Savior (An Impossible Novel) Page 12

  Selfishly, I tried to push him from my mind. He would need me again when he quit the drugs, but right now my presence in his life only seemed to make him more crazed. And that was Clayton’s fault as well. Greg felt like I had betrayed him by taking up a relationship with the FBI agent who was going to force him to get clean.

  But no, it wasn’t Clayton’s fault. It was my fault for giving in to his advances.

  Tonight I found myself callously surrendering to my lusts once again. Smith had suggested that Clayton try out a BDSM club, and to my surprise, he had been game for it. It was one thing to engage in kinky acts in the privacy of his friend’s apartment, but another thing entirely to step out in public.

  He was examining our surroundings with open curiosity as we stepped into Decadence, my favorite BDSM club. Smith had said he hadn’t been there in a while, but I had requested that we come here. The rules had gotten a little looser at Decadence in the last few months; I knew I would be able to throw back a few shots if I needed them in order to calm my nerves. Most clubs had a three drink maximum, and they didn’t serve shots.

  Clayton looked powerful and sexy in his usual sharp black suit. Smith’s leather pants and tight black t-shirt were a little more on the fetish-wear side, and he wore his customary mask. He had told me that because he worked for the government, he had felt the need to conceal his identity. Clayton asked if he should do the same, but Smith just laughed, saying it was no longer necessary.

  “Women read Fifty Shades of Grey on the subway these days. Kink is ‘in,’ and the negative social stigma is fading. I just keep this up because everyone knows me as ‘Master S’ now. And I rather like my reputation.” The man was cocky, but I couldn’t deny that he had earned the right to be that way.

  “Rose!” The man’s pleased voice called me back to the present. “It’s great to see you again.”

  I grinned at Derek, the sexy owner of Decadence. His reputation as a skilled Dominant rivaled Smith’s, but he rarely played with submissives these days. Not that it would have been difficult for him to ensnare one. The guy was a former Marine, and he had stayed fit since his term of service had ended five years ago. His method of barking orders militarily had brought dozens of subs oh-so-willingly to their knees. Plus, the man was hot. His light brown hair was always mussed in a rough-and-tumble way that made him look like he had just enjoyed a good fuck, and his caramel-colored eyes often sparked with a playful light that put his customers at ease.

  “It’s good to see you too,” I replied truthfully as I hugged him with easy familiarity.

  “Master S,” he nodded respectfully at Smith. “I haven’t seen you in a while. It’s good to have you back.”

  Smith’s expression was difficult to read with half of his face hidden, but he seemed genial enough. “Always a pleasure, Derek.”

  I turned to Clayton. “This is Derek Carter. He owns Decadence,” I introduced. “Derek, this is my friend Clayton.”

  Derek smiled warmly and shook Clayton’s hand. “Any friend of Rose’s is more than welcome here. Thanks for coming. Here, have a drink on the house.” He waved down a bartender, and I ordered a double rum and coke. Clayton gave me a disapproving look, but he didn’t say anything. He and Smith ordered non-alcoholic beverages. I knew Smith didn’t believe in drinking and playing; he said it was irresponsible and clouded a Dom’s senses. But he hadn’t said anything about submissives not being allowed to drink, so I chose to ignore his censorious look.

  “Would you like for me to show you around?” Derek asked, ever the gracious host.

  Clayton returned his smile, but he declined. “I think Rose knows her way around.”

  Derek laughed. “That’s true. Just let me know if you have any questions.”

  “Talk to you later, Derek,” I promised as Clayton led me away.

  “You had better!” He called after me.

  I had always liked Derek, but I had never done anything sexual with him. I didn’t want to make a mess of things so that I couldn’t come back to my favorite club. Even I wasn’t that reckless. Maybe that was why I hadn’t seen Derek play with anyone for a while. He might be playing it safe for the sake of his business.

  Smith led the way from the bar to the main dungeon. It was well-equipped, with several different apparatuses for bondage so a Dom could put his sub on display. Some found the humiliating experience arousing. And I had to admit that I was one of them.

  Clayton seemed interested too. He paused near the St. Andrew’s Cross, watching a Dom flog his sub. She was covered in red stripes from her shoulders to her thighs, but she moaned pleasurably as the wicked implement thudded against her skin in rapid, figure-of-eight strokes.

  My sex pulsed at the sight, and I couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to have Clayton do that to me. His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me tightly against his body as he bent to whisper in my ear. “See something you like?” He asked.

  I drew in a shuddering breath. “Yes,” I admitted quietly, my voice tinged with longing. I craved to feel the touch of his skin against mine as he held me, but my burgundy corset was a thick barrier between us. He seemed to feel the same need, because his hand slipped beneath my tight leather skirt to roughly grab my ass. The feeling of his fingers digging into the fading bruises inflicted by his belt made me wet, and I pushed back into his hold.

  “I think another demonstration from Smith might be in order.” As he spoke, his warm breath fanned across my neck, and I shivered in delight.

  Smith grinned at me. “I heard that. And I would be more than happy to oblige.” He looked at Clayton questioningly. “Are you up for it now?”

  Clayton considered for a moment, but then he shook his head. “I think I’d like to have her to myself tonight.” He squeezed my ass harder, and I yelped at the zing of pain.

  “I understand. We’ll arrange another time,” Smith replied easily. “I’ll show you the private rooms, if you’d be interested in that?”

  “Definitely.”

  Clayton maintained his grip on me as he guided me along in Smith’s wake. But as we neared the private rooms, my nervousness came creeping back. Going into that room with Clayton would be tantamount to a public declaration that I was his sub; I never played in the private rooms. And I wasn’t ready for that. As much as I relished the sexual dynamic I shared with Clayton, accepting him as my Dom would be a big step. Too big. It was a commitment I wasn’t ready to make.

  But the insistent throbbing between my legs told me I wanted him so badly…

  I needed a moment to myself in order to sort out my tangled thoughts. And I needed some liquid courage if I was going to see this through.

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “Um, I need the restroom,” I told Clayton.

  He released me instantly. “Okay,” he agreed. He planted a swift, sweet kiss on my lips. “Hurry back.”

  I nodded, desperate to get away.

  “You should use Room 3,” Smith advised. “I think it’ll best suit your needs.”

  “I’ll meet you there,” I promised Clayton quickly. It took effort to walk away casually so as not to betray my anxiety.

  Peeking over my shoulder to make sure they weren’t watching me, I changed my course and headed for the bar.

  “A double shot of Cuervo and another rum and coke, please,” I requested. The bartender poured without question, but I was glad Derek wasn’t around to see me. Even though the rules were more lax lately, I had a feeling he might have something to say about me getting plastered in his club. I grimaced slightly as the tequila burned its way down my throat, but the harsh bite was comforting in its own way. I needed it to relax.

  Grabbing up my rum and coke, I headed for the bathroom. If I chugged it in front of the bartender, he might be less willing to look the other way. I was thin, so most people assumed I couldn’t handle my liquor. But I had been drinking like a fish for years, so I knew I would be able to hold it together.

  As soon as I had reached my refuge, I tipped the pla
stic cup back and poured the sweet drink down my throat with practiced ease. Just as I was polishing it off, a woman emerged from one of the stalls. I was relieved to realize she was someone I knew. We weren’t anything more than acquaintances, but I had seen Gemma at Decadence before with her Dom, Garrett. I had also seen her trip her way tipsily across the dungeon. She wasn’t going to judge me for my drinking.

  “Hi,” she said brightly. “It’s Rose, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I replied, trying to summon up a smile and failing miserably. I was practically shaking with nerves now. The alcohol just wasn’t doing the trick.

  She looked at me sympathetically. “Man trouble?” She asked. “Who’s the big bad Dom?”

  “He’s not bad,” I admitted, the alcohol loosening my tongue. “He’s too damn good. That’s the problem.”

  She nodded in understanding. “Those are always the scariest ones. But they’re also the most fun if you can get past the fear.”

  I sighed miserably. “I know.” Clayton had ensnared me with sexual ecstasy; his erotic pull bound me to him more cruelly than any chains ever could.

  Gemma gave me a little conspiratorial smile as she reached into the top of her corset. “I think I have just what you need, honey,” she said, pinching a little plastic bag between her thumb and forefinger as she held it up for me to see. It was filled with a white powder that I wasn’t unfamiliar with. “You want to do a line? I promise it’ll make you feel better. It’s good shit.”

  Oh, I knew it would make me feel better. It would make me feel like I was on top of the world. I didn’t do coke often, but the few times I had experienced the high had been incredible. It had made me feel powerful, like I could do anything. And sex had felt amazing.

  I bit my lip, unsure. If Clayton realized that I was high, he would be pissed as hell. But on the other hand… I remembered how incredible I had felt when he had spanked me for my reckless behavior. Even if he did figure out that I had used, it would only result in something decidedly delectable. And I wanted release. I wanted release from my anxiety and the release that I would achieve when Clayton punished me.

  I knew this was exactly the kind of self-destructive behavior that Clayton was trying to put an end to, but I couldn’t resist the tempting outcome. Besides, I could get serious about being a better person once Greg went through rehab. Having convinced myself that I had formulated a reasonable plan of action, I held out my hand to accept the drug.

  “Thanks.” This time, my smile was genuine. I put down a paper towel over the counter and tipped out a line onto it. One should be just enough to give me the buzz I wanted without getting me completely fucked up.

  Almost as soon as I inhaled the cocaine, the high hit me. I closed my eyes in bliss as the intoxicating sensation coursed through me. My confidence spiked; I felt like I could do anything. Facing Clayton suddenly didn’t seem at all intimidating. I was eager for him to touch me. All of my qualms about taking the drug disappeared. This was the best decision I had made in a long time.

  “God, that’s good,” I practically groaned. I looked at Gemma questioningly. “Do you want to do a line?”

  She beamed as she shook her head. “Already did some.” She stroked her hand down my arm intimately. The contact felt delicious. “Could I tempt you away from your big bad Dom? I know Garrett would love to get to know you better.”

  I knew what she was asking, but as good as her touch felt, I didn’t want anyone other than Clayton. For a change, that thought didn’t bother me at all. I stepped away from Gemma. “Maybe some other time,” I hedged. “Thanks for the hit. I owe you one.”

  I thought I saw annoyance flit across her features, but a moment later I was sure I had imagined it. She was smiling at me sweetly. “I’ll be sure to hold you to that.”

  A distant part of me registered that her words should have made me uncomfortable, but I chose to ignore it. Clayton had been waiting for me for a while now. I almost hoped he was angry.

  Feeling more self-assured than I had in months, I boldly stepped into Room 3. Clayton had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie. His roguish smile made warmth pool between my legs.

  “I thought you had gotten lost,” he commented drily.

  “Sorry. I ran into a girlfriend in the bathroom and couldn’t get away.” It wasn’t a total lie.

  I approached Clayton confidently, swaying my hips seductively as I usually did when I was trying to lure in a man. His eyes widened slightly, surprised, but I didn’t give him a chance to ask questions. I straddled his lap where he sat on the edge of the wrought iron bed, twining my arms around the back of his neck as I hungrily took his lips with mine.

  The low, rumbling sound that issued from him was disapproving, and he quickly grabbed my waist, flipping me onto my back and trapping me under his weight. I moaned when his fingers encircled my wrists, pressing them into the mattress. I could feel the blood pumping through my veins as my heart fluttered at a thousand beats per minute. My skin was enflamed and alive, sparking with pleasure everywhere Clayton’s body touched mine. My head was spinning from the intensity of my bliss.

  As soon as he had me pinned, Clayton tore his mouth from mine. My vision blurred and I momentarily saw two Claytons hovering above me. I blinked hard until he coalesced back into one frowning Dom.

  “You haven’t acted like this since the night we first met. What’s wrong, Rose?”

  “Nothing,” I panted, squinting my eyes in an effort to keep him in focus. “Everything is perfect.” I jerked in his hold and tried to lean up into him so that I could claim his lips once again, but he pulled back further. His frown deepened as he studied me carefully.

  “Tell me what you’ve done, Rose,” he demanded.

  I knew I should feel fear in the wake of that look, but I just grinned widely. “Tequila shots. You like them too, remember?”

  His grip on my wrists tightened. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen you drunk before. This is something different. What did you do, Rose?”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Chill out, Clayton. It was just a little coke.”

  He pulled away from me instantly, his expression furious and a little repulsed. “Are you serious, Rose?!” He half-shouted. “What the fuck? You know what my job is. My whole life is about putting an end to drug abuse. And after seeing what your brother is going through, how could you possibly think taking cocaine isn’t a big deal?”

  His tight control over his anger was slipping for the first time, and my own fury rose to meet his as his words cut at me like a whip. He was killing my buzz. “It’s not a big deal, Clayton,” I informed him hotly. “People do it all the time. Smith told me you needed to loosen up. Stop being such a goddamn prude and learn to live a little.”

  Clayton stood, grabbing my arm and pulling me up with him. “We’ll discuss this later when you’re not being such a fucking idiot,” he snapped as he dragged me toward the door.

  But I dug in my heels, refusing to budge. “What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

  “I’m taking you home,” he informed me coldly.

  “No!” I said staunchly. No way was I leaving with him when he was being such a mean asshole. Adrenaline was coursing through me, and I wanted to continue riding my high. “I came here to have some fun, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  Looking disgusted, Clayton released me. “Is that really what I am to you? Just someone you use for fun? I thought this was something more than that. I thought I was helping you put a stop to that kind of behavior. But clearly I’m just enabling it.”

  His words pushed threateningly against my bubble of happiness, a dozen little pins that were going to make it burst. I folded my arms across my chest in a show of defiance, but the stance also made me feel more protected from him. “I want you to leave now, Clayton.”

  He glowered at me. “Yes,” he snapped. “I can see that. In fact, I’m beginning to see a lot of things clearly. You’ll have to find someone else to entertain you in the future. I�
�ll be keeping my distance from now on.”

  Clayton split into two again as he stormed from the room, and I collapsed back onto the bed as the world tilted around me. I shoved him from my mind and closed my eyes so I could more easily focus on the pleasurable tingles that were sparking over my skin. Besides, the way the room was spinning was making me feel a little sick. Blocking off my sense of sight would help to alleviate that. But it didn’t help much; the bed felt like it was rocking beneath me. I was getting a wicked case of the spins.

  Shit. I guess my alcohol tolerance isn’t as high as I thought.

  “Hey, honey. Are you okay?” Gemma’s voice floated down to me. I also registered the sound of the door closing and the lock clicking into place, but I couldn’t summon up any concern over what that meant.

  “I’m not sure,” I whispered. “I don’t think so.”

  I suddenly wished Clayton hadn’t left. He should be here to take care of me. But I had driven him away.

  My eyes snapped open when I felt a pair of rough hands grasp my arms and pull them over my head. I could hardly make out the man who was hovering above me, but his leer was clear enough. Something hard and cold closed around my wrists, and I heard the familiar sound of cuffs clicking into place. I tried to tug my hands free, and alarm shot through me as I realized how much effort it took to move my arms.

  “What are you doing?” My words were slurred as my heavy tongue refused to function normally. He lightly touched the upper swell of my breasts where they were pushed up by my corset, and I couldn’t hold back a pleasurable moan. My flesh had never felt so sensitive, so responsive.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said. “You’ll enjoy this.”

  My moan turned to a terrified whimper as fear finally penetrated my little bubble of happiness.

  Chapter 11

  A second pair of hands was touching me. They were smaller and softer, but they induced just as much terror as they slowly began to pull at my clothes, unsnapping the front of my corset and tugging my skirt and panties down my legs. I hated how the cool air on my exposed flesh made my skin dance.