Chapter 25 Cade
Chapter Twenty-Five
CADE
Violet hugs a pretty redhead who I assume is Macy. It’s either that or— I stop, tapping a hand on the back seat of the car.
The girl goes back to the bar, presumably to order another drink, but while she’s there, she stares after Vi as she leaves. I lean forward as she starts to walk toward the subway. “Follow her.”
“Dude,” the driver says. “I’m not going to prison.”
“She’s my girlfriend, asshole, just do it.”
The guy mutters but does as he’s told, and I tell him to pull up just in front of Violet. Then I push open the door.
“Cade?”
“No. I’m here to abduct you. Get in.”
I catch the little sexy smile that blooms, and I scoot over as she gets in, kissing me and sliding her hand along my thigh to my hand as she does so.
“Kidnap?”
“You know it.” I kiss her again, slipping a hand now up between her thighs to cup her pussy. She’s wearing fucking pants. Who allowed her to put on fucking pants?
I have a no-clothes-in-bed rule, but maybe I’ll need to add dresses and skirts only and no underwear rules to that, too.
Maybe I’ll make her a chart.
I slip my fingers up and down the creases of where her hot little pussy presses against the pants, pushing the seam in, rubbing her, making her moan in my ear as she parts her legs for me.
I claim her mouth, dry fingering her as much as I can.
The driver is silent, and I can imagine his eyes on her, as I lift my hand, pushing it up under her shirt, dragging it up to expose her lace cupped tit, and I lean down to chew on her nipple lightly, licking and sucking and making her gasp.
I edge the lace down to expose her and then I kiss and lick her throat, making my way up to her mouth as I undo her pants and slide my hand in to reach that liquid gold of her.
Because my little kinky girl is fucking wet. She’s lifting her hips as I grind the side of my hand in against her, pushing up, and I mash her clit.
I want to finger fuck her for real, but she’s panting, so I change my mind. I plunder her mouth, fucking her tongue with mine as I work her clit to give her a rough, fast orgasm, one that’s going to be both pleasurable and somehow empty.
She’ll want something in her, and I want her a mess.
The car swerves and someone honks loudly.
I also don’t want to pull her pants down to expose her as it’s only early evening and I don’t particularly want this guy to crash. The car swerves again as she moans out my name, shuddering against me, and her clit throbs hard against my hand.
I pull out and leave her to button up as I tug her shirt down, and she turns, hiding her face against me.
“You’re a menace,” she whispers, breathing hard.
“And you loved every moment.”
I meet the shocked driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and he averts them suddenly, like I caught him peeking. Which, I guess, I did. Even as I wanted to give him a show.
She pushes her face further in against me and while I want to discuss everything that happened in that wine bar, I don’t, waiting until we get to my loft.
We get out, and the driver takes off.
I slide my hand in hers. She’s everything a man could want.
More. And my heart swells, bigger than my dick that more than wants some action, and I wait until we’re about to go into the building when I push her into the wall outside and kiss her long and slow like we’ve got all the time in the world.
I think I could live my life with her and never be bored.
But there are too many people around at this hour to indulge her fantasies some more. Instead, I kiss her forehead and open the door downstairs.
When we reach my loft, I almost tell her to strip. But she does the next best thing. She changes into one of my oversized shirts and goes to the kitchen, pours us both a whiskey, and roots around for food.
“What are you in the mood for?” I ask, her ass flashing bare and gorgeous as she opens the bottom drawer of the fridge.
I lean against the counter and sip the whiskey.
“I was going to cook.”
“Can you cook?”
“I know how to not starve.” She grins.
I take the box of mac and cheese from her and put it away, kissing her nose as I pull her into my arms. “We’ll order something. It’s better, and we can shop for supplies on the weekend. Now. How did it go? Were you careful?”
She averts her eyes, and my heart sinks.
“Violet?”
“I was careful.” But she spins out of my arms to get her drink and then goes to the fridge and finds an old Sprite and murders her whiskey with an unhealthy glug.
“Vi.” I rub a hand over my head and almost knock my glasses to the floor. I pull them off and put them on the counter.
She comes up, folds them, and looks for the case.
I snatch them from her and just put them behind me. “Vi.”
“Cade. We talked. I, uh…told her I was looking for Gianna.”
“Christ.” I groan.
But she lifts big eyes to me. “It’s not that bad, and it’s what really got her talking. I told you, she works there, and she suggested I get a job there, too.”
I don’t move.
It’s probably the best way to find information. On all fronts.
Almost perfect.
Apart from the fact I know what working in places like that means.
“This might be a smart move, I guess. But there’s just one major problem with it. I’m not good at sharing. In fact, I might be a selfish prick when it comes to sharing my toys. I don’t. End of story.”
She shivers. “I’m your toy?”
“You’re very much my toy. To do with as I want.” Slowly, I grin. You like being called my toy, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Her nipples push at the soft cotton of my T-shirt she’s wearing.
Damn, I love how she gets all hot over word paintings, how I could probably make her come just by whispering nasty things in her ear, spinning her a filthy story of all the things I’m going to do to her, all the things I’m going to have done to her.
And it doesn’t matter if it’s something I’d do, like fuck her in public, or something I’d never do, like share her.
She gets off on the imagery and the fantasy of it all.
I really want to go there, spin her the nastiest, wildest, most erotic story I can think of, one where I can go further than I ever would and one she can tumble into without even needing to think of her safe word.
More, I want to take her hard against the counter and make her scream my name.
But I don’t.
I need to stay focused. “Mexican?”
“What?” she asks me, clearly non plussed.
“Dinner, do you want Mexican? Something simple, like tacos. Or Greek?”
“I don’t want to think about food right now,” she snaps, irritated. “What happened to being your toy?”
“You are. We know that. But…I don’t want you getting a job.”
“You’ll be there.”
I rub my eyes and sip my whiskey. “Will I? We don’t know if once you enter into that if Thomas would suddenly shut me out. You’re not doing it.”
“We can come up with something.” She takes a swallow of her Sprite and whiskey mess and wrinkles her nose, sets the glass down, and comes up to me, one hand on my chest. She looks up to meet my gaze. “I can say it’s a fantasy, and you need to be there, too.”
“And what? Take part?”
“Watch over me.”
“Vi, no one’s going to want a sex worker—”
“There are other jobs. Waitressing, or—”
“You really think the women who work there don’t have sex?
It’s a sex club. It’s what they’re all into.
Or supposedly into. Sex is a given. It always is at those kinds of places.
Some people don’t have partners who take part, and they don’t want the burden of a hook up with a single patron.
That can get messy. Rare, but it happens.
Go with a girl who’s into it and also is employed to be discreet, then that takes the mess away. ”
Her hand tightens. “Did you…?”
“No. I won’t lie as say I haven’t hooked up in clubs because I have. I like that anonymity, and I don’t have a high profile job. I’m a nobody. A ghost.”
Vi gives me a suspicious look that makes me want to laugh and hug her close.
“I don’t want you working that club, Vi, even if you could avoid sex.” Then I sigh. “And if you wanted to fuck others as the only way to keep you, we’d make it work, I’d choose them for you, clearly.”
“Clearly,” she says, a sweetness in her tone. And I don’t confuse it as her wanting to sleep with others. I honestly don’t think she does. It’s more I think she likes I’m there to keep her safe. Protect her.
“It’s not about the sex,” I say. “I don’t want you hurt. And I think we can get all the answers we want without you putting yourself in harm’s way.
She slides her arms around me and rests her head on my chest where my heart thuds deeply.
I’ll do anything to keep her safe. Anything.
Then she looks up. “Tacos would be good.”
“Anything for you.”
It’s late, and dinner’s done, and Vi’s asleep in my bed.
I sit on the sofa with her phone and my laptop. I’ve got Macy’s number now, and I hack into it.
I trust Vi, but I don’t know this girl, and that means I don’t trust her. So, I hack her. This way, I’ll know if trust is on the table or not. And the more I think about it, the more I’m positive there’s some kind of training center.
No way a club as exclusive as The Dungeon doesn’t train the girls. Trafficked or entering the club’s workforce of their own free will, there’s just no way.
And he wouldn’t have them trained at one of his lesser clubs. Just like he wouldn’t take girls who’ve worked the industry elsewhere.
Places like this are all about fresh meat, breaking in their girls and making them exclusive to that one place.
There are a few places in her GPS tracker that could be it, places she went to a lot after one visit to the club over a year ago. And now, she goes to them sporadically. I don’t know if they have different sites or what, but I’m going to find out.
Luckily, this girl’s security is worse than even Vi’s.
Maybe she’d have given the information of what these places are to Vi if she’d pushed this Macy, or maybe not.
But I don’t know her, and I’m also pissed that she suggested my girl work there.
What the fuck is up with that?