Nailed Page 4

  Really? Miss Stick-up-her-ass?

  She pushed her way past him, leaving him to stare after her.

  “Hey,” he called. “Jen?”

  The woman paused for a nanosecond then kept on walking. Okay. Maybe he was wrong and it wasn’t her. Could this building be filled with women who looked like that? If that was so, how come he’d never seen them before? He had, after all, a reputation as someone who appreciated the female flesh. Even now, his eyes fastened on the slight sway of the woman’s ass, more tantalizing because she tried to camouflage it with her outfit.

  As fast as she was walking, she disappeared quickly down the row of cars. There was something about that ass… Tyler shook his head. He was obviously imagining things. But he instantly thought of Flame, naked and bent over the padded bench as he fucked her from behind. At once his cock hardened and a tingle raced through his balls.

  Maybe instead of beer and bed, he’d drop in at Finesse. Work off some of this excess testosterone suddenly surging through his system. Maybe tonight Flame would be there. Daks had told him she only played on the weekends but there was always a chance she might change her schedule. If she was there, maybe he could cajole Marco into squeezing him into her schedule.

  Just maybe.

  Chapter Four

  Jenyfer Mayhew sat in Marco’s office wondering why she was so nervous and hoping it didn’t show. The dungeon master watched her with curiosity but said little, taking his cue from her. He was well aware she was breaking her rule coming here on a weeknight. She had good reason for those rules. If she played hard on Friday and Saturday nights, she had Sunday to recuperate before work on Monday. And Marco always set limits for her Doms before each scene. She didn’t have to worry about sitting on a very sore ass at work or dealing with any other residual effects.

  So why was she here on a weeknight? Because seeing Tyler McMann had thrown her off her game. A lot. Having a last name to go with the first somehow personalized him to her and that was definitely not good. Outside the confines of Finesse she never mixed her two personalities.She was afraid she was about to cross her invisible line in the sand.

  She was still dressed in the slacks and a sweater she’d worn from home. She didn’t become Flame until she changed into her signature outfit and donned her club persona. Coming here tonight was probably a mistake but after nearly being knocked over by Tyler McMann in the parking garage, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind. Marco had been curious when she called to ask if she could come in the back entrance but he seldom refused her anything. Not when she was one of his star attractions.

  He said he was going to call Marco. I should just have waited. Now he’ll think I’m going out of my way to be with him.

  And that might give him power she didn’t want him to have. Jen wanted to bang her head on the desk. How stupid she was. Had she learned nothing from the disaster she’d barely extricated herself from?

  “If you’re as worried about it as you look, you should just go home and forget about tonight,” Marco told her. He poured a glass of water and handed it to her across the desk. “You’ve worked very hard to keep Flame a separate entity. Why endanger it now?”

  Because there is something about this man that makes me want to break all my rules. That makes me feel more than simple desire for him.

  She sipped the water slowly, trying to formulate her words. She knew Marco was right. She was taking a big chance here. But it seemed she couldn’t help herself.

  “He interests me,” she said at last. “And I like to think that after all this time I still have control over myself when I need it.”

  Marco studied her, a concerned look on his face. He was the only one who knew the story of her heartbreak and disaster and was a very good friend.

  “I hope you’re right,” he told her. “But there’s no guarantee he’ll show up tonight. You know that. And this isn’t even one of your regular nights.”

  She nodded. “I know. I just took a chance. If he doesn’t show I’ll just leave by the back door and no one will be the wiser. What about my room?”

  “I made sure it’s available.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m curious. Why didn’t you just have me call him as he requested and schedule him in?”

  Jenyfer shrugged. “I think I’d feel better about it if it happened spontaneously.”

  One corner of Marco’s mouth tilted in a half smile. “Might you be looking for something more here than just a different partner?”

  Was she? No. She wouldn’t let herself think in that direction. She shook her head.

  “I just find him…interesting.”

  The phone buzzed on Marco’s desk and he picked up the receiver.

  “Yes? Fine. Very good. Thanks.” He replaced the receiver and looked at Jen. “That was Daks. Tyler’s here and scanning the crowd. Either he’s hoping you decided to show up on a weeknight or he’s in need of some heavy sexual release.”

  Jen’s stomach flip-flopped. “Well, then. I guess I’d better get dressed.”

  Marco stood as she picked up her purse and headed for the office door. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I’ll probably need it.”

  She tried to stop her hands from shaking as she changed clothes in the women’s dressing room. As she pulled on the tall boots and laced the bustier, her anxiety faded. By the time she’d brushed out her long mane of hair, rouged her lips and fastened the mask in place, Jenyfer Mayhew had disappeared and Flame had taken her place.

  One last look in the mirror and she was ready. Striding confidently down the hall to the lounge, she scanned the people sitting in pairs or groups. Some of those she knew nodded then went back to their own activities.

  She spotted Tyler at the bar where she’d first seen him. Tonight he was dressed all in black—long-sleeved shirt and slacks—that accented his golden masculine beauty. He turned his head and his gaze locked with hers. He lifted his coffee mug in the gesture of a toast and his powerful muscles rippled beneath his shirt. Flame ran her tongue seductively across her lower lip, never taking her eyes from him. She waited to see what he would do.

  He took his time, setting his mug on the bar and moving slowly across the lounge to her. She forced herself to stand still, waiting for him. As he got nearer, she lowered her head, her silent signal of submission. Now it was up to him.

  He didn’t stand next to her as much as he invaded her space, his wonderful male scent reminding her of forests and lakes. She was sure she could breathe in his essence forever.

  A lean finger touched her chin and tilted up her head. Dark brown eyes highlighted with gold flecks looked into hers.

  “You have the club collar on. Does that mean you’re available tonight? Or as Daks told me, is it just a hands-off symbol except to those Doms on your schedule?”

  How should she answer him? Her dominant and submissive sides warred within her. She wanted him to take her and do whatever he wished with her. At the same time she no longer gave complete control to any man, even during playtime. Perhaps that was one reason she was so in demand. Each Dom wanted to be the one to break through that thin wall. But she had to keep at least some tenuous hold on this particular situation. Establish some ground rules. If he didn’t like them…

  “Maybe I wanted to choose someone new tonight.” She said it with just a touch of impertinence.

  “So you have an open schedule?” he asked. His fingers still held her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Awareness flared in his eyes, as if he knew she was playing some kind of game. “I was told you never come to Finesse during the week.”

  God! The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers ricocheting through her.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Then why are you here tonight?” When she said nothing he cupped her chin with all his fingers, tightening them a fraction. “A good sub knows enough to answer all questions. Truthfully. Now. Why are you here tonight?” Heat flared in his eyes. “Is it because you hoped I’d be here?”

&nbs
p; “Yes, Master.”

  His smile was filled with satisfaction. “Good. Then I’m glad I’m here. Do I need to let Marco know you’re taken for the evening?”

  A tiny thrill skated through her. “Am I?”

  “Damn straight.”

  She let out a breath. “Then I’ll inform Marco.”

  His hand slid to her wrist, his fingers closing around it. “We’ll tell him together. If any other Dom thinks he can have you after me he’s very much mistaken.”

  He led her to where the dungeon master was leaning against a wall, a half-smile playing on his lips. He had a slim key card between two fingers. As they approached he held it out to her.

  “I’ll take it.” Tyler plucked it from his hand.

  Marco looked at Flame, arching one eyebrow.

  She nodded, afraid if she spoke again she’d betray both her nervousness and eagerness. It had been a long time since she really wanted a man the way she wanted Tyler McMann. There was a lot more than sexual desire bubbling up inside her. Past history warned her not to go down this road again but she seemed unable to help herself. Her body had locked away her brain.

  Tyler led her down the hall, his fingers still clamped around her wrist. At the door to her room he slid the card into the lock, pushed the door open and led her inside.

  This was all so different to her. Even in her preferred role as a sub, she usually waited in the room for the Dom to enter, prepared to follow his instructions. Setting it up that way, she still maintained a semblance of control. Tyler had taken that away from her and rather than making her anxious she was filled with anticipation.

  After closing the door, Tyler led her to the middle of the room and dropped her hand. He took a step back and folded his arms across his chest.

  “I want the bustier off. Now. And slowly.”

  She unfastened the laces one at a time, her movements deliberately teasing.

  Don’t tempt the tiger.

  But something inside her made her provocative. Playful. And from the look in Tyler’s eyes he was far from angry.

  When the laces were completely undone she slid the garment slowly to the side and dropped it on the floor next to her. Then stood awaiting his next command.

  “You are so hot wearing nothing but those boots and that damn mask.” Desire gave his voice a husky quality. “Spread your legs.”

  She moved her feet as far apart as she could and still keep her balance. Tyler moved close to her and slid a finger between the lips of her pussy. Flame sucked in a breath. Just his touch seemed to set her on fire. When he pinched and tugged her clit, she had a hard time maintaining her balance.

  “You’re already wet for me.” He smiled with satisfaction. “That’s good. I like my subs good and slick.” He gave her clit one last pinch and stepped back. “But I sense a little impertinence in you tonight. Before we begin I think a little punishment is in order.”

  The pulse in her cunt throbbed harder and her breath caught in her throat. Would he choose the crop again? The paddle? The cane? Maybe two different implements? She watched him study the various items racked against one wall then turn back to look at her. A flutter set up in her tummy when he selected a very thin cane, a triple leather slapper—three wide strips of leather held together with a wrapped handle—and a bloodwood ruler. Three instruments? Truly? Lust surged through her and sent a fresh spate of cream into her pussy.

  He placed all three items on a small table and carried it over to where she was standing.

  “Let’s up the ante a little tonight, shall we?” The smile he gave her was positively wolfish with hunger. Testosterone fairly oozed from his body. “What do you think?”

  “Yes, Master. I would like that.”

  His gaze raked her body then settled on her face. “Warning. No matter how this arouses you, do not under any circumstances come without my command. Understood?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.” He looked around the room as if searching for something, spied a heavily padded ottoman against one wall and dragged it over.

  “On your knees,” he ordered. “Bend over so your upper body and your head are resting on this.”

  When she was kneeling and braced on the ottoman he adjusted her body to his satisfaction. She watched him move away and open a drawer in the big chest, remove some items and then he was back beside her.

  “One of the things I enjoy the most is the heightening of senses. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, Master. I do.” She grinned, knowing he could see her.

  In return he pinched each cheek of her ass.

  “Wench,” he growled. “You must be begging for your punishment. Let’s see how you like it in the dark.”

  In the dark? Oh god. How did he know she loved it that way, when she could see nothing and the most prevalent sense was that of touch? She was afraid she’d come just from his preparations.

  I should have talked to him more. Explained myself. Let him know what an aphrodisiac pain is for me. Let him know…

  What if…?

  No. Stop it. He’s different.

  She drew in a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly.

  Seconds later a soft band of silk covered her eyes, the ends tied behind her head. The binding pressed the mask into her face but she welcomed the tiny bite of pain. Next her hands were tugged behind her back and soft cuffs clamped around them. Finally her legs were pushed apart and what she knew was a spreader manacled to each ankle. She lay there without sight, helpless, her legs far apart, Tyler behind her. Which instrument would he use first? The anticipation grew feverishly.

  He ran his hand over the curve of her buttocks, the callouses on his warm palm slightly abrading her skin. She remembered from what she’d read on the Internet that he was the brother who handled all of the construction. Obviously he did more than supervise.

  “I like a little spice in my sauce.” His voice rolled over her like warm molasses. “But I think we need to make sure we both know who’s in charge here.”

  Flame had learned early on that spanking was a sensation heightener. And that it established right from the start who was in charge. Wielding the instrument was like wielding a sword and whoever held the sword held the power. She just had to keep reminding herself to limit that power without appearing to.

  Without warning, he removed his hand and instantly she felt the smack of the leather slapper, along with the first release of endorphins. Heat burned through her at once, warming her ass and the lips of her cunt. She jerked slightly then did her best to hold still. The triple straps intensified the sting and sent it vibrating everywhere. The next slap descended and another one. He alternated between her buttocks and the backs of her thighs, even placing a light tap on her fully exposed cunt. She was overcome with an urge to squeeze her legs together, an impossibility with the spreader. When she tried to rub herself against the rough fabric of the ottoman another blow descended, this one the sharpest of all.

  “No cheating. If I wanted you to pleasure yourself I’d order you to do it. Remember that. Perhaps we need to step this up more quickly.”

  In the darkness behind the blindfold, tears had already soaked through the silk, but they were tears of pleasure as much as pain. Perhaps even more so. Fresh ones rained down her cheeks when she felt the sharp bite of the ruler. Ouch! She tried to move her body from side to side but she had no balance, immobilized as she was. The ruler stung far more than the leather but once the first blow had landed her endorphins kicked in. Lust flooded her, her entire body in the grip of an erotic fist.

  Flame was impatient for the next strike of the ruler, flinching when it fell yet at the same time so aroused it was taking every bit of her self-control to hold herself together. Her ass and thighs were already flaming. The ruler only increased both the heat and pain level. Even as she cried out and more tears saturated the silk band, her body begged for more. The harder she tried to squeeze her thighs together the more frustrating it became that she was spread so wide.

 
; How easily she fell into that erotic cloud with a Dom who really knew what he was doing. Not that the ones she usually played with weren’t expert, but Tyler seemed to have…what? That extra ability with the instruments of pain? To enjoy it as much as she did, not just because he had the control? With so many others she detached herself from the scene. Not a trip to subspace but a removal of self as if it was happening to someone else. She embraced the sexual pleasure but something was always missing.

  Don’t go there. Do not take that trip again.

  Her conversation with herself faded to smoke as Tyler continued to wield the ruler with expertise. Then the slaps with the ruler ceased and Flame sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing. She waited tensely for the cane, the most painful of all the instruments, but one that she craved. By now, sensation had so consumed her body that she wanted to beg Tyler to hurry.

  She heard him moving behind her and she tensed for a moment, expecting the first bite of the instrument. Instead she was shocked to feel his calloused palm smoothing over her stinging ass and thighs. What shocked her even more was to feel his lips traveling the same path. They were followed by the smooth wetness of his tongue, traveling a path through the hot crevice between the globes of her burning ass and down through her very soaked slit.

  A sound of frustration burst from her throat as she tried without success to push herself onto his tongue. His laugh rumbled against her skin.

  “So hot and so wet.” His deep voice was tinged with satisfaction. “You’d love to have my tongue all the way up in your cunt, wouldn’t you? But not yet. We’re far from done here.”

  Before she could collect her thoughts, the first blow fell from the cane, followed in rapid succession by another and another. She lost count after a while, her body now consumed with pain in every area and her pussy throbbing so hard she felt it at every pulse point. Her cries echoed in her ears and more tears soaked the silk binding her eyes.

  As the stinging blows rained down on her and the pain increased, the pleasure rose and she slid into the welcoming grasp of subspace, the place she took herself to embrace the pain without rejecting it. She had a sense of flying, of being out of body, where the more intense the pain the more intense the pleasure. He could do whatever he wished as long as the erotic fog was wrapped around her. By the time Tyler was finished, every nerve in her body concentrated on fulfillment. On the climax she needed with such desperation.