Unraveled (Undone) (5 page)

Filling me up. Making me whole.

The orgasm barrels down on me and I gasp his name in a pleading question. “Michael?”

He growls, and impossibly increases his pace. “Yes, Layla.”

I explode around him. Pleasure mixes with pain, creating a kaleidoscope of sensation that crests through my body in pummeling waves, making me mindless and incoherent.

He follows me, spilling inside me over and over again until we’re both breathless. Normally he’d collapse on top of me, but he doesn’t, conscious of the marks on my skin. Besides, we have guests waiting for us to come back so we can go on what is sure to be a strange adventure.

He pulls out and helps me to my feet, my knees still wobbly.

My dress falls effortlessly back in place. After he’s zipped up, he twines his hand around my neck. “Better?”

“Yes.”

He kisses me, soft and sure. “I love you, Layla.”

“I love you too.” More than he can possibly know, possibly understand. I rise to my tiptoes, twining my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He licks my pounding pulse. “You’ll be okay, sugar.”

“I know.” I squeeze him one more time before I let him go.

He leads me back into the living room, hand clasped with mine.

When we get there, Jillian, winces at me. “You okay?”

“I’m great.” A smile graces my lips, wide and open. Because, I am.

Leo laughs. “All sorted out, girl?”

I wrinkle my nose at him. “Are we ready to go?”

Jillian winks. “We were waiting on you guys.”

“Well, I’m ready.”

I turn to Ruby, who’s standing next to Chad. They look odd together—my rocker, Snow White best friend and Chad, who is about as clean cut as can be. She seems to have no clue that Chad is also dominant, and I’ve thought about clueing her in, but Michael insists she should figure it out on her own. So that’s what I’ve done. Time will tell if it’s a wise decision or not.

Ruby’s brow is furrowed and she looks distressed. Which she probably is. I’ll have to talk to her later and try and explain.

I’d debated inviting her to this party, because it’s out of her comfort zone, but in the end, I gave her the option and let her make up her mind. She’s curious about domination and submission, despite all the times she tells me she can’t figure out why I’d want such a thing.

All her protests that she’d never let a man control her ear… telling. She asks too many questions, watches Michael and Leo a little bit too closely, and is a little too interested for casual curiosity. So I’m giving her a vehicle to find out more, but she’ll have to pick up the keys and start the ignition.

She’ll get an eyeful. Tonight, subtle isn’t an option.

Ruby

I’m nervous as we walk to the place, unsure what to expect. Located in downtown Chicago, Brandon’s club is off the beaten path, which should work against its success, but from what I understand he has some sort of Midas touch when it comes to business, and considering the current buzz, this place will be no different. As we walk through a near deserted area, Chad walks next to me and I bite my lip.

He takes my hand and squeezes, and when I look up at him, he smiles. “You okay, Ruby?”

I dart a nervous glance at the rest of the group. He spoke low and I don’t think they heard anything. I nod. “I’m good.”

He drops my hand but stays close to my side. He’s considerate that way. My dad would love him. He’s a real stickler for manners and gentlemanly like behavior.

My dad hates my type of guy. Not that I’ve brought anyone home.

We veer off onto a little sub block, walking against the sharp Chicago winter wind before we come to a nondescript, loft building with a locked door.

Layla told me he’d modeled it after a prohibition speakeasy. But right now it looks like an abandoned building. Come tomorrow night there will be a line down the block, but tonight is a private, intimate party for Brandon’s inner circle.

A slot in the door slides open and two eyes peer out, Michael gives his name, and a second later the lock clicks and we’re shown inside.

Even though I’m only here as an observer my heart still thumps too loud in my chest as an attendant takes our coats. It’s like I’ve caught the excitement of Jillian and Layla, and combined it with my own personal brand of nervous energy. I’ve never been to a sex party and I can’t even begin to imagine what I’ll encounter. We walk down a corridor that leads to another closed door with a bouncer standing in front of it.

The guy is huge, with muscles the size of my thighs and tats running the length of his arms. His massive chest stretches the confines of his black T-shirt. While he doesn’t look particularly old, his hair is salt-and-pepper and his eyes are so blue they appear electric.

He looks like a badass. Like ex-military.

He nods at Michael. “Brandon will be here in a minute.”

Jillian laughs. “Is this Brandon or what? It’s like the freakin’ Pentagon to get in.”

The bouncer gives her a raised brow that makes the fine hair on the nape of my neck stand up.

Leo slides a hand around her waist. “She’s a little high strung tonight.”

The guy flashes a grin. “Good luck with that.”

Leo kisses the side of Jillian’s neck. “Come to the back room later, I’ll have her on display.”

Jillian sucks in her breath.

Michael shakes his head. “For fuck’s sake, this is a nightmare.”

The guy looks at Michael before shifting his attention to Jillian, giving her a thorough once over. “She’s very hot.”

Michael looks like he’s grinding his teeth. “She’s my sister.”

The bouncer shrugs. “Still hot.” He turns to Layla and gives her a long, slow perusal. “Not that you’re suffering in that department.”

Layla beams at him and does a little curtsey. “Why thank you, kind sir.”

He winks at her. “Aren’t you a good girl?”

“Always.” The sweet compliance in Layla’s voice could rival the saints in heaven.

Michael palms her ass and Layla sucks in a breath, her expression twisting a bit. “Don’t let her fool you, she only looks like an angel.”

The guy laughs and it’s like smoke, a sexy, husky sound. “And what trouble are you going to get into, little girl?”

Layla bats her eyelashes. “Who me? I never get into trouble.”

Oh my god, she’s actually flirting with him. And Michael’s just standing there, clearly amused.

The door opens and Brandon walks out, wearing his dimpled grin, and black. He’s blond, tall, lanky and gorgeous. Jillian once said he looked like a young Matthew McConaughey in
True Detective
, and it’s an accurate description. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Apparently black is the only acceptable attire for a man tonight. Except for Chad, who’s dressed for casual Friday.

Michael juts a chin at the bouncer. “No worries, your man here is keeping us entertained by flirting with Layla.”

Brandon thumps the bouncer on the back. “Well, Hunter has excellent taste in women.”

I frown. Hunter hasn’t even glanced in my direction.

I’m like a wallflower here. I’m not sure I like the role.

We start filing into the room and Hunter nods at Jillian. “I’ll be seeing you later.”

Jillian blushes while everyone else laughs, and I just stand there feeling lost and confused.

Suddenly there’s a hand on my waist, and I jerk back in surprise. It’s Chad. His brow is furrowed, looking at me in an intense, searching way. “Are you sure you’re okay, you seem a little off?”

“I’m good,” I say, making my words as light as possible. How does he keep doing that? Reading me? I don’t like it.

He rubs a hand up my spine. It’s not sexual, it’s more friendly, reassuring. “Don’t be afraid to let us know if you get overwhelmed.”

Puzzled, I blink at him, and again I get that strange sense he might be bent the same way as Leo and Michael. But that has to be wrong. I smile, wanting to be on even ground with them, or at least with him. “I went to that Metal Punk bar that just opened in Wicker Park, if I can handle that, I can handle anything.”

He flashes me a grin. “Watching people thrash is a bit different than watching people have sex.”

The moment of awareness flashes, then recedes, and I’m left looking into his friendly face. He really is a good guy. He’s just making sure I’m okay. We start to walk, and I bump his hip with mine. “Thanks.”

“Your welcome.”

“You’re a regular Boy Scout, aren’t you?”

He laughs. “Yep. Ask anyone.”

“What are you even doing here?” I ask, but as soon as I enter the space everything else, including his answer, fades into the background.

Holy Shit.

I had no idea what I’d been expecting but it wasn’t this. I think, in my head, I’d pictured something small and seedy, with all sorts of… devices that make me shudder whenever I run across them on the Internet.

“Wow.” My voice is awed, because this place is spectacular.

Brandon named the club The Lair and it was a perfect fit, because that’s exactly what it felt like. It’s rich, and intricate. Like being in a castle. The lighting casts everything in a dim, moody golden glow. I can’t even begin to guess how high the ceilings are but they seem to almost disappear into the sky. The woodwork is thick, mahogany and intricately carved. The furniture looks like it came out of an eighteen-century French boudoir and drawing room. All dark wood, antiqued, and red velvet.

It’s the most gorgeous, most decadent place I’ve ever been in.

It looks like a huge sitting room, with arrangements of chairs and tables clustered together to create an intimate setting. The only homage it pays to being an establishment is the massive bar that lines one wall, but even that looks like it came from another century.

The room is already filled with people but it’s a comfortable-sized crowd. Not packed like a bar or club. I am too stunned by the décor, and sheer awesomeness of the place, to be preoccupied by the patrons nestled into the nooks and crannies.

Jillian whistles. “I saw it being built, but seriously, you’ve outdone yourself, Brandon.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Layla agrees.

Brandon holds his arms wide. “Not sure the grandparents would agree with how I’m spending my trust fund, but I like it.”

“What’s not to like,” I say, still studying the intricate scrollwork on the wood.

Brandon walks over and kisses me on each cheek. “The lovely Ruby decided to come tonight. I’m honored.”

That’s the way Brandon is, he makes everyone feel welcome, even when they don’t belong.

I stand on my tiptoes and hug him. “This is the prettiest place I’ve ever seen.”

He laughs, kisses me again, this time on the lips, and says, “Is that a compliment?”

“It is.” I pull away and I walk over to the wall to touch the wood “Where did you get this?”

“A Parisian Catholic church,” Brandon says.

Layla laughs. “You are so perverse.”

It takes me a second for her meaning to dawn on me. Blessed wood in a place that will host sex parties. It is an odd sense of humor.

Brandon walks to Layla and wraps his arms around her. “And don’t you forget it.”

He stands back, grasps her hands and holds out her arms so he could see her. “My, my, my you’re looking good enough to eat, darling girl.”

Layla smiles. “Thank you.”

Brandon’s blue eyes twinkle with amusement. “It's nights like these, when I can see how hard your nipples are, that I wish Michael wasn’t so possessive of you.”

Michael shakes his head and Layla bats him in the chest. “Whatever.”

Brandon turns a sly glance to Michael. “Any chance you’re feeling flexible tonight?”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Not even a little bit.”

Brandon sighs and turns to Jillian. “And there’s my favorite girl.” He kisses her too on the cheek. “Aren’t you looking like a little dominatrix this evening?”

Jillian is tall, like a warrior princess, there’s not much that doesn’t make her look like a dominatrix. She winks. “Only on the outside.”