Chapter 42
Chapter forty-two
Sage
Paisley convinces me to give up on the whiskey for tonight and join her in drinking the bright pink cocktail instead.
I caved with the promise that she’ll drink whiskey with me next time.
Her wide eyes held fear for a few moments, and then with a fortifying breath, she agreed.
I swear I saw panic enter Fain’s eyes and heard Barrett chuckle behind me.
Next time? That implies I intend to stick around, allowing Barrett to keep me. But the concern that returns every few hours is banished with the first sip of the sweet, crisp drink shocking my senses
From the moment we’re two drinks in, we’ve been cozy and close with our heads together exchanging stories I never thought to share with another person. My cheeks burn when I tell her about the fox tail.
Paisley points to the fine white gold chain around her neck. “It’s part of a set. When we’re home, it’s a full leather collar.” Our voices are hushed whispers and I’m praying the men can’t hear despite sitting beside us, but they’re rumbling voices carry their own conversation.
“So … um … I don’t know how to ask this.” I chance a peek over my shoulder, and whip my head back when Barrett slowly turns his head my way. Lowering my voice even further, I lean closer to her ear and whisper. “What do you call him?”
Paisley’s bottom lip disappears between her teeth. As I wait for her answer, I register the silence around us. We both straighten and see the indulgent gazes resting on us. Even Rafe’s eyes hold a modicum of amusement.
“I think we should go dance,” Paisley announces, grabbing my hand and pulling me up with her. I’m surprised Barrett and Fain don’t stop us or even follow us toward the stairs. The three men lean over the balcony, watching with eyes like hawks.
Barrett nods to someone and seconds later, I see two large men standing at the side of the dance floor staring at us.
“Who’s that?” They look familiar. I likely saw them the first night I came here. Maybe they’re the bouncers? But I was in a unique state when I blackmailed an assassin and thought I got away with it.
“Pike and Shaw.” Paisley leans close and raises her voice over the music. “They’re bouncers, maybe more. They aren’t always at the front door or monitoring the bar and dance floor.”
“How often does Fain bring you here?”
“Not that often.” She shrugs. “But I’ve been with him for over a year.
He’s taken me to Rafe’s bar too. My first time there was definitely memorable.
” Her cheeks flush and she closes her eyes while pulling away to move with the music.
When the song ends, she comes closer again. “You asked what I call him.”
“Yes.”
“You asked for a reason.”
“Yes.”
“I call him Daddy. You do too, don’t you?”
“Yes.” There’s a whine of embarrassment and I cover my face with my hands.
Paisley pulls on my wrists and shakes her head, telling me without words I have no need to be embarrassed. We dance, knowing the music is too loud to carry a longer conversation. This was a way to get out of earshot of the men and we’ll use it to our advantage when we’re finished dancing.
Which happens sooner than we expected when two men dressed in tailored suits approach us from either side. I feel the energy shift and know it’s zeroing in on us from the upper level.
The two men don’t try to dance. The one behind Paisley leans close, almost nuzzling her neck while speaking in her ear. A too-soft hand brushes down my bare arm. I shiver and step to the side.
Paisley shakes her head at whatever the suit behind her says and attempts to back away, but he shoots his hand out to block her behind her back.
“You two shouldn’t be out here alone.” The heat of his breath forces me to shy away, but like his partner, he isn’t about to let me go.
His hand tightens on my arm. “Come sit at our table.” No offer, no request, or any sort of incentive.
No attempt at charming us as I’d expect in a place like this.
I’m starting to think my telling Barrett that he was the only one capable of decent conversation here was truth rather than flirting.
“No. We’re good here.”
“Not dressed like this, you aren’t.” His other hand flicks the bottom of my dress.
Paisley and her suit are having a staring contest, one the guy seems to be enjoying based on the bulge growing in his pants.
They’re handsome, I’ll give them that, and maybe this cocky approach gets them what they want on most days, but I wouldn’t be interested even if I weren’t with Barrett.
Guys like this are why I don’t care for clubs.
The dancers around us part and Pike and Shaw push their way between us and the suits.
“Not yours.” I don’t know which one is Pike and which one is Shaw, but the one standing in front of me towers over the guy
“Yeah? Says who?” He attempts to reach around Pike or Shaw, whoever is blocking him. I’m picking Shaw. They look similar, certainly have a similar build and skin tone. Their profiles are the same shape, but the difference lies in their eyes and jaws.
Maybe Shaw juts his chin up. “The owner.”
When I look up, even I have a chill run down my spine. Barrett and Fain stand shoulder to shoulder with arms crossed and death in their eyes. Rafe doesn’t have the same finalizing promise in his eyes, but he looks deadly enough as he leans against the railing.
Maybe Shaw takes a step forward, forcing the guy in front of him to step back. He says something I can’t make out over the music.
The two cocky suits glance at each other, but thankfully they back down and leave, not only the dance floor, but they keep going toward the exit.
Maybe Pike follows them and Maybe Shaw hovers closer to us.
But I don’t feel like dancing anymore, not with the tension sitting on my chest or the attention the crowd gives us because of the scene.
Everyone noticed the parting of the seas for these two mountain bouncers.
Paisley seems to have the same idea and hooks her arm in mine. As we walk to the bar, Maybe Shaw follows too closely for conversation.
“Six feet, Shaw.” Paisley holds her palm out toward him. I feel a little pride that I guessed the correct names for the bouncer brothers.
Shaw pauses and allows us to continue without him breathing down our necks.
Paisley leads us to the bar and orders us two more cocktails. “It was a little odd at first, calling him Daddy.” She leans close. “But the longer we’ve been together, the more fitting I realize it is. And the more I realize I need it. Deserve it.”
“We’re treasured,” I add, laying out my most vulnerable emotion I’ve felt with Barrett.
“Yes. Treasured, valued, respected.”
“Even when they demand us to crawl.” I don’t know what Fain demands of Paisley, but the way her cheeks flush, I believe I’ve nailed something on the head.
“Or pet our heads while they make us clean their cocks with our tongue.” Her shy, hushed description makes me blush, even though Barrett hasn’t made me do that to him. But now I want to.
“Being with him has been one of the easiest things in my life.” From the moment he showed up at my house to collect the photos and didn’t hurt me, his touch was easy, his words, his demands.
When he can get me to let go and my mind shifts to being his pet, every other thought melts away like the last pile of snow in the hot sun. Every decision is taken care of.
“I’m really happy to have someone else that understands this. I never had a chance to make friends, and being with Fain hasn’t helped. I didn’t realize until tonight how much I needed one.”
“I can’t say I don’t have friends, but I don’t have someone to call up and talk to when I really need connection and advice.”
Paisley holds up her drink and I copy the motion to silently toast to a friendship I hope will last. But if things blow up with Barrett, I’ll lose more than just the best relationship I’ve ever had—I’ll lose a new and fragile friendship.
Shaw breaks his promise of distance to point up at the second level. Barrett and Fain crook their fingers, calling us back to them. My heart jumps from the heat in Barrett’s eyes.
I feel silly for the giddy, shy bubble forming in my belly, but when I look at Paisley, she has a similar bashful expression.
Fools, both of us. Happy fools.
“So, Rafe has a club too?”
“A bar. Hannah works there. The first time I met her, she got me in trouble.”
“Trouble? Trouble how?” We pause half-way up the stairs.
“Short version? She helped me eaves drop on a conversation and I ended up bent over a table while Fain spanked me in front of Barrett and Rafe and then he put me in the corner while they finished their conversation.”
“In front of?” It’s the only thing registering from her story.
“He did it in front of them?” Would Barrett ever do that?
Would I let him? The better question is would I have a choice?
Not because he would force me to do something I’m uncomfortable with, but because my body will always bend to his will.
“In front of them.” She nips the inside of her cheek. “It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.”
Meaning she enjoyed it.
We reach the top where Barrett and Fain are waiting.
Barrett grips my chin. “I’ve had enough of others looking at what’s mine.” His voice is tight, and I have the fear that he might snap.
Fain already has a hold of the back of Paisley’s neck and is leading her back to the private room.
When we reach the door, Paisley is curled up in Fain’s lap with her head tucked under his chin.
It’s a soft and intimate moment until I realize the grip he still has on the back of her neck, holding her in place while his other hand strokes up and down her thigh and dipping under the hem of her dress. And I know exactly where that hem ends.
Barrett stops me inside as he retakes his seat. Rafe is standing near the door, leaving the space around the small table free.
Barrett points to the floor, raising his brow. I blink. He doesn’t mean for me to do that here? It’s as if he heard every part of our conversation.
“I’m feeling possessive, pet. Do as you’re told.” I’ve only heard this darkness from him a few times. This isn’t a time to push him or ask questions. Yet …
“You didn’t tell me to do anything.” Instantly, I close my eyes, cursing my tongue for its sarcasm.
His eyes narrow. “Crawl to me.”
I let his words pry their way inside and I sink to my knees, crossing the short distance on all fours and looking up at him from between his legs.
Barrett fists my hair and forces my face closer to his.
“Talk back like that again, and I’ll gag you.
” He doesn’t let go of my hair, but he uses his hold to settle my cheek against his thigh.
Then slowly, he slides his fingers through the strands, continuing the motions until I hum with pleasure, while the three of them pick up in the middle of a conversation.
As soon as I hear the names Morrison and Campbell, I zone out and focus on Barrett’s fingers running through my hair.
The last thing I want to allow into the bubble this night has created is how I’m about to lose my job tomorrow. And why.