Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
“Masque,” he said, once Frannie was gone. He was trying to act casual, though the idea of having Abby with him in the club turned him on more than he liked to admit. “Do you even know what that is?”
“Sure,” she said.
He narrowed his eyes. “Really?”
“Okay, I have a general sense. Damien took Nikki there once. After three drinks she gave me the scoop.”
“Interesting.”
She bit her lower lip. “I probably shouldn’t have spilled that about your boss.”
He laughed. “That’s okay. I have a feeling Damien Stark can handle people knowing that he went to a sex club with his wife.”
“You’ve been there,” she said, and he thought he heard an accusation in her voice.
“I have.”
He watched her throat move when she swallowed, wishing he could read her mind. He wanted her back there. Not for the hardcore stuff—that didn’t seem like Abby, though he wouldn’t turn down the chance to find out. No, he had a very specific fantasy.
He wanted her on one of the sofas in the main room. He wanted to open his fly and settle her on his lap. He wanted her skirt splayed out over them as she rose and fell, fucking him while anyone in the room who wanted to watched.
He wanted it because he wanted her. Wanted to claim her. To own her. Maybe not forever— definitely not forever —but for now. For tonight. For this weekend.
Maybe forever…
He pushed aside the voice in his head. That voice that told him that would be a good thing. That he deserved that good thing. And that Abby did, too.
Instead, he pulled her to a stop at the top of the stairs, just before the entrance to the club. He made the mistake of looking down, then closed his eyes in defense against that damn spinning.
“Do you ever plan on telling me?”
“What?”
“Vertigo. Was it a head injury? Is that why you left the SEALs?”
He drew a breath but looked at her. “Yes.”
He could see that she was waiting for more, but what more was there? He’d told her. That should be enough. He didn’t need to lay it on the ground for her; he’d already revealed that he wasn’t the man he’d held himself out to be.
But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she just took his hand and led him to the far side of the landing so they were away from the view. The world realigned, and his pulse slowed.
They were standing in front of the door to Masque, but that wasn’t the elephant in the room.
“I’m not your dad,” she finally said, lifting her shoulder.
He started to ask what she meant; started to pretend to misunderstand. But he did understand. She’d seen through to the core of him, just like she used to when they were kids. And she was telling him that she didn’t care about his flaws. That unlike his father, she wouldn’t give up on him.
He drew a breath, surprised that her quick understanding didn’t make him feel vulnerable. But it didn’t. It made him feel loved.
He met her eyes, then shrugged. “I guess that’s a good thing. My dad would look terrible in that dress.”
Her smile lit her eyes. “Yeah. He really would.”
He cocked his head toward the door. “Are you sure? We don’t have to. There’s no reason on earth you need to feel like you have to one-up Francesca.”
“It’s not about that,” she said.
His brows rose.
“No, really. It’s not.”
“Then what?”
She lifted a shoulder, looking embarrassed. “I want to know what other women have had with you. Not Francesca particularly. But I want what they’ve had. You don’t want a relationship, well fine. But then I think it’s fair that I get to know what it’s like to be with the guy who fucks around.”
Her words weren’t said with a harsh tone, but he still heard it in his head. Because Abby wasn’t part of that group. She was different. Special.
He almost told her so. Almost said they’d blow Masque off altogether.
Except he didn’t. Because he wanted her there.
Mostly, he realized, he just wanted her .
“All right,” he said, then led her to the door and showed his key. The door opened, and they were admitted to the party within the party.
He watched her face, taking in the couples talking, kissing, fucking. The main room was active tonight, and he knew the dungeon rooms would be even more so.
“What you expected?”
“I didn’t know what to expect. Are we staying in here? Is there more?”
“We’re staying,” he said, noting how prominent her nipples were and the flush on her lips and cheeks. She was turned on. Good . Because he wanted her—and soon—but he didn’t want to stay if she was uncomfortable.
Abby, however, seemed fine. A little awed, but fine. So he took her hand and led her to a nearby sofa, just as he had in his fantasy.
“Here,” he said.
“Here? Here, what, exactly?”
“I guess we’ll see,” he said, unfastening his slacks and freeing his cock before he sat. “But why don’t we start with you riding me?”
Her eyes were wide but excited, and he felt himself go harder knowing that this was really happening.
“Has she done that?”
He tilted his head, wondering about the jealousy. Liking it more than he should. “She has.”
Abby’s eyes narrowed. “Her skirt pulled up as she worked herself on you, everything nice and hidden by the flair of the material, but the whole room knowing exactly what you were doing?”
“Exactly.”
“But they couldn’t know for sure. It could be a ploy. She could have just been rubbing herself on you.”
“True.” He had no idea where she was going with this.
“That’s not for me,” she said, and he felt the disappointment cut through him like a knife. “If I’m claiming you—if I’m being claimed—I want everyone to know.”
She looked around, at the same time reaching her hand back and unzipping her dress. He practically swallowed his tongue when she let the dress fall to the ground, and his cock got ten times harder when he looked at her, completely naked except for her shoes, a garter belt, and silk stockings.
Around them, most everyone had turned to watch, and he saw more than one guy’s hand go to his own cock, stroking as he eyed Renly’s girl.
He made a low noise in his throat. Not a growl, but pretty damn close.
She didn’t look around at all. Instead, with her chin high, she came to him, not saying a single word. Then she took his hand and placed it between her thighs, arching back as he stroked her slick pussy.
She continued, her eyes never leaving his as she climbed onto the sofa, put both hands on his shoulders, and straddled him. He was rock hard. Painfully hard. And as she squirmed over the tip of his cock it was a wonder he didn’t lose it right then.
But then—oh, God, then—she took his cock all the way, started to rock…and proceeded to completely blow his fucking mind.