Jenna's Consent (11 page)

He knew he wanted her.

But now he was certain he’d do everything in his power to
convince her that thirty days wasn’t nearly enough for them to explore what
they could be together.

He caught sight of his collar around her throat, the lights
glinting off the lock he added at the last minute.

His arousal kicked into high gear, with the knowledge that
she belonged to him now.

Tomorrow would come and he could handle anything that
happened because today he owned the most precious thing he’d ever been able to
touch.

Heat radiated off him and he moved his legs a bit farther
apart. Tension bled off him as his muscles strained toward his climax.

Jenna moved onstage and he saw every detail. One of her
hands moved behind her and she tucked her fingers in the rope, constricting her
breathing around her chest.

The other hand moved along the lines of jute wrapping her
leg, then settled over her mound and then her pussy.

It looked like she moved her panties over, pressing her
fingers beneath to her bare flesh.

Cum erupted from the head of his cock as he lost control of
his orgasm. He decided when he came. And he came only when he was good and
ready.

But the sight of Jenna in rope, pleasuring herself was more
than he could ignore.

His cock jerked, shooting cum all over his hand.

Her scent reached his olfactory senses, giving him the
illusion that he could scent her across the club and up a couple floors.

Her fingers moved faster and faster until she cried out,
jerking in the rope.

A groan slipped free of his chest and he clenched his teeth,
trapping any more sounds before they could spill into the room.

Sexiest fucking submissive he’d ever seen.

He’d wanted her before.

Lusted after her.

But now?

His cock jerked again, wanting to stay hard so he could take
her on the stage as soon as he fucking could.

He grabbed tissues and cleaned up, throwing the evidence in
the trash. He tucked himself back into his slacks and his brain was finally
clear enough he could process a few things that he really needed to know.

Tying was vastly different to every rigger. The direction
and flow of the rope, was determined normally by the style they favored.
Western, more traditional or a combination of the two, were pretty typical. But
a lot of the riggers had a flare of innovation since they were continuously
growing in their rope journey. He noticed how she tied, watching the nuances of
her style. Where she put the rope. It was all in places she could cover up with
her corset and black leather pants.

It made sense why the people in the club hadn’t discovered
her yet even though they were so close. Even when she should have been able to
be completely free, something still bound her.

She hid everything, pushing something so integral as rope
into the recesses of her mind. That was no longer going to be an option for
her, since the cat was now out of the bag. Being a self-rigger was amazing and
he’d be damned if she continued hurting herself by hiding it.

And he had every intention of tanning her hide about doing
it without a spotter she knew about nearby. He knew some riggers thought they
were above the safety shit and he’d beat some sense into her if she was one of
those.

Safety shears.

He didn’t see any on her, nor a knife.

He favored his right hand for close-up personal punishment,
and his palm tingled. Her backside was going to be on fire once she wasn’t so
drunk on rope he could have a decent conversation with her.

He glanced at his watch, noticing the time. He’d walked in
around five, giving him a vague notion of how long it took her to get started
and really begin to tie. Had to be close to thirty minutes by now.

She couldn’t stay up much longer than another twenty minutes
without substantially increasing the probability of nerve damage or worse.

He stood, grabbing the other chair and shoving it back under
the desk where it belonged.

He glanced at the monitor one more time, catching another
glimpse of Jenna in her rope. He reached for the door knob, ready to go to her,
to get her down and take care of her.

Whether she wanted it or not was of no consequence.

Her status with him and at the club itself had changed from
the moment she agreed to be his. The collar around her neck proved it in a very
real way.

One more look around the space proved it was in the same
shape he’d found it in.

Upon opening the door he almost growled.

Striding toward the office was Bryan, the owner of Rugged
Security and really—though he didn’t like to think of it this way—his new boss.

“Thought you’d left a while ago.” Bryan said by way of
greeting as he stepped inside the room.

Mine
, almost slipped out but Nick swallowed the word,
feeling it all the way down until it dropped like a brick into the pit of his
stomach.

Before Nick could stop himself, he stepped between Bryan and
the monitor Jenna was on. Sure he still had a hold of the door handle and
leaned against it, full of cocky assuredness that he had nothing to worry
about.

But he couldn’t stop himself from doing it.

That in and of itself was a giant fucking red flag.

“Had a few things come up last minute that needed some
attention. I have to grab something and then I’ll finally be ready to sack
out.”

Bryan crossed his arms over his chest, nodding toward the
wall of camera views. “Everything run smoothly tonight? No issues with the new
access control system, I take it? I was out most of the night, chasing ghosts
in the new firmware update. I think we’re back on track now.”

“The club was fine. All the scenes were good, no one
accessed any sections they weren’t authorized to based off the log in the
system I pulled earlier, but I’ll review the footage tomorrow, like normal,
just to make sure.”

“Good.”

Nick glanced at his watch, not even trying to cover up the
fact that he needed to be somewhere. His back twitched, wanting to turn around
and check on Jenna but he didn’t want Bryan catching wind of anything being
amiss.

His need to protect her went well above and beyond his
loyalty to the new guy. He was ready to say
adios
, but Bryan looked at
him.

“So you used to fight MMA.”

Nick nodded once, not that surprised he’d dug around in his
past, not that it took much digging. Most of the crew knew what he did before.

“Retired a couple years ago.”

“Why’d you quit?”

“I retired. Same reason most people stop fighting
professionally. Wear and tear, age plays a huge factor, having different goals.
If you’re head’s not in the game you can get hurt or worse.”

“Jackson wasn’t a fighter.”

“No, he was one of my training partners. And he could fight
circles around me after a full workout and several fights. He’s a machine. Just
didn’t like the limelight and everybody being in his space all the damn time.”

“How’d you and the Kennedys meet? They said they‘ve known
you for years but we haven’t had time to talk about it.”

“We met through a fellow international rigger. Ran into each
other a few times, had common interests. Stayed in touch.”

“And then you suggested Jackson. Makes sense.” He nodded,
heading over to a filing cabinet. “It’s late. I need to grab a file and then
I’m out. For a few hours at least.”

“Me too.” Bryan’s back turned to the monitors, giving him an
opportunity to check on Jenna. She’d transitioned to a slightly different
position but with the mask on he couldn’t tell if she was in trouble or not.

He shook his head, clearing it so he could focus on Bryan
and get out.

He needed to get his head back on straight. He was her Dom.
For thirty days, not a lifetime. Assessing her needs was priority number one.
First he was going to take her down, care for her, spank her ass red and then
fuck her so maybe he could sleep a few hours without downing in lust.

After they both got some rest, he needed to give her what he
knew she needed.

A ménage.

Like with rope, he suspected any of her larger-than-life
reactions more than highlighted things that were very important to her.

Before he thought too hard about it or second-guessed
himself he asked, “You up for a threesome?”

Bryan twisted just enough so he could eye Nick. He did so
for almost a full minute, saying nothing. His mouth didn’t move, his eyebrow
didn’t twitch. He gave nothing away.

Nick could respect that.

“Why ask me? Why not Jackson?”

Nick stood to his full height and mirrored Bryan’s earlier
stance with crossed arms. “He’s with Skye and they’re all into each other.
Skye’s not into chicks and she’s not cool with Jackson doing anything on his
own.

“I need a third and my girl’s a bit skittish with being
shared. She’s fighting what she needs and her time of
push me, pull me
with her fear is at an end. She doesn’t know you and that will make it much
easier for her to wrap her mind around it. During and afterward. It’ll be
better that way.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Chris and Jared hired you. They don’t hire assholes.”

Bryan’s lips curled into a smirk and he chuckled before
answering. “Touché.” He did some kind of mental tabulations in his head before
asking, “Who?”

“Jenna.”

“Jenna?” It didn’t come out a question, it came out an
accusation. “She’s the submissive you claimed for a month?”

Bryan didn’t just sound surprised. He sounded possessive.
Pissed off even. Nick second-guessed his decision but Bryan continued.

“Dude, sorry.” He ran a hand over his spiky blond hair,
giving it a tug before leaning against the drawer he had open. “It’s been one
long-ass night and that hit me like a baseball bat.”

“Why?” Nick asked skeptically.

“At a vanilla place of business, two employees dating is
like a hornet’s nest waiting to erupt. Change that vanilla into sex at a BDSM
club and you’re asking for trouble. You sure it’s a good idea? She might not
want it at all or me to be involved.” He stared Nick down. The look would have
cowed a lesser man.

Thankfully, Nick was immune. “She wants it. I’d bet my left
nut she craves it above anything else. She’s given herself over to me and
placed her body, mind and spirit into my keeping. The last thing I’m going to
do is take advantage or defile her. If you’re not interested, than just say so
but don’t question me on what my girl needs.”

“Your girl? Thought it was just temporary.”

“We’ll see.”

“She’s damn attractive.”

Where that came from, Nick didn’t know but he didn’t need
any more time to contemplate the offer before he took it off the table.

“I’m in. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“You seem awfully unsure about this. The last thing she
needs is to be surrounded by uncertainty of any kind, even if it’s really not
directed at her.”

“Fucking an employee of the club I’m employed by seems
vaguely entrenched in gray area.”

“I’m sure Jared and Chris told you what they allow and what
they don’t. Sex with a coworker isn’t in the no-fly zone.”

“Just because it isn’t on theirs doesn’t mean I’m
automatically okay with something. I appreciate you asking, man. As I said
before, I’m in. Text me the details and I’ll be there. Trust me, I wouldn’t
miss the chance to get inside her.”

“She’s going to be blindfolded when it happens, so she can
just be herself and let all the other bullshit go. You’ll be anonymous.”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll send you the info when I decide when it needs to
happen.”

Bryan agreed, turning back toward the filing cabinet with no
other words to accompany his nod.

“I’m out if you don’t need anything.”

“I’m good.”

Thank fuck.

Nick didn’t waste time getting to the stage. He grabbed a
blanket out of his playroom and jogged the rest of the way.

Seeing her on the monitor had been something. Watching her
self-rig had blown his damn mind. Watching her tie with such passion and
practiced ease multiplied the desire rushing through his veins.

Seeing her live and in person, twirling in her own rope,
highlighted from the lights above made pride swell inside him until it
threatened to burst free.

She was nothing but breathtaking as he crossed the room to
the steps on the left and up onto the stage.

He spread the blanket out close to the frame, keeping an eye
on her for signs of struggle or distress. If she’d given him any indication
either on the camera or hanging before him that she needed immediate help he
would have pulled the safety knife from his pocket and cut her down.

Rope be damned. It could be replaced.

The knife could be used for other naughty things too, which
is why he carried it on him even when he wasn’t tying.

Always.

Blood pooled in her leg and foot creating a bluish tint to
her skin. It was expected for the kind of tie she was in much less the duration
she’d been up. She wiggled her top foot, curling her toes. That simple movement
told him what he needed to know about her immediate safety and he mentally
tipped his hat to her again on her skill level and her degree of fitness.

Respect for her crept up a few hundred notches as he walked
past her to grab a hank of rope from her bag. He’d have preferred his own rope but
time could have been of the essence.

Her eyes flickered open as he closed the distance between
them but he remained quiet, giving her time to adjust to his presence.

A rigger in their own rope should be awarded the same
courtesy during a scene as anyone else. It was unwritten rules not to touch
their working rope and not to rush in and take them down or interfere in
anyway.