Page 16 of The Player's Club
“Serena told me,” I said, my voice gruff.
“Serena?”
The note of jealousy in her tone made me grin. “Serena is one of the owners. You should’ve met her. She handles all of the paperwork for new folks.”
“Oh.” Elodie let out a laugh. “I’m not sure she told me her name when she made me sign away my firstborn.”
“That’s her, all right. Don’t worry, she intimidates the fuck out of everyone. I probably should’ve warned you about that. Nobody gets in here without that initiation.”
Elodie shot me a surprised look. “She intimidates even you?”
“Me? Hell, yes. And she’s not even a dominatrix. She’s actually asexual.”
Elodie blinked, then burst out laughing. “That’s amazing. She owns a sex club but has no interest in sex? I guess that’d make it easy to keep things professional.”
“It’s a bit like a baker being allergic to sugar, but sure, I guess so.” I leaned closer, letting myself inhale the scent of citrus and honey that seemed to cling to Elodie’s skin. “But what about you? You’re not . . . allergic to sugar, are you?”
She sucked in a quick breath. “Nooooooo.”
“Did you have fun the last time you were here?” Although I wanted to know, a part of me also didn’t want to hear the answer. I clenched my fist under the table as I waited for Elodie’s reply.
“I just wandered. I also got some advice from a dominatrix named Delilah. She was really nice,” said Elodie.
“That’s it?” I let my fist unclench. “You didn’t let yourself indulge?”
“I mean, I watched a few rooms.” A blush crept up Elodie’s cheeks. “The ones anybody can watch.”
“Tell me.”
She squirmed in her seat, which was fucking adorable. I turned her face back toward me since she kept looking everywhere but at me.
“You’re not in trouble,” I joked, stroking her jaw. “Unless you want to be,” I added, my voice dropping low.
“Oh. No. Of course.” She played with a strand of her hair. “Um, let’s see, I saw a few different things . . .”
Elodie then gave me a detailed account of every room she watched, including one with professor/student role-play that I had the sudden, desperate urge to try with her.I got the impression that she liked to be dominated. This felt too good to be true.
A fantasy played out in my head. The thought of Student Elodie bemoaning her low grades, with me telling her there was an easy way to make that nasty F go away. She’d blush and pretend not to get it, but when I reached under her skirt, I’d find her wet. It wouldn’t be long before I was bending her over a desk, her skirt bunched to her waist, her pussy dripping with desire as I thrust into her . . .
My cock was as hard as iron at the mere thought.
“What was your favorite?” I asked.
“Favorite?” She licked her lips, which made my cock twitch. “I don’t know, but the BDSM probably caught my attention the most.”
“Because it was strange?”
“Yes but no. Something was extra sexy about seeing another person in complete control of someone. There has to be a lot of trust built there to surrender yourself like that.”
God, it was like she was speaking a language only I understood. It was intoxicating. Does this mean she’d be interested . . .?
It was too much to hope for. There’d been other women I’d thought would want to be my sub, but when push came to shove, they’d balked.
Getting loosely tied up and spanked a few times was one thing. Getting hung from the ceiling while you got whipped, your nipples clamped, and your body aching with pleasure? That was another thing entirely. And with Elodie, I could see wanting it all.
But first things first. Just because I was attracted to her didn’t mean she’d make a good partner. I reminded myself that I knew fuck-all about her.
“The thing I like about this place,” I said, “is that privacy is extremely important. Serena doesn’t fuck around with the NDA.”