14. Lucie
FOURTEEN
lucie
I slam my phone down as I wait in the bedroom.
Why the hell hasn’t Viv called?
I get her not picking up or having her phone, but she has my number.
I’m not a snitch to Dad.
Besides, she’s safe now.
I’m the one who got married.
And where’s the brute I married?
He told me to get all hot, and then he stomped off.
Why the hell was he so mad, anyway?
Declan’s sweet, funny, and nice.
I don’t really know the other two, but they’re nothing like Callahan.
I hate him. Despise him.
It’s just a pity that I also want him.
He’s charming when he wants to be, and he seduces with a softness that plays under the hardness of him.
But there’s dark in there, too.
And… and I don’t actually think he’s soft.
I think it’s a bullshit act.
I’ve seen him shoot people dead.
He killed John, shot him right in the head.
I think there was brain— I swallow.
John and I weren’t even remotely close, but he was still Headley’s friend.
The man had my phone number, courtesy of my sister.
That might be one of the reasons why Viv ran away, leaving me in the dust. Headley would have told her his friend had been shot and she’d have been in a total panic over it, maybe worried for her own safety because of her association.
I don’t know.
And I definitely don’t know what to make of Callahan.
He should be the kind of man to take and not think twice.
To use me like his personal service whore and claim it’s his right to fuck me when he wants.
We’re married.
But he hasn’t.
Even when he made me go down on my knees, I’m the one who sucked his cock.
He’d been about to push me away.
And now this… this dress.
I’d picked something short and sexy that Mom made me buy.
When I got out of the shower, another dress sat on my bed.
Black, almost Grecian in the lines, the swirl of the skirt, the low-cut front and thin straps.
Like he’d become my personal shopper, Callahan had also put out sheer black silk stockings, black heels with the famous red sole, and panties of pure, thin silk, so barely there I may as well not wear them.
No bra.
But I put them all on.
The dress skims, doesn’t cling, and comes down to just above my knees.
I look like me and not me.
A young woman comfortable in what she is, sensual over slap-you-down sexy.
I look at my phone again, send Viv another text, and fix my hair.
“Autumn, my ass,” I mutter.
I twist and pin it up with a slide comb, curling tendrils escaping.
Then I put on some eyeliner and mascara and hunt for lipstick.
“Red.”
I drop the tube, heart hammering.
I look up and forget how to form words.
Oh. My. Lord.
A shiver races and coils through me, hitting every organ and leaving them charged in its wake.
My pulse roars. Between my thighs, I swell, throb, and Jesus, I swear moisture coats my thighs, making me clamp them together.
The movement isn’t lost on him.
“Hot?”
“No, you don’t affect me in the slightest.”
Real delight lights up his face and he nods at me.
“I wasn’t asking if you were all turned on like your body’s signaling that you are. I wanted to know if you wanted a coat.”
I spin and grab on to the counter behind me.
“No, you weren’t. You know you turn me on. Of course, anyone would, I’m a virgin.”
“A virgin slut? How does that work?”
I narrow my eyes as heat streaks through me.
“Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?”
An answering heat glints in his eyes, and he steps into the bathroom, his black suit, one with a vest and charcoal tie, seems sexier in the white of the room.
“Maybe you’re what?”
“A slut.”
“I don’t think so. And I said virgin slut.”
“Maybe,” I say, trying to control my breathing, “I just find you attractive because this is some sexual awakening.”
The delight grows, which pushes the anger around inside of me.
I want to one-up him, I want him to be the one brought crashing to his knees.
“Enlighten me, guru.”
“Well, it could be you, could be one of your brothers.” His delight dims. So I push.
“Like Declan. He’s closer to my age. What are you? Fifty?”
“Thirty-two.” Yep, he’s no longer delighted now.
What he has transformed into is a dark, violent god.
And my knees are going to give way.
He puts a hand on either side of me and licks a path up my throat, making sure I can feel the stud.
The pleasure blossoms out of my core.
Then he bites me. Hard.
I squeal and moan at the same time.
Callahan laughs. But it’s cold.
“Touch my fucking brother, touch any of them, any other man who is not me, and I’ll punish you.”
“Is this the Dark Ages?”
“It’s the Callahan way. You’re mine.” He lifts his head, looks at me, and takes my face in one hand and kisses me, plunging his tongue into my mouth in a punishing, carnal kiss.
When he stops, the world keeps spinning and I grip that vanity like my life depends on it.
“Are you done?”
“No,” he says.
“Not yet. But you’ve fueled my imagination for the night. And I find your attempt to make me jealous refreshing. Strap in, Joy, things are about to get interesting. Wear the red lipstick. Be downstairs in five.”
He leaves and I sag against the counter.
I think I might have poked the beast and made him roar.
“Is this Dad’s club?”
Silence spreads in the limo and his brothers find other things to do.
“How many times have you been here?” Callahan asks softly.
“I haven’t. I just know about it.”
He slides an arm around me.
“The virgin has secrets,” he whispers in my ear.
“I can’t wait to uncover them.”
Callahan holds my hand as we go in, and curious eyes watch.
There’s nothing about the place that screams sex club, but a lot of the people carry bags or are dressed in impossibly sexy outfits, some borderline scandalous.
The girl behind the small standing podium, whose breasts are almost out of her top, almost simpers when she sees the four hot men I’m with.
The look I get is jealous and scathing, and then as she drops her gaze to my hand in Callahan’s, it suddenly turns respectful.
I look around at the nondescript entrance, dark and almost club-like but not, like there’s something unsavory beyond the blackened doors.
Callahan nods discreetly at Torin who goes over to her and they talk.
“Shoulda been me, Cal,” Declan laments.
“Those tits…”
“ Gobshite .” Seamus gives him a small shove.
“Really?”
“Shut up, both of you.” He squeezes my hand, which makes my heart sing in this seedy foyer.
One of the bouncers leads a tall woman over to us.
She holds a hand out to Callahan and he releases me to shake it.
Then his hand is back in mine, like he needs the connection the same way I do.
It grounds me, his touch, in this place.
“I’m Fran. Mr. de Rosa said you were coming by,” the woman says and we follow her through a door that bypasses the main floor.
We’re led up to the second floor, where some offices are.
“This is the brain center of the operation. Can I be blunt and ask if you are shutting us down?”
“There might be an overhaul,” Callahan says, once more glancing at me, “but I won’t be changing staff. If you don’t mind, Torin will go over the books and the other two will look around.”
Fran nods, breathing out like a weight’s been lifted.
“Of course. Live sex shows are on the basement level, and up here are rooms for couples to have sex, do their thing.”
“And security?”
“We don’t want private sessions. But there’s a viewing room where you can enjoy what goes on, as well as keep an eye on things. Igor”—she snaps her fingers—“will show you where all that is.”
“Thanks, Fran. I’ll see you soon.” Then Callahan leans close to me.
“Come on, let’s find your joy , Lucie Joy.”
He takes me out onto the main floor.
That’s where the mountain named Igor leads us.
He points out the bar but says that I might like it more in the viewing rooms.
A girl walks us there.
She has black hair the color of kohl and is gorgeous, with big breasts, a tiny waist, and legs that are a million miles long.
She’s also wearing almost nothing, pussy on full display, pierced in such a way that I can’t stop staring at it.
She’s got rings running along her labia on both sides and two in her clit with a silver chain that runs through them all, and then the chain’s clasped around her waist.
I know all this because she offers both me and Callahan the flirtiest smile, then she turns, bends over, and flashes everything.
She starts to reach around to pull everything open and put it on display, but Callahan stops her.
“Thanks, love, very pretty, but my wife and I just need a good old-fashioned guide to the rooms.”
“Oh.” She straightens, shrugs, and leads the way.
“Eyes off that cunt, Lucie. I’m possessive no matter what experiments you might have in mind, and while I might find it exciting to see your fingers deep in another pussy, I’ll probably have to kill the woman, and my mam wouldn’t like that. She doesn’t approve of killing women. Besides, Jingle Bells here seems nice. Even if she’s a show-off.”
A laugh jumps into my throat but I gulp it down.
Callahan takes me into a large room.
It’s decorated with chairs, a coffee table, and a big, round leather sofa with a high center that looks large enough for a group of people to lie on .
But there are also things .
My eyes don’t know where to rest.
“I’ll be back in a few,” Callahan says.
“Get a drink, enjoy the view, and…” He points two fingers at his eyes and then at mine.
“Remember, I’ll be watching you.”
With that, he’s gone and the door clicks.
I don’t know if he’s locked it.
I have half a mind to go after him, but one glance at the window as the wall, and I stop.
My eyes widen at the woman being fucked by three men.
I gape at the scene.
Can they see me? And how can they fit that many dicks inside of one hole?
She’s not moving much, and horror passes through me with a sick fascination.
The woman’s chained to the table they’re on.
My skin goes furnace hot and I fan myself, turning around, and oh, holy shit.
On my other side is a man in black wearing a mask, whipping a woman who looks like she’s moaning, and beyond their spotlight, I can make out others.
I turn once more. The next wall is an open floor with tables and people in various states of dress.
I stop.
Callahan.
I can’t see who he’s talking to, but there’s a beautiful woman standing too close to him for my liking, and while she’s still dressed, she’s there for sex.
I’m sure of it. That outfit’s got to be painted on, for Pete’s sake.
I grit my teeth as a wave of ugliness hits me.
It’s full of claws and violence, and I have an urge to scratch her face off her body, then I want to maim Callahan somehow.
I want?—
I stop as he turns, looks, and winks, like he can see me.
Can he see me? I give him the finger, but he’s already turned back and I slam a hand over my mouth.
Oh my God. Am I jealous?
I don’t like him. He’s a criminal.
And that’s that. Except he’s hot and wicked in the best ways, and he’s actually been good to me.
I think he’s a bad man, a very bad one, possibly worse than Dad.
He’s definitely lethal and ruthless, but to me he’s been different.
Almost… kind. He even cut himself to save my dignity on our wedding night.
Of course, he might have cut himself so he could get out of having sex, but that doesn’t make sense.
He’s very much interested in sex with me.
The only cruel thing he’s done is make me wait, teasing me without fucking me.
And I’m his bought-and-paid-for prisoner.
I’m not sure how much crueler that is.
“Lucie, you idiot,” I whisper.
Okay… I stomp off, ignoring all the sex I desperately want to watch and see if I can learn some things.
I head to the one wall that’s an actual wall in this fishbowl.
There’s also a room I think is a restroom and there’s a bar.
Jack and Coke. I make my drink and down it.
Then another. The Coke softens it, makes the burn better.
I wish I was a party girl like Viv.
That drinking was normal and drugs were designer and fun on occasion.
But I’m not.
I drink my drink and wrinkle my nose, unsure why he brought me to leave me here.
But he did, so I’ll watch the show.
I start to turn when the door opens.
Callahan steps in, his indigo eyes blazing.
“Time to have fun and test out this room.”
“I don’t?—”
“You can’t take your eyes off the gang bang. Come here, Lucie, time to walk on the wild side.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Strip you down to your soul and have you completely. Now come here.”
And God help me, I do his bidding.