wasn’t planning on being part of her plans. Ever.”
Kicking the covers aside, he swung from the bed and paced. “Lee-Anne is a lying, scheming, social-climbing, cold-hearted, class-A b-”. He stopped mid-stride and looked up, comprehension spreading over his face, blossoming into a wide grin. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? It’s not about the Rouge or me keeping secrets from you. It’s not about your job or the stalker at all. You’re jealous.”
Rosie’s jaw dropped. “Jealous? Of all the arrogant, self-serv-”
“Honey, whenever you think about that bitch, your eyes turn bright green.”
“I am not jealous.” Damn it, then why had she felt like pulling out her Glock and capping Lee-Anne right there in the middle of the party?
Sam’s grin broadened. “Yeah, you are. That’s why you’re so pissed off.” He leaned over the bed and touched his forefinger to her nose. “You, Rosalinda Maria Ramos, are jealous. It’s driving you nuts thinking that I might sleep with someone else.”
Damn it, he was right. When had she become such a possessive bitch? “It’s not jealousy, Sam. It’s disappointment. I trusted you. You gave me your word that while we were together it would just be us.”
“Oh, baby. I don’t know whether to turn you over my knee and spank you for not believing me or to get angry with you for not trusting me. But Lee-Anne Bennett lied to you. I am not going to the club on Saturday. I cancelled out weeks ago-you can check with Chad or Thalia, or even Cooper if you doubt me.”
Intending to do just that, Rosie leaned back against the pillows. “Okay. Let’s say Lee-Anne is lying. I’m not saying she is, but if she is, there’s still the matter about your involvement with the club. Is it true that mйnages are an accepted part of a member’s initiation. Or was she lying about that too?”
He shook his head slowly as if trying to determine where she’d attack. “No-o, pretty much anything goes on initiation night as long as all the participants agree.”
“So these women-the ones at the party tonight were members, right?-do they have sex with anyone they want? Anywhere they want? Or do you guys order them who to do claiming you’re their masters?” Do they parade around naked and shove their tits in your face? Do they wrap themselves around you like that Tawny woman who draped herself around Kris tonight? How could she ever measure up to such surgical perfection? And yet the idea of the club wasn’t as appalling as she’d first thought. As long as there were no other women in the club that looked like Tawny or Mandy.
“Ah.” The mattress dipped when he resumed his place beside her. “You think I might be tempted by one of them?”
Hell yes. Even I found some of them attractive. “It’s a reasonable concern.”
He unclenched her fingers from the comforter and twined them with his. “I have not-” he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, “-am not-” he kissed the inside of her wrist, “-and will not be with any other woman as long as you’re in my life.”
With a quick move, he tugged her until she lay on top of him. His hands cupping her behind, he leaned up and kissed the tip of her nose. “I will never cheat on you, Rosie. I promise.”
She straddled him and sat up, feeling his cock twitch against her behind. “If I do find you’ve ever cheated on me, Samuel James Watson, I’ll cut off your dick and…and…”
Sam snorted. “And what? Feed it to the lions at the zoo? Why not? Since Kris’ll be tossing them my balls as a snack. That’s what he threatened me with that first night you ran out of here and he and Scott were in the hall. Besides, Scott’s already promised to shove my dick down my throat if I hurt you.”
“Really? That’s so sweet.” She allowed herself a private grin. Looked like both Kris and Scott needed to get a big thank you. Maybe she could set one of them up on a date with Sandy.
“So are we good?” He arched his hips, his erection bumping into her ass. “’Cause I was thinking maybe it was time for some make-up sex.”
She wiggled against him to add to his torment, and hers, but shook her head. “Not yet. I still have a few questions for you.”
“Dang.” He heaved a long suffering sigh. “All right, ask away.”
“I guess my main question is why you hadn’t told me about the club before? I mean, you had to know I would have heard something at the party tonight.”
He shrugged “Never came up. I haven’t been there in a while, and I wasn’t planning on taking you there any time soon.”
She let his evasion slide-maybe taking her there was one of those Freudian things that he’d avoided telling her but knew she’d find out…it was all too complicated. “If I do go to this place, would you expect me to have sex with you out in full view of everyone? Or with another guy at the same time as you?” Damn it, there had to be something wrong with her to be so intrigued by the idea. She thought back to the party, and all the leather pants and…Tawny’s collar, and Sam’s joke about not needing collars and leashes to get him hard. “You’re not going to expect me to parade around on a leash like a dog, are you? Because I have to tell you, I’m not willing to debase myself like that.”
“The Rouge isn’t strictly for Dominants and subs,” he explained patiently. “It can be whatever a member wants it to be. Yes, you’ll see submissives being led around on a leash by their Dominant. Yes, you’ll see public displays of sex, oral and otherwise. But some couples just use it as a way to get away from the kids, the in-laws, you know? They keep what goes on between them behind closed doors.
“And the singles, well, it gets all that will-she-or-won’t-she out of the way. When a member walks in those big red front doors, it’s a given they’re looking for a partner for the night. They can hook up at the public areas just like any bar in D.C.” He paused and she got the feeling he was censoring himself. So what wasn’t he telling her this time? “There are a few rules but mainly as long as it follows the Safe, Sane and Consensual rule, anything goes.”
“So there’s all sorts of kinky stuff going on. Fetish stuff? Like guys who want to lick your feet? Or drip hot wax on you so they can get off?”
He nodded.
Images of Sam wearing the black leather chaps she’d seen him wearing when riding his motorcycle haunted her. What she’d give to see him wear them and nothing else. To feel the cool leather against the back of her thighs while he bent her over a table in front of Thalia or Cooper or… She exhaled slowly, pressing her thighs together to ease the throb in her pussy.
“How does someone even start a club like that? Do you put an ad in the paper or post something on the net saying ‘Hey I like threesomes, let’s meet, we’ll do lunch then we can fuck each other senseless?’ ”
He snorted. “Not exactly.”
Her curiosity got the better of her. “So how did you end up being a founding member?”
“Shit, you want the whole story?”
She nodded and rolled off him, snuggling under his arm.
“Okay.” He scrubbed his hands across his face. “A little over eight years ago, while I was still with the FBI, the Bureau had been tracking a serial killer who targeted members of the scene. It started with two separate incidents in California. The killer shot his victims then ritually mutilated their bodies. When it made the news, police departments in Miami and Chicago realized they’d had similar cases over the previous couple of years. A couple months later, a group were killed in a dungeon scene in Houston that had the same markers. They had a general description of the suspect, and a credible tip that he’d headed here to D.C. The Porte didn’t exist at that time, but there was a fairly active Dungeon scene. Back then there was no membership vetting as such. Anyone could show up at a couple of munches, talk the talk, get an invite to the scene and they’d be let in. No one knew your background or if you were there for the scene or to blackmail someone.
“I remember reading about it in the news. I was in college at the time so I didn’t pay much attention, but I remember being surprised that someone hadn’t been hurt before.”
“These groups are usually pretty good at sniffing out anyone who might cause problems, and they let other groups know of any nutjobs to be wary of. Anyway, Chad was the Supervisory Special Agent in Charge; he decided to send a team in undercover in hopes that we’d find the killer before he struck again.”
“How did they choose you? Or were you already part of the scene?”
“I wasn’t into the scene at the time, but when you apply to the FBI they do a full background check and I guess they learned a few things from a couple old girlfriends. As you’ve already figured out, I was-am-more liberal about sex than most.”
