My Wicked Valentine (Club Wicked 1) (10 page)

If he had a soul, he’d leave her alone, but he just
couldn’t.

Trying to gather his wits, he took his jacket and draped it
over Lucia’s shoulders. “The car has heated seats, so you should warm up pretty
quick.”

She grinned up at him and gave a mock shiver. “Yeah, I don’t
think I want cold metal pressing on my girly bits.”

“Indeed.” His voice came out strangled as he imagined
warming those delectable bits with his mouth. He escorted Lucia from of the
building with Laurel’s laughter trailing after them.

When they reached the doorway, Lucia squeaked and jumped
back. “Shoot, I totally forgot my feet are bare.”

He laughed and scooped her up, loving the warm feel of her
against his chest, enjoying the way her long hair cascaded over his arm, and
how she clung to him.

“What are you doing? Put me down before you drop me.”

He ignored her tirade and used his shoulder to open the
door, making sure she was still covered by the jacket. “Stop squirming, or I
will drop you.”

Her wiggles stopped, and she shivered. “Okay, well, if you
insist, then put a move on it. I’m freezing.”

Then she burrowed into him like a cat, and he wanted to
stroke her until she purred. He chuckled at the mental image of a purring Lucia
sleeping at his feet, and she gave him a grumpy look. “I don’t even want to
know what your perverted mind was thinking.”

She peeked out of his jacket at his car. “Wow. Nice shiny
black spaceship.”

Laughing, he brushed his lips over her hair. “It’s a concept
SUV that isn’t in production in the States yet.”

“My brother would die just to breathe on it.” She shivered.
“I personally don’t care what we drive in as long as it’s warm.”

With a bit of maneuvering, he got the door to the SUV open and
slid her onto the seat. Her pout disappeared as she sighed. “Ooh, it’s warm in
here.”

He shut the door with a grin that faded as he wondered how
he’d ever let her go.

Lucia looked around the now dark interior of the SUV and
mentally whistled. Extremely comfortable cream and tan seats molded against her
body. She’d never ridden in a car that felt like she was sitting in an easy
chair. It was also incredibly silent inside, enough so the only sound she heard
was the very faint strains of music coming from the radio and their breathing.
She’d enjoyed the silence while they’d been on the freeway, using the time to
gather her thoughts, but as they took an exit off the highway, she started to
get restless.

Her gaze went to the dashboard that was classic and
thoroughly modern. There were all kinds of instruments, but she didn’t see one
button or dial. Curious, she leaned forward and studied the car’s stereo.

“What are you doing?” Isaac asked, his deep voice moving
over her body like melted chocolate.

Madre de Dios
, how
did he manage to make everything sensual, even just a simple question? It was
as if he had some type of magic, a spell specially attuned to drive her wild.
She wanted him to keep talking, to make her body hum with pleasure as his voice
vibrated through her blood and straight to her clit. Hell, that man could read
the phone book, and she’d be wet and ready before he finished the first row of
names.

“I’m trying to figure out how to turn up the volume.”

“Here.” He switched his hands on the steering wheel and
enveloped hers in his heat. His skin felt so warm, and she noted the slight
roughness of his fingertips. Using the tip of her finger, he showed her how to
operate the volume on the touch-screen display.

A hard, pounding beat came from the speakers, and she
laughed in delight. Bass shook her body from the inside out; she was glad they
were on the freeway, or this car would have caused noise complaints.

He turned it down to a manageable level and grinned. “What
can I say? I like my Nine Inch Nails.”

She thumped back into the seat and sighed. “I have got to
get me one of these.” She looked over at him to judge his reactions. “So, I
have something to ask you.”

His jaw tensed, but then he blew out a breath. “What’s up?”

“Do the people at the club like to dress up in costumes for
your parties? I mean, with all the outrageous outfits I saw last night and this
galactic slave-girl getup I’m wearing, I’m wondering if the members would enjoy
a party they could dress up for. I have a drawing of what I was thinking of in
my bag, which is back at Laurel’s place.” She sighed and smacked her forehead.
“Honest to goodness. Usually I’m much more organized than this. It’s just that
you make me nervous.”

“I make you nervous?”

She bit her wayward tongue and reluctantly nodded. “Not like
in a bad
oh my God he wants to eat my
liver with fava beans
way. More like…I don’t know…like butterflies in my
stomach or something.”

“Really.” The smug smile that curved his lips made her want
to smack him.

“I think I might be allergic to you.”

He laughed and pulled off the freeway onto a side road.
“I’ll try not to shed or slobber on you.”

“So, back to my original question, what do you think?”

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and glanced at her. “I
think a costume party would be a big hit. But please don’t make it all dark and
dreary. Our last event planner, Lady Morgana, had a thing for vampires, so
every event she did felt like an emo prom. The board at Wicked finally got
tired of it, and when I found out they were looking for someone else to host
the party, I volunteered. All of the board members of Wicked are actively
involved in the day-to-day running of the club. They set the tone for Wicked,
and over the years the club has gone through many incarnations…some good and some
not so good. I love Wicked, not only for the pleasures it offers, but because
of the people. I know you haven’t really interacted with anyone yet, but for
the most part, the people that belong to Wicked are some of the best you’ll
ever meet. I want Wicked to continue to be a place that my friends and I can
meet to not only indulge in our passions, but also to relax and be among
friends.”

He glanced over at her and grinned. “Sorry for the lecture,
but I want you to know why this is so important to me. It’s not just about
getting on the board for the privileges and power that comes with that
position. While I certainly enjoy the benefits, I really want to be on it so I
can prevent the assholes and bitches of the world from turning Wicked into just
another place where people fuck. Am I making any sense? I feel like I’m
babbling.”

“No, no, I totally understand.” She turned to face him as
much as she could in her seat. “You want to keep the magic alive. There is
like…a feeling to Wicked, like when you first step inside you’re parting the
veil of reality and entering an entirely different world.”

He smiled and nodded. “In a way, yeah.”

“Well, I’ll do my absolute best to help you throw the best
damned Valentine’s Day party that club has ever seen.”

“Please tell me you don’t have the urge to make a
Dracula-themed Valentine’s Day.”

“God, no. Besides, that’s too cliché. I want to do something
different, something they will remember.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, you know how Wicked is all secret hush-hush because
BDSM is considered morally questionable by society in general? How it’s kind of
a forbidden type of love? I was thinking we do a play off of that.”

“Sounds like an interesting concept. How are you going to
execute it?”

“I was thinking of a speakeasy Valentine’s Day party. We’ll
transform one of the ballrooms into an illicit bar from the 1920s. Men can be
gangsters, cops, whatever they want from that time period, and for the women
they have the fabulous flappers as inspiration. Instead of highlighting how
liquor was illegal, we’ll do it showcasing BDSM as the forbidden pleasure of
choice. You know, have gaming tables with some kind of BDSM-themed card games
or a bar where you can order a submissive to flog instead of a drink. I’d need
your help in figuring all of that stuff out, but just think of how amazing we
could make this.”

In her mind visions of designs and floral creations mixed
with the number of workers they would need. Which led to her thinking about
where they would find white peonies this time of year. If they preordered now,
could she find some of those roses that were so deep red they almost looked
black? She needed to find out who to talk to in order to get access to Wicked
during the day when no members were around so she could start getting
measurements. She also needed to get together with whoever was in charge of
alcohol and see who they ordered from so she could use the same company, and
then contact the company to find out what kind of liquor and wine they sold the
most of—

“Lucia,” Isaac said in a loud, teasing voice. “Earth to
Lucia, are you there?”

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about how much we have to get
done. So many people to contact, and I need to—“

“Lucia, it is going to be okay. You aren’t doing this alone.
I’m here to help you. Between the two of us, we can get anything done that
needs to be done. Now, deep breath in.” He looked expectantly at her as they
turned down a tree-lined street flanked with enormous homes set back from the
road.

She did as he said and glanced around curiously. On the limo
ride up she hadn’t paid much attention to anything but Isaac. Not that the same
thing wasn’t happening right now, but she wanted to at least know what the
exterior of Wicked looked like.

“Open the glove box. Your mask is in there. Might want to
put it on before we arrive.”

She nodded, then flipped open the glove box and pulled out a
white silk case. “This isn’t my mask. It was in a black case.”

He grinned, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “I had
masks made in a variety of colors for you. Laurel told me which one to bring.”

She glanced at him but couldn’t read anything in his gaze.
It must have cost a fortune to get so many masks so quickly. Did that mean that
he liked her, or that money was not an issue with him so he never thought about
what things cost? She’d like to believe the former, but her practical side
insisted she not let him dazzle her with wealth and blind her to his faults.
Lord knew she’d seen it happen often enough with her friends. But it wasn’t
like she was going to keep any of this stuff. After they were done, she’d
either pay him for the cost of the clothes or return them. Hopefully she could
return them, because she was pretty sure it would take half of what she earned
to reimburse Isaac.

Brushing away those thoughts, she tried to focus on the
moment. Soft silk rubbed against her fingertips as she opened the box to reveal
a golden mask that had a definite feline feel to it. She noticed something
still gleaming in the box and brought out a pair of golden cat ears attached to
a headband that matched her dark hair color.

“Seriously?”

He gave her a warm look, and the faint lines around his
mouth deepened. “Oh yes.”

“I’ll look silly!”

“No, you won’t. Did you know that yesterday the gentleman
who makes my masks had a rush on new orders for cat-type masks? Now, there may
be a bunch of women there tonight in some type of cat getup, but none of them
are like you, my kitten.”

“Ha, more like a killer lioness.” She bared her teeth at him
and snarled. “Grrr.”

“Pathetic.”

“Oh yeah? Let me hear your roar.”

“The only time you’ll get to hear my roar is when I’ve
fucked you into a state of bliss and I spill myself deep inside your tight
body.”

“Oh,” she said in a faint voice and stared at him. “You
think you’re gonna get lucky tonight, don’t you?”

“No.” His features tightened, and his eyelids grew heavy.
“Tonight is all about your pleasure.”

He pulled up a winding driveway before reaching a massive
and elaborately carved wrought-iron gate. It was illuminated by great cut-glass
lanterns on either side and would have looked perfect guarding the entrance to
a castle. She noticed the thick concrete pillars thrusting up and blocking the
drive beyond the gate and modified her imaginings from a delicate fairy castle
to an imposing and impressive fortress.

Even though they hadn’t even entered the property yet, a
delicious shiver went through her. Passing through these gates was like passing
through a portal to another world. A fantasy place where any pleasure that
could be bought was and the only thing limiting the wonders within was the
owner’s imagination. After experiencing the garden in the sky, she didn’t know
what could possibly top it. A flush of embarrassment heated her cheeks at the
silly, romantic turn her thoughts had taken, but never in her life would she
have imagined not only that places like this existed, but that she’d be eagerly
waiting to enter with a handsome and wicked prince.

Isaac pulled up and tapped a code into a gate box. A moment
later a disembodied female voice spoke from the box. “Good evening, Mr.
O’Keefe. You are expected.”

Before them the heavy black iron bars opened, and the
concrete barriers beyond lowered. Isaac drove through, following a driveway lit
with exquisite wrought-iron lanterns. Bare tree branches curved over the drive,
and they probably went another quarter mile before pulling within sight of the
club.

It was all she had imagined and more.

Lights blazed from every window of the four-story mansion,
illuminating the pale stone exterior with their golden glow and revealing
columned porches, balconies, and vast windows.

He went around the main parking area with its covered
entrance, waving at the valet, before pulling up behind the mansion next to what
looked like a steel black door with security cameras pointed at it. Every
breath he took seemed to burn her skin, and when he turned off the car and
picked the cat mask up from the seat, she actually trembled.