Longing: Club Inferno (9 page)

She tried to follow his movements, but he knew she couldn’t see what he was doing. He set a chair down at just the right spot, guided her down into the soft leather seat, and walked back to his equipment.

“Clint?” she asked.

“In a second,” he said. “I want you to let your knees fall open.”

He adjusted the camera’s focus so it took in her seated form. Crawling in front of the camera, Clint approached her on his hands and knees. Slithering up to her body, he kissed from her ankle up to her calf. He gave a quick lick on the back side of her knee and felt her quiver. He’d go back to that spot later. Shouldering her knee aside, he traced the outside of her labia with his finger. She gasped and tried to shut her legs but wound up just squeezing his chest.

“Now, my mouth is going to be busy for a few minutes. I’m going to need you to keep talking to me. Understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered again. He rewarded her by licking one long stroke inside her. “Oh, Clint. Yes.”

Placing her legs on his shoulders, he tongued her slit with short quick strokes, lapping at her hot, wet folds.

“Talk to me,” he reminded her, and concentrated, circling her clit.

“I…want you. I want to feel your…oh…hard…cock inside me. Clint!” Anya cried out. “More.” She gripped the back of his head and held him there.

Surprised by her boldness and aroused at her action, he gave her more. His tongue flickered and licked. He sucked on that quivering bud.

“Please,” she sobbed. “So close. Oh, don’t stop. I need you. Clint.”

He liked hearing her go crazy. She was so soft and responsive. Her little pants and moans were making him forget that he was filming. He wanted her on his cock, riding him, bouncing on him.

Patience,
he told himself. If she wanted a one-night stand, she wasn’t getting one from him. He’d keep her coming back for more. If that meant he had to wait to sheathe his cock in that liquid heat, he would wait. Because he wasn’t giving up on her. Reaching up, he tugged her nipple and she responded by bucking into his face. Yeah, some soft nipple clips while she was on all fours would have her backing up on his cock. Shudders racked him as he increased the licking on her clit. He put two fingers inside her, and she clamped down on them.

“Fuck me,” she begged. “Just like that.”

“Oh no,” he said. “I’m much bigger than this.”

Too bad there wasn’t another person in here. He’d like to get a close up of her face as she came. Next time. Clint went for it, his tongue swirling around her heat. He couldn’t wait to edit this and watch her come.

“Mmmm,” he moaned into her core, and her thighs quivered.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

He felt she was close in the jerky way her body moved.

“Clint,” she cried out, her body tensing. Her fingers tangled in his hair. Soft little sounds of pleasure caressed his ears.

He didn’t want to be done with her. She was so wet, so willing. He could put her on her back and be inside her before her next shuddering breath. He contented himself with hearing her little cries as he didn’t let up on her clit, until he got his raging hard-on under control.

Dinner or not, she’d see him tomorrow.

He eased away from her, kissing her thighs as he closed them.

“Clint?”

He retrieved her dress and helped her into it. “What did you think of your first scene?”

“Wow,” she said. “Can I take the blindfold off?”

“Not yet.” He left her standing there for a moment while he turned off the camera and equipment. “Come on, I’ll walk you back up to your room.”

And it would be the hardest thing on earth to leave her tonight.

The phone was ringing.

Anya pulled the covers over her head.

The phone kept ringing.

She ignored it and concentrated on the nice dream where Clint did more than kiss her breathless and tell her to sleep well.

The phone stopped.

Oh, thank you.

It started again.

“What?” she snarled into the phone.

“What’s the scale say?” Trey asked.

“It says go to hell. I was sleeping.” Anya sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Get up and tell me how you’re doing.”

Tossing the covers back, Anya considered dropping her cell in the toilet and letting him hear the flush. But not only did she need the phone, she was sure the phone would cut off before the sound effects would hit. Flicking on the bathroom light, she winced in the mirror. That crazy bedhead look she thought was so hot last night had taken on a life of its own. Hopefully, the leave-in conditioner would tame it. Touching the rats’ nest at the back, Anya rather doubted it. She’d also forgotten to take off her mascara last night. She looked like a demented raccoon.

“Well?”

“Can I call you back after I’ve woken up a bit?”

“No.”

“Don’t you have any other clients to bother?”

“The director is on my ass.”

She squinted at the clock. It was eight a.m. Damn it. She’d missed Clint at the pool. She had been hoping to convince him to hit the gym with her. Her stomach growled. After her breakfast of a chalky chocolate beverage, of course.

“How can he be on your ass? He’s not even up yet.”

“I like to be proactive.”

“Did you know Cesare was bankrolling this play?”

The silence on the line wasn’t a denial.

“He isn’t the one who’s demanding I lose weight?” Anya didn’t really believe it. He’d never complained about her curves, had even been enthusiastic about them.

“No, he doesn’t even know you’re up for the part. He’s pushing for Rita.”

“Of course he is,” Anya said, and stepped on the scale.

Same as yesterday.

Panic fluttered in her chest. It must have been the salt from the drinks last night. She was retaining water. Or maybe the alcohol slowed her metabolism.

“Come on, sister, I don’t have all day.”

“I’m down five pounds,” she lied.

Trey grunted. “Good. Keep it up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Anya sank down on the bathroom floor, dejected. It didn’t make any sense. She should have been burning calories, not plateauing. She concentrated on drinking her water and made sure to eat as little as possible. She wasn’t eating anything and she felt like a cranky bitch. Isn’t that what dieting was all about? If she saw another celery stalk she’d run the other way screaming.

It took another two hours of pampering and primping until she felt normal again. Her schedule was free, but after the gut-wrenching number on the scale, Anya didn’t feel like seeking Clint out. She tanked a breakfast drink and made a face. It was time to get serious with the exercising.

Since she’d missed her yoga class, she headed straight for the gym. Two models she recognized from a few magazine shoots were on the elliptical. They didn’t look up from the game show playing on the television on the wall. Anya spent an hour on the treadmill; toward the end she was getting light-headed so she refilled her water bottle after draining it in a few long gulps.

She hated exercising. It was supposed to energize you and make you feel refreshed. Bullshit. Anya was tired and cranky. Her back hurt. Dragging herself back to her room, she almost stepped on an envelope that had been slid under her door. Anya closed the door and locked it, stifling a yawn. Carrying the square envelope into the bathroom, she turned on the shower so it got nice and hot. Stripping down, she stepped on the scale. Now it said she had gained two pounds.

“I hate you,” she told it.

She opened up the envelope, and a CD slid out. No, a DVD. In marker it had last night’s date on it and “Password = Last night’s drink.”

“What the hell?”

She let the shower run while she pulled on a robe and fired up her computer. She slotted the disc in and sure enough a password request came up. Since the only drink she’d had was shots of tequila, Anya typed it in.

Was this from Clint?

Her lips filled the screen. The shower grew cold as she watched the movie Clint had made of them.

Holy shit.

Anya started to hyperventilate and scurried to her phone.

Who else has this movie?
she texted Clint.

She started pulling clothes out. She was going to find him and then she was going to kill him. Fortunately, he texted back right away.

Just me. And it will stay that way.

Anya dialed the phone. “I did not give you permission to film me!” she shouted into the phone. She winced at her shrill tone.

“That was our scene. If you want me to destroy my DVD, I will. There are only two copies.” His voice was calm and sincere. She caught a hint of amusement in it. Was he laughing at her? Did he show it to all the Doms to get a kick out of it?
Look at the fat chick I had jiggling around last night.

Anya closed her eyes and reminded herself that Clint wasn’t a jerk. And more important, Colleen wouldn’t hire anyone without a substantial background check. Of course all that meant was if he was a criminal, he hadn’t gotten caught.

“Yes,” she said, cradling her stomach. She was going to be sick. “Please destroy it.”

“Of course. Did you like it?”

“No,” Anya said, staring at the image of her splayed out with an erotic, satisfied smile on her face. Truthfully, she hadn’t really seen it. She had been too shocked.

“Why not?” His voice was warm and affectionate.

It snapped her back into her anger. “Because you took advantage of me.”

“What?” Clint sounded horrified.

Welcome to the club.

“I trusted you.” Tears filled her eyes. If this got out on the Internet, she’d be so ashamed.

“How did I betray that trust?” Horror faded to what sounded like confusion.

“You took pictures of me without my consent.”

“That recording is for your eyes and my eyes only. Now that I’ve erased my copy, it’s there only for yours.”

“H-how do I know that?” Anya stammered out.

In the silence, she wanted to take those words back but she also wanted to know the answer.

“How can I convince you?” he finally said. His voice was devoid of warmth or humor.

Anya wasn’t sure. She could ask to see the destroyed disc or the camera, but he had plenty of time to make a backup.

“Why don’t we talk to Colleen?” he said. “I’ll make an appointment with her for this afternoon.” He hung up.

Colleen? What did she have to do with anything?

Anya popped the disc out and tossed it in the trash can, then thought better of it and put it in a drawer. She might need it for evidence or something. Closing her eyes, she swayed a bit. Her head ached.

He texted.
Three o’clock. Colleen’s office.

Cranky from her cold shower and creamless coffee, Anya, fortified with ibuprofen, strode into Colleen’s office and quickly lost her anger when she caught Nefertiti crying softly.

“What happened?” she asked, going to her friend.

“It’s nothing,” Nefertiti said. “Stupid Facebook video of a soldier surprising his kid. My hormones are all over the place.” She wiped her eyes.

Anya forced her own eyes from the box of chocolates on Nefertiti’s desk. “Is Colleen in?”

“She’s on a conference call. I keep hearing her swear a blue streak, so I think she’s talking to Chase Fairwood.”

Anya perched a hip on the desk, interested in spite of herself. “I thought that ship had sailed.”

“Looks like it’s back in port. He donated a shitload of cash to Mallory’s shelter. It allowed them to put in the clinic that we went to.”

“How much is a shitload?”

“Enough that she’s taking his calls again.”

Anya ran her fingers over Nefertiti’s desk, remembering Clint’s kissing her there. It had been a nice beginning to a fun time. She’d figured maybe there would be feathers and candle wax along the way. Anya hadn’t expected to be dumped into the kink with a film of her getting off. She knew she’d overreacted, but he had surprised her. It was such a shock seeing herself so open and bodacious. It brought back old suspicions that she was being made fun of. But now that she thought about it, Clint hadn’t been laughing. It probably would have been sexy to watch the video together.

“Why so glum?”

Shrugging, Anya crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I made a mistake.”

Nefertiti leaned back in her chair. “Oh yeah? What happened?”

Clint walked in and gave her a curt nod before sinking into a chair and crossing a leg over his knee. He glared at her and then pulled out his phone, ignoring her.

Anya traded glances with Nefertiti.

“You want to grab dinner later?” Nefertiti asked.

Yes!
her whole body screamed.

“I can’t. Trey’s on my ass to lose weight. He’s calling me at six every morning for the daily weigh-in.”

“That sucks. But you still have to eat.”

“I’m doing a liquid thing.”

Nefertiti wrinkled her nose. “It’s not safe. Or long-term.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I just have to sign the contract.”

The buzzer sounded on Nefertiti’s desk. “Are they here?” Colleen’s voice was tinny over the little speaker.

“Yes.”

“Send them in.”

Anya didn’t look at Clint as he held the door open for her. He closed it behind them and took a seat. Going over to the bar, she grabbed a diet cola and offered one to Colleen.

“I’m good,” Colleen said. “Now, what’s this I hear about a dungeon scene going wrong?”

Clint looked at Anya expectantly.

Anya glanced away. “It didn’t go wrong. I just wasn’t aware I was going to be filmed.”

“So what’s the problem?” Colleen said.

“I told her I deleted all copies but the one she’s currently in possession of, but she doesn’t believe me.”

Anya winced. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I just don’t…know if you…”

“You think I’m lying and saved a copy for myself.”

“No. I just don’t know if you did.”

“I did not.” He cursed. “I hadn’t realized this would be a trigger for you.”

“Anya,” Colleen said. “I can vouch for Clint. If he said he erased the film and destroyed the copy, he did.”

Anya held Colleen’s gaze and saw the truth in it.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Clint.

“Forget it,” he said, standing up. “Are we done here?” he asked Colleen.

“Yeah,” Colleen said, giving him a sad smile.

Anya stood in place until he left, not quite slamming the door behind him. “You told me he played games.” She sat in the chair across from Colleen’s desk.

“He does. His kink is filming people having sex and recording it for their pleasure.”

“Now you tell me?” Anya said.

“You had sex with him and didn’t know you were being filmed?”

“We didn’t have sex and I was blindfolded.”

Colleen shook her head. “He wouldn’t risk the liability of not destroying the recordings.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I wouldn’t hire him if he was the type of man to do that.”

“How would you know?” Anya asked, swigging her soda.

“I’m a good judge of character,” Colleen said. “Not just a pretty face with big tits.” She gestured to them.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Are you on the rag?” Colleen frowned at her.

“Nice talk, sugar mouth. No.” Although, that would explain why the scale had stalled.

“Because you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s done. Let it go.”

“It’s gone,” Anya said, dusting off her hands. “Just like all my other romantic involvements.”

“Did you at least have fun?”

Anya nodded glumly. “The best.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, because you just fucked up a repeat performance.” Colleen motioned at the door.

“I think I’m going to go back to bed and forget this day ever happened.” Anya got up from the chair.

“I’ve had days like that.”

“See you later.” Anya saluted Colleen with her soda can and left the office.

“How did that go?” Nefertiti asked.

“Like a car crash.”

“You going to let that fine man walk away?”

Anya snorted. “Like he’d touch me with a ten-foot pole now.”

Nefertiti raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think his pole is ten feet, but it’s up there.”

Anya cracked a smile. “No, this time it’s my ship that sailed. Actually my ship is the fucking
Titanic
. Let’s talk about your love life.”

“Speaking of going down into the frigid arctic waters,” she quipped.

“I think you and I need to go to Club Inferno tonight.”

Nefertiti raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give up on men. You’ll find someone who’ll put up with your dumb ass. Besides, I don’t swing that way.”

“No, idiot. This is part of my plan to get you-know-who to fall madly in love with you.”

“Is it going to work as well as your love life?”

“Better,” Anya vowed, but her fingers were crossed behind her back.