Dani felt the excitement swirl within her as she stepped out of Rand’s car and into the line at Curl, willing to stand for a few minutes in the wind to cool off the almost electric vibration of her pulse.
Dial it back, girl. You’ve got this and then some.
It had been almost a week since the museum event, and since then she’d worked hard to control her evenings with Rand so that there wouldn’t be a repeat of that little fiasco. Simply put, she’d called the shots whenever possible, jumping in to suggest outings that would get them in public and in her world as much as possible. He’d actually seemed to enjoy a second cat-burglar assignment for Lou, with the target being a pawnshop, of all places, and Dani couldn’t deny that having him and his fast car along for the job had made things hella easier.
He’d also had the grace not to mention Dani’s conversation with his sister. Unfortunately, however, he’d wined and dined her two other times now, not shying away from booking them into some of the city’s nicest restaurants and ordering the most expensive food on the menu. Still stinging from Catherine’s rebuke, Dani had felt ridiculously uncomfortable both evenings, which had only opened her up to chattering more than she should have. Even at the time, she’d wondered if that had been Rand’s goal, to keep her off-kilter enough to pummel her with questions, but she’d been too distracted to put him off. He’d grilled her on all sorts of stupid topics, seeming to want to know everything about her. She’d kept as far away from the truth as she could, but the man was beginning to wear her down.
Even worse, she couldn’t deny that some small part of her wanted him to know the “real” her. And that was most dangerous of all. Because she’d been dressing the part of Dani Michaels for so long, even she was beginning to wonder who she really was.
Which was what tonight was all about—her “world,” or at least the world Rand believed she lived in. And more importantly, her rules inside this world. So Richie Rich wanted see how the other half lived? Well, he was about to get an eyeful, and she would stay in control. A good old-fashioned win-win.
Curl was one of hottest dance clubs in the city, at least this week, and she knew the bartenders and bouncers here. She also knew the way into the Darke, the club within a club that Curl was better known for among those who had the right connections.
Beside her, Rand allowed his own breath to escape, the quick puff of air betraying his irritation with waiting at all, to do anything. He was wound as tight as she was, and he seemed to constantly want to touch her—brush his fingers against her hair, hold her elbow, touch her shoulder. That thought made her happier than it should.
She wouldn’t give Rand the satisfaction of knowing that he’d been right, that she did crave his body more and more, every time she was with him. She told herself that her interest in him just made the days and weeks pass more quickly, but now even she was beginning to wonder if she was starting to actually care for the guy.
Yeah, and she needed that like a hole in the head. Yet another reason for them both to lose themselves in the insanity of Curl tonight.
Just then, the bouncer at the front door cast a sharp eye down the line, spotting her. She’d texted earlier, to see if this was a good night, careful as always to use her contacts sparingly. He’d said to come on up, and he waved her forward now, sliding his gaze to her date with unconcerned approval. He didn’t know who the hell Rand Sterling Winston IV was, and he didn’t care. The fact that Rand was with her was enough.
The inside of Curl was much like any other dance club in Boston—bright strobe lights, pounding music, a clientele of twentysomethings on up that bucked and writhed on a crowded floor, eager to dance and drink and soak up every hour spent outside their cubicle walls. She’d toyed with just dancing tonight, just having a regular date, like a regular person, but that really seemed like a missed opportunity. Even now, Rand’s hand rested lightly on her shoulder, clearly giving her the go-ahead to lead him deeper into the crowd.
And she could dance with anyone.
She moved to the right, lifting her hand to the bartender whose gaze shot from her to the man beside her, the woman’s smile curving into a knowing grin. It amused Dani to think that Rand had been demoted to simply a hot piece of ass, but it was his own fault: He was a hot piece of ass.
“You want anything to drink?” she shouted, leaning forward to be heard over the surging din.
“Depends,” he said, his deep voice easily carrying. “Where are we heading?”
She nodded, knowing what he was asking. If there wasn’t alcohol at their destination, there would be at least the possibility of sex; if there was alcohol, why was this secondary club located behind closed doors, away from the main crowd? She didn’t bother answering him, and his eyes glittered with even more curiosity as she swung away to order their drinks—shots only, consumed on the spot—but then the bartender told her who was manning the bar behind Darke’s closed doors. She could almost hear the gears in Rand’s brain churning, no small feat with the noise around them. This wasn’t a sex club they were moving toward, so what was it? He gestured her forward, clearly ready to learn more. Together, they walked through the club, the din gradually growing quieter behind them as they passed into a long corridor lit with a purplish hue. They hadn’t gotten far when a man stepped out from an alcove.
He wasn’t large so much as imposing, but he was clearly a bouncer, guardian of the murky world beyond this corridor. He smiled when he saw Dani, then his gaze drifted to Rand. Another nod. “Client of yours?”
She honestly could have kissed the man. Rand went absolutely rigid beside her as he processed this new information. Dani was no more a dominatrix than she was a cocker spaniel, but Rand didn’t know that. Really, there was a lot about her that Rand didn’t know. And a lot that he already does, a voice urged quietly in her mind, willing her to be careful. So much the better to keep him guessing, then.
They stepped past the bouncer into the space beyond, and she paused a little to let Rand get his bearings. A woman wearing nothing but ropes walked by them, followed by two other men, each of whom held a trailing end of her outfit. It was impossible to tell their roles, given the glassy-eyed adoration of both men focused on the woman who was supposedly in their control, but the effect on Rand was immediate and gratifying.
He sidled up to her, bending low so he could speak into her ear. “So what is this place for you, Dani? An experience you’ve tried before and liked, or something you want to try for the first time?”
A woman in a thigh-length shift paused in front of them, lofting her tray. She also recognized Dani, and her gaze turned speculative as she turned to look at Rand. “The usual?” she asked, glancing back at Dani.
Dani managed an arch smile. She’d been an on-again, off-again bartender at Darke for the last few months, but she hadn’t spoken much—and she’d never hung out here for pleasure. Without asking for clarification, Rand took her arm and brought her over to a tall table as the waitress vanished toward one of the bar areas. They turned and looked at the spaces in front of them.
Darke, true to its name, was not an excessively well-lit environment. A fetish club catering to discerning adults, the club was making a quiet name for itself as a place where the focus was strictly on pleasure and gratification. Members paid monthly fees for admission, which covered all alcohol within, but the rules of the club were absolute regarding service and behavior. Due to the extensive screening of members and rules concerning any guests, no one stepped out of line.
Which, if anything, made what happened inside the club more dangerous.
Several scenes played out in front of their raised platform, lit in a myriad of muted lights that checkered and flowed over the bodies, heightening the sensual experience. Directly in front of them was a bondage scene, a woman lashed with padded straps to a wooden structure. She was naked and blindfolded, and her back arched in both panic and pleasure, her mouth open. Dani imagined her eyes were clenched shut beneath the silken mask.
The two men at either side of the woman leaned forward, drawing a slender crop down either side of her torso. Dani shifted her gaze away.
“Scenes don’t appeal to you?” Rand asked. The music was much lower here than in the room outside, pervasive but not overwhelming. “Or just that one?”
She tilted her head, not looking at him, lest she betray her true emotions. Instead her gaze roamed farther out into the floor, where there were public demonstrations of other sensory pleasures—dripping wax, clamps, flogging, and shibari. The shibari held her attention the longest, just because she didn’t often get a chance to see it. The intricate knots of the Japanese rope-tying process were an art unto itself, and the woman ensnared in those knots added to the beauty, her limbs strained to the utmost as she arched in an impossibly elegant pose, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure.
Dani had watched such players many times, had wondered at the positions, the trust involved—and felt her mouth tighten at the last thought. Bondage for her was an absolute hard-stop no. Given her naturally controlling nature, no one had ever thought twice about this restriction, but somehow, she sensed that Rand wouldn’t let that answer stand without exploring it further. And that was another hard-stop no for her.
“I don’t have a need to be watched,” she said, focusing on the element she didn’t really care about, to keep Rand’s attention off the element she did. “Not my thing.”
Her redirection worked. “You might find you enjoy it,” Rand said, a silken undercurrent to his words. “There’s pleasure to be found in being a part of a public scene, and pleasure in watching it, too. Especially when you are watching people skilled at the demonstration.”
That was true enough. Clearly, some of the people on the floor were professionals, not dilettantes. Certainly they moved with an assuredness that implied a masterful understanding between both partners—or multiple partners, in some cases. The people who ringed the scenes, in comparison, seemed fresher, newer, their excitement almost palpable, adding to the tension rocketing through the club.
Drinks had appeared at their table, and Dani reached for hers, only to have Rand intercept her hand. He drew her over to stand in the lee of his body as he turned her toward the nearest scene. She instinctively flinched, unsure of what she would be seeing, but Rand held her steady. A viewer shifted to the right, opening up her line of sight, and her mouth went dry.
The men no longer trailed the crops along the woman’s body in unison, but had broken off to focus on two specific points, one teasing her breasts to quivering peaks, and the other—
“So you do like watching,” Rand murmured in her ear, and Dani jumped, her mind drawn back into focus as she felt his hands slide up her waist to cup her breasts. “You’re trembling,” he said. “Would you like to be touched that way, Dani? Is that why you brought me here tonight?” He paused, dropping his mouth to her ear, and she shuddered against the sensual assault as she watched the woman on the platform writhe and twitch under the hands of her own sweet torment. “Because if so, I very much want to be the one to do it.”
The word floated out of her before she could stop it. “Yes.”
Rand had to suppress his own immediate, racking shudder. He didn’t know this club, but he’d been in enough similar places to understand the general layout. He kissed the soft shell of Dani’s ear. “Drink your drink, and keep watching,” he said. He pressed the glass into her hand, then turned back toward the table. He caught the eye of the waitress, who glided forward, leaning in so he could whisper in her ear. Her answering smile was bright, and she held up two fingers, pointing off into the distance, then shifted forward to explain the details with equal discretion. She also pulled something from the belt at her skirt and handed it to him.
Rand felt the soft texture of silk between his fingers and nodded to her. Perfect.
Turning back to Dani, he rested a hand on her shoulder, aware of how she jumped even though he’d kept some part of his body in constant contact with hers. She was primed to his every movement, and that fact made him even more determined to get her alone. He lifted his hands, rubbing the silk against her cheek. She flinched, but he followed her movement, not letting her escape the sensual feel of the material. When she stilled beneath his hands, he drew the soft strip across her face, leaning forward so only she heard him. “I’m going to blindfold you now.”
“Why?” The question was sharp and immediate, and he smiled. The panic in Dani’s voice was layered over with anger, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Blindfolding was a hot button for her, but he sensed it wasn’t the true issue. That didn’t stop him from applying pressure to that sensitive point, however. Much faster to break through to the ultimate weakness, to lay bare Dani’s core vulnerability. His mouth practically watered at the thought.
“So you won’t know where I’m taking you,” he said, gauging her reactions carefully. “But I promise you, you’ll either like every step of the way, or we’ll stop. No other option. You have my word on that.”
Her shoulders remained rigid, her neck taut, but she finally gave a short, jerky nod.
He didn’t let her change her mind. He drew the narrow strip of cloth over the bridge of her nose, tightening it behind her head. He turned her then, and she convulsively reached for his hands, his arms, as much to assure herself that he was still there as for any real guidance. The grip of her fingers on him felt true and right, and he kept talking as he moved her out, the waitress flowing in behind him to recover their drinks.
“We’re just going to move down the hallway to the back.”
“It’s not the same—”
“Shhh,” he said. “I know it’s not the same kind of club as Noir, Dani. I’ve got this.”
She shut up then, deliberately shifting forward so she was out of reach of his whispered words, but still within range of his hand. The slight defiance only served to jack him up further, but she was right. He couldn’t take her here, not fully, not even with his mouth. The club had rules, and he would honor them.
But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t enjoy the hell out of herself. He had seen her face as she’d looked down over the scenes out on the main floor. There was a thin veneer of shock, but he didn’t think her reaction was so much at what she was seeing. It was her shock at her own response to what she was seeing. The erotic balance of pleasure and pain, of bondage and release, had her teetering just on the edge of what she would allow herself to experience and what would push beyond her definition of exciting and into the realm of torture. He knew that knife edge very well. He’d danced along it himself, fully aware of the unfounded fears and emotions that held him back, but honoring those fears and emotions just the same. It was how he was able to survive, and even to conquer.
He had a feeling Dani had the same sort of push and pull. And for her to be walking forward, into this room with him—
He stopped, halting her momentarily, then steering her into salon 2. The lights were muted here, the better to see the room beyond. This salon opened up onto the main floor as well, the entire wall a one-way mirror. He hadn’t known that was the setup here, but now, seeing the bodies writhing in ecstasy in the club beyond, he wondered if he should take off Dani’s blindfold, but he didn’t think so, not yet.
He wanted to drop her a little more into herself first.
Bringing up the lights to dim the scene beyond the walls, he pulled her across the room and turned her around until she faced him once again. He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. “Do you trust me?” he asked, and softened the intensity of the question with a smile.
It was a smile she returned. “Not even remotely.”
“Hmm. Maybe we should do something about that.”
Rand stepped in even closer to Dani, invading her personal space. With her eyes still blindfolded, she seemed awkward, unsure, her hands coming up to rest against his chest in an almost defensive maneuver. Smiling, though she couldn’t see him, Rand lifted her left hand away from his chest and stretched it up to his mouth, tasting her fingertips before placing a soft kiss in the center of her palm. Her fingers relaxed as he drew his lips down farther to caress the inside of her wrist, reveling in the jumping pulse. He draped her hand over his shoulder, then moved the other one until it rested on his waist.
Her lips quirked into a smile that was more bravado than he suspected Dani realized. “Are we about to slow dance?” she asked. “You realize I can’t see.”
“Not exactly,” he murmured. He lifted his hands to her chin again and kissed her on the lips—lightly at first, then more thoroughly.
He could sense the precise moment when Dani relaxed into the embrace. Kissing, she understood. Kissing, she could handle. Her hands tightened around him, and she breathed out a long sigh, tilting her head farther and parting her lips to allow his tongue to snake inside her mouth, to savor the sweet taste of her. He trailed his hands down her back until he could cup her ass, imagining what her naked skin would feel like against his palms. She couldn’t miss the way his body responded, and she stepped into him with urgency, her hands lifting to tangle in his hair as she traced a line of kisses up the side of his cheeks. “Rand,” she said, “seriously, there’s no sex in this place. You understand that, right?”
“I do. But there’s something here that promises to be even better than sex.”
“Oh, really?” Dani’s expression turned so doubtful he almost laughed out loud. “So what is it, exactly, that you have in mind?”
Rand felt the confidence surging through him, his mind already racing ahead to the pleasures he had in store for Dani—and for himself. He lowered his mouth to hers for a long, sweet kiss. Then he spoke again.
“I’d like to remove your dress and strap you to the cross in the center of this room.” He said the words lightly, easily, but they seemed to have the effect of a slap against Dani’s skin. She jerked back, color rising swiftly in her cheeks as her eyes widened behind her blindfold. Her hands flared out in an almost defensive gesture; then she did something he never would have expected.
Dani stepped away from him and ripped off her blindfold, her face filled with outrage.
“No way in hell.”