Wicked Christmas Eve

"I would definitely recommend reading this story.  It's a really quick read, but it's good and hot, and if your family is driving you nuts this holiday, it might be just enough of an escape to keep you from drinking too much."
4.5 Kinks ~ Kinky Book Reviews

After a disastrous Christmas eve visit with her family, Megan Wilson heads to her old stomping ground for a little liquid escape. Instead she finds the one that got away.

Unaware that Wicked Grounds has changed since she left town, she walks into the bar to find her high school crush, Cyrus Jackson wielding a flogger against the naked backside of a woman tied to a whipping post.

More than ready for an adventure, Megan sets out to prove to Cy she is woman enough to handle even his darkest desires. At least for one night...

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Wicked Christmas Eve

Copyright© 2011
Eliza Gayle

ISBN:
978-1-60088-728-4

Cover Artist:
Sable Grey

Editor:
Jana Hanson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

Cobblestone Press, LLC

www.cobblestone-press.com

Why in the hell had she thought coming back to this town would be a good idea? From the moment her car had passed the city limits sign, her world had gone to hell, starting with the speeding ticket she’d gotten from a hot cop who was not amused.

She’d spent the next eight hours with her extended family over Christmas Eve dinner until she’d been unable to take another second of the constant bickering and the not so subtle digs about the current shambles of her life. Between her mother firing one question after another and her sister’s snide remarks, Megan had ground her teeth to the point of pain. Another day of this bullshit, and she’d have to find a dentist. Or an exorcist.

A slight smile curved her lips. The image of a priest coming to the front door with his Bible and rosary nearly made her laugh out loud.

Megan glanced through the windshield at the near empty parking lot before turning her gaze to the front of her favorite hangout. The Open sign blinked neon red. The last time she’d walked through those doors had been her twenty-first birthday, almost ten years to the day.

Unfortunately, her plans to set the world on fire had fallen flat. She’d gotten her degree in political science only to be turned down by one law school after another. Six months later, she’d settled into a legal secretarial position and a routine that made the next several years go by in a blur. Then out of the blue, she’d been laid off. With only a few days until Christmas, Megan had thought a change of scenery was in order and had headed home to Florida. So maybe it was
her
head that needed examined after all.

Ready for a drink, she opened her car door and stepped out. It didn’t surprise her to find so few cars in the parking lot. Most people weren’t trying to escape on Christmas Eve.

Her shoes thudded quietly on the soft pavement until she reached the door. She did her best to ignore the strand of floss—otherwise known as a thong—riding between her ass checks. A heavy sigh formed in her chest. Why hadn’t she changed before she ran out? Because another second in that house would have killed her, that’s why.

Megan glanced around the parking lot again to make sure she was completely alone before she reached under her skirt and grabbed the edge of her panties. She yanked them down her legs and stepped out of them. It wasn’t as if anyone here would notice whether she wore anything under her boring gray skirt. She shoved the offending scrap to the bottom of her purse and straightened her clothes one final time. Much better.

One more minute and she’d be happily seated at the bar. Thirty minutes after that, she’d be halfway to smashed if she had any say about it. She’d worry about getting home later—much later.

She pushed the door open. Instead of the coat rack and stand filled with brochures and advertisements she’d expected, a large man sitting on a stool in the corner looked up from the book he was reading.

“Evening,” he said with barely a nod.

Taken aback by a bouncer, she hurried past him. The main room was dark, and she stopped to give her eyes a few seconds to adjust. On autopilot, she turned to the right and headed in the direction of the bar. There were only a few tables occupied, but a couple of people eyed her as she walked by. Thankfully there were no faces she recognized, so she didn’t hesitate. She grabbed a stool at the bar and dropped her purse in her lap.

“Can I get a tequila shot straight up?” she asked the bartender.

His eyebrows raised, which she promptly ignored. It was her Christmas Eve, and she’d damn well do as she pleased, even if that meant getting sloshed alone in a bar.

“On second thought, make that two.”

The man behind the bar grabbed two small glasses and filled them.

“We have a two drink maximum if you’re planning to play tonight.”

Her head shot up, and she met his gaze. “Play?” He picked up her glasses from the bar and used them to indicate behind her before he sat them in front of her. Megan scooped up one of her drinks and slowly turned the stool to investigate. The barroom was quite large with dark wood tables filling the space, but in the back corner, there were double doors propped open that led to a separate area. A private room rented out for parties if she remembered correctly. Although what her gaze rested on certainly lacked in privacy.

Megan’s eyes widened.

Just beyond the opening she spied a naked woman standing against a tall post with her arms tied over her head. Megan’s booted foot slipped from the ledge of the stool and landed on the floor with a thud. The tall blonde woman had a strikingly thin figure, willowy like a model with porcelain perfect skin except for the red streaks covering her ass.

While Megan struggled for a consistent thought on what she was witnessing, an imposing male figure blocked her view of the mystery woman with the lovely backside. Broad shoulders, a lean torso, and an awesomely tight ass encased in black pants filled the doorway. Curious to see more, Megan shifted on the seat to angle her body for the best view. The rear view alone caused a slight tingle in all her girly parts. Now she wanted him to turn around so she could see the face of her newly imagined sex god.

Instead her gaze was drawn to his hips where his hand held a flogger in a tight grip. A flash of heat tore through her,. Her sex moistened, and her nipples puckered at the thought of him raising his arm and using the flogger on the woman helpless in front of him.

Holy fuck.

Suddenly she felt like Alice in the rabbit hole. She was from a small, southern town. It wasn’t exactly a hotbed of sexual proclivities, but obviously that had changed. The bartender behind her cleared his throat, pulling her attention to the fact she was staring at something obviously not her business. She swiveled in her seat and brought the shot of alcohol to her lips. In one gulp, she downed the fiery liquid. She welcomed the burn in the hopes it would distract her from the wild thoughts now racing through her mind.

A sex club.

She’d never planned for a night like this but now… Well, her body grew hotter the more she thought about what might be going on in that room. What would it be like to let go of her inhibitions and spend a few hours just savoring the pleasures of sex with no strings attached?

Between her legs, her sex swelled, and moisture trickled to the tops of her thighs. Maybe removing her thong hadn’t been a great idea after all. A faint cracking sound interrupted her train of thought. Was that a whip? Her hands closed into fists. Her clothes grew too tight. Megan reached for her second glass of tequila and dragged it closer.

“Hey, Brian. Can I get a bottle of water?”

The dark, rough voice filtered through her head. Megan’s gaze followed the sound and looked up into the tanned strong face—

“Cyrus Jackson?” She blurted the name from her lips before she could stop them.
Oh God.

His gaze jerked to hers, giving her a hard, assessing look before he scanned her from head to toe. Heat crawled up her skin the longer he stared. Embarrassed at her outburst, she broke eye contact and stared down at her glass.

“Do I know you?”

He didn’t recognize her.

Just like old times. Back in high school it had seemed most days he didn’t have a clue who she was. The fact she’d fallen madly in crush the first day she’d laid eyes on him hadn’t helped. It had taken an enormous amount of willpower not to follow him around like a lovesick puppy.

Not that time and difference seemed to change things much. He looked as delicious as ever, and thoughts of spending a wild night with him ran rampant through her mind.

“Sort of. I mean, not really,” she answered, despite the knot forming in her throat.

He pushed the chair out next to her and took a seat. “Well, now I’m intrigued. How do I sort of not really know you? You don’t look like someone I would have forgotten.”

Megan shifted her weight uncomfortably. Dark pants and a dark shirt clung to him like a second skin, emphasizing the muscles of his arms. Other than the sign of faint laugh lines around his gorgeous green eyes, he looked exactly as she remembered.

Except now his presence unnerved her in a brand-new way. She’d never once imagined him into the BDSM scene. Talk about surreal.

“We went to high school together,” she mumbled.

“Hmm…” His eyes narrowed, and she fought not to squirm while he searched for something to remember her by. If her ego hadn’t already taken a beating, she might have been offended. As it was, she didn’t care. A night of anonymity sounded like the perfect escape.

Cyrus leaned forward and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Megan held her breath. The electric shock of his touch zinged straight to her core. He didn’t stop there. His finger traced a path from her ear to her lips, leaving her quaking on the insides.

“We couldn’t have known each other that well, beautiful. You don’t strike me as the easy-to-forget kind.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper, sending a whisper of heat straight to her bare sex.

Had it been so long since she’d been laid that something so simple turned her on? Obviously so. Fuck it. What did it matter? She’d had a crush on him in high school, so he wasn’t exactly a stranger. One night of something good sounded like a damn fine idea.

It wasn’t just the man that pulled at her, though. The faint report of the whip cracking in the background continued to beat at her senses. The sound drove her with a need to squirm and press her thighs together. Instead of responding to his comment, she dipped her head. Whatever kinky sex games they played, she wanted in.

He tucked his fingers under her chin and lifted her head. “Look at me,” he demanded.

Megan shivered. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his and held her breath. She wanted him to see what she didn’t quite have the courage to voice.

An easy smile spread across his face. “You want to play, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“You think you can handle what’s going on back there?”

She swallowed thickly. “I can. Whatever you want.”

His nostrils flared, and his eyes widened. “Be careful what you wish for around here. People tend to take those kind of statements literally.” His hand trailed down her neck and sides before it rested on her thigh. Lust scorched through her, leaving her wetter than before.

“I am serious.”

He studied her for what seemed an eternity before he finally spoke. “Do you have any experience with a place like this? This isn’t exactly beginner’s night.”

“A little, but I’m a quick learner with an open mind.” Her voice shook. She didn’t want to get into the explanation of that one wild year in college.

Immediately the energy between them changed. His eyes narrowed, and his mouth pursed. “Submissives aren’t allowed to wear clothes in there. At least not tonight.”

Megan bit at her lip. Was he saying yes? “I understand.”

A deep chuckle sounded from his chest. “Hmm. We’ll see about that.” He took the empty glass out of her hand and placed it on the bar. Without taking his gaze from hers he spoke to the bartender. “How many of these has she had?”

“Within limits.”

“Good.” He bent down, nuzzled her face to the side and bit her lower lip. “Stand up and take off your skirt.”

The unexpected demand threw Megan for a loop. For a second, her common sense kicked in, urging her to run. Not that she listened. Instead, she slid from her stool and straightened. She unfastened the waistband and lowered the zipper. With little fanfare, she slid the skirt down her legs and stepped out. Cool air brushed across her naked backside and between the V of her thighs. Of all the nights she’d decided to take off her thong.

“Very pretty. And wet, I’ll bet.”

She nodded briefly, a bit mortified by her easy reactions. To her surprise, the bartender leaned forward and rested his head on his hands—obviously watching the show.

“Take off the rest.”

Both men watched her as she removed her red sweater and bra. She trembled in front of them, which had little to do with the temperature in the room and everything to do with what she’d just done. She bent to remove her boots.

A hard hand curved around her neck and pulled her upright. “Leave the boots.”

The rough voice and pressure of his touch sent a shiver down her spine. A wisp of fear mixed with a flash of arousal that took her breath away. He stepped closer and smoothed his hand down her side. Her muscles shook as he made his way around her hip to the aching folds between her legs. Cyrus slipped his finger into her slick heat, pushing his way to her entrance, making her gasp.

From the corner of her eyes, she caught the enrapt expression on the bartender’s face before Cyrus pushed two fingers inside.

“Eyes on me,” Cyrus demanded.

Her gaze jerked to his. The color of his eyes had darkened to a deep, mesmerizing green. The intensity of his stare both frightened and excited her while his fingers stroked in and out of her sex until she was panting. Her stomach muscles tightened as an orgasm began to build. Any second now her body would explode in front of anyone who desired to watch and she no longer cared.

He swiped his thumb across her sensitive clit, leaving her gasping for release. Before she could reach the pinnacle, he withdrew his fingers and brought them to her mouth.