* * *
It had been ages since Decklan had done aftercare. Yet he sat on a couch in a corner of the club, an out-of-it Amanda wrapped in a blanket, curled in his lap. His cock throbbed with unslaked need, and he welcomed the feeling. It reminded him that there were times when it was worth the sacrifice to hold out.
She’d
reminded him.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Max chose a seat beside him and eyed the feminine bundle in his arms, a satisfied smile on his face. “You gave in and you liked it.”
“She needed it,” Decklan muttered, not wanting to disturb her until she came around on her own. Damn woman thought she was too curvy? Too big? She’d deserved to have that ass slapped. Next time he wanted to bite. To mark her and gain the satisfaction of seeing his imprint on her skin.
He shifted uncomfortably, knowing he couldn’t allow himself to get that involved with her. To do so meant some kind of relationship, which in turn involved allowing himself to get close and potentially care. Or even love. Which meant to risk loss. And loss was something Decklan didn’t deal well with. He’d lost his parents at nineteen, and he never wanted to feel that kind of pain and out-of-control panic again.
He shook his head to rid himself of the thought before he traveled to that dark place, but the memory didn’t negate the fact that he wanted more with this particular woman. More time to figure out why she got to him and more time than he’d had so far.
The bundle in his arms suddenly stirred. He shot Max a pointed look, and the other man rose to his feet. “I’m going. We can pick this up another time.”
Or not, Decklan thought irritably. Max liked to psychoanalyze. Decklan didn’t.
“What happened?” She glanced around, her big eyes blinking as she came to—and remembered. “Oh. Wow. I never go under like that.”
He grinned, unable to help the ridiculous feeling of pride that he’d been able to take her there. “You did. Here, take a drink.” He handed her a bottle of water that had been left for her. He unscrewed the cap and held the bottle for her to sip.
She drank some. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He paused, then decided to push her a little. A woman who looked like her didn’t need to suffer from self-esteem issues. “You need to look in a different mirror,” he said, tightening his arms so she couldn’t bolt.
And she tried to. He held on. “We don’t know each other, and I’m not going to push you to talk if you don’t want to. Just know I meant what I said.”
“Then you’re also saying you’re shy? That’s why it took six months and another guy being an ass in order for you to make a move?”
Shit. So there really was more to her disbelief and calling him a liar earlier. “Are you questioning me again? Because I’m more than happy to add another ten.”
She bit down on that full bottom lip. “I’m just being honest. I thought that was part of what went on here.” Once again, she tried to push away.
“You tempted me too much,” he said, admitting the truth. It was that or giving her up for the night—and that wasn’t happening.
As she accepted his answer, the tension eased, and she curled back into him. He released a long breath, unwilling to question it too hard.
He brushed his hand down her long hair, breathing in the mixture of her scent, peaches and arousal. Desire, thick and heavy, kicked him in the groin. She pulled at emotions inside him he’d locked down years ago.
Time to lay out the parameters. “I don’t do relationships.”
“Me neither.”
A waste, he immediately thought. This woman deserved to have a man take care of her.
He
wanted to take care of her.
He immediately discarded the dangerous desire. “Well then, I think we have something in common, and we can go on with our night. Is that what you want?” he asked.
She slowly nodded. “I want that very much, Decklan. I want you.”
A
manda stepped into the ladies’ room to make a phone call, not wanting Decklan to overhear. “You’re sure?” she asked, talking into her cell phone.
“They don’t call me a computer genius for no reason. I dug deep. Decklan’s a decent enough guy. Not a serial killer, no arrests in his past. Nothing hidden either. I’d have found it.”
And he would have. Brad Ritter, her boss and very best friend, could hack with the best. She trusted his findings.
“Okay then. I’m not coming back tonight.”
“You have the jet fueled for when you’re ready. You spend way too much of your life catering to my needs. I’m glad you’re taking time for you.”
She thought of Decklan’s big hands caressing her long-deprived body and sighed happily. “Me too. But don’t worry. It’s still one night only. It’ll just last a little longer, that’s all. I’ll keep it impersonal and leave in the morning.”
“You know I appreciate that you let my father believe we’re together.”
Amanda glanced at the painted ceiling. Even the bathrooms in this club were first class. She sighed. “It’s fine. It’s a win-win for us both. I’m happy with my life the way it is, and you and Keith can stay under the radar.” Or in the closet, as the case might be.
As right wing tea party Senator Stephan Ritter’s son, Brad felt he could never come out and admit his sexual orientation without destroying his father’s career. And though Amanda had thankfully put her bulimic past behind her, she wasn’t all that trusting of men and relationships. It was simpler to get what she needed sexually at this exclusive club. Brad, her tech geek billionaire best friend, paid for her membership. As she’d said, win-win.
“Well, when you get home tomorrow, I want to hear all about the guy who got you to extend your
couple of hours and only at the club
rule.
No, he would not. What happened in New York would stay in New York. Including how very attracted she was to Decklan and how much she wished she had the normal ability to trust and indulge in relationships. Not that it mattered. Decklan didn’t do relationships either.
“I love you for caring. Now I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Love you too. Take care and have fun.”
She shut her phone and reentered the club to find Decklan, arms folded across his chest, waiting right outside the hallway. “I thought maybe you found a window through which to escape.”
“Not a chance.” Now that she was in, she was going to enjoy. “I just needed to freshen up and call a friend. Otherwise the cavalry might arrive if I didn’t get home on time.”
“Good to know someone has your back.”
She smiled. “Never doubt it.” If she needed anything, Brad would drop everything. They’d been best friends since bonding in college, and nothing could change that. Now she was his personal assistant, allowing him to focus on code while she kept the rest of his life running smoothly.
Decklan placed a hand against the small of her back, a possessive gesture that had her trembling.
“My place or yours?” he asked.
“I’m in from out of town.” Brad had two apartments, leased and hidden under fake names, where they stayed when in town for business. One for him, the other for her. They were far from the ultra-wealthy area where people would expect Senator Ritter’s son to stay and kept both him and Keith protected. She didn’t want to take Decklan there and raise questions.
He blinked at the revelation. “Actually, that makes sense. It explains why you’re not here more often.”
It was her turn to be surprised. “You really did pay attention?”
“Are we back to whether or not I tell the truth?” he asked in a warning tone.
Her ass still ached from his first punishment, and she wanted to move on to the next part of the night. “No, we’re good.”
“So my place is okay?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I’m just outside of Manhattan. Great Neck,” he said.
“I’m okay with that.” She could always call a cab if she needed to escape.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I suppose.” She’d eaten dinner, but it was getting late, and she could use something to boost her blood sugar. “Are you hungry?”
His eyes darkened. His thumb suddenly pressed against her bottom lip. She sighed, her tongue darting out and licking his salty skin. “Make no mistake, baby. I plan to eat you.”
Her breath left in a whoosh. “Oh.”
He slid his finger back and forth across her lip. Her nipples puckered at the simple touch, and she felt the pull directly in the apex of her sex.
“You sound like a New Yorker,” she said, trying to find a semblance of sanity.
He nodded. “Born and raised. You?”
“Maryland,” she murmured, her gaze never leaving his. Those almost-navy eyes mesmerized her, making her feel like she could drown in their depths.
“And where do you live today?” he asked.
“Washington, D.C.” She pulled herself out of the spell he wove around her, reminding herself she had someone else’s secrets to protect even more than her own.
A one-night stand didn’t need intimate, get-to-know-you time. But she wanted to learn more about him, and that was a dangerous proposition.
“Are you going to talk all night?” she asked playfully, a tactic to move things along. “Or do you have some moves you want to show me?”
He laughed. “You can be fun,” he said, clearly surprised.
She grinned. “I have my moments.” With the seriousness of Mike behind her, her insulting herself and that punishment over, she was ready to play.
John, the monitor, winked at her as Decklan led her out and onto the street. With Brad’s check, the club staff knowing who she was with, and understanding that Decklan had been vetted and Mike an aberration, Amanda felt safe leaving with him.
He kept his hand protectively on her back as he led her to the lot where he’d parked his car and held open the door for her once the attendant brought the black SUV around. The radio played Top 100, and she settled into the comfortable seat.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “I am. Thanks.” Surprisingly, she was fine. No, she wasn’t a woman who normally left a club or bar with a stranger, but Decklan Dare didn’t feel like someone she’d never met. And she really wanted one night with this dominant, sexy man.
The rest of the car ride passed in comfortable silence. He didn’t push for conversation, and she was still feeling tingly and relaxed from actually reaching subspace with Decklan. Soon he turned off the highway, and after driving through side streets with small homes that were close together, he turned into an apartment complex and parked in a spot out front.
The lot was well lit, enabling her to see that the grounds were well maintained and the building fairly new. Nice but not excessive. Yet membership in the club was a fortune. She couldn’t afford it if Brad hadn’t insisted on making it a perk of her job. She wondered how Mr. Decklan Dare could be a cop who lived here yet be able to afford the membership. Though Brad could get her all the information she wanted on Decklan, she’d never go that far. Safety was one thing, digging and being intrusive another. This was a one-night stand, and her curiosity wouldn’t be assuaged any time soon.
Inside the apartment, she found purely masculine décor with a definite flair. A navy, white, and taupe color scheme, comfortable couches, large-screen television.
“Who decorated?” she asked, certain he wasn’t the type to hang ornate mirrors or purchase knickknacks to give the place a homier feel.
“My sister, Lucy.”
She nodded. “She has good taste.”
“It’s what she does. My brother, Gabe, runs the family business, which includes exclusive clubs around the country. Ever hear of Elite?”
She nodded, impressed. “I recently read about the opening on the island Eden.”
“That’s them. Lucy does the décor.”
“A family business yet you’re a cop.” She grinned. “Like to do things your way?”
He laughed. “More like that’s how Gabe likes to do things. My parents died in an accident when I was nineteen. Gabe took over and made sure I went to college and became a cop because that’s all I ever wanted to do. He sacrificed his needs to let me and Lucy have our own.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Decklan didn’t reply. Sympathy always made him uncomfortable. So did the knowledge that he always felt like he owed Gabe. Another reason he felt so out of control after his parents died. He might have achieved his dream of being in law enforcement, but he’d done it at his big brother’s expense. Gabe never complained. But he’d never had a choice in what he wanted to do. Gabe had become the defacto parent. It was one of the reasons Decklan gravitated toward the BDSM scene. Regaining control helped him deal with his darker emotions.
“He sounds like a great guy,” Amanda said.
“He’s an ass.”
Amanda spun to face him, her eyes wide in surprise.
Decklan shrugged. “He is. To everyone but me, Lucy, and his new wife, Isabelle. He had to be to get where he is today. But I respect him even when I want to throttle him.”
“I wish I had siblings.”
“Only child?”
She shrugged. “Unfortunately.”
He was suddenly aware of how intimate the conversation had become. More like two people getting to know one another than the reality—two people who’d come together for sex. He pushed aside the feeling that talking to her was easy and that he wanted to dig deeper into who she was. What had created the insecurities he’d witnessed earlier. The sadness he heard in her tone now.