She's All In: Club 3, Book 1 (3 page)

The family behind Carlie began preparations to leave, two of the kids peeping curiously through the ferns between the booths, so the three friends chatted about other things. Then their lunch arrived, and Daisy dug into her sandwich, too hungry to think of anything else.

She finished before the others, so she waved the waiter down for a refill on her iced tea and stirred in a fresh packet of sweetener. “So…I think Carlie’s idea is great.”

Sara stared at her, aghast, a forkful of pasta salad nearly to her mouth. “Her idea about going to their ‘club’?” She sketched a set of quotations in the air with her free hand. “Are you nuts? Daisy, in the first place, we don’t know what they do there.”

“Well, yeah, we do. They have sex. And sometimes they tie people up to have it.”

Carlie grinned at her, pushing her own empty salad plate away. “You’re crazy, you know that? I wasn’t serious.”

“Maybe not,” Daisy said. “But I’m serious. I’m desperate. I haven’t had sex in months.”

Carlie shook her head slightly, her eyes going wide.

“Months,” Daisy repeated for emphasis, cutting her off. “That’s wa-aay too long, my friend.” She gestured at her breasts. “I’ve got these, but what good are they doing me? Zip, zero, that’s how much.”

“Daise,” Carlie managed, staring at a point high over Daisy’s shoulder.

Foreboding sent a chill down Daisy’s bare back…followed by a deep, familiar chuckle behind her.

She whirled in her seat, her bare legs sticking painfully to the vinyl, and found herself the object of the fascinated gazes of not one, not two, but all three of the men they had just been discussing.

Jake merely gave her a penetrating look, square, clean-shaven face unsmiling. Trace winked at her, his handsome face creasing in a grin.

Dack gazed down at her from his formidable height for a moment, face enigmatic behind his sunglasses.

He’d showered, she noticed inconsequentially. His tanned skin glowed with health and well-being, and his damp hair was combed back from his square face. He wore a faded blue T-shirt and khaki shorts. And when he shifted closer, planting one big, muscular hand on the table before her to lean in, she caught a heady whiff of aftershave and clean male.

“You know,” he said in a low, confidential voice. “My day is turning out kinda hot after all, Daisy. Thanks.”

Daisy didn’t whimper, but she came very close. Holding on to the tattered remains of her dignity by a thread, she sat very still, gazing at his shaded eyes. Heat scalded her face and throat.

Dack straightened. “Ladies,” he said politely.

The three men moved into the booth directly behind her. Trace said something in a low voice, and Dack chuckled again.

Daisy faced forward in her seat, her lunch rolling sickly in her stomach. The most attractive man she’d met in a long time—okay, ever, had just heard her admit that she hadn’t had sex in months and he’d heard her talk about her breasts. Could she just die now and get it over with?

Dack and his friends might be hidden now behind a row of ferns, but they were still there. And why hadn’t she turned her back on him or said something witty? She’d just sat there, for God’s sake, peeking up at him like a naughty puppy.

“Check, please.” Carlie waved her hand energetically at the waiter. Her face was bright pink. Daisy was sure her own matched.

“Restroom.” Sara nudged her. “C’mon, Daise.”

“I’ll pay at the register so you don’t have to come back this way,” Carlie breathed. “You can owe me.”

Daisy managed to nod before scooting from the booth and stalking away to the back of the restaurant.

She owed that big muscle-bound pirate too. And somehow she was going to make him pay.

“Oh, man, you are gonna pay for that.” Trace craned his neck to peer through the ferns as the three women hurried away like they were escaping from a fire.

Dack managed a last glimpse of Daisy Charles around the foliage before sitting back in the booth. Man, she had the sweetest ass he’d seen in…hell, maybe forever. Nice and round and full. His hands curled on his thighs as he imagined gripping that ass and using it to pull her in tighter while he fucked her into next Tuesday.

“Pay for what?” He grinned. “This is a public place, and she was running her mouth.”

“Like that will matter.” Jake’s deep voice was dry. “She’s a woman, you’re a guy, which means you’re wrong.”

Dack shook his head, mystified. “I can’t believe a chick that hot can’t get a guy to do her whenever she wants.”

Her face was real pretty too. He actually liked her super-short hair. The cut emphasized her high cheekbones and big, green eyes. They reminded him of someone—no, something. His mother had a Siamese cat with tilted pale green eyes like that.

He hated that damn cat, but he’d sure like to make Daisy purr.

“Maybe she’s not into guys,” Trace jibed.

“Oh yeah, she is.” Dack’s grin widened as he recalled the way she’d looked at him at the gym only a few hours ago. Those green eyes had been full of feminine admiration.

“Maybe you should invite her to the club,” Jake said.

“Hi, guys, can I get you anything to drink?”

Dack blinked. Damn, their waiter had practically materialized beside their table. He reminded Dack of the genie in a Disney movie, popping up out of nowhere with a big shit-eating grin.

“Lemme think a minute.” Dack was still reeling from Jake’s suggestion.

The waiter stood relaxed, holding his order tablet. “New club opening in the area?” he asked chattily.

Jake scowled. “Why do you ask?”

The waiter shrugged amiably. “No reason. The ladies who just left were talking about trying to get invitations to a club.”

The three men looked at each other. A funny feeling flickered down Dack’s spine, like soft fingers.

“Nope, no new clubs.” Dack slapped his menu in the waiter’s hand. “I’ll have an iced tea and a Lifter Special cheeseburger. Salad with ranch.”

Jake and Trace ordered, and the waiter slipped away.

“The ladies were talking about trying to get invited to a club,” Trace repeated. He ran a hand through his perfectly cut blond hair, his eyes twinkling. “What do you think the odds are?”

“Could be Club 3,” Jake allowed. “Wonder how they’d have heard about it?”

Dack was sure he knew. “Vicki came over to me this morning and asked me if we could have another theme night soon at the club. I said sure, and she gave me a big hug. I’ll bet you anything she was running her mouth in the Big Iron locker room.”

Jake nodded. “She was with her friend Bambi.”

“Bambi?” Trace stared at him. “Seriously?”

Jake raised his brows. “I guess it’s her real name. It’s what she put on her gym registration.”

Dack thumped the table with his fingertips. “Can we focus here? We may have a problem.”

“You don’t have a problem,” Jake said, his eyes cutting back to Dack, amusement gleaming in their icy blue depths. “You’re so hot for that little blonde you can hardly keep it in your pants, Hummer. Invite her to Club 3. If she doesn’t like it, she doesn’t like it. At least you’ll know.”

“He said they were all talking about getting invitations,” Trace said. “I wouldn’t mind playing with that little redhead.”

“Guess that leaves you with the tall blonde, Carlie,” Dack told Jake. “Lucky for you she’s an armful. You’d squash a smaller gal.”

“I didn’t hear Vicki complaining last weekend,” Trace argued. “Wait—she
was
complaining, but that was because you were using a—”

“Keep it down,” Jake rumbled, his eyes narrowed in warning. “There are little kids here.”

“And a nosy waiter,” Dack agreed.

“Yeah, sorry,” Trace muttered as a pair of elderly women walked slowly past, bound for the empty booth the three beauties had vacated. “Anyway, I agree with Jake. Invite her. See what happens.”

“Thanks, fellas,” Dack said. “I feel all warm and fuzzy inside at your concern. In case you haven’t noticed, I get plenty of offers at the club.”

Jake looked at him. “We all do. That’s why we opened the place. But we’re not in this just for ourselves, Hummer.”

“Yeah,” Trace shoved Dack’s shoulder with the heel of his hand. For a guy in fancy golf clothes, he packed a mean punch. “We have a duty to the ladies, Hum, to make sure their needs are being taken care of.”

“The kinky needs anyway,” Dack said under his breath, and Jake winked solemnly. “All right. But if she slaps my face, I’m coming after you two.”

Jake bared his teeth. “You can try.”

“Jake first,” Trace reminded Dack. “It was his idea.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dack assured him.

“What are you worried about?” Jake asked Trace. “He could never catch you.”

Trace, who was lean without any of their bulk, gave him a dark look. “Yeah, you’d probably hold me down for him to beat on.”

“Nah, I don’t second.”

Dack chuckled, and his friends joined in. As the club owners and acknowledged senior doms, none of them seconded or assisted with a scene. That was for baby doms, those new to the lifestyle. They’d shared women occasionally, but it was more to do a scene and to please the woman than anything else.

In Dack’s case, it filled another need, one he was very curious to see if Daisy would share. He loved to be watched, loved to have an audience when he pleased a woman and allowed one to please him. He wanted Daisy any way he could get her, but more than that, he wanted others to watch him dominate her, watch her submit to him and find her sexual pleasure when and how he allowed her.

The waiter set a platter before him with a sizzling cheeseburger and a mound of crisp green salad topped with creamy dressing. Dack’s more immediate hunger took precedence. Man, he was starving. He picked up the burger and took a big bite, chewing with relish. Zellaby’s had great burgers, and the Weight-lifter Specials were big enough to fill him up after a workout.

The restaurant had started making the new, larger size of burger and a few other meals after the gym opened. He and the guys showed their appreciation by giving away discount coupons to Zellaby’s in their new-member packets, and pretty much anytime the restaurant asked.

Jake had the special with fries, while Trace had a chicken sandwich and a mound of pasta salad. They all ate hungrily, conversation halted for the time being.

Dack finished up the last of his lunch with a sigh of repletion and wiped his mouth carefully. Didn’t want to walk out of the restaurant with food in his mustache or beard.

He picked up his iced tea, which had been refilled. “Got an idea to run by you guys. I don’t like the quality of that spank—uh, that bench we got from that outfit in California. I’ve been thinking about building one myself.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jake said.

Trace nodded, swallowing. “Hell, you could probably sell them on eBay.”

Dack snorted. “Like I have time for another business.”

“Give you something to do in winter, when the building trade slows down. Better come up with a name. Gotta brand yourself, y’know.”

“Already have a name. Bench Maid.”

“Bench Made? What’s so great about that?”

Dack spelled it for him. Trace snorted, nearly inhaling his pasta salad.

“Maybe you could get one of the subbies to pose on one,” Jake suggested, a gleam in his eye. “That’d sell ’em.”

Dack pictured Daisy laid out on one of his benches, pouting at the camera, her gorgeous ass reddened from a spanking. He shifted in his seat. Thank God he was wearing a loose T-shirt today. He had his second hard-on in an hour.
Down boy
. He didn’t even know if she was really interested in any kink, and if she was, whether it would mesh with his.

“Seriously, drape a pretty woman on there, dressed in lingerie,” Trace agreed. “Keep it legal but interesting.”

“Yeah, Daisy would look good in lingerie,” Jake put in.

“Oh, yeah.” Trace nodded.

Dack glared at his friends. They were like brothers, but sometimes they just didn’t know when to quit pushing. “I’ll invite her to Club 3, but not to pose for pictures that would be plastered all over the freakin’ Internet.”

“Tiffany would do it for you,” Jake put in.

Dack leveled a particularly lethal glare at him. “That woman is not doing anything for me, ever again. And if you guys take my advice, you won’t go near her either.”

Trace laughed. “She ever quit calling you?”

“I finally had to have Mason talk to her with me,” Dack said with a groan. “He pointed out that there are laws against stalking. And don’t laugh, you a-holes. Maybe it wasn’t to that point, but it was starting to feel like it.”

“You’re just such a stud,” Jake said with a straight face. “I’ve thought about asking you to top me.”

Trace laughed so hard people turned to look.

“I’ll shove somethin’ up your ass, all right,” Dack muttered. “But it won’t be fun for you.”

Jake merely grinned. “So, back to Daisy,” he prodded.

“I’m not starting anything,” Dack said. “Until we have the ‘leave it at the Club’ talk. ’Cause I won’t get involved with any woman who expects me at her beck and call twenty-four seven.”