Authors: Allyson Young
Chapter Eleven
Cameron picked up his drink from the bar and nodded his thanks to the bartender. The server pouted prettily in his direction, and he smiled at her. She had been otherwise occupied with a large party when he arrived, and he didn’t mind getting his own. He vaguely remembered having her for a few nights, and thought she had preferred the spanking bench. He hadn’t been to the Club Pleasure for nearly a year, and had finally agreed to accompany Trevor that evening. There were some new faces, mostly subs, he thought, but lots of old, familiar ones, too. While some bent speculative glances his way, most waved casually and Cameron felt relaxed and welcome.
“All work and no play, buddy! For sure you’re a dull boy.” Trevor clapped him on the shoulder and headed toward the soft dungeon.
They rarely went to the actual one. It was open on certain occasions only and was pretty hard-core. “Let’s see what’s happening! Maybe there’ll be a sweet lady who needs some stress relief.” Trevor had been his emotional bulwark during the past months.
He had accepted Cameron’s brief, terse explanation that he had fucked up with Olivia, forgotten that trust was paramount, and that it was over. Trevor hadn’t questioned him, had simply been present, and kept him busy with work. It still hurt terribly to think about Olivia and what he had lost, but Cameron was at least functioning. He didn’t much care if he got laid, but his dominant side had been asking for release, and he took that as a good sign. He tossed his drink back and followed his friend.
As they entered, Cameron’s breath hitched in his chest. A long, lithe female body hung from a hook in the ceiling, directly beneath a
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spotlight. She was naked except for a black domino that covered her face from forehead to upper lip and a pair of red stilettos that barely kept her in contact with the floor. The style of the mask gave her an otherworldly look. Her thick, midnight-black hair was swept up on top of her head so that her entire body was visible. Cameron’s cock leapt from parade rest to full attention and damn near saluted as he drank in the sight. Her small breasts lifted and swelled with each breath and the red nipples stood, pointed and hard, begging to be sucked. Her waxed folds did little to shield the little clit poking out at her apex, and her small heart-shaped ass arched toward the lash being wielded by one of the house Doms. Faint-pink welts marred the dusky ivory of her back, and her ass and thighs sported marks of deeper coral. Her moans indicated that she was in subspace, and Cameron longed to be the Dom to give her release. Jordan would probably grant him that wish, depending upon the agreement with the sub, but Cameron found that he couldn’t ask. Jordan tossed the single tail aside and walked to her, tenderly drifting his fingers down her back and over her ass, sliding them between her thighs. When he removed them, Cameron saw they were wet with her arousal. Jordan walked around and knelt before her and suckled at her sex. The woman climaxed almost immediately, and then again when Jordan pushed his fingers up inside her. Cameron fought a bizarre urge to punch the other man in the face. He realized it was because the sub reminded him of Olivia, except this woman was far too thin. The resemblance was strong, but that’s all that it was. He watched as Jordan carefully released the sub’s binds and then caught her up when she would have fallen. Her hair tumbled down her back in a cascade of silken curls, and he saw her full lips curve as she smiled, then turned her face into Jordan’s shoulder. Cameron’s heart missed a beat. He rushed the pair, reaching for the mask. Jordan pivoted and blocked him.
“What the fuck, man?” Jordan asked in amazement. “Stand down!”
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Cameron lost sight of her face, now hidden behind the other Dom’s bulk, and got himself under control. “Olivia!” he called.
Jordan bore his sated burden away to the aftercare room, but not before Cameron had seen her stiffen. Fucking hell. It
was
her.
Cameron was pulled back to both the night when Olivia had seen him for what he was and the night twelve long years later when he had found her again in Aspen Grove. But what was she doing here in Austin? What had happened to her? She was stick thin and fragile.
“Cam? Hey, buddy, what’s going on?” Trevor’s anxious voice pulled Cameron back to the present.
“That was Olivia, Trev. My Olivia. What the hell is she doing here?”
“That would be her business, Cameron. Welcome back.” A new voice entered their conversation.
Cameron stared at the Club owner. Patrick didn’t frequent the place much anymore. Cameron had heard that Patrick and his sub were expecting their second child and Madi was having some problems. Patrick was a dedicated husband and father, just as he might have become if he hadn’t screwed up so badly. He managed a smile.
“Thanks, Patrick.” Cameron didn’t know how much Patrick knew about his situation, but he certainly would be aware of Cameron’s hiatus at the Club. Patrick didn’t trade in rumors though. And he had thrown enough work Cameron’s way to indicate that their friendship endured. “I apologize for my outburst.” Patrick shrugged. “I seem to have an excess of friends who keep forgetting their training of late, Cameron. It makes me wonder if all of you were in a slow learners’ class when communication was emphasized or if the instructors were lacking. Come to my office.” Cameron trudged along behind Patrick. He felt like a schoolboy in trouble with the principal, summoned to stand before his desk, but he was going to do everything by the book from here on in. If he had
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done so a year ago, or even sought this man’s counsel, then he wouldn’t be such a fuck up.
“Who did you get to replace Graham?” he asked Patrick once they were ensconced in his nicely appointed office.
“Jonathon Spence. He moved here from New York. Well trained from what I’ve seen so far, but hey, Doms seem just as inclined to act like idiots as the other guy where some subs are concerned, so who knows?”
Cameron smiled ruefully. Patrick knew something. But that was okay. He was going to tell him everything, anyhow.
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, Patrick picked up the house phone and spoke quietly into it. He hung up and looked at Cameron with inscrutable eyes.
“She’s still here. She always books a room for the night rather than drive back home. She’s sensible that way. I have a great deal of admiration for that sub.”
“How long has she been coming here, Patrick?”
“I can’t say anymore, Cameron. I didn’t want you taking off and storming down the highway after her, so I told you she was here and safe, but I won’t breach her confidentiality and trust.” Cameron winced. “Okay, but will you take her a message for me?”
“That I can do. But if she doesn’t respond, you will not take any further steps. Are we agreed?”
“Agreed.” Cameron fumbled with pen and paper and awkwardly penned the most important missive of his life. Curious, how the words flowed yet were so paltry. Patrick took it and stood. He gestured for Cameron keep sitting and went out the door. Cameron dropped his head into his hands and resigned himself to a long wait. But he would wait for however long it took.
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* * * *
Olivia stared at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser in the member’s room she had rented for the night. Jordan had cared for her with his usual skilled tenderness before taking her to this room, but it was Cameron’s voice that intruded throughout the whole process. She had been coming to the Club for nearly six months now, seeking some kind of fulfillment in her life. She had retreated again after Cameron had blindsided her, ferreted out her secret. She had thrown herself into work, bullying Steve into completing much of the work at the golf course ahead of schedule, including the spa. Hiring and training staff occupied her, as did the decorating of her cold, sterile house. She fell into bed each night too exhausted to think. She had no interest in men and less in sex, but at times she craved the kind of release Cameron had visited upon her. She craved it until she couldn’t concentrate. So she had carefully searched out this Club and commenced with a different double life.
The interview process had astounded her. Not the medical piece but rather the intrusiveness that spoke to the psychological aspect of this lifestyle. It comforted her though, reassuring her that nothing would happen that she didn’t want or ask for, and she came to completely understand the power transfer. Master Patrick had been quick to recognize her need for anonymity, and it was he who had suggested the mask. Many subs apparently wore hoods, but Olivia didn’t need that kind of sensory deprivation. She simply didn’t want to be recognized while she had her needs met. She learned about boundaries and how sex and discipline didn’t have to go together. She decided that her hard boundaries would include no actual intercourse and no hardcore D/s, although she initially thought she wanted to be beaten bloody to distract her from her emotional pain. Instead, she accepted that reaching subspace and then release could free her and give her the strength to get through the weeks she spent working
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toward nothing at all. And the future loomed long and empty and bleak.
She had toured the Club for several nights before she felt comfortable in asking Master Jordan to discipline her, in one of the private rooms. He had treated her very well, each and every time, and, like Cameron, had known what she needed, at least physically. She would never connect with another man on an emotional level again.
What Master Jordan gave her was enough. It had to be enough. Her heart and soul were cinders, burned on the altar of hurt pride and betrayal.
Tonight had been her first night in the soft dungeon. Olivia didn’t want real, extreme pain. Not the pain of stripes or even wax. She hadn’t even been certain of the single tail but trusted Master Jordan.
Being naked and exposed in front of other people, while masked and anonymous, had at least titillated her and built her arousal long before Master Jordan secured her hands and stretched her up. She knew that her ribs could be counted, that her hipbones poked through her skin.
Her rounded thighs and ass had even melted away under the onslaught of long days of working, interrupted sleep and a lack of appetite. But still she had felt beautiful in her own skin.
The initial strokes had quickly turned into sensation, and Olivia had let go, trusted him, and the reward had been nearly as powerful as anything she had experienced with Cameron. Her skin had prickled with awareness when Master Jordan had gone down on her, and it had been like Cameron was there. As indeed he had been. Her postorgasmic bliss hadn’t impaired her hearing. She had heard him call out to her, had known his voice, and had telegraphed the ensuing panic that spooked the house Dom. He hadn’t questioned her, had taken even greater care of her, but she knew that things had changed.
Once again Cameron had robbed her of something. It had changed her relationship with Master Jordan, who was now giving off vibes that he wanted more from her. More than she could give, and so she was going to have to put an end to their connection or leave the Club. Why
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did Cameron continue to haunt her? A tap on the door drew her away from her soul searching.
“Olivia.” Master Patrick’s voice had her fumbling to open the door quickly. Like Cameron, he wasn’t to be questioned or denied.
He held a piece of paper out to her and she took it, albeit tentatively. She looked at him, and he shrugged. “May I come in?” She jumped back, flustered, and awkwardly smoothed the robe down. “Of course. Please.”
Patrick walked to the opposite wall and turned to lean on it. He folded his arms against his chest and waited. Olivia fingered the note and then unfolded it. There were only a few lines, but it was enough to make her breath shorten and her heart pound.
Olivia, I apologize. I
was an arrogant, stupid, selfish fool. Please give me another chance. I
love you. Cameron
She sank down on the bed and covered her face with both hands, crumpling the note as she did so. She tried to cry silently but the sobs increased in volume until they overwhelmed the pounding of her heart. When she couldn’t cry any longer, Patrick’s bulk compressed the mattress beside her, and she accepted the wad of tissues he pressed into her hand. He put his arm around her and stroked her upper arm.
“I can’t, Master Patrick. I can’t trust him. It’s such a mess.” Patrick’s deep voice grounded her, helped her focus. “He didn’t give you much reason to trust him from what I understand, Olivia.
Cameron hasn’t had a real relationship since I met him, and now I see why. He has always wanted you, my dear. I can only imagine what it meant to him to find you again. Not that it excuses his blind, selfish intent to pursue and possess you with no regard for the process.
Although I can empathize somewhat.”
Olivia mopped her face and blew her nose as she considered Patrick’s words. They rang true, but she was still angry and hurt. “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered.
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“I have a proposition for you, Olivia,” Patrick replied. “Hear me out if you would. You don’t have to make a hasty decision. Cameron doesn’t deserve much kindness and can wait. I will confess that I have had my fill of outlaw Doms as it were, Doms who have stepped outside of their role and disrespected their training because they fell ass over face in love with someone. I’m going to offer a remedial class and suggest that Cameron come for a refresher. He will, of course, require a sub…”
Olivia felt a drift of hysterical laughter welling up and fought it.
More insanity. What had happened to the world of Andrew Foster’s wife? His widow? “I need to think about it.” Patrick nodded. “Take all the time you like, sub. If you decide to participate, then I will expect you to relocate for the duration, perhaps two to three weeks. I don’t imagine that will be a problem, considering your status?”
“May I tell you in the morning?”
A shadow passed over Patrick’s face. “I won’t be here, Olivia.
I’ve been gone long enough from my wife as it is. But tell Master Jordan. I’ll alert him, and if you agree, he will place you in a larger room. You won’t need anything that the Club can’t provide. But Olivia? If you choose not to participate, then you may feel free to continue your exploration of the lifestyle here, in my Club. Master Jordan has a special feeling for you, and I won’t deny you this.
Cameron will be denied access.”
Olivia was overwhelmed. “I so appreciate this, Master Patrick. I hope your wife will be okay.” It sounded flimsy and hollow, and she couldn’t make herself share the fact that she would have to leave the Club, but it was the best she could do.
Patrick nodded to her and made his way to the door. He gave her one final glance and let himself out. Olivia slipped beneath the covers and prepared for a long night of thinking. She fell dead asleep instead.