She's All In: Club 3, Book 1 (9 page)

She swallowed visibly, her hands smoothing down over her little skirt. She was a study in contrasts. Spunky, always ready with a quick smile or retort and a body that wouldn’t quit, but with a shadow in her eyes, as if she weren’t sure she dared to follow through on the interest in her gaze, her response to him.

A woman shrieked behind him, her laughter ringing over the music. Daisy’s gaze snapped to the side, and Dack looked over as a little redhead darted past from the dance floor, naked except for a pair of tiny panties and her high-heeled sandals, her breasts bouncing. Behind her followed her date, grinning, her red leather dress hanging from his hand.

D’Aurien—the reason Rochelle was so upset. She’d been back behind the reception desk when Dack went to check on her, but her eyes had been swollen with tears. Women had a bad habit of falling for the first dom who spent some time focusing on them. He’d reprimanded her for her lapse with Daisy’s introduction, but he’d kept his voice mild and ended up giving her a hug.

Trace had promised to spend some time at the front desk with her and make sure she was okay to work until her relief showed up at midnight. Probably do a scene with her before the night was through, if he thought it would help her.

The redhead and her dom headed for the empty chair back in the corner. Dack watched Daisy carefully. Would the display scare her off, or would it reassure her that she wouldn’t be the only female with a bare ass?

She reached down and grasped the tab at her left hip. Ah, she was going to do it. He watched, his attention so focused on her slender hand that a bomb could’ve gone off behind him and he wouldn’t notice as she slowly pulled down the zipper that ran from the waist to the hem of her little skirt.

But then she froze, her head down, the unfastened skirt still clutched around her. Time to call her back.

“Daisy. Look at me.” She peeped up at him, her gorgeous eyes shadowed with doubt. Whatever she found in his gaze seemed to steady her. “Do it for me.”

Do it for me
, he repeated silently, willing her to obey.
Show me you want to submit to me, you want me to take you on the journey of your lifetime. That you want to blossom for me. Be my little sub, and let me suck all your sweet nectar.
Shit, he was turning into a regular poet here.

She let go of the zipper, and the skirt came away in her hand. She dropped it in the corner of the sofa with her purse, and her hands went back to her sides. Dack barely noticed, because now she stood before him clad in her halter top and a tiny leather thong.

He looked down over her, slowly, memorizing every inch of her from the bodacious breasts cradled in leather, to her little waist, and down over the smooth plain of her belly. The thin straps of the leather thong bisected her slanting hips, biting slightly into her soft, pale flesh. The small triangle of leather shielded her mons in the sweetest tease he’d seen for-fucking-ever. He’d already known her legs and thighs were pretty and toned, but they looked even better with nothing but her strappy little platform sandals on her feet.

She shifted, flexed her fingers nervously and then pressed them into the sides of her thighs, her palms flattening into the swell of flesh.

“Goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he said slowly, his voice rasping from his dry throat. His fingers dug into his thighs. More than his next breath, he wanted to command her to turn around for him, so he could see her gorgeous ass bared. But if she turned, she’d see Mason scoping her over his date’s shoulder and D’Aurien checking her out from the corner, even though he had a naked woman kneeling between his own legs. Dack wanted to roar at them to turn the hell away, that he wanted to see her first.

But his cock was swelling even harder at the knowledge that while they were watching, he was the only one who got to touch. And he knew just how this was going to go down. He’d scanned her consent form on his tablet on his way in tonight, to see if she had filled it out.

Not only had she done that, she’d checked yes to two of his favorites—spanking and public sex. She’d marked two and a half out of five possible on the interest scale for both, but what that told him—he hoped—was that she was interested but wasn’t sure she should admit that.

And he knew the whole mess with the keys hadn’t really been her fault, but it had caused an altercation between him and two club members. So he wanted some satisfaction, and he planned to take it out on his date’s ripe, round ass. While she was draped over his lap, like a good little sub.

But first, he needed to make a few things clear. “Daisy, what are the club signals?”

She blinked. “Um, green means go, yellow means slow down, let’s talk, and red means stop.”

He nodded, smiling approvingly. “So red and yellow are your safe words. You trust me to listen if you need to use them?”

She nodded.

He nodded back, acknowledging her trust. “Thank you. And I gotta tell you, you say ‘red’ and every dom in hearing distance will take notice, be at your side if you need them. Okay?”

She nodded again, smiling tentatively.

“What’s the second club rule?”

“Safe, sane and consensual.”

“And?”

“What happens at the club stays at the club.”

He nodded again, letting her see his approval. Time to roll.

He stood and moved to the side and sat down in the center of the sofa. Then he patted his thigh, holding her gaze with his. “Come here, Daisy.”

She stepped forward, tilting her hip gracefully to sit, as he’d figured she would. He shook his head, smiling slightly. “Over my lap, Daisy Petal.”

He watched her stiffen in shock. Shit, if he gave her time, she was going to bolt. Reaching out, he took her slender wrist in his hand, wrapping his hand around it, grounding her with a firm touch.

“Daisy,” he bit off. “You can leave. But if you want to stay, do as I say. Now.”

Her breasts quivered in their harness as she let out a huff of air. Her slender wrist trembled in his grasp. Then she nodded quickly and looked down at his thighs. He could see her getting set to go for it. She leaned forward to plant one hand on the sofa beside him. He let go of her wrist, and she lay down, over his lap, bracing herself on her forearms on the sofa.

Dack’s chest swelled, and his cock seized up so hard he hoped it wasn’t poking her like a rock. She was a warm weight across his thighs. Her gorgeous, bare ass curved up at him, bisected only by the thin line of the thong, disappearing between her round, full cheeks. Sweet Jesus, all his fantasies, bared for his hands and his touch.

“Mason, buddy,” he said without looking up from her ass. “Grab me a Number Four, would you?”

The other dom chuckled. “I’m on it.” He excused himself to his date and strode away.

Daisy twisted to frown up at Dack over her near shoulder. “Number four what? What are you going to do?” she demanded, doubt all over her pretty face.

He bit back the grin that wanted to spread over his own face. He laid his hand on her ass. Ah, she was like warm silk under his touch, soft and resilient. He squeezed and then stroked down over the full globe to the tender crease below. Let his fingers trail up the crease, reveling in the way she jerked slightly and then arched up into his touch. Her eyes widened, and she sucked her lower lip in with her top teeth.

“Well, Petal,” he said, fondling her. “I know you didn’t mean to, but you caused hard feelings between me and two other doms. You need to take care of that.”

She tensed under his hand, shifting as if to rise. “How? I’m not letting them touch me.”

He squeezed her, pleased by her answer. She hadn’t said he couldn’t touch her, just them. “No, no. No one’s getting his hands on you tonight but me.”

Mason reappeared, a wide wooden paddle in his hands. He held it by his side, low where Daisy could see it as she turned, following Dack’s gaze. Dack acknowledged his friend with a wink.

The woman draped over his lap let out a squeak of distress. “What is that for? You are not—”

Dack reached under her face, pressing his fingers lightly over her mouth. Her lips were soft, her breath a warm, nervous huff on his fingers. “Shh. Now, Mase, I think three smacks should do it for an apology. How about you?”

“No!” Daisy bucked under his hands, shaking her head vehemently. He held her down with a firm hand on her thigh.

Mason squatted to look her in the eye. “Sweetie, if I hurt you, you can punch me right in the kisser. If I don’t, then we’re square. How about that?” The guy had a way with women, no doubt about it.

She stared at the other man. She was trembling, whether from anger or nerves or embarrassment. Dack figured all three. She was new to all this.

“Daisy. Use your safe words if you need them,” he reminded her, squeezing her thigh. “We’re listening.”

She quivered in his hands, but finally, she nodded once.

Pride swelled inside Dack as she accepted his edict. He took his hand from her chin, sliding his arm under her throat so she could lean her head on it if she wanted. She held herself away from him. She was pissed, then. Well, he could live with that—until the other two were through. When it was his turn, she’d get over it, or he’d know the reason why.

Mason stood up, and Dack nodded to him. Mason hefted the paddle. Dack had chosen the widest of the paddles they kept here, because the broader the surface, the more the sting of contact was displaced. Mason brought the paddle down, smacking Daisy's bare ass lightly. She jerked but didn’t struggle. Again, again, and then Mason handed the paddle to Dack and squatted down to look Daisy in the eye.

Her ass looked even prettier decorated with a bit of rosy glow as blood rushed to the surface where Mason had spanked her. Dack cupped her there, stroking her gently. “What do you say to Mason, Petal?”

He couldn’t hear her voice over Stevie Ray Vaughn’s blues guitar, but Mason nodded to her, conferring his forgiveness, and said something back.

Then he rose and turned back to his date, watching wide-eyed from the depths of her chair. She looked up at Mason with lust and admiration. Dack grinned to himself. Those two were going to have a good night.

But his lady still had Kevin to deal with. He stood at the end of the sofa, scowling. Dack gave him a look as he handed him the paddle. “Not too hard, Kev. She’s brand-new.”

The other dom smirked. “Brand spankin’ new.”

Daisy tensed at the sound of his voice, and Dack cupped his hand over her thigh, telegraphing his reassurance. “Kevin’s turn, Petal.”

She nodded, pressing her forehead against his forearm this time. That pleased him no end.

Kevin swung the paddle, and it thwacked her ass so hard Dack felt as if the other dom had hit him. She jerked, crying out.

Dack thrust his hand protectively between her and the paddle, glaring ferociously at the other man. “All right, that’s more than enough, Kev. You and I will be talking later. Daisy, are you okay?”

Kevin, still looking pissed, shook his head. “Forget it, man.”

He tossed the paddle on the carpet by the sofa and stalked away. Dack glared after him. That had been completely unacceptable. The dude was perpetually pissed off about something. None of the women had complained about him taking it out on them, but he’d bear watching. Part of being a good dom was control. A man or woman who couldn’t control their own emotion couldn’t control a sub compassionately. And Daisy had shown zero interest in pain on her questionnaire. That was good, ’cause he was not the man to cause it intentionally.

“Are we done now?” Daisy demanded, scowling at him over her shoulder.

He smiled down at her, his good humor restored. Damn, she was cute. “Nope. It’s my turn, Petal.”

She glowered at him. “What do you mean, it’s your turn? I chose you, didn’t I? And what is that name you keep calling me?”

“Petal. Your hair reminds me of flower petals, especially when it’s ruffled like it is now.”

She blinked. “Oh.” Good, he’d distracted her with the pet name. He liked it better when a sub was off-balance emotionally, especially this one. She needed to rely on him here, not her own decisions.

He let her watch his smile disappear.

“And now it’s my turn to spank this pretty ass,” he told her. “For not obeying me when I told you to take your top off, and for not choosing me first tonight.”

He smacked her ass with his palm, taking care to stay away from the bright pink spot across her left cheek where Kevin, that asshole, had hurt her. What Dack planned would sting, but he’d let some sadist tie him up and whip him before he’d hurt his little sub.

As Dack’s broad, calloused hand smacked down on her bare ass, Daisy yelped. That stung—not as bad as when that asshole Kevin hit her with the paddle, but worse than Mason’s playful taps. At least Dack was using his hand. Although maybe it was worse in a way, because his palm felt really…intimate connecting with her bare ass.

Smack
. Dack was spanking her for not choosing him first? The thought bounced through her mind as he spanked her again, in a different spot. Again, and again, until her ass was on fire. Okay, enough. She was done with this whole thing. She’d come here for sex, not discipline.

Smack
. Daisy opened her mouth to scream at Dack to let her go, but instead a gasping hiccup emerged, and then another. Her eyes filled with hot tears that overflowed, down her cheeks and onto his arm, so strong and warm under her face.