Tease Me Once by W. Winters
Declan
There’s faint bruising on the knuckles of my right hand and I run the thumb of my left over it as I watch the show. The dining room is nearly always packed on Thursdays.
Men in my line of work and the everyday patron have a certain addiction in common: sex. The phrase “sex sells” is timeless and there’s a reason for that.
The lights are dim, and my gaze moves from the stage to the corner booth of the dining room. All eyes are focused on the two women, bound tight with coarse rope and suspended from the ceiling … all eyes on them save two men in tailored suits.
The deal is almost done and as if on cue, a woman is spun, her back arched, her body covered in striations from the ties of the rope. The audience applauds the demonstration and the two men stand, buttoning their jackets and shaking hands.
Marco’s gaze meets mine and with the raise of my tumbler, he gives a short nod.
The crack of the whip behind him causes the man to flinch, and then a grin lifts up the corners of his lips. I watch as his trading partner’s shoulders rise and fall with a chuckle. It’s good for Davis that Marco is so easygoing and doesn’t take any offense to the laughter. Marco turns to face the stage, watching as the woman’s skin lights a bright pink from where the leather cat-o’-nine-tails has struck her. Even from this distance, I swear I can hear the soft moans of pleasure spilling from the woman’s mouth. Her hair is pulled back tight in a bun, and the stage performer grabs it, tilting her head to devour her lips.
“It won’t be long until they’re fucking on stage,” Mia comments as the glass clinks on the counter. I glance down to see another two fingers of whiskey at the ready for me.
Downing my drink, I slide her the empty one. “I believe that’s what most of the audience is waiting for,” I respond with a smirk, although it falls as my gaze moves to Braelynn.
She barely watches, just like the rest of the servers. They work diligently, taking care of the guests who are awestruck by the entertainment.
They’re not the only ones she avoids.
It’s been three days of her staying as far from me as possible. It’s a rare moment when I catch her gaze. More than likely because I’ve hidden myself away in my office, watching her and looking into her background.
Braelynn Lennox has secrets. Not the least of which is a life she’s just run away from, and I’m aware of every sordid detail. I’m all too aware of it.
The black dress clings to her curves as she bends at the waist to collect a stray cocktail napkin that’s fallen. A deep, low groan of appreciation leaves me without my conscious consent. My eyes close slowly as I attempt to rid myself of the black lace image. Unfortunately, all I imagine in its place is what lies beneath the delicate fabric.
With the crack of the whip cutting through the perverse vision, I open my eyes and she’s right there. A foot from me, the closest she’s ever been.
Her shy smile accompanies a quick glance before she reaches past the bar to deliver a drink slip to Mia.
“Boss,” she says, greeting me like everyone else. There’s a sick coldness that settles at the tip of my tongue, capturing the warm tease I had for her.
Her black nails rap on the bar and she hesitantly peeks up at me. All I can do is stare down at her, noting every delicate detail. Including the faint blush that gathers at her neck, traveling to her cheeks and then higher, moving to her temples as she’s caught in my gaze.
“Is everything okay, Declan?” she questions in a whisper.
That deep, low groan is silent this time, and it travels lower, to my hardening cock. That’s better, my little pet.
Smirking, I lift the whiskey glass to my lips, sipping before I nod and ask her how her night is going.
“It’s something else,” she answers, swallowing hard and I don’t miss how her gaze drops to my lips before she tears it away, the applause of the audience drawing her attention to the stage.
She’s quick to bring her attention back to Mia, who hasn’t yet touched Braelynn’s slip.
I offer up an observation, testing the tension between us. “Tonight’s entertainment is one of the more popular shows.”
One look down, and it’s evident her nipples are hard. Were they like that when she walked up here? The thin lace can’t hide her desire.
She’s quiet, only nodding at my commentary. “Are you curious?” I ask her.
Her dark eyes meet mine and this time there’s fire. The flames of it consume the oxygen around us. Fuck. What that look does to me is positively sinful. The heated stare doesn’t deny the pull between us. I could get lost in that gaze of hers and abandon the boundaries we’re toying with altogether. She hesitates at my question, but settles on one of her own. “Curious or scandalized?”
“If that scandalizes you,” I start, lifting my drink to the stage, “you may want to reconsider your employment here.” It’s meant as a joke of sorts, or perhaps a warning but as she glances back at the stage, without her expression easily seen, my body heats with an anxiousness that she could leave. She could so easily walk out of those doors and never come back.
The cords in my neck tighten, but then surprise takes hold of me at her response. “Is that what you like?” she asks in a soft murmur.
Depraved thoughts filter into my mind.
The ice clinks in my glass as I face her and say, “What did you ask?” My tone is deathly low as the background music continues to play, the whip cracks and Braelynn’s eyes close, her shoulders shuddering as if the tanned leather strips had stuck against her flesh. I can imagine how her olive skin would brighten, how the rush of fresh blood would be pulled to the surface. How sensitive she’d feel on every inch I played with.
She stares back at me, seemingly unaffected as I imagine her plump lips parted with a strangled cry of pleasure. “Is that what you like?” she asks again, quieter this time, tilting her head in the direction of the stage.
The woman on the stage is wrapped tightly in rope and at Braelynn’s question, my eyes easily undress her, imagining her gorgeous tan skin decorated in black satin binds.
“If it crosses a line—”
Rather than answer her, I ask my own question. “Do you like the idea of being bound?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she answers and then glances past me, checking on Mia and the state of the drinks I imagine she’s waiting on.
“Do you think you’d like to give up control, to be a fuck toy to whatever a man like me would want?” I question her, expecting the phrase fuck toy to throw her off. To send her back to the other side of The Club.
It doesn’t, though. Her body tenses slightly, her thighs subtly clenching. My grip tightens on the glass as my throat dries. She seems to ponder it and my cock gets impossibly hard. Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth, she hums softly before looking back up at me.
Tease. She’s nothing but fate’s temptation for me.
“Would you want to do it in front of others … on a stage like them?” she asks and the world pauses around us. Not a sound can be heard. It all blurs as I peer down at her, curiosity evident but so damn innocent.
She has no idea how I’d love to shove my cock down her throat, her hands bound behind her back, that black dress ripped down the front. If I could have her on her knees, struggling to catch her breath as her mascara ran down her face and her eyes brimmed with tears … I would have her every fucking day just like that.
Every instinct in me wants to drag her back to my office and show her exactly what I’d do to her. If she were my pet, mine to toy with. Mine to do whatever I desire.
“Would you?”
“I don’t know … I guess,” she answers as I stand impossibly still, not trusting myself. The reminder that she could be undercover and playing me screams in my head. Screams at me that if I wanted, she’d let me, that she’d do it just to get closer to me.
This beautiful, innocent woman would allow me to do every sordid thing I’ve ever wanted.
“Stop it,” I say, pushing out the words and then finish my drink, sucking the whiskey against my teeth.
“What?” She whispers the word with disbelief, taking a step back. I watch her from my periphery as I slam the tumbler down on the bar as gently as I can, although the adrenaline rushes through me, its intensity demanding I let it take over. Without looking at her, listening to the applause, I know not a soul in this room has any idea how on edge I am. What this woman does to me isn’t justifiable.
“Don’t say another word,” I command her and then move my gaze to meet hers. Her dark eyes swirl with a mix of emotion. The cords in her neck tighten as she swallows thickly. “You need to stop before something bad happens to you, Braelynn.”
