What He Guards (What He Wants, Book Twelve) (5 page)

And maybe he was right.

But I wasn’t going to take that chance.

I stayed in the car as Noah got out,
taking a moment to myself for a deep breath and an effort at calming my
pounding heart.
 
I’d thought the
fact that I’d been to Force before would perhaps make being back here a little
easier.
 
But the thought of going
inside was just as intimidating as ever.

Noah opened my car door, and I took his hand
as he helped me onto the sidewalk.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he
asked.
 
“It’s not too late to just
call the police.”

“No.”
 
I shook my head.
 
Now that I was here, my resolve was weakening, but not enough for me to
call the whole thing off.
 
The
street was deserted, and I marveled at the fact that there were so many people
in the club and yet you couldn’t see anyone coming or going.

There was no sign of the things that were
happening in there.

Noah didn’t try to change my mind.
 
Instead, he reached up and began
unbuttoning the coat I was wearing.

I pulled it tighter around my
shoulders.
 
“I want to keep this
on.”

He stayed quiet, but I could tell from
the look in his eyes, from the look on his face, that he thought we’d have a
greater chance of drawing out Katie’s killer if I took the jacket off, if I
walked into Force with my body on display.

I nodded silently, and he removed the
coat from my body and set it in the car.

He took my hands in his and kissed me
softly on the forehead.

Then he reached into his pocket and
pulled out what looked like a leash.

I shook my head.
 
“I don’t want to be collared.”

“It’s not a collar.
 
And it’s not up for discussion.”
 
He fastened a leather cuff around my
wrist.
 
The cuff was attached to a
long silver chain.
 
Noah wrapped
the end of the chain around his hand, weaving it around his strong
forearm.
 
“You will not take this
off while we are outside of my private room.
 
No matter what happens.
 
Do you understand, Charlotte?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not fucking around, Charlotte.”
 
His forceful tone was laced with
tenderness and protection, and I felt a surge of love for him.
 
I allowed myself one tiny moment of
wishing, one tiny moment of fantasizing that we were just a normal couple, that
we were going out on a date in the city before heading back to Noah’s apartment
where we’d watch a movie and cuddle in bed.

Noah pulled on the leash, making sure the
cuff was tight on my wrist.
 
“Do
not take this off.”

“Yes, sir.”
 
I’d meant it to come off as sarcastic and flippant, but
instead my voice sounded pliant and submissive.
 

He nodded in satisfaction.
 
He leaned in close to me.
 
“If you want to leave, you just say
‘red’ and we stop,” he said.
 
“I
will get you out of there.”

I nodded, and he kissed my lips.

Then he took my hand and led me through
the door and into Force.

***

I noticed more details this time.

The narrowness of the corridors.
 

The way our footsteps echoed over the
concrete floors.
 

The smell was stronger than I remembered
– smoke and must and something industrial.

 
I tried to pay attention as Noah led me through the winding
halls, tried to focus on whether we turned left or right, if there were any
doors or distinct markings I could use as landmarks.
 
The last time we’d been here I was so overwhelmed I hadn’t
been able to keep track of where I was.

I knew I needed to try as best I could to
learn the layout of this place.
 
But it was impossible.
 
The
corridors all looked the same, the winding deep red and black pattern of the
walls swirling together, making it seem as if each wall bled into the
next.
 

Despite my best efforts, soon I had lost
all sense of direction.

Eventually, we got to the end of the main
corridor, which opened into the main room.
 
There was a bouncer standing at the front, just as there had
been last time.

He nodded at Noah as we passed by.
 
The bouncer’s eyes met mine, and I
recognized him as the one I’d asked about The Dark Room, the one who’d led me
to Audi.

Suddenly, everything from that night came
rushing back to me in flashing scenes that burned in my brain.

Noah ripping up our contract.

Me running out of the room.

Anonymous telling me to ask for The Dark
Room.

Being strung up by Noah’s brother, the
way Audi had looked when he’d sliced my skin with his knife.
 
The wound was still there, and although
it hadn’t been bothering me, as soon as I thought about it, a throbbing pain
seemed to radiate from the cut.

Noah’s hand tightened around mine as if
he instinctually knew I was struggling, and his touch gave me strength.

The room was much the same – the
scuffed black tables and chairs scattered around randomly as people moved them
to suit their needs, FORCE written across the ceiling in scrawled letters.

I remembered those
girls,
the one’s going to the slave auction, how dead their eyes had looked, their
expressions withered like husks.

Now up on the stage was a woman wearing a
plaid schoolgirl outfit, her hair in pigtails, knee socks and black Mary Janes
on her feet.
 
She was bent over a
heavy oak desk.
 
A tall African American
man forced her to hold her skirt up as he whipped her ass with his belt.
 
Another woman in a matching plaid
uniform sat in a chair watching them, her legs spread for the crowd as she
fucked herself with a vibrator.

The club seemed busier tonight, or maybe
I was just more aware of the men around me, wondering if any of them were
Anonymous. Their eyes raked up my body, over my breasts and my bare ass, making
no qualms about the fact that they were enjoying ogling me.
 
They were an eclectic bunch, some of
them wearing leather and carrying whips, some of them dressed in suits, some of
them casual in jeans and dark t-shirts.

Noah led me to a table in the corner.

“Aren’t we going to your room?”
 
I asked, surprised that he wanted to
sit out here.

“Oh, make no mistake, Charlotte, you are
going to be taken back to that room.
 
You have been very reckless, and your behavior will have consequences.”

Before he could elaborate, a girl
appeared before us, her dark blonde hair pulled back in a sleek bun, her body
tight and toned.
 
She looked
airbrushed and spray tanned, her body glittering under the lights.

“Can I get you a drink, sir?” she asked,
her gaze pointed toward the floor.

“Water,” Noah said.

She nodded and walked away. Her tiny gold
skirt barely covered her ass, and her cheeks flexed under the shiny metallic
material.

“Why did she call you ‘sir’?” I asked,
irritated.

“She’s a slave.”

“So?
 
She’s not your slave.”

“The slaves who are not purchased at the
auction become property of the club.
 
They are instructed to refer to all patrons as ‘sir.’”

“And they serve drinks?”

“Yes, among other things.”

“I didn’t like the way she was looking at
you,” I grumbled.

“She wasn’t looking at me at all.”

“Exactly.
 
She wanted to make it clear that she’d allow you to dominate
her.”

“She’d allow anyone to dominate
her.”
 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that she exists to please anyone
who wants her.”

“Anyone?”

“Yes.”

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

“She’s given her consent to be used by
the club for any way it sees fit.
 
And that includes by its members.”

“So basically what you’re telling me is
that anyone who wants to can fuck her?”

“Anyone who wants to can use her for
their own pleasure.”

The girl returned then with our water,
setting it down on the table in front of us.
 
Her face was eerily beautiful
,
her eyes big and blue
.
 
She had the thin, angular look of a model or a starlet.
 
She couldn’t have been more than
nineteen or twenty.
 

“Is there anything else I can do for you,
sir?”
 
Her voice was soft and
submissive, her intent clear.

“That will be all,” Noah said, and she
scurried off.

My water had been served in a silver
goblet filled with crushed ice.
 
It
had a smooth, crisp feel in my hand, and I marveled at the rules of this new world,
where men could use young, beautiful women in whatever way they deemed
fit.
 
It was just another way I had
to compete with for Noah’s attention.

I sipped my water as we watched the scene
on the stage.

The schoolgirls had been replaced with a
woman dressed in a blue-and-white checked hospital gown.
 

The stage had been set up with props
– a folding table in the corner, medical equipment hanging from a rolling
cart.

A man entered in a white doctor’s coat,
and began asking the woman on stage a series of medical questions.

I shifted on my chair as he began
examining her, pushing her gown to the side and roughly handling her breasts.

I watched as the girl struggled a bit,
trying to push the doctor away.

“Trust me,” he said.
 
“I’m a medical professional.”
 
He grabbed the girl and ripped her gown
away, pushing her down roughly on the table.

My breathing became labored, my cheeks
flushed.

Noah was watching me carefully.
 
“Does that turn you on, Charlotte?”

I shook my head no.

The side of his mouth twitched up into a
devious grin.
 
“Really?
 
Because you seem flushed.”

He stood up and moved so that he was
standing in front of me.
 

“What are you doing?” I asked as he
opened one side of his jacket so that it was blocking us from the view of the
club.
 

“Finding out if you’re a liar.”
 
His hand pressed between my legs,
rubbing over the outside of my bodysuit.
 
His grin became more wicked.
 
“Why, yes, Ms. Holloway, I do believe you’re lying.”

I crossed my legs, embarrassed.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,
Charlotte.”

“I’m not… I mean
,
it’s not the medical stuff.”

“Is it her struggle?”

I nodded and then looked away,
embarrassed.
 
How could something
so disgusting, so repulsive excite me?
 

“Look at me,” Noah commanded.

I looked up at him, standing there in front
of me, so strong and beautiful.

He leaned down and kissed me.
 
“Never look away from me in
embarrassment.
 
Everything about
you is beautiful, every thought, every desire. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

He stood back up and took my hand.
 
“Come on,” he said.
 
“It’s time we had some fun of our own.”

***

When we got into his private room, he
shut the door softly behind him and removed the cuff from around my wrist.

“Strip,” he demanded.

I removed my bodysuit and stood there
,
 
naked
and
blushing under his gaze.

“Get down on your knees, Charlotte,” he
said.
 
“From now on when we come in
this room, I would like you to kneel immediately and await my instructions.”

“Yes, sir.”
 
I kneeled down on the floor and was careful not to make eye
contact with him, following the example of the slave waitress.