Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5) (22 page)

BOOK: Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5)
12.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“There is that. You were one of my most popular girls, and could be again,
bonita
.”

She glared at him, waiting for him to twist his knife. If he wanted something, he went to extremes, often taking painful measures—both physical and emotional—to get it.

“Fine, if you don’t want to be friendly, I’ll get down to business. Bottom line, you’re going to help me, Tamara.”

The sound of her real name, sent chills up her spine. “No, I told you, I won’t ever—”

“Yes, yes, so you’ve said,” he interrupted impatiently while reaching into his pocket. She stiffened, her eyes glued to his hand, afraid he had a gun, or some type of weapon. He pulled out an envelope instead. “You will do exactly what I say or your pretty boy husband gets these by special delivery.”

Feeling nauseous, she stared at the plain white letter sized envelope, afraid to take it, as if it were contaminated or venomous, like the snake that was its bearer.

“Were you always this difficult?” he sighed with exasperation.

“You didn’t allow me to be. It was easier to slap me around.”

“Tsk tsk, beautiful and bitter, but we had some good times,
si
?”

“Not
si
. You gave me three years of hell.”

He glared at her, full of irritation as he shoved the envelope at her. When she refused to take it, he muttered in Spanish and tore it open. Mara knew quite a bit and could converse reasonably well, but from his rapid, low grumbling, all she could make out was
puta obstinada
, as he called her a stubborn bitch. She stepped back, but couldn’t go far with the car behind her.

As he withdrew a stack of photos, she closed her eyes, a heaviness, crushing like leaden weights, pressed down on her chest. In the back of her mind she always knew this day would come, shattering the beautiful life she had with Sean. She’d overreached, daring to think she could rise above the filth of the gutter she’d come from, to infiltrate the life of a good, kind, generous man.

“Open your eyes and see what I have for Sean, Tamara.” She turned her head, but Victor wouldn’t let her hide from her past. His fingers dug painfully into her skin as he gripped her chin and forced her to see the proof of her degradation. Dizziness swept through her as acid more bitter than gall rose in the back of her throat. In the low light of the garage, she saw herself, no more than sixteen going down on a man in a finely made suit in the back of a limousine. The hem of her dress was around her waist and the man behind her had his hand buried between her legs. This was tame compared to some of the things she’d done.

Sean would go ape shit. He’d be revolted, sickened and forever see her differently. If he was repulsed by her, or worse, if he grew to hate her for the despicable acts she committed, she couldn’t bear it. And she couldn’t blame him; she hated herself for them too.

“There’s video, available to VIPs only, since you were underage, but I’ll happily spare a copy for your old man,
querida
.”

Legs turned to jelly, she slumped. He let her, stepping back as she crumpled to the concrete floor. Clutching her middle, she curled forward, letting out a mournful cry like a wounded animal. “Why,” she demanded, her voice brittle and distorted by pain, “after all this time? I’m too old for your clientele.”

“I’ve got a new business line here in Texas. Wealthy ranchers and oil barons apparently like their kink. With your bondage experience, you’re perfect for my new customers.”

She stared up at him in horror. “What?”

“I know about you and your Master.”

“But how?”

“You’re mine, Mara. You’re right that you no longer met my client’s needs in Washington, so I let you go. But I kept tabs on you
.
Remember the night in the parking garage?”

“That was you,” she exclaimed on a shaky exhale.

“One of my men.
si
. Despite changing your name, getting your fancy nursing degree, marrying GI Joe and moving here, I always had my eye on you.”

“…biding your time,” she whispered in alarm.

“Exactly. You’ll always be mine.” He bent and grasped her arms. Ignoring her violent recoil at his touch, he hauled her to her feet. “Come, we’ll go for a ride and I’ll explain how you can help your old friend Victor.” Punching the button on the wall nearby, he opened the garage door and dragged her down the drive to where he’d parked on the street. Not an easy task with her body gone limp.

At his vehicle, he opened the door. When she didn’t climb in, he cursed and practically threw her in. Vaguely, her numb mind registered the plush leather seats and Cadillac logo. The kink business must be paying him well, and now he wanted to use her to line his pockets further.

He climbed behind the wheel, turning to her before he started the engine. “Buckle up for safety. Got to protect my precious cargo. You, my little dominatrix, are going to make me a mint.”

She didn’t move or speak, ignoring his shrug of indifference as he pulled away from the curb. Mara turned her head and watched sadly as the lights of his caddy reflected on her home, the one she and Sean had created. Despondent, she strained to see the outline as it faded in the distance. It had been her sanctuary, but he’d ruined that too. She would never feel safe there again.

Her thoughts turned to Sean, her heart aching as she recalled the dreams she had foolishly thought possible: a wonderful man, love, marriage, two kids, a yellow lab in the backyard and a white picket fence. She’d been on her way to achieving them all. A rare tear trickled down her cheek as he turned the SUV onto the main thoroughfare. Like her dreams, she left her home behind in the darkness.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

“You work too much, Mara.”

She looked up from her packing, to meet his narrowed eyes. “I’ve scaled back to three days a week as you asked.”

“You don’t need to work at all. After only a few months, Decadence has a waiting list and Rossi is hiring extra men to keep up with the caseload. We don’t need the money.”

“I like working.” She crossed the room to retrieve her penlight and keys from the dresser, feeling his gaze follow her around the room.

He wasn’t happy. If the words didn’t tell her, his rigid stance, crossed arms and dark expression did as he leaned in the bedroom doorway. She gave him a sidelong glance as she shoved more items in her bag. Done, she looked around to see what she might have forgotten and spied her hairbrush on her vanity.

Walking to it, she continued, “I’m already down to part-time. I don’t want to give up nursing all together. Besides, what am I supposed to do while you’re running around the world fighting bad guys, take up knitting?”

“Don’t be flippant.” His tone said his patience was waning. As he came up behind her, he buried his face in her neck while she pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, the way she always wore it at work. “At least you found something on day shift so we can spend more time together.”

Although she was almost done and ready to twist on the hair band, he took the brush from her and began pulling it through, gliding his hand down the length with his free hand as he did so. She stilled, enjoying his gentle touch. He was a very tactile man and enjoyed doing these kinds of personal things for her.

“You know I loved the blonde,” he murmured as his fingers played through the curls at the ends, “but your natural brown with the glimmers of gold is stunning.”

She turned in his arms, her hands coming up to sift through his own dark hair. “It’s not fair. I have to pay $120 at the salon for highlights, while your red ones are natural.”

“My hair is not red. Gingers are not badass or cool.”

“That’s not true.”

“Name one.”

Wow. She wasn’t expecting a quiz. Sean was not vain in any sense of the word, but oddly, in this he was sensitive. She scrambled for a good example. “Uh… James Cagney. He always played a tough guy or a gangster.”

“Name one who hasn’t been dead for thirty years.”

“Chuck Norris?” She pulled him out of the air. He was kind of a strawberry blond, right?

“Not a redhead. Try again.” He paused, a dark brow arched in challenge. After a moment, he grunted. “Opie and Howdy Doody most often come to mind, neither of which were badasses. Case closed.”

“Okay, Lucky. Your hair is beautiful badass brown.” Silently, she considered it more on the dark auburn side than simply brown, a deep and lustrous reddish-brown that she liked a lot. Smiling to herself, she said nothing more as her eyes swept over the fiery strands.

“Minx, I know that look. You’re humoring me and had better stop before I send you off to work with a hot bottom.”

“Promise?”

“Brave words while I have a hairbrush in my hands, nightingale.” His hands found her waist and spun her around. Before she could protest, his fingers curved into the waistband of her scrubs. Hooking her panties as he went, they were yanked smartly down to rest right above her knees. Each bare cheek received a stinging swat before the brush clattered on the dresser.

“It wasn’t a dare, I was only teasing.”

His hand at her bare hip slid around front and cupped her pussy, fingers delving inside. She knew he’d find her wet, a near constant state around her big, sexy dominant man. As his other hand moved under her shirt and cupped a breast, she leaned back against his chest, thrusting her hips forward and arching into his deft fingers. “Babe, I want to, but I’m already running behind.”

His lips opened wide on her neck as he suckled, latching onto her tender skin with his teeth. “I don’t give a fuck,” he growled. “Spread for me.”

She did without question easily forgetting her obligation as two fingers speared into her wet channel and began gliding in and out.

“I’ll send you off with a burning behind and something else to remind you who you belong to. It will serve as an excellent reminder while you’re taking care of all those horny, pussy starved soldiers who keep gawking at you in your tight scrubs, the whole time imagining this incredible ass while they jerk off under the covers.”

She gasped; he wasn’t usually so crude. “They do not. Besides, I work in an outpatient clinic. No one is jerking off.”

He withdrew his fingers and gave her pussy a smart slap with his wet fingers, stimulating her clit further. She gushed in response.

“So maybe they wait until they get to their car, or home to their apartment, or they do it when they’re lying in their lonely bed at night, but they do. I know because I was one of them once.” He stripped her pants and panties down to her ankles. Standing close, she felt him open his fly. As his hardness sprang forth, the head grazed her thigh, leaving a trail of wetness. Before she could think, or breathe in and out for one cycle, he spread her cheeks with his thumbs and was inside her. Mara’s hands pressed against the vanity top as his momentum shifted her forward. Her rapid breath steamed up the mirror a mere inch from her lips as with one hand on her shoulder to keep her from slamming into the glass, he fucked her.

As was often the case with a spontaneous quickie, they came together in an explosive frenzy of passion. Most times Sean initiated it. On occasion, Mara would unzip him and start the play. A few times, she’d started something, taking him unaware in a rather inappropriate place, earning a correction afterwards. It was half-hearted on his part because he may have been surprised by her actions, but was never disappointed in the outcome. Always it was hot, volatile and mutually satisfying.

Tonight, she was easily swept away, with only a token protest, because she needed him. Now, more than ever with the night she had ahead of her. That fleeting thought, interrupted the passion momentarily and she tried to push it aside. Ever perceptive, Sean noticed immediately and slowed his harried pumping.

“Mara? What’s wrong?”

“The counter is hurting my hip.” It wasn’t a lie. The sharp edge was digging into her skin. Ordinarily she would have let it pass, the nominal discomfort outshone by the incomparable pleasure of having him inside her. Not tonight, however.

He pulled her up immediately and started back at it. “Better?” he asked against her ear as his teeth nipped gently. His hand swept down to her pussy, spreading her lips and manipulating her clit expertly to compensate for the pain and interruption in rhythm.

“Yes, so much better,” she sighed, adding, “I love you, Sean.” Watching one another in the mirror, he continued to drive up into her. She knew he saw the mist of tears before she lowered her lashes.

“I love you too, baby.” Observing her closely, he increased the stimulus on her clit and the pounding force in her pussy. In moments, she came apart in his arms.

Nearing his own orgasm, Sean gave up the sexy grunts she loved that also signaled he was close. A husky groan rolled from deep in his chest as he came with a warm splash inside her, never taking his eyes off her face in the glass.

After a moment, he kissed her neck telling her to stay put. Stopping briefly by the linen closet, he disappeared into the bathroom and the water ran in the sink. When he returned, she was leaning limp and sated on the counter top. Quickly, but thoroughly, he cleansed her of the mixture of their juices.

Righting her pants and panties, he pulled her up in front of the mirror. His hands in her hair, he finger combed it and gathered it high in back, efficiently twisting the ponytail holder into place. Gripping the long skein of her hair, he tugged her head back until all she could see was his perceptive face.

“Something is bothering you,” he observed, not a question, a statement of fact.

“No, I—”

His hand tightened in her hair. “Don’t. I know you better than I know myself. You’re troubled about something.”

“It’s nothing.” Another lie. They were stacking up, end up end. Soon it would be an insurmountable barrier between them. She tried to add a little truth to the mix. “I’m stressed from the move, the new job, settling into the new house and with you heading off to god knows where next week. I’m worried.”

“God knows where Mexico is, baby.”

“I should have said godforsaken, instead. I’m scared, Sean.”

Other books

May the Best Man Win by Mira Lyn Kelly
Every Dead Thing by John Connolly
Blowback by Emmy Curtis
The Chasm of Doom by Joe Dever
Encounters by Felkel, Stewart
Redemption by Mann, H. M.
Clearly Now, the Rain by Eli Hastings
Silent Night by Mary Higgins Clark