pebbled, and her nipples tightened. They were a perfect, dusky pink against her naturally tanned skin. I finally freed her from my gaze so I could admire her breasts for the first time. I cupped them in my hands, rubbing my palms across her hard nipples. She gasped, and her head dropped back against Jason’s shoulder as her eyes slid closed.

“Look at me,” I commanded, not liking the way she leaned on him when I was the one dominating her.

Her chocolate eyes found mine again. I caught her tight buds between my fingers, pinching and pulling lightly. She moaned, and her long lashes fluttered.

“No. Keep your eyes on me. Watch what I’m doing to you.” I gave her nipples a particularly harsh twist, commanding her attention. She cried out, and her gaze locked on mine again. I rolled her hard peaks, easing the sting I’d inflicted. “Good girl.”

I lingered there, lavishing attention on her nipples until she was panting with need.

“Should we see how wet you are?” I asked, moving my hands to her hips. I hooked my thumbs through the top of her skirt and the elastic band of her panties before sliding them both slowly down her thighs. She stepped out of them when they reached her ankles, leaving her completely bare before me.

Her eyes were no longer on mine; they were riveted on my hands, watching as I dipped two fingers between her legs, testing her. Silky, warm wetness coated them. I stroked her labia, gathering up the evidence of her arousal before circling her clit with my forefinger. She rocked her hips toward me. Jason shifted his grip on her so one hand held her wrists while his free arm snaked around her waist, holding her back.

I continued to tease around her clit. “You won’t get away from Jason,” I told her in my deepest voice. “We’re in control now. We’re going to take care of you. And I think you like that.” I left her clit to swirl my fingers in the wetness that now coated her inner thighs. My lips curved in a pleased smile. “You definitely like it. Look how wet our pretty sub has gotten already,” I spoke to Jason, but I didn’t take my eyes off her. I lifted my glistening hand for their inspection. Then I gave in to the desire that had tormented me during our first scene: I sucked my fingers into my mouth and tasted her. Her eyes widened and her cheeks colored, making her appear innocent and untouched.

Maybe no one had touched her like this before. Like she was owned, like every part of her body and every aspect of her pleasure belonged to her Dom.

I might not be her Dom, but she was mine for tonight. And I’d make sure she knew what it meant to be truly mastered. I’d only given her a shadow of domination so far. This time, she’d feel my hands on her. I’d watched her carefully, waiting for her to use a safe word as I touched her pussy with propriety.

She hadn’t asked me to stop; she’d only gotten wetter for me.

Now, no part of her was off-limits. And I fully intended to explore all of her.

“Strap her down,” I told Jason. “I want better access to her pretty pussy. And I think we’ll need a plug.”

“Wait!” she gasped as he manhandled her toward the spanking bench. “I didn’t say you could plug me.”

“You have your safe word,” I reminded her calmly, helping Jason arrange her squirming body on the bench. She didn’t protest as I cuffed her ankles in place, spreading her legs wide so her pussy and asshole were on display. I gathered up some of her wetness and spread it around the puckered bud, teasing. She whimpered and writhed, but Jason had secured her arms. She wasn’t going anywhere.

He crossed the room to an ebony chest of drawers and retrieved a small anal plug, new in the packaging. He quickly removed the plastic and coated the toy with lubricant.

I continued to stimulate her ass. “Have you ever been plugged before?”

“Yes, Sir,” the admission came out on a squeak.

“By a Dom?”

“No. I…” she panted and jerked against her restraints as I continued to tease her.

“Tell me,” I prompted.

“I did it myself,” she said in a shy whisper. “I wanted to know what it felt like.”

“For your research,” I concluded.

Jason handed me the plug with a wicked smile. “She’s very curious like that,” he supplied. He watched me stimulate her for a few seconds longer. She moaned. “Such a kinky girl. And she likes to pretend it doesn’t get her hot. Look how wet she is.”

“Test her,” I ordered. “I want to know how she reacts when I plug her.”

“Gladly.” He eased two fingers through her slick folds.

I placed the tip of the plug at her asshole and applied gentle pressure. An adorable whine left her lips as it slipped inside.

“Based on the way her cunt’s gripping my fingers, I’d say she likes it,” Jason said, his voice roughening with lust.

“I thought she would,” I said, not bothering to conceal my cocky satisfaction. “The best way to tame a willful sub is to fill her ass. Tell me, princess. Did it feel this good when you plugged yourself?” I pushed in farther, stretching her.

“Ah! No, Sir.”

“That’s because you were in control,” I told her. “But you want to be dominated. You want to be made to submit. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered.

My first instincts had been correct. Chloe was a sub at her core, and she needed the release she’d find in surrendering to my power over her.

“She’s being such a good subbie for us,” Jason remarked. “I need to see this.”

He removed his fingers from her pussy and stepped in front of her, studying her face. “Open,” he commanded. “We might not fuck you, but I want you to know what it feels like to be filled at both ends by two Doms.”

He pressed his desire-coated fingers into her mouth, and she moaned around them.

Annoyance nipped at me. I’d liked talking to her, had enjoyed hearing her confess her secret desires to be truly dominated. I’d relished the way she called me
Sir
.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” Jason marveled, watching his fingers pump in and out of her mouth, matching time with how I gently fucked her ass with the plug.

“She hasn’t submitted for you, but she will for me,” I told him. He didn’t understand her like I did. “She knows I’ve mastered her body. And now, she’s going to come for me. Aren’t you, princess?”

I slid the plug all the way in, filling her completely. Jason’s fingers muffled her ecstatic cry, but I didn’t care anymore. I was getting high on her surrender, and Jason was part of that. He might be claiming her mouth, but I was the one who had ensnared her will, her mind.

I twisted the base of the plug, tormenting her with dark pleasure as I brought my thumb down on her clit, rubbing in a firm, practiced rhythm. She came apart with a scream, her body twisting against her restraints as her orgasm shattered her. I watched her, drinking in her ecstasy. It went straight to my head, intoxicating me more powerfully than physical pleasure ever could.

When her cries turned to quiet whimpers, I withdrew my touch, knowing she was getting overly sensitive. Jason slid his fingers out of her mouth, and her head sagged onto the spanking bench, her cheek resting against the red leather as she sucked in deep breaths.

Jason was regarding me with uncharacteristic seriousness. I placed a possessive hand on the small of her back without thinking. After a tense moment, he nodded and stepped back.

“I’ll leave aftercare to you,” he said quietly so he wouldn’t disturb her. “She’s yours.”

I frowned after his retreating back, watching him leave. What did he mean?
“She’s yours.”

He must have misinterpreted the scene dynamic. Yes, I’d wanted to take control, but that was so I could make sure Chloe got what she needed rather than allowing her to engage in a meaningless game with him.

I shook it off. It didn’t matter what Jason thought. I cared about Chloe’s wellbeing, but she wasn’t mine.

I thought back over what we’d just done. Had I gotten possessive?

That’s only because I want to protect her. I didn’t want Jason doing something that might upset her.

It was my duty as a Dom to take care of my submissive partners. And right now, Chloe needed me to hold her close and tell her how good she’d been.

I carefully unbuckled the cuffs that held her down and eased the plug out of her ass, quickly disposing of it before returning to her and pulling her up into my arms. I sat on the edge of the bench, idly petting her as I tried to untangle my thoughts.

I helped her. That’s all that matters.

The knowledge didn’t fill me with the sense of satisfaction it should. Uncertainty threaded through my gut. The two scenes we’d shared had been intense for both of us, and I hadn’t even fucked her. Right now, it was taking all my careful control to keep my hard-on at bay. I didn’t want to scare her again.

“What are you thinking about?”

I blinked and focused on her. I hadn’t realized she’d opened her eyes.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” It was the truth, even if it wasn’t the entire truth.

She smiled up at me, fully relaxed and happy. “I’m great. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” I helped her back to her feet. “Come on, we should get back to the party.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah,” she said excitedly. “Derek said he’d tell me more about how he started Decadence. It’ll be great for my research.”

Research again.
We’d just shared an intense scene, but she’d bounced right back into author mode. It made me doubt her submissive nature all over again. Maybe she was simply a hedonist who was sampling a sexual role for the benefit of her writing. Her submission might have been real, but it might not mean the same thing to her as it did to me.

I fixed my features in a genial mask. “I’m sure it will be good for your books,” I said smoothly. “Derek’s a great guy.”

She beamed at me. “Excellent. I need to go find him.”

“You go on,” I encouraged. “I need to clean up the equipment we used.”

“Oh. Do you want me to help?”

“I’ve got it. You go get the intel you need.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She practically bounced with happiness as she pulled her clothes back on and hurried out of the room, leaving me alone with my doubts.

I
stared at my laptop
, uncertain how to start my ménage scene. I could simply write about the sensations I’d experienced last night with Dex and Jason, but I couldn’t bring myself to put it into words. It was too intimate. If I put it down on the page, I’d be laying my soul bare for everyone to see.

It was disconcerting enough to realize I’d let Dex see me like that: uninhibited, completely open. I’d been achingly vulnerable, but he hadn’t hurt me. He’d promised he wouldn’t.

Carina had been right. Dex was a good man and a good Dom. I could trust him with my body without fearing violation.

The thought brought forth the memory of Neil’s cock burning inside me as he tore into my body and my heart.

I shuddered.

Don’t think about it. Think about something else.

I reached out and picked up my new notepad that I’d tossed onto the hotel desk, flipping it open to peruse the notes I’d taken last night. Derek had graciously told me all about Decadence, and I had several pages of information to work with. Surely there were enough sultry details here to help me craft a sexy scene.

Unbidden, Dex’s voice teased across my mind.

“She hasn’t submitted for you, but she will for me. She knows I’ve mastered her body. And now, she’s going to come for me. Aren’t you, princess?”

I sighed and set my notebook back down. It seemed the man had taken up residence in my head. He was the first Dom I’d ever trusted with my submission. How had he gotten me to do that?

“A good Dom earns a sub’s respect.”

Dex clearly understood BDSM better than I did. How long had he been in the lifestyle? Had he been in any D/s relationships? What made him want to be a Dom in the first place?

I glanced down to realize I’d scribbled out the questions in my notepad. I didn’t even remember picking it up. I chewed my pen cap, thinking.

I couldn’t deny that I found Dex intriguing. In fact, he would make an excellent hero in one of my books.

Making a snap decision, I picked up my phone and texted Sharon.

Can you give me Dex’s number?

Less than a minute passed before she responded with his contact information.

She followed up.
Do you need something? I know Ken’s making you work with Dex, but you can call me if you want to talk. You can ask me anything.

I smiled and typed a hasty reply.
Thanks, but I want to interview him.

Okay. I’ll warn you now, he’s not the chatty type.

I have ways of getting people to talk,
I assured her. It was a skill I’d developed as a journalist and perfected as an author. Besides, Dex didn’t strike me as strong and silent. When we’d been together, he’d been very vocal, either to chastise me for putting myself in danger or to issue low, sensual commands.

Feeling confident, I selected Dex’s contact info and connected the call.

“Scott,” he answered with his surname.

“Hi, Dex. It’s Chloe.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Chloe Martin,” I clarified.

“I know who you are, Chloe.”

More silence. Did the man not know how to talk on the phone?

“Anyway,” I continued awkwardly. “Do you want to get dinner or something?”

“Why?”

I tried to pretend that didn’t sting. When I’d decided to call him, it hadn’t even occurred to me that he might not actually want to spend time with me outside of work or the club. Even in those instances, I’d thrust myself into his life rather than being invited.

“I, um. I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Well… you. I want to know more about you.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” He didn’t sound pleased.

“No!” My denial came out more defensive than I would have liked. “I want to interview you,” I clarified. “For research.”

“Research,” he repeated blandly. He didn’t follow up with anything else.

“Um, yes,” I plowed on. “So, will you have dinner with me?”

“Okay.”

Nothing more than that one word.

God, this was like pulling teeth. Maybe Sharon was right about him not being chatty. I’d simply witnessed the exceptions to the rule.

“Will you actually talk to me, or will we be dining in awkward silence?” I challenged, a little irritated that he was making me so flustered.

“I’ll answer your questions.”

That wasn’t the same as agreeing to a conversation, but it was something to go on, at least.

“All right, then. Meet me in half an hour? There’s an Italian place next to my hotel. I don’t know if it’s any good.”

“It is.”

“How do you know where I’m talking about?”

“I asked Kennedy where you’re staying. I wanted to make sure it was somewhere secure after your run-in with the
Bratva
.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that. The reminder of the fiasco at the Russian café was a little embarrassing, but it was sweet that he’d wanted to make sure I was safe.

“I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”

He ended the call without saying goodbye.

“Huh,” I said aloud, staring down at my phone as though it could explain to me what the hell had just happened. It had been one of the oddest calls of my life. Dex hadn’t struck me as lacking social skills, but the man I’d just talked to didn’t seem to understand how a normal conversation worked.

Hopefully, it was just a phone thing. I didn’t want to go through an entire dinner like that.

Setting aside my concerns, I freshened up my makeup and changed out my tank top and yoga pants for jeans and a pretty blue silk blouse. I checked myself in the mirror, and almost decided against the blouse. It was a little low cut, and I didn’t want Dex thinking this was a date. Especially considering how displeased he’d sounded when he thought it might be.

He’d touched the most intimate parts of my body, had made me come harder than I ever had in my life, but he didn’t want to go on a date with me.

It would be upsetting, if I weren’t so relieved. I didn’t want to go on a date, either. Not with him, not with anyone. I didn’t want a man in my life telling me what I could and couldn’t do. I’d lived through that for four years with Neil, and look how it had ended.

Neil.
God, why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? Ever since I’d come to New York, he’d crossed my mind far more often than usual.

It’s not New York. It’s been happening ever since I met Dex.

In the last few days, I’d let Neil back into my head. I’d let my guard down with Dex, and somehow my ex had clawed his way through the breach in my protective walls.

Maybe dinner wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

My phone dinged, jolting me out of my brooding. It was a text from Dex.

Here.

Another one-word attempt at communication.

I sighed. If he was already at the restaurant, I had to go join him. I grabbed up my notebook and tucked it into my purse before leaving my hotel room.

Five minutes later, I found myself in front of Accardi’s, wavering.

I don’t have to go in. I can still cancel. I’ll say I’m sick.

“Chloe? What are you doing out here?” Dex strode through the restaurant entrance. Before I could process what was happening, he ensnared my hand and pulled me inside.

I tugged against his grip. “You don’t have to drag me in.”

He didn’t release me. “You shouldn’t wander around the city by yourself. There was a man watching you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I literally walked thirty feet from the hotel to get here. And I doubt anyone was watching me in the few seconds I spent outside.”

He frowned at me. “He was checking you out.”

I gaped at him. “Is that a crime?”

“No. But I—” He pressed his lips together, holding in whatever he was going to say. He dropped my hand and edged his body away from mine. “Let’s get a table.”

Unfortunately, this was turning out every bit as bad as our phone conversation.

After a few more seconds of awkward silence, the hostess showed us to a table. Dex chose the seat across from me rather than beside me, and he seemed reluctant to do even that. His gaze strayed toward the exit, as though he was debating leaving.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “You’re… I don’t know. Different.”

He ran a hand over his white-blond hair and looked down at the tablecloth. “I don’t usually do this sort of thing.”

“What sort of thing?”

He shrugged, still not looking at me. “Dinner.”

“You don’t go out to dinner,” I said blankly. I didn’t understand his strange demeanor. Dex had always been confident, both in his suit and in his leathers. I took a moment to study his appearance. He was as massive as ever, but his too-small maroon t-shirt had a hole in the sleeve, and his jeans were about an inch too short above his aged sneakers.

Okay, so he wasn’t the most fashion-savvy guy I’d ever seen.

But it was more than that. Where he had prowled through Decadence, his powerful body in display, he now seemed to keep his shoulders slightly hunched, as though to hide his size.

This was a whole new side to him I never would have expected. Suddenly, I was more eager than ever to interview him. I wanted to understand him better.

For my character research. That was why I was so intrigued.

A server came and took our drink order—un-sweet iced tea for me, water for him. I was glad he didn’t order anything alcoholic. I wanted him sharp and fully present for this interview.

“I don’t really go out at all,” Dex said abruptly, picking up our conversation again when the server left our drinks on the table.

“You go to Decadence,” I pointed out.

“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate.

“But what else do you do for fun?”

“I told you. I like to read.”

“But you must do other stuff. What are your hobbies?”

“I play games a lot.”

Was he
blushing
?

“What kind of games?”

“You know. Online games.”

“Like poker?”

“Like
World of Warcraft
.”

“Oh my god, you’re a sexy nerd!” I exclaimed, finally understanding.

He glared at me, but his cheeks had gone from pink to red.

I reached out and placed my hand over his. “That’s a good thing,” I told him quickly. “Women go crazy for a sexy nerd.”

“What do you mean? What women?”

Well, me, for one.
I chose not to admit that.

“My readers,” I said instead. “You’re totally a swoon-worthy romantic hero.”

He eyed me dubiously. “Swoon-worthy?” He appeared bewildered. It was adorable.

“Definitely,” I declared. “A nerdy, Dominant FBI agent,” I mused, more to myself than to him. “What should his name be?”

His brow furrowed. “My name is Dex.”

I waved him off. “Not you. My new character.”

“You lost me. What are you talking about?”

“Sorry. I get a little scattered sometimes. It’s a writer thing.” I reached into my purse and retrieved my notebook and pen. “I’m basing a character on you,” I explained. “That’s why I wanted to meet up. I want to know more about you.”

To my surprise, he scowled. “I don’t appreciate being mocked.”

“What?” Now I was confused. “I’m not mocking you.”

“You want me to play some bumbling character in your next book? I don’t think so.”

“Who said anything about
bumbling
? Okay, maybe you’re being a little weird right now, but that’s because you’re uncomfortable for some reason. When you’re not uncomfortable, you’re kind and protective and confident. Excellent sexy hero material.”

He shook his head. “I think you have me confused with someone else. You should be having dinner with Smith or Jason.”

“I don’t want to have dinner with either of them. Smith is a bit of a nosy asshole, and Jason is too cocky for his own good. He never takes anything seriously. But you’re sweet and caring.”

“Says who?”

I let out an exasperated huff. “Says
me.
Honestly, Dex, how do you not see that? You’re a good man. And a hell of a Dom.” Usually, I’d never feed a man’s ego like this, but he clearly needed to hear it. “How do you see yourself?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really think about it.”

“Well, you should,” I said firmly. “And I’m going to help you. Tell me about yourself. I want to know everything.” I glanced down at my open notebook, where I’d started my list of questions for him. “Why did you decide to join the FBI?”

His pale eyes settled on my pen where it hovered above the paper, and he frowned. “I’ll tell you, if you put that away. I don’t mind talking to you, but I don’t appreciate being picked apart and studied for your research.”

“All right,” I agreed, reluctantly returning my notebook and pen to my purse. My fingers itched without them, but I could take notes later. After dinner, I’d go up to my room and write down everything I could remember.

He took a deep breath. “Well, I guess you noticed that I don’t like it when people call me by my full name.”

“Yes,” I acknowledged, not sure why he was leading with this when I wanted to know about the FBI.

“That’s because I was bullied pretty badly at school. The other guys called me Poindexter, because I liked to read and made good grades, I guess. They were always finding new ways to hide or break my glasses.”

“You wore glasses?”

“I switched to contacts in college,” he said shortly. His hand curled to a fist where it rested on the table. “Anyway, middle school and high school weren’t a good time for me.”

“But you’re a big guy. Massive, really. Why didn’t you fight back?”

He grimaced. “I went through a growth spurt just before my senior year of high school. I was a pretty skinny kid before that.”

“That must have been quite a growth spurt,” I commented, my eyes roving over his corded muscles. They strained against his shirt as he tensed from the unpleasant memories. I squeezed his fisted hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s okay,” he said with a casualness I didn’t buy for one second. “You asked why I became an FBI agent. Well, that’s why. Once I got bigger, I trained in boxing. I spent my last year of high school keeping my friends safe from the popular crowd. From then on, I knew I wanted to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves. I joined the police academy when I graduated from college, and the FBI recruited me that same year.”