Sir's Redemption (Doms of Decadence Book 8) Read online

  He’d never suggested they take things further, and neither had she. Too scared she’d be rejected. Too worried he’d learn the full truth.

  “What sort of job? Are you going to quit Foley’s?”

  “No, I like it there. This is just a one-time job.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me about this?”

  Evade. Evade.

  “I really did think I’d make it here on time. I’m really sorry I worried you, Sir.”

  He stood stiffly, and for a moment she thought he was going to turn away from her. Then she heard him sigh.

  “When you didn’t answer me, and I realized I had no idea where you were, I imagined all sorts of horrible things. I thought you might have had an accident or been hurt or that you were ill.”

  Good one, Kinley.

  She opened her mouth to tell him the full truth when he grabbed hold of her hand and turned, tugging her towards the club.

  “I’ve got to lock my car,” she protested.

  He stilled and held out his hand imperiously. She bit back her protest. He was in full Dom mode, and it wouldn’t do her well to argue about the small things. The things he liked to do for her that didn’t cost her anything and made her feel cared for, protected, and safe.

  He quickly secured the doors of her old Honda, easily conquering the tricky lock, then pocketed her keys.

  Okay, that wasn’t cool.

  He took her hand again and drew her away.

  “Um, Sloan?”

  He grunted. It wasn’t a good sign when he reverted to noises instead of words.

  She licked her dry lips as they entered the club. They walked past Tamati, the huge Maori bouncer had gorgeous, coffee-colored and a big swirling, green tattoo worked its way over his right arm, sneaking under the sleeve of his black, tight-fitting T-shirt.

  The man was sex on a stick, and she’d have to be a saint not to notice. Still, probably best not to rouse Sloan’s ire with any obvious looks of admiration. It wasn’t that she was interested in Tamati. That man would gobble her up and look for more. The only man who truly stirred her was Sloan.

  To the disappointment of all the single subs at the club, Tamati never played. Ever. She didn’t know if it was because he was a bouncer here and didn’t mix work with pleasure. Or because he had a sub back home, locked up in his dungeon, waiting to cater to his every dark, dangerous wish. She shivered. Yeah, she’d been listening to the other subs too much. All the unattached subs, male and female, had attempted to catch his attention in one way or another. None had succeeded.

  Of course, that only served to make him more interesting and attractive. Kinley was too old to get silly over a man. Or to be taken by a man’s appearance. But he sure was pretty to look at.

  “Evening, Kinley. Good to see you made it here safely. Everything okay? You need any help?”

  Sloan stilled then turned to look down at her. Then he glared at Tamati. The other man just stared back, calmly.

  Kinley gaped at Tamati. Couldn’t he see Sloan was on edge? Why was he goading him? Tamati had barely said more than a handful of words to her since he’d started working here three months ago and this was the moment he chose to speak up?

  His dark-brown eyes focused on where Sloan held her in his grasp. Did he actually think Sloan might hurt her?

  “She’s fine,” Sloan told him in a low, menacing voice.

  “I asked her,” Tamati replied mildly.

  Oh, no. No, no, no.

  Never one to back down from a challenge, especially when he was already angry, Sloan took a step towards the other man.

  Shit. What could she do? Would they get into an argument? Surely not. They were both rational men. Too smart to fight over . . . over nothing. Sloan’s hands were clenched into fists. Maybe if he’d been calm, he’d have been able to resist the challenge. Maybe if he hadn’t spent the last hour stressed and worried, he could have laughed it off and walked away.

  But right now, he was looking for a way to relieve all that stress, and Tamati was providing him with an outlet. She looked at the other man, assessing his intent. Was that what he was doing? Did he think Sloan would unleash some of that anger on her, so he was redirecting it? But why would he care?

  Maybe because he’s the bouncer, Kinley. Duh.

  She needed to defuse this situation. Now.

  “Just checking on Kinley. She looks a little stressed, and you seem more than a bit angry. Anger has no place in the club.”

  “Are you implying I’d hurt my sub? My sub.”

  “I don’t believe I was implying anything,” Tamati said calmly. “I believe I was asking Kinley if she was all right and if she needed any help. You’ve got a face like thunder and you had a damn tight hold on her arm. Any decent man would have asked the same.”

  “I would never harm her!” Sloan half-roared, making her wince.

  Tamati didn’t even flinch.

  “I don’t know you and I can only go by what I see.”

  A couple walked in behind Tamati and came to a stop. The man immediately pushed the woman behind his back, watching the two men warily.

  Sloan took a step forward.

  She had to do something. She stepped towards them when someone grabbed hold of her shoulder from behind. She jumped, turning to see Mace, on of Club Decadence’s managers frowning down at her.

  “I hope you weren’t planning on getting in between those two,” he said in a stern voice.

  “No, of course not,” she said defensively.

  Mace just made a derisive noise. “Sloan? Tamati? We have a problem here?”

  “No, sir,” Tamati said. “Just checking that Kinley was all right.”

  “Hmm, she’s over an hour late and didn’t bother to contact her Dom to tell him she was all right. He’s been understandably worried about her.” There was a note of censure in his voice.

  Great, did the whole club know she was late? Sloan had probably been pacing the floor like a caged bear.

  She looked at Sloan, who’d taken a few steps back and was now looking calmer. Tamati grimaced. “Sorry, bro, didn’t realize.”

  Sloan sighed. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. You were looking out for my sub. That’s your job. I was just looking to get rid of some of my aggravation.”

  Tamati nodded and gave her a chiding look. Jeez, what was this? Kick Kinley day? She already felt bad enough.

  “Sloan, maybe you should take a minute with Kinley before entering the dungeon.” Mace nodded his head over at the lounge area. It was currently empty. Later, it would be filled with people relaxing after their play.

  “I’ll reserve you a spanking bench, shall I?” Mace asked.

  “Thank you,” Sloan said solemnly while Tamati nodded.

  Jeez, now it seemed they were all bonding over her discipline. Wonderful.

  2

  Sloan slipped an arm around her waist and led her over to the empty lounging area off the main entrance. It was a place to unwind and give aftercare. She loved curling up while Sloan took care of her. Having Sloan’s focus on her made her feel special. Wanted.

  He led her to a dark gray, well-padded sofa.

  “Sit.”

  She sat with a sigh, resisting the urge to tell him she wasn’t a dog. She wasn’t quite in a submissive mindset yet. He walked behind the bar and returned with a glass of water. She raised an eyebrow.

  “You look tired and you’re pale.”

  Wow. She was glad she’d bothered with that crappy makeup.

  Sloan always put her needs first. It was one of the things she loved most about him. She swallowed heavily at that thought. Did she love Sloan? Maybe. If it wasn’t love, it was something close. She wished she knew how he felt. He didn’t like to talk about his feelings. He preferred to show how he felt through actions. She pushed that thought aside; she’d deal with it another day. Maybe one day she’d have the guts to make herself vulnerable and tell him.

  She trusted him not to hurt her physically, but emotionally it was an entirely different story. Eddie had really done a number on her.

  She reached out to take the glass, but he pulled it away with a frown, then held it up to her mouth. She blushed. She wasn’t a child. She opened her mouth to protest but then she saw the look on his face. He needed this right now. And it was a small thing she could do for him that cost her nothing. She drank a few sips. It was ice cold, and she started to feel a little better.

  He eyed her critically. “Have you eaten tonight?”

  She refrained from telling him that she could afford to skip a meal or two. Kinley wasn’t stupid. She already had one punishment coming, she didn’t want to add to it.

  “Yes.”

  “What did you eat?”

  A warm feeling grew in her stomach. Much as she might protest or pretend to be annoyed, she liked that he fussed. She’d really messed up by not telling him she might not be on time. God, she couldn’t lose him. Kinley hated feeling so desperate, so scared he’d leave her. Like everyone else.

  “I’m waiting for an answer,” he said mildly. Too mildly. He was angry. She needed to help him calm down. She knew one surefire way to soothe him. She glanced down at his crotch. He had a magnificent cock, and she really loved when he ordered her to her knees. “Kinley,” he said in a warning voice, although she heard a hint of amusement. “Look at me.”

  She glanced up.

  “Do I want to know what you’re thinking?”

  She licked her lips. “Maybe.”

  He huffed out a chuckle then shook his head. “I’m mad.”

  Relief filled her. He might be annoyed at her, but he’d lost that cold, quiet tone.

  “I know, I’m really sorry for worrying you.” Because that’s where all his ire stemmed from. His fear for her.

  “You still don’t look right,” he commented. He placed a big, rough hand over her forehead. The warmth of his palm was a stark contrast to her chilled skin.

  “You’re cold.”

  “Poor circulation,” she quipped.

  “You ate something for dinner?”

  She nodded. “I did. I promise.” If ramen noodles counted as dinner.

  She let out a quiet breath. “I’m fine, really. I just had a long week, that’s all.”

  He nodded then held out his hand. She slipped her much smaller one into his calloused grasp. She loved his hands. They were huge, rough, and tanned. Strong and capable. They made her feel safe. “Where are we going?” she asked suspiciously as they walked towards the lounge exit. Somehow, she got the feeling he wasn’t taking her into the dungeon.

  “I’m taking you home and putting you to bed.”

  That should have sounded sexy . . . except she knew she hadn’t earned any pleasure. Not before her punishment anyway, which meant he was going to do exactly as he’d stated.

  Exactly.

  She tugged on his hand, coming to a stop. He immediately stilled and turned to look at her.

  Before Kinley met him, Sloan had an incident with one of Roarke’s subs, Ava. He’d been tricked into thinking she was someone else. Someone who wanted to be forced to submit. He’d scared her, and it had taken him a long time to get over that. Kinley still didn’t think he’d forgiven himself.

  Sloan was a big guy. He could use force if he wanted to. So, he was very careful not to.

  “I don’t need to go home to bed.”

  “You’re exhausted.”

  “I’m fine. I just needed a minute to take a breath. That’s all.”

  “You’re pale.”

  “I’m a redhead. I’m naturally pale.”

  “There are dark circles under your eyes.”

  Exasperated now, she placed her hands on her hips. “Anything else you want to add? Obviously, I need to make more of an effort with my makeup.”

  She reached up and pinched her cheeks. He grabbed hold of both her hands and pulled them down.

  “Don’t do that. You’re as gorgeous as ever.”

  She was? Warmth filled her. She smiled up at him. He wasn’t good with words, but what he said, he meant.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a stern look. “Doesn’t matter how many sexy looks you give me, I’m not changing my mind.”

  She was giving him a sexy look? She filed that away for future reference. She pouted slightly. “I want to play.”

  “We play, and you’ll be getting your ass heated. You’re owed a punishment.”

  She bit her lip. She was no masochist. She didn’t want a spanking or whatever else he had in mind. But she knew he’d look after her. Then he’d take her home and cuddle her all night. He might even give her some relief for this overwhelming need filling her. And, most importantly, she knew he’d forgive her.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “I’m not playing while you’re exhausted.”

  She huffed out an impatient breath. “You’re too overprotective.”

  “Yep,” he agreed without apology.

  “Sloan, I don’t want to start off the weekend with you angry at me. I messed up. I scared you. I was thoughtless. If I go home to bed now, I’m not going to sleep. All I’m going to do is lie there wondering what you’re going to do to me, how angry you are at me, and if I’ve caused a rift between us. If you punish me now, then it’s over and done with.”

  She wasn’t lying. She would spend the night worrying, and he knew it.

  He eyed her for a moment. “A test.”

  Huh?

  “Take off your coat,” he demanded.

  He used that voice. The one guaranteed to put her into a submissive frame of mind. It was low, rumbly, and full of command. And she’d obeyed him before she even realized it. Desire to please him filled her. He stared at her, his gaze hungry.

  It never failed to amaze her he thought her gorgeous. That out of all the women he could have, he wanted her. He’d chosen her.

  “Go bend over the sofa, ass in the air, hands resting on the cushions.”

  “Here?”

  His brows lowered, and he gave her “the look.”

  Sensibly, she scurried to obey him. When he looked at her like that, she knew she’d damn well better obey or she’d be in trouble. Well, more trouble.

  So, she bent over the back of the couch. At five eight, she wasn’t short but even she had to go up on tiptoes to rest her hands on the sofa cushions. Had no one thought of that when they’d ordered them? Or maybe they had. The high-backed sofas not only provided some privacy but could put a sub off-balance as they perched over them.

  She wouldn’t put it past whomever had designed the interior to have chosen every piece of furniture with a dual purpose in mind. Doms were sneaky like that.

  Sloan moved up behind her, clasping her hips and lifting her. His casual show of strength made her gasp. Kinley was not a small person, but Sloan shifted her around like she didn’t weigh a thing. Butterflies filled her stomach as she realized he’d moved her into a far more vulnerable position, her feet dangling uselessly in the air.

  Sloan raised her short skirt up over her bottom. She’d found this leather-like skirt in a thrift store and had snapped it up. It was a little tight, but Sloan seemed to like it.

  He sucked in a breath. “What the hell is this?” He pulled at her panties.

  Oh, yeah . . . whoops.

  “I didn’t want to drive with no underwear on,” she told him, looking over her shoulder at him. “What if I’d been in an accident? What would the paramedics think?”

  “I’d hope they’d be thinking about helping you, not worrying about what the fuck you’re wearing.” He had an offended look on his face, and she sighed. She guessed if the paramedics could get past the short, black skirt and yellow corset she was wearing, having no underwear on wouldn’t come as much of a shock.

  Sloan gave her a hard slap on the ass. “Wait here.”

  Like she was going anywhere. But she wisely kept that quip to herself. She had a healthy sense of self-preservation, after all.

  She turned her head to watch him walk behind the small bar. When he returned, he held a small knife in his hand.

  “Sloan, I’ll take them off,” she said hastily.

  He’d never insisted she call him Sir. He didn’t sweat the small stuff. Although, he did seem to have an unnatural dislike of underwear. On her.

  “No, you had that chance. You know my rule; no panties when we’re playing.”

  He moved behind her.

  She groaned. “But these are my good panties.” He paused with the knife pressing coldly against her flushed skin.

  “You have good panties?”

  He was such a man. Of course, she had good underwear. These ones didn’t have holes or pulls and they were a pretty lace, not plain cotton.

  “Yes. And these are them. Please, can they be saved?”

  He sighed. A long, drawn out sound that made her smile, though she didn’t let him see it.

  But instead of slicing them, he pulled her panties down off her legs.

  “I’d have bought you more.”

  “You would come to a lingerie shop with me?” she questioned.

  “Of course not.” He rubbed one hand over her bare cheek “I’d have given you my card.”

  She rolled her eyes. And wouldn’t that have made her feel like a kept woman. And a bit ridiculous.

  Both hands were now rubbing her ass, pausing every so often to squeeze the full globes. Damn, she loved a good ass massage. Made her go all gooey inside. A hot, melting sort of gooey. Her clit throbbed, her nipples pressing against the tight corset she wore.

  He suddenly smacked his hand down on her right cheek. Then the left. She let out a low moan as he rubbed the heat in. Just as the pain was morphing into something more pleasurable, he struck again. Four smacks this time, one after the other. They weren’t overly harsh, but Kinley didn’t have a high tolerance for pain. Already her butt was stinging, her skin almost too sensitive for the massage he gave her after. Besides, now she knew to be wary. The seductive touch of his hands would soon be followed by—

  Smack!

  Six spanks this time, and tears flooded her eyes. She could feel his displeasure in each tap of his palm against her ass. Her cheeks throbbed, and one of those tears slipped free. More because she was disappointed in herself than anything else. Disappointed and scared.

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