Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Joey
Cormac watches me as his hand slides up the outside of my hip to my waist and rests there. If I didn’t want to touch him so badly, I’d feel trapped standing between the car frame, the door, and him. But I like it. I don’t want to go anywhere. I like that I’m confined where he wants me. His fingers flex, pressing me toward him. I step closer, and he lowers his head, his lips only inches from me.
“Any time you want this to stop, you say so. It ends immediately.”
And if I never want it to end?
I lied when I said I was fine with this not being romantic. I wish it were. But if he’s not interested in that, I’ll live with it because I don’t think I can live without feeling Cormac inside me. Maybe he’s hot, but he’s shit in bed. It would make it easier to exorcise him from my mind. But I doubt that man doesn’t come in first place for everything he does—except for pool.
“What’s your safe word, cailín ?”
I love the sound of that word so much I nearly forget it’s a question. His emerald-colored eyes have me transfixed. My brain stalls, then it comes to me.
“Bodega.”
He grins, and tiny lines form around his mouth. I want to run my finger over them, but that’s affectionate. That’s the opposite of what we agreed to.
“Bodega it is.”
His lips brush against mine as I cant my head, so our noses don’t smash. He’s going tantalizingly slowly. The tip of his tongue traces my lips while his barely touch mine. When he slides it into my mouth, his lips finally press against mine.
Hell.
I feel my nipples tightening. He nudges me back against the car frame, and the hand not on my waist captures my wrist like he did inside. I’m completely malleable once I bring my other hand behind me.
His one hand encircles both of my wrists, and I long to know what it would feel like on my tits. I feel his cock against my pussy, and I long to climb him like a fire pole and slide down on it. I pull away from the car, wanting to be closer, but he doesn’t allow it on my terms. He gives me what I need, but he does it by widening his stance to have one foot on each side of mine. He tilts his hips and rubs his dick against me.
The kiss keeps going, and his tongue sweeps around my mouth. I let him explore before I suck on it lightly. I make sure it doesn’t feel like I’m going to swallow it. Just enough to hint at what my mouth could do on his cock. The hand on my waist jumps to my ass and squeezes so hard I whimper. Most men would stop at that sound. Cormac understands. He digs his fingers in harder. It’ll leave marks, and I want that. I want to see them in the morning and know Cormac left them. It’s possessive, and I know it. But it’s the only thing I’ll have after tonight.
We pull away, breathless. Our gazes lock for a moment before he kisses along my neck to behind my ear.
“That was delicious. I can’t wait to taste the rest of you. I plan to lick your cunt and suck your clit until you beg to come. I haven’t decided yet if I’ll let you.”
“Please.” I’m begging already.
“Maybe. If you’re a good girl.”
He adds the second sentence as he pulls away. His gaze drops to where my nipples stick out.
“Mmm. These might distract me. How sensitive are they?”
“Just enough, sir.”
His gaze grows even more intense, and I’d drop my panties right now if I could. He shifts away, so I can get in. He closes the door gently before moving around to his side. Once he pulls out of his spot, he explains how things will work.
“When we arrive, there’s a back door we’re going to use. I’ll make sure one of the Dungeon Masters has masks for us. I have recognizable tattoos, Joey. If you want people to watch, then you need to understand I will never be naked, even if you are.”
Fuck. That’s hot .
“I’ll only take my shirt off in a private room. My mask will always be a full hood. My hair is too recognizable too. If you want me to scene with it on, even in private, I will. Otherwise, I’ll take that off too when we’re alone. What’s your middle name?”
“Esmerelda.”
“Does Esme work?”
“Yes. Will the mask cover my entire face or just my eyes?”
“Whatever you prefer.”
“Can we start in a private room and see how things go?”
“Of course. You lead, Joey. We’ll do what scenes you want, but once we start, I expect your obedience. If you can’t or don’t want to do something, say ‘bodega.’ I’ll never guilt you or argue with you about your limits.”
He makes it sound like this really could happen more than once. Like we really might be together after tonight. I want to cross my fingers, toes, eyes, whatever.
“Do I call you sir or master?”
“Either, but I prefer sir.”
I test the water since his tone tells me he doesn’t like master. I’m fine with that. I don’t love it either, but I’ve said it plenty of times.
“How do you say sir in Irish?”
He glances at me as we turn right. Something flashes in his eyes that makes me think he likes my question.
“It’s not one word. It’s a dhuine uasail .”
“Oh.” Well, shit.
It’s definitely not something I’ll master in one try. His hand rests on my thigh for a moment before he shifts gears. Maybe he wouldn’t mind master in Irish.
“What’s master?”
He scowls, and this time he doesn’t look at me.
“Very similar to English. Máistir .”
“You don’t like that term, do you?”
“I don’t like you using it.”
That stings. Doesn’t he want to be a real Dom to me?
“What are your limits, Joey?”
“No marks that can show at work. Either a blindfold or earplugs, but not both.”
I struggle with double sensory deprivation. I need one or the other.
“Okay. Anything else?”
“I’m okay with everything else.”
“Birching? Caning?”
“That’s fine.”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob. He doesn’t love that either, but he’ll do it if I specifically ask.
“Is that not your thing?”
“Not always.”
For someone who just told me he wants to eat me out, he’s suddenly gotten awfully shy. I shift my attention to look out the windshield, but I see his grip loosen on the steering wheel and gear stick.
“Is there anything else I should know about the club’s rules?”
“Normally, you wouldn’t be within the dress code, but they’ll make an exception.”
For me .
That’s what’s silently left dangling. Just how much time does he spend there?
“Will anyone approach us?”
“No. We won’t be in the areas where couples can encourage others to join them. We’ll find a private room to start.”
Tonight, or whatever this is between us? I don’t think I want to know the answer, so I keep it to myself.
“Do you expect me to remain silent when we’re in the public areas? When we scene?”
“You decide how much you do or don’t want to talk, cailín . If you’re not comfortable talking in the main areas, then I’ll do it. When we’re scening, you can say whatever you want unless I command you not to. I’ll ask questions to check on you. You will answer those.”
Or we stop .
Yet another sentence that dangles silently between us.
“What about noise? Do you prefer a moaner, a screamer, or nothing?”
We’re at a stoplight. He twists to look at me fully. His hand rests on my thigh again, much closer to my vag. The backs of his fingers graze over my clit before he squeezes.
“I prefer to know you’re enjoying what we share. If you prefer being quiet, then I’ll ask more questions to ensure you’re okay. If you want to moan or scream, do it. This is as much about you as it is me. You might be my sub, but you won’t become my slave.”
I nod. You might be my sub, but you won’t become my slave. Again, I wonder if he means just for tonight or for more nights to come. We should get through this one before I ask those kinds of questions. We hinted it would be more, but we might hate this and never want to be together again.
Bull-fucking-shit.
I’m going to love this.
“If I like something, and I want to keep going, but it’s too much, how do I let you know? I mean, if I don’t want to stop altogether, but I need it lighter?”
He thinks for a moment, then quirks a brow. “Deli?”
Bodega and deli.
I laugh and nod. “Sure.”
We grow quiet as he parks. When I reach for the door, he leans across me and stops me.
“Most days aren’t like the one when we met or even when I ran into Pablo. Most days are normal by normal people’s standards. But when you’re with me, there are extra precautions. Never get out of the car before I open the door for you. Part of it is chivalry. My parents would skelp my arse if I didn’t. But an equal part is precaution. I want to be outside and surveying the area before you get out of the safety of my car. If I tell you to stay inside, you obey. You lock the doors and stay put. The windows will always be up before I pull into a spot. What I’m willing to risk when I’m alone isn’t what I’m willing to risk with you. When we have our masks, I’ll park a little farther away because anyone looking for me would recognize my cars. Tonight, I want us closer since we don’t have the anonymity.”
That definitely sounds like he assumes—expects—there to be more than just tonight. And cars? Just how many does he own? I’m certain he’s richer than I can imagine.
“Yes, sir.”
“Cormac…Or Cor.” He says his nickname softer. “We’re not in a scene. I’d rather you say my name.”
“Am I only your sub when we scene? Or do you want D/s dynamics whenever we’re together?”
“You can always call me by my name, Joey. If we’re scening, I’ll punish you if you do because you’re being careless or flippant. But if you need my attention or we’re merely talking, then use my name or sir. Whichever you prefer.”
He slides out of the car, and it gives me a moment to breathe as he walks around to my door. This is fucking intense. One moment I was hoping to run into him at his cousin’s bar. The next I’m agreeing to go to a sex club with him. Now, I’ve agreed to be his sub. I feel like we leapt over about sixty steps, but I don’t want to go back or slow down.
He stands outside my door for a moment while he taps his phone screen. Perhaps he’s requesting the masks be at the door when we get there. He slips his phone into his pants pocket and looks around. He opens my door and offers me his hand. I feel like a princess—at a BDSM club. Not quite what Disney had in mind, but it might be my happiest place on Earth.
I get out, and he closes the door behind me. Once again, his hand is at my lower back. I know not to expect him to hold my hand or wrap his arm around me. But I can still wish he would. He knocks on the door, and an enormous guy opens it. None of us speak as the bouncer gives us the masks.
Mine covers my entire face, but not the rest of my head. Cormac’s is like you see in a mocking all-leather BDSM meme. Except, he doesn’t look like a middle-aged potbelly, hairy man. He looks mysterious and intimidating, which only adds to his sex appeal. I know I’m not alone in my opinion because I see men and women watching him as we walk toward the reception desk. It’s not mere curiosity. It’s lust.
And I’m jealous.
We have to wait for a Dungeon Master to come to us, so while we’re alone, he leans in to whisper to me. “Are you comfortable being in your bra and panties or naked? Or would you rather stay in your clothes until we get in a room?”
“I’m fine with any of those. The clothes are getting more attention than I think either of us wants, so it might be best if I just wear my bra and panties.”
He sweeps his gaze around the room, lingering on someone, but I don’t know who before he looks back at me. It surprises me when he shifts his hand to my waist. From behind, it’ll look like his arm is around me.
“We agreed no one is joining us. Stay close to me because I won’t be as patient as I was earlier if a guy approaches you. No one is going to think you’re available. My former sub is here, and there’s a good chance she’ll try to embarrass both of us or try to join us. I’m not interested in seeing or speaking to her. Things didn’t end well when I broke it off. If I’d known she’d be here, I would have suggested somewhere else.”
“Somewhere else? How many clubs do you belong to?” I didn’t mean to blurt that.
“One other, but I know enough people to have unlimited guest passes just about anywhere.”
I hurry to fill out the forms the DM gives me, then I slip into the restroom to change, putting my clothes in a locker. I step through the door as a woman who looks like a fucking Sports Illustrated swimsuit model sidles up to Cormac. She reaches for him, but he shifts away. He crosses his arms, and she tries again. He unfolds them and turns toward me. I don’t know how he knew I was here, but he did. The woman’s speaking as he walks away. I never imagined he’d be so rude.
“That’s Deirdre, and I’m not interested in anything she says. There’s a room for us upstairs.”
We head toward the stairs, but Deirdre beats us there.
“You won’t answer my calls, Cor. I’m pregnant.”