Bas sat in his office with the door closed and all his concentration on the security feed coming from Private Room Two. He took a swift drink of a fresh Scotch, grabbed the stress ball from his top drawer and leaned back in his chair. This should be … enlightening.
Bracing his elbow against his desk, he rubbed his temple. The shooting headache had come on fast, right about the time he’d walked down that hallway leaving Alicia behind. Could it be scruples finally rising up, demanding to be heard?
Maybe, but he wasn’t about to let them get in his way.
It was an intricate game of chess he was playing with Reverend Wheeler, and he had no intention of losing, even if he had to play a little dirty. So the preacher didn’t know who was on the board as pawns? He should watch his people more closely.
Especially his sweet-looking daughter.
The headache sharpened as Bas watched Alicia in the room with her client. The video was black and white, but crisp. It gave the picture show an old-time feel, a spaghetti western for the adult crowd. He watched the young buck carefully. The kid looked anxious and needy. Harmless.
Looks could be so deceiving.
Bas began moving the stress ball through his fingers, just getting the feel of it. How far would she go? She’d nearly had a hissy fit when he’d ordered her to dance naked. However many hang-ups and morals he chipped away at, he always seemed to find more with her. In the end, it had been the costume that had actually turned the tide. She’d thought that having some clothes on was better than having none at all.
Ah, the naivety.
After her performance on the main stage, they were going to have to turn away people at the door. He looked lazily at the pile of money on his desktop. She was racking up the tips right along with the fans.
Just how well would she perform in a more intimate environment?
He watched as she strutted around in her raunchy little cowgirl outfit. All her erogenous zones were bared and framed by the chaps. The leather was soft and supple, but it was tough. Even the clunky boots seemed geared towards sex, cutting off right where her calves got plump and bitable.
Her customer sat on the velvet settee. His eyes bugged out as he watched her, but he’d gamely plopped a cowboy hat on his head. The grin on his face was contagious, because Alicia smiled back. She was having fun with this, uncertain but intrigued. Her hips began to sway, a sure sign that the music had started. Bas flipped through the buttons on his remote and enabled the audio.
Music threw some kind of switch with her.
She started dancing in that indescribable way, only she was a good three feet away from her spectator. The man put an end to that fast, leaning forward and latching his arm around her waist. She let out a squeak and her hands landed on his shoulders. Instead of pushing him away, though, her fingers curled into flesh and muscle. Soon she was on the couch with the man, straddling his lap.
Bas watched the young gun bury his face between Alicia’s full breasts. He knew how those tits felt, how firm and warm and lush. His grip tightened on the stress ball, compressing it before releasing it slowly.
Her hips were working to the beat of the music as the client’s hands wandered over her bare ass and up the insides of her thighs. Things were getting hot fast, and she was already making those soft moans of pleasure that had filled his office the other night.
Right here on this very desk.
The stress ball bounced off the dark mahogany. Damn it, but he wanted her. He wanted to be the one standing between her legs, the one holding her in his lap, but he knew it was all lust. He wouldn’t go there, no matter the cost. He could fantasise, though, and he could watch.
But was what he was doing wrong? Was he punishing her because he couldn’t have her? Even if she enjoyed it? He was pushing her hard, he knew. The innocent was being led astray, but damn, she made it so easy.
She let out one of those surprised peeps followed by a low groan when the client turned her around so her bottom was rubbing against his crotch. With a nifty move, the kid spread her legs wide giving the camera a straight-on view of prime pussy. Her breasts bounced as the music continued, and the guy’s hands were all over them. Holding them, squeezing them and playing with her big nipples.
A knock sounded on the office door, breaking Bas’s concentration. ‘Come in,’ he said abruptly.
Remy stalked in, six feet of impatience. The door slammed shut behind him. ‘Turn on Channel Thirteen.’
‘I’m watching something.’
‘You’ll want to see this.’
‘No, you’ll want to see this.’ Bas pointed the remote at the screen and turned up the volume. A sexual sigh filled the air.
Remy’s head whipped around, and his eyes narrowed. ‘What the hell? You assigned Angel a private dance?’
‘I got a special request, and she didn’t turn it down.’
‘Probably because she didn’t know what you were asking, asshole.’
Bas shrugged. ‘I’m still waiting for her to say no.’
Remy’s gaze locked onto the monitor. The edginess that always seemed to hover around him sharpened, but what was going on was hot. He rolled his shoulders. ‘What’s up with the outfit?’
‘Cowgirl night. On-stage, too.’
‘Like that? Damn.’
‘I got it all on tape.’ Bas twirled his remote. ‘I’m thinking pay-per-view.’
‘I’m not paying for it. Shit. Pull up Thirteen, too.’
Bas grumbled, but switched over from a security feed to an open channel on another monitor. The news was on, and the expression on the reporter’s face was serious. In the background, blue and red lights alternated atop a police car. A familiar figure was visible, dressed in uniform. ‘Is that Doyle?’
Remy nodded. He was leaning back against the other side of the desk now, with his arms folded. His gaze was alternating between the sex show on one screen and the late-breaking news story on the other. He didn’t look happy about either.
‘Doyle and Paul Simonsen.’
The microphone-lover. In cuffs.
Bas leaned forward, his attention won. ‘You got him.’
‘We got him. Illegal videotaping. He was stalking one of the Sunlight Epiphany’s other parishioners, a lovely Ms Jeanne Young. I doubt she’ll be playing the organ at their church services much longer. You wouldn’t believe the number of cameras they took from her house.’
Bas scowled. He’d wanted dirt, but he hadn’t expected anything like that. ‘He was watching her without her knowing?’
Remy cracked his knuckles. ‘I enjoyed taking him down.’
‘That’s good work, Remy. Honestly.’
His operations man lifted one eyebrow. ‘What work? We had nothing to do with it.’
No, that was right. They hadn’t. Bas slowly leaned back in his seat and kicked his heels up onto his desk. He tossed the stress ball back and forth between his hands as he watched angular Paul Simonsen dip his head to try to stay away from the media’s cameras. Funny how it was, when the tables were turned.
He glanced at the other screen. Alicia’s head was on her client’s shoulder, her hat knocked askew as the fella stroked her belly and thighs.
Back to the news. ‘What didn’t we find?’
‘We didn’t find video of Jeanne bathing, dressing and sleeping.’
‘Sick creep,’ Bas muttered.
A sharp, surprised cry rang from the speakers and their heads swivelled in unison. Alicia had gone still atop her client, and her eyes were wide as saucers.
‘Is that a nipple clip?’ Remy asked, his voice low.
They watched, the strain in the room rising as the cowboy reached into the drawer of the table beside him and grabbed something. He wrapped his arm around a trembling Alicia, one hand cupping her other breast and holding it still. He pinched the small device he held in front of her, opening it up.
Her chest moved up and down as she gulped in air. Bas and Remy breathed right along with her. She seemed frozen on her client’s lap, too stunned to move or too shocked to realise she could. She watched, her mouth open as that nipple clip came at her. It spread wide and closed slowly.
They all knew exactly when it began to pinch, because she let out an identical cry. One filled with pain, astonishment and need.
‘I do believe it is,’ Bas murmured. He took a long drink of his Scotch. His mouth was suddenly dry.
Remy tilted his head, watching as Alicia began to move. Her hands clawed at her breasts, but the client caught her wrists and held them away. That made Remy jerk. He pushed away from the desk.
‘Dance,’ the man said gruffly.
The order had enough silk and bite in it to make her spine stiffen. And then melt.
A weak mew left her lips, but with her hands caught and her nipples imprisoned, she began to sway.
Remy hesitated, halfway to the door. He seemed torn. ‘She doesn’t know that’s the guy who was so interested in her back door that first day in the cage, does she?’
Bas swirled his golden-coloured drink in his glass. ‘From the way she reacted to him, no.’
The muscles in Remy’s arms bulged. ‘Reacted?’
‘Like he was a cuddly puppy.’ Bas tossed back a drink. ‘She trusted him. The girl needs to learn.’
‘Not like this.’
‘What? Did you want to be her teacher?’
Remy’s jaw hardened. ‘Did you give him permission to use toys on her?’
‘I did.’
‘Back there?’
The news report thrust itself back into the foreground. ‘Authorities say that Simonsen met Young at Sunlight Epiphany Church where they both attend services.’
‘Niiiice,’ Bas murmured.
‘Reverend Harold Wheeler had this to say,’ the serious-looking reporter intoned.
With the lights flashing behind him and his gray hair sticking out at odd angles, the head of the Sunny Epiphanies looked rattled. ‘The devil is insidious,’ he said. ‘We must pray for both their souls.’
‘Must we?’ Remy glanced over his shoulder. ‘Ms Jeanne wasn’t in a very forgiving mood when I saw her, and I don’t blame her.’
‘I do believe we’ve scored a point.’ Bas lifted his glass in salute. ‘Satin Club one, Sunny Epiphanies zero.’
They looked at the screens, alternating between the two. It looked as if it would be Satin Club two before the night was through.
The music was still playing, but Alicia’s harsh pants were audible. Her boyish-looking client had turned her over his knees. Her bare ass was thrust into the air, and the plump globes were outlined perfectly by the chaps. Her breasts hung heavily, their tips still pinched, but she was making no move now to free them.
No, her concern was on what was going to happen next.
And rightfully so.
The baby-faced man was playing some very adult games with her. Her face was white as he reached into the drawer of the small table again, but still she didn’t say no or try to get away.
‘You had first touch the other night, didn’t you?’ Bas asked. He could still call this off or change its direction.
The big man rolled his shoulders. ‘I did.’
‘I didn’t think it would hurt if she got some play back there. It will stretch her a bit more.’
To ready her.
‘He knows the rules,’ Bas assured. ‘Fingers and plugs are fine, but no cocks.’
Remy let out a long, decompressing breath and spotted the glass of Scotch on the desk. ‘You got any more of that?’
Bas nodded towards the chair in front of his desk. ‘Have a seat.’
Opening the deep lower drawer, he pulled out a bottle and another snifter. He plucked a few cubes of ice out of the stainless steel bucket on his desk – the same one that Alicia had knocked to the floor the other day. He poured the single malt and passed it along. ‘Enjoy.’
‘If you want to call it that.’ Remy stretched out his long body, his legs spreading loosely. He rubbed the back of his neck as he watched the free show.
From that point on, neither of them was interested in talking. They watched the black and white screen with laser-like focus, the colourful newscast muted and forgotten. They listened as Alicia peeped, protested, cried out and groaned as her customer explored her body in all new ways. He petted her bottom and coated her tight little rose-shaped opening with lubricant.
Bas went back to his stress ball. That lubricant was slicker than the ointment he’d used on her reddened thighs, but he knew how taut and warm her dancer’s body felt.
Her hips shifted and rolled.
That earned her a sharp rap on her right cheek.
She jerked in surprise and her cowboy hat fell to the floor. She moaned when a rigid finger stroked down her crack. She had to be used to material sitting there now, but not the touch of warm, firm flesh. Her shiver was visible and so was the clench in her butt cheeks when that inquisitive finger found something it wasn’t supposed to.
‘Oh!’ she gasped. Her hips rocked again, but her legs spread open a few more inches.
The cowboy took the advantage, working his wrist deeper into her butt cleavage. He was purposeful as he stroked his finger round and round, lubing her opening up good. The guy watched her as he began to press more firmly. Alicia’s hair flew around her shoulders as she twisted and caught his wrist. But then their gazes caught.
Bas could feel the tension from where he sat; both onscreen and from the man seated across his desk.
Leesha’s body was stiff and trembling, and so were her soft lips.
‘She’s thinking of you,’ he murmured.
Remy took a long drink, his head still resting back against the crook of his arm. The casual pose was deceptive. He could be out of that chair and in that room in under fifteen seconds. ‘She likes it back there, but she thinks she shouldn’t.’
Bas squeezed and released the stress ball now like it was a blood-pressure kit. ‘She’s going to let him.’
‘Fuck,’ Remy swore. ‘She’s too sweet and curious for her own good.’
Her sharp cry disintegrated into a series of pants as her customer pushed his finger deep into her. The lubricant made the passage easier, and he pumped inside her, then pulled his finger out to coat it again.
Alicia had stopped struggling. Music played all around them. The original song was long gone, but the tunes set the mood and comforted her. If the room was silent, Bas had no doubt she would have been out the door. He was somewhat surprised that she hadn’t bolted for it yet.
But the choice of a partner had been perfect for her.
She was stretched out over the young guy’s lap in a sexy pose on the velvet sofa. Behind her, she didn’t see the anal plug that was about to go into her. Bas did and he leaned forward in his chair. Her cowboy was coating it up good, but it wasn’t a small one. It wasn’t the biggest in their collection either, but for an innocent like her, she’d certainly feel it.
And fight it.
She flinched when her partner pressed the screw top of the lubricant right against her pursed flesh, shoving it a bit inside. He squeezed the clear thick goo right into her and then tossed it on the floor. She watched as the tube tumbled across the carpet, completely oblivious until the penetration started.
When it did, her eyes flew open.
He didn’t take it slow. The cowboy pushed the thick knobbish end of the anal plug into her, and the sucking pop was audible all the way through the security mike. Leesha gave a sharp cry and writhed like a snake.
It was too late to fight. The customer already had her under his control. Spreading her ass wide, he settled his palm against the base of the intrusive device and pushed steadily. It crept into her ass with determined slowness.
Remy’s legs moved from their casual pose at Alicia’s sounds of distress, pulling towards him until his feet were planted flat on the floor. The plug wasn’t all that thick, but it was bigger than any fingers she’d had there. It was also harder and less merciful.
‘You can take it,’ her dance partner crooned. His boyish voice was gone, replaced by that of a dominant master. He looked the part, too, the smooth planes of his face creased into austere lines of determination. And pleasure. ‘Bear down, Angel.’
She was whimpering, her legs twitching, but the look on her face was a combination of panic and ecstasy. A burst of energy went through her and she surged upright, pushing herself onto her knees.
And effectively impaling herself on the butt plug.
The thick black stub of rubber disappeared into her, probing deeply. The cry that erupted from her lips was a sob.
But the cowboy took advantage of her surprise. He caught her by the waist and turned her upright again, spreading her legs so she was straddling his lap. He locked his knees inside hers, spreading her legs wide.
Alicia was wriggling on his lap, but it wasn’t pain written all over her face.
‘She’s going to come,’ Remy murmured.
The businessman unzipped his pants. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath them, and his cock settled in her notch. He was broad and worked up, but kind of stubby. His dick was nearly purple as he rubbed it back and forth along her pussy.
She was wet. Bas’s gaze honed in on that prime spot. And she was panting.
The cowboy twirled his finger in the air and the volume of the music rose. That was when he really went to work.
Holding her firmly by the hips he began to thrust against her plump pussy lips. Forward and back he went along the groove. The head of his cock poked out between her legs with every pump. She let out a moan that echoed throughout the small room.
‘Dance, cowgirl,’ the guy said into her ear. ‘Ride me.’
Her eyes fluttered closed, but her hips began to roll. Of her own volition, she lifted her arms overhead as the music and arousal coursed through her. They rocked that way for a while, and the man’s cock got bigger and redder. Finally, he took advantage of her inattention and plucked the nipple clips off of her. They tinkled against the table as he tossed them aside, and the sound was drowned out by Alicia’s pained, thrilled cry.
‘That’s almost worse,’ Bas murmured. His stress ball was now one solid, cramped knot in his fist. Sex toys were funny that way. One would think putting them on and wearing them would be the difficult part, but when they were removed, the circulation returned. Hot blood gushed to starved flesh.
Leesha’s nipples looked like they were on fire, and her client finally let her touch them. Her hands clapped over her breasts and her fingers worked urgently, trying to ease the sting. The young buck helped her, and it was enough to send her reeling. The orgasm swept through her, and her long moan drowned out the music.
Bas’s Scotch sloshed around in its snifter.
‘God, look at her,’ Remy groaned.
‘Don’t say God or she’ll snap out of it and run towards the door.’ Bas was now working the stress ball in time with the thrusts of the lovers’ hips. ‘But she is something.’
Above all else, her arousal was clear. Whatever doubts or hesitations she had about what was happening to her – what she was doing – it was bringing her pleasure. Her eyes were clamped closed and her mouth was open as she panted and groaned. She might have come, but her client had more stamina.
He was still stroking along her slick groove, his stubby cock bumping up against her clit with every thrust.
‘Isn’t he going to put it inside her?’ Remy growled.
Bas gave a bark of laughter. ‘He might be taking my “no cocks” rule a bit too far.’
Remy threw back a gulp of Scotch, not savouring it at all. ‘Fine by me.’
‘Hell, you’re probably the one he’s afraid of running into if he does.’
Alicia was caught up in the music and the sex again. She was playing with herself. She stroked her hands down low on her stomach to where her chaps were buckled.
Her fingertips swept along her thighs, tickled the leather ties and followed the worked leather up to where her hips were left bare. Her touch lingered there as her backside was alternately squished and released. The cowboy might not be fucking her properly, but he was riding her hard. One of her hands caught his hip, and her grip turned his flesh white. Reaching back, she caught him by the nape of the neck too.
Remy’s fingers flexed and clenched at the base of his own skull.
Bas worked the stress ball and tried to remember to breathe. The two of them were voyeurs watching from the privacy of his office as the two lovers rutted in a room on the other side of the building. Despite its name, Private Room Two wasn’t all that private. They had good seats, and Charlie had a prime spot as security in the next room. Plus, everything was going on tape.
Everything right up to the big climax.
For, as dominant as her client was, and as well as he was instructing her, the young businessman went off first this time. His muscled body jerked and Alicia rocked atop him. The kid cursed and caught her in a tight hug from behind. His last harsh thrust must have kicked at the anal plug, because she reared up and let out a sharp, satisfied cry.
Her body arched, her full breasts lifting as she found her second crest. She bumped against her partner’s hat, knocking it onto the sofa beside them. When it was over, she sagged back against him. The kid had a satisfied grin on his face and he looped his thumbs in the belt of her chaps. He whispered something into her ear that made her face go red.
‘They look like they’ve both been ridden hard and put out wet,’ Remy muttered.
They did, but Bas was noticing something else. Sweet Leesha wasn’t removing the butt plug. Remy was right. As much as she might protest, she liked it there – or maybe she didn’t like it, but it made her so horny she accepted it anyway. Either way, he was intrigued.
He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. The boner he had was going to have to be patient.
Maybe he’d make her leave it there. She did have another hour left before her shift was over. Could she dance with that thing?
Dance dance. Not the bump and grind she’d just performed.
He considered it, but the regulars in the crowd hadn’t paid for that. It was nice to know what perks money could buy, though. Especially with a dancer who was quickly becoming the most popular performer in his club.
‘Looks like we’ve accomplished a few things tonight.’ He picked up his remote and turned off the television. The news report was over and some late-night comedian was interviewing an aging movie star. ‘The Sunlight Epiphany Church should be rocking back on its heels after tonight.’
Remy drained his drink and pushed himself up to his full height. Slashes of colour were high on his cheekbones. He shifted in discomfort and adjusted his jeans. ‘They’re resilient.’
Bas glanced over his friend’s shoulder at the black and white screen. Alicia’s customer had left her with a long kiss, and she was trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to remove the sex toy that had been inserted into her rectum. ‘Yes, they are.’
There was a wad of bills sitting on the table next to the nipple clips. Would she take it?
Remy rubbed his hand over his head. ‘I was thinking … The reverend has another disciple who followed him all the way up from Birmingham.’
Bas didn’t need any more. ‘Do it.’
The big operations man turned on his heel, and his gaze went like a magnet to the screen. Charlie was in the room now, helping Alicia. The bouncer had made her bend over so her elbows were braced on the table. Her lips pressed together hard as he slowly disengaged the anal plug from its snug home. He wrapped it discreetly in a handkerchief and patted her cheek.
‘Think Charlie’s getting enough eye candy now?’ Bas murmured.
‘You can be a Grade A bastard sometimes. You know that?’
Their Angel was more comfortable now, but questions and distress were now clear on her face. The signals of regret made Bas impatient, but Remy raked a hand through his hair. She was covering her private parts again, and she threw a nervous look at the two-way mirror. Had she only now remembered that she’d an audience?
The duality struck Bas. Paul Simonsen was probably headed to jail for his Peeping Tom fetish. Cameras in a private home were taboo if people knew about them, and flat-out illegal if they didn’t. Yet here in the Satin Club people expected them.
Charlie finished up and opened the door. He held it for her, but Alicia didn’t seem ready to face the world yet. After being so free and uninhibited, she was trying to hide her body again. She grabbed her hat from the floor and used it to cover her crotch. She held an arm over her breasts and stared at the tip her customer had left her. She hovered over it for a solid minute before picking it up. She left quickly and the click of the door was loud against the microphone.
‘She’s going to want to go home,’ Remy said.
‘Tough.’ Bas sat up straight, put the stress ball away and finished his drink. ‘She’s here until closing time. That was the deal.’
‘Tomorrow’s Sunday. She’ll want to get up early to go to worship service.’
Would she? ‘I know.’
She was going to have to make a decision eventually. Just how much more would it take to tip her over to their side? From the way she was meeting every challenge they threw at her, it wouldn’t be much longer. What had started as a threat to the Satin Club’s very survival was turning into an opportunity.
He wanted her in his club permanently. Thirty days wasn’t close to being enough.
‘I don’t want to risk her seeing the news. I want her to be surprised about Paul when she gets to church in the morning,’ he said. ‘Besides, that cowgirl outfit is pure gold. Another hour of her dancing in it and we’ll be fighting them off at the door for the rest of the week.’