Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
ASHER
Anabelle sits on the couch with a grin.
I’m not sure how much she’ll be grinning after she hears everything I have to say. She might think joining just means that she’s going to get to fuck me in private in one of the rooms like the one I found her and Preston in, but she’s wrong.
“The first thing you need to know, which you’ve already figured out on your own, is that you cannot speak to anyone about anything that goes on down there. Ever.”
She nods and looks eager for me to continue. This girl’s curiosity will be her downfall someday.
“You also need to know what the initiation involves. And don’t even ask if you can skip it because there’s no way around it. It’s for everyone’s protection.”
She bites her lower lip. At least I know she has some sense of self-preservation.
“You must perform in front of all the members, and by perform, what I mean is this—whoever nominates you will make you act out whatever fantasy they want in front of the group. Unmasked and on video.”
She shifts on the couch, gaze darting around the room for a moment.
Not so sure now, is she? Good.
“What happens to the video after?”
A slow smile spreads across my face. She’s smart. “The video remains the property of my brothers and me, though in your case, I would be the only one with access to it.” There’s no chance I’m letting Nero get his kicks by playing back whatever might go down.
“And what will you do with it?”
Did her voice just get breathier?
“Nothing, if you never break any rules of the club. If you do, then it will be used as revenge or leverage. It’s the same reason we keep the videos of all the members.”
“Okay, is there anything else?”
Jesus. Why does she still sound so eager?
“Yes. Since I’m the one nominating you, it will be me getting you to do my bidding.
And when I say you have to do anything, Anabelle, I mean it.
I could ask you to shove a ten-inch dildo up your ass, and you’ll have to do it.
I might tell you to fuck every man or woman there that night, and you’d have to do it. ”
A slow grin creeps across her face. “But you wouldn’t. So what would you do?”
Damn her for calling my bluff. “I’m a Dom, Anabelle. I like to dictate the scene, and you would be submissive to me and do whatever I tell you to. You’d relinquish all your control to me and trust that I’ll take care of you.”
She thinks about that for a moment and nods. “Will you hurt me?”
Her big, innocent eyes make me wish I could say no, but who knows how I’ll feel once we’re in a scene. “That depends. It’s possible. But I wouldn’t do it to be cruel or out of anger. In the end, it would be to bring both of us pleasure.”
“Can I stop it if I want to?”
“You always have the option of ending a scene at any point. We’d have a safe word.”
Damn it, my cock is growing in my pants from just talking about this with her. Thinking about how it would feel to control her pleasure.
“What else?” she asks.
This is the most important part. “You need to know that just because we’re fucking, it doesn’t mean anything to me.
We will only be messing around on club nights, and it will not carry over into our daily lives.
I won’t fall for you. I won’t fall in love with you.
There is not going to be anything romantic between us. ”
My words are harsh, but they’re for her own good. I can’t be what she deserves, what she likely needs in a man. That fate was set in stone decades ago.
Hurt flashes across her face for a second before she covers it. “Sex only. Got it. But you do want me… sexually, right? I’m not trying to force you into something you don’t want to do…”
The insecurity in her eyes guts me, but I can’t tell her that. If she knew the truth—how she’s become my obsession, how the idea of Preston laying one filthy finger on her makes me want to burn down the fucking world—it would give her too much power over me.
“You wouldn’t be a pity fuck if that’s what you mean.”
She swallows hard again and nods.
“Consider all that. If you’re okay with it, then we’ll figure it out. But if you’re not—and it’s fine if you’re not—then you can pretend you never stepped foot down there. Now, I have things to do. Take the day off, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Give me your answer on Friday.”
I stalk out of my office. Honestly, I’m not sure what answer I hope she’ll give me—which just proves what a bastard I am.
The next morning over breakfast, my brothers corner me in the dining room. I knew they would.
“What happened with Anabelle after we left yesterday?” Nero asks.
“You ready to admit she’s a problem?” Kol practically growls before he shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth.
I finish my sip of coffee and set the cup back on the table. “She wants to join the club.”
They all stare at me for a beat.
Sid is the first to say anything, and he starts with a chuckle. “No shit. Who knew all that innocence was hiding a kinky side?”
I shoot him a scathing look. “She’s young. And curious.”
“What did you say?” Nero asks, refilling his coffee.
“I told her most of what she needs to know and told her to think about it and get back to me Friday.” I pop a blueberry in my mouth.
“You’re not seriously thinking of letting her join. She has nothing to lose. She can’t be trusted,” Kol says.
She’s lost plenty already.
“If you want to fuck her, just do it, Ash. You don’t have to have the club as an excuse,” Sid says.
My hand fists on the table, the jaw of the bear tattoo stretching farther open. “This isn’t about fucking her.”
Isn’t it though? If it weren’t Anabelle, would I entertain letting anyone without stature and a shit-ton of money join? In truth, probably not. I’d likely just ask Kol to do whatever it takes to make them a non-issue.
“Oh, so we all get our turn with her then,” Kol says with a sadistic laugh.
“None of you will lay a finger on her, do you understand me?” I look each and every one of my brothers in the eye until they nod their acceptance. “Whatever she decides, I’ll deal with it. If she does join us, she knows what this is and what it isn’t.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Sid murmurs under his breath, but I don’t bother responding.
We eat in silence for the next few minutes until Kol stands, tossing his napkin down beside his plate.
“I’ll be out of town for a few days,” he says.
My forehead wrinkles. I can’t think of anything he has to leave town for. “Where are you going?”
“Got a lead on Rapsody I need to follow up on.” He leaves the room without a backward glance.
“You’d think he’d have given up on that by now,” Sid says.
I sigh. “I don’t think he’s going to give up until he’s dragged her back here.”
Lord help us when he does.
I finish my breakfast and walk to my office, ready to lose myself in work and stop fucking daydreaming about what it would be like to have Anabelle at my mercy. What I might do to her. What I might make her do to me.
When I swing open my office door, I pause.
She’s already there, sitting on the chair by the fireplace, waiting for me.
Like yesterday, she came dressed to do battle.
She’s wearing another form-hugging dress that hikes up to mid-thigh since she’s sitting, and her hair is down and wavy, falling in front of one shoulder.
Her makeup is heavier than normal, and like yesterday, her lips are painted red.
A color I wouldn’t mind seeing wrapped around the base of my cock while tears destroy her makeup and saliva slides down her chin.
I have to give my head a shake to loosen the image from my mind. I step into the room, closing the door. “Good morning, Miss Boudreaux.”
She doesn’t bother to return my greeting. “I want in. I don’t need to think about it until Friday. I know what I want.”
I sigh and set my hands on my hips. “Anabelle…”
She stands from the chair and stalks toward me. “Don’t treat me like I’m a child, Asher. I don’t need you to protect me. I might not be thirty-six.” She rolls her eyes. “But I’m not a child. I’m an adult, and I can make my own decisions.”
I take her in, head to toe, and yes, there might be quite the age difference, but she is indeed all woman. And I can see clearly that she’s a woman who will not be swayed. “All right.”
She blinks a couple of times. “All right? I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”
So did I. Which just goes to show that I can’t rely on my better judgment where this woman is concerned. I have none.
“It’s obvious you’re not going to back down. Maybe you will after your first experience.”
She juts her chin higher. “Not likely.”
I chuckle because I admire her bravado. “We’ll see.” Then I walk toward my desk.
She follows. “What happens now?”
“What happens is that you’ll undergo a health check—everyone has to between parties. Are you on birth control?”
Her cheeks pinken, and she nods.
Jesus, if she can’t even handle me asking her these questions, how is she going to handle putting on a show in front of everyone?
“Good. The theme for next month is leather and lace. I’ll provide you with what you should wear.”
She walks closer to the desk and sits in the chair across from me. “There are themes?”
There’s still a lot I haven’t told her about how things work down there. “Yes.”
“Will you tell me what you plan to do to me ahead of time?” She bites her lower lip, something I’ve realized is a tell for when she’s anxious.
“No. Though we will discuss a safe word ahead of time.”
She sucks in a deep breath and nods.
“You sure you want to venture down this path? That you can handle it?” I arch an eyebrow in challenge.
“Oh, I can handle it, Mr. Voss. Can you?”
That’s the three-million-dollar question, isn’t it? Because if this woman burrows any deeper under my skin, I’ll have no choice but to send her away, for both our sakes.