Bind Me Close: 3 (Knights in Black Leather) (18 page)

* * * * *

Wade met him at two at the club.

“Willow hasn’t returned my calls either, Wade.” Giles drew
water circles with the base of his glass on the bar at the Bravado Club. “I’ve
invited her to dinner. To go riding too. Nada. Zip. She begs off.”

Waves of relief washed over Wade that Willow was declining
the good doctor’s offers. “At least she talks to you.”

“Yeah.” Giles glanced around the cavernous room, the look on
his face declaring how he’d like to be anywhere but there. “I wished she’d do
more.”

Wade nodded, not looking at Giles, not tempting himself to
be an idiot and mouth off at the man about a woman neither one of them seemed
able to predict, let alone control.

“I know you’re probably glad that she’s playing it cool with
me too.”

Wade took a sip of his bourbon, watching his rival in the
wall mirror in front of them. “You could say that.”

“But I’m not. I had hoped that this time when I found a
woman attractive you might back off and give me a good chance at her.”

Wade put his glass to the granite and locked gazes with
Giles. “But I saw her first.”

Giles snorted. “When I saw Marissa first years ago, that
didn’t stop you from messing up my lead.”

“She was interested. Very interested.” Wade loathed
justifying himself to Benedict. Loathed doing it with any man. Another reason
why he never shared a woman except on special occasions. In exhibit. On the
stage. Always only for the minutes onstage. “And she told me nothing about her
relationship with you.”

“Hell, Wade. She hailed from Marfa. She was young, in
college. She knew nothing about Bravado.”

“She didn’t want two men.”

“Not even temporarily, for a few hours of fun,” Wade said,
blowing out a gust of air in resignation. This was getting him nowhere. “Best
get to the reason I called you.”

Giles drew his brows together, a look of feigned horror on
his face. “I thought you were buying me a drink.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Maybe the hell you never are.” Giles wiggled his fingers at
him. “What gives?”

“I know that Willow is interested in you.”

“To say the least.”

Wade sucked in a breath.
Do not ask what that implies.
“I also know she’s up for an exhibit. With two men.”

Giles did not move a muscle.

Wade pursed his lips.
Hell, I hate this sharing shit.
“She tell you that?”

Giles shook his head once. His eyes narrowed like lasers on
Wade.

“She confided in me.”

Giles set his jaw. “And did she say she wanted this with
me?”

“No. When she told me it was early in the week.”

“Before she and I went out.”

“Yes.”

Giles looked relieved. “But now you figure she’s interested
in a threesome?”

“She told me. She told Cara and Samantha. If Willow wants to
party in front of an audience with two men I want her doing it with me. And
you, if that’s what you’d want too.”

“You and I haven’t had that kind of relationship ever.”

Wade stared down into his empty glass. This topic made him
thirstier than he’d ever been in his life. “Maybe that was circumstantial.
Maybe the Marissa fiasco turned us both off from each other. Maybe it’s time to
correct that.”

“Or maybe not. Headline here, Wade. I don’t do exhibits.
Wouldn’t know how.”

“I do.”

“Yeah. You’re the Dom. But you don’t usually do ménage and
in case no one told you lately, your explosion factor over male competition is
big. So thanks but no thanks.”

“It could work. I’d make it work.”

Giles’s face drew down in astonishment. “Motivation is a
great thing, Saxon. But I’m not interested in any more of your sanctimonious
bullshit because of a woman. Marissa was one thing. Brief affair, here for a
summer, gone in the fall. But Willow is different. She’s a woman, no coed.
She’s lovely and bright, responsible and oh, yeah, she might decide to stay.
Might come to live here. And if she does I’m interested in seeing more of her.
If you are too, that’s your concern. But I am not playing any competition
game.”

“I’m not asking you to. The scene would be fun for her.
Equal time for you and me. No top man. No bottom. All square.” He gestured to
accentuate his words.

Giles sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “She must
have really gotten to you.”

“To you too from what I’m hearing here.”

Giles stared at him.

“This would be to satisfy her. Not to play one of us off
against the other.”

“Really? And not to contrast us? The Dom versus the ordinary
guy?”

“No.” Wade had to assure him. “I guarantee that it’s not.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Shall I describe what I have in mind?”

“In detail.”

Wade raised his hand to attract Jed MacRae’s attention. “We
need another round here.”

* * * * *

Proud of herself for dodging talking to Wade and Giles for
the past two days, Willow smiled as she drove home from the Kendall County
Library. Thirty miles away from Bravado, the little town of Boerne in Kendall
sported the best collection of Anglo accounts of children who had been abducted
by the Comanche. None had written about Fancy and Bull Elk but that was okay.
She still got confirmation of many of the ways in which the Comanche had
treated their captives.

She headed off Interstate 10 toward Bravado and her B&B,
tickled she had gotten more work done for her book. In fact she might even have
completed the work and done it within her own deadline. Even with the
distractions of Wade and Giles she’d managed it. The odds had been against her.
Even the history of the Comanche in south Texas was a difficult one to trace
because of lack of records. In fact her family—her extended family of the
Turners, Saxons and MacRaes—were the best primary sources she’d run across. As
for secondary sources, regular history books, she could count those on one
hand.

With reams of notes on yellow pads she grew confident she
now had a work she might be able to write and sell for good money. Out from
under the payments to put her sister through college Willow might even be able
to enjoy new aspects of life.

Like a man?

A man like Wade?

Or Giles?

She muttered to herself about her need for freedom.
How
can I keep my independence if I belong to someone as consuming as Wade Saxon?

Whereas Giles was less dominating. Less demanding.

Could she go for one man permanently?

Or do you need the variety of both?

Her whole body shook with the thrill of that question. She
wallowed in the pleasure of that rush. And just maybe in the way her nipples
beaded and her pussy pulsed, she had her answer too.

Her date tonight to go with Cara and Samantha to the local
club where scenes like ménages could happen only added to her pounding
excitement. She’d never had so much fun in her life before coming to Bravado.
Her lips curved in a giddy smile.

Dreaming of having both Wade and Giles was a fantasy. Sweet
and handsome Giles. Blistering-hot and indomitable Wade.

She turned into the parking space in front of the B&B
and shut off the car. Collecting her briefcase and shoulder purse, she got out
and took the path to the front door of her little casita. She fished for the
key and heard footsteps. Male. Twisting around, she blinked, her key falling to
the pavement.

“Wade?”

“Been waiting for you for hours, sweet thing.”

His eyes looked haunted but his jaw was firm, his words
crisp but so endearing.

“What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

“I’m not ready.”

He sauntered right up to her, jammed a hand in her ponytail,
put another hand to her ass and hauled her against his body. His very aroused
body. “I am.”

She swallowed hard. How could she love the feel of his
possession and yet war with herself over her loss of independence? “Don’t bully
me.”

With a snarl he cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her
cheeks and then he plastered his lips to hers. He kissed her. Oh, god, how he
kissed her. He plunged his tongue into her mouth and tasted every part of her.
He defined the edges of her teeth, probed the languid responses of her own
tongue. She moaned for more of him. He broke away, his hands still framing her
face, his beautiful eyes delving into hers. “Who says I’d do that to you, huh?”

She hung there, smack up against his rigid form and his
probing cock. Without thought she wrapped her arms around him.

He grinned like a bear. “That’s right, darling. Hug me
close.”

She pushed away.

But he yanked her back into his embrace. “Look at me. Admit
you want me any way I want you.”

“That’s not true,” she objected, hating that she sounded
like a little twit and sought to hold her own. “I don’t want you any way. I
want you my way.”

His smile grew feral. “We’re a match then.”

She blew out a gust of air. “I’m not so sure of that.”

He shook her. “I aim to help you figure that out.”

“Smug bastard.” She circled around him and opened her door.
Three feet inside she spun. He stood where she had left him. “All right, all
right! Come in and say your piece like a civilized man. Then you can leave.”

He strolled in, shut the door behind him and faced her.
Hooking his fingers in his belt loops, he seemed like a colossus to her. Barely
tamed, hell-bent on bending her to his will, he zeroed in on her with narrowed
eyes. “I have a proposal for you. If you agree, that is.”

She walked to the far side of the room, depositing her purse
and briefcase down on the desk. Staying as far away from all that appealing
testosterone as she could, she backed up to the desk and crossed one ankle in
front of the other. Her fingertips clutched the rim of the desk for support
against the massive waves of determination rolling off his huge body. “Really?
You want my agreement?”

“Yes ma’am. This doesn’t work if you don’t want it.”

“What doesn’t work?”

“You with me and Giles, all together.”

“Wh-what?” To think about having two men—those two
men—together had been a pipe dream. The crazy kind that did not come true.

“I’m asking you if you’d like to take a ride on a fantastic
voyage. Go to the Bravado Club with Giles Benedict and me and offer up a
spectacle for the members.”

Her mouth worked. Her mind didn’t.

He went dead serious. “It’s what you said you craved. I want
to give it to you.”

“When?”
Did I have the balls to ask that?

“Name the day.”

“Day?”

“Day. Night. Time. Circumstances. What you want. What you
won’t tolerate.”

A portion of her gray matter clicked on and in the white
light of reality she knew she did want this. This excitement. This stunning
possibility to stand before…oh my, how many people? And she would have sex with
two men in front of others? A wash of delight rushed through her. She was cool,
calm, collected. Powerful.

“Okay.” She licked her lips. “Saturday. Can we do this
tomorrow night?” Her thoughts trailed off with a spike in her anxiety that she
could actually agree to this. But she had to, didn’t she? This was satisfying
herself. Her needs. Her wants. Not denying herself. Not any longer. She had no
reason to be careful and bored. Small in aspirations. Hollow without sensual or
emotional satisfactions. “I might be leaving Sunday or Monday…”

“Tomorrow night it is, then.”

“Nine o’clock?”

He nodded. “Nine.”

“I want both of you. Only the three of us. No other women.”

He gave a small laugh. “Why would we want another one?”

Her pussy thrummed with delight at his words. Choked with
emotion she gave him a watery smile. “I don’t want any anal intercourse.”

“Done.”

Oh, lord. How would she satisfy two men with regular sex?
Was she nuts? Or just too damn vanilla for any of this? Well, he had offered
this. She’d take it. It might be the only time in all her life when she had the
gumption. So she asked for more.

“I want bondage. No knives. No fire play.”

“Fine. Anything else?”

How simple had that been? Every cell in her body quivered
with expectation. Wade, the way she wanted him, hers and hers alone. With
Giles.

“Two things you must do,” he told her. “No mask. You come as
who you are.”

Everyone there would learn who she was, if they didn’t know
already. Okay. She had no idea why that appealed to Wade but she’d go along.
“What else?”

“No masturbating before the big event. I want you hungry and
purring by the time you get there.”

Jumping out of my skin?
“Agreed.”

“We’re set then.” She walked to the door and bid him
goodbye.

As he passed her he chucked her under the chin. “Take care,
sweet thing.” He leaned over her and brushed her lips with his.

She thought he’d kiss her then. Instead the damn man bit her
lower lip.

As he walked out, chuckling, she slammed the door shut
behind him.

Only when she heard him drive away did she strip out of her
clothes and make a beeline for her shower. A cold one.

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning,” Skye told Willow. “I’m so
excited.”

“I’m happy you’ve got the interview.” Willow switched her
phone to her other ear, toying with the butterfly mask she’d worn the night
before when she had gone to the Bravado Club with Sam and Cara. The visit had
been everything she’d imagined. Actually more. It had been an education to
watch men and women discarding their clothes and their egos, trading them for a
deeper emotional experience. She’d seen bondage that thrilled her, fire play
that entranced her. Shibari that intrigued her. Women who submitted to men and
swooned at the exchange of power. Men who did the same with their female Dommes
and enjoyed the transfer. In each scene she’d witnessed how wholly one trusted
the other to never hurt them, never betray them.

She wanted that vital quality in her own loving
relationship.

“Are you still there, Willow?”

“Yes, here, honey.” She sank onto the edge of her bed and
squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to welcome Skye to this very unique
town. What terrible timing for her sister to land in Bravado the morning after
her exhibition with Wade and Giles. Willow knew she’d be exhausted physically.
Maybe emotionally too. But she would never deny Skye this. The young woman
needed a job, and if she wanted to come check out the town before she had her
interview Monday for the teaching position, the best time for her to arrive was
tomorrow. “Your grades were spectacular but they’ll love your personality.”

“Thanks, Sis. You’re the greatest. I’ll leave early.”

“Not too early, please,” Willow begged off. “Plan to get
here by noon, I’ll take your to lunch. Show you around.”

“Got a hot date tonight?”

Perceptive kid. “And if I do?”

“I’d say it’s about damn time.”

“Ha ha. I can still wash your mouth out with soap.”

“Oh, you talk big but you’re such a softie.”

“Don’t test me.” Willow let a smile creep into her voice.
“One recommendation.”

“Yep. What?”

“Bring a dress for your interview.”

“Aw, come on, girl. This is Texas.”

“And you are interviewing for a nice little job as a teacher
to second-graders. Look the part.”

“School marm, huh?”

“Beats Cowgirl of the Year. No jeans. No Western shirts.
Save it for after school.”

“Okay, got it, Mom.” She sighed. “I’ll be happy to leave
here.”

Willow caught a note of wistfulness in Skye’s delicate voice.
“Why? What’s going on?”

“Grayson texted me again yesterday.”

“Oh, no. I hope you didn’t text him back.” She let the
question hang in her tone. “He can’t commit, Skye. Leave him to live alone.
He’s yanked you back and forth for more than a year. Besides, if he ever got
his act together and decided he was ready to be exclusive with you, you are too
young to settle down.”

“Twenty-two is not young.”

“No? By my standards it is.” Willow stroked the multicolored
feathers of Sam’s club mask. “The world is full of men who can’t seem to put a
ring on it. So let them live alone, looking for love in all the wrong places.”

Skye remained silent.

“You still there?”

“I am, Sis. I hear some conflict in your voice. What’s
happening with you there?”

Willow brought her up-to-date on her research and then
stopped cold.

“You’ve met a man?” Skye probed, her tone joyous. “Tell me.”

“Two.”

Skye was once more dead quiet.

“I like them both, for different reasons.”

“Of course. So what is your problem?”

If she told her very pretty younger sister what she was
about to do with two men she cared for—hell, with two men she had already slept
with—would she set an example? One Skye might want to duplicate? Skye might
come to town and think she could and should do the same kind of hook-up. That,
Willow would caution her against. The idea of making love or having sex with
two men already tore at her own serenity even as it excited her beyond belief.

“Do want to talk about it?” Skye persisted, then in the
silence, sighed. “Okay, I get it. I’m too young to understand. But you have to
give me some credit for having a brain, Willow. You and I have lived together
too long, making the best of each other’s lives. I can deal, Willow. I can
deal.”

“I hear you. I—I like both men, Skye. A lot. One more than
the other. But I have been alone so long, in charge of my own life for so many
years that I like my independence. I like how I am.”

“I hope you’re not going to give me that old saw about how
you don’t want to be absorbed into some man’s life. That he’d demand this and
that and you’d have to change for him.”

“Well, actually—” Some men could be so demanding that they
could be a threat.

“Come on, lady. You are old enough and wise enough to know
better. You’d ask him, you’d influence him to change too. I know you would.”

“You have a lot of trust in me,” Willow said with a laugh.

“I do. I have trusted you all my life. Now, darling woman,
it is time to trust yourself.”

Willow blinked. Holding up the mask of rainbow colors before
her eyes, she smiled at the event she was about to embark on. Filled with
enthusiasm for the night ahead of her she appreciated her sister’s insight. “I
do believe you got that just right.”

“Good. I’m off to work.”

“The dinner shift? That’s new.”

“Tips are better. I’ve gotta run. Whatever you are doing
tonight you have fun, you hear me?”

“I will,” Willow agreed, standing up and posing this way and
that in front of the mirror so that she could admire how the bustier and
panties hugged her generous curves.

“See you around noon tomorrow. Be rested. Better yet, be
happy. Bye.” Skye clicked off.

Willow tossed her cell on the bed and did another turn in
the mirror. Not bad. Pretty sexy actually. And tonight she’d see more of how
the Bravado Club ran. Who came. Who was into bondage and knives. And
exhibitionism.

Someone knocked at her door.

She strode over, looked through the peephole and swung the
door wide. “Wade? What are you—”

She was rushed off her feet, curled in his arms, plunked
down on her mattress. Then he kissed her.

Silly with his surprise and his ardor she giggled and curled
her legs around his thighs. “Oh, Wade, wow.” Her words came out muffled by his
attention to her lips and the probe of his demanding tongue. His kisses ignited
her more each time he bestowed them. “What are you doing?”

He pulled back, his gaze hooded with desire—and was that
determination too?

“Wade?”

He reached down and grasped one of her feet. Lifting her
leg, he bent and bit a toe then the edge of her heel. Fiend. She wiggled, her
pussy gushing. Moaning, he scored her calf, her thigh with his teeth. Her skin
flamed, her nails dug into his biceps. Frantic to have more from him she arched
against him. God, he was hard. And silent. He cupped her breasts and laved the
tops with his rough tongue. Her girls tingled and hardened. How much fun this
man was.

He cupped her jaw and nipped her earlobe, then in one push
he stood.

And walked out the door.

Slamming it behind him.

Dazed, she lay like a sacrificial lamb on the mattress and
stared at the ceiling. Her grin grew to laughter. She’d just been ravished and
prepared for what she hoped was the best night of her sexual life.

* * * * *

The club was packed. Whether she’d just not noticed a crowd
last night when she had visited, or she was just eager to know who’d watch her
tonight, she couldn’t say.

But she was determined to enjoy all that happened here.

The appreciative looks she got for her outfit made her heart
race. A few men stood at the bar, watching her approach in the mirror. One man
walked toward her but another yanked on his sleeve, holding him back. That one
she knew. She racked her brain trying to figure out just who he was. Had she
seen him the other night at the restaurant when she went out with Giles? Why
would he pull his buddy to hold him back from talking to her?

Wow. That certainly appealed to her ego.
Flatter me, do.

She felt lightheaded. Glanced around and saw that other men
had the same set of actions. One would take a step toward her. Another would
grab him back.

That interest, that restraint of those who were attracted to
her made her suspicious that someone had issued instructions about tonight.
Did
Wade do that?

She tingled.

Had to be Wade. Giles wouldn’t ask other men to keep away
from her.

But Wade would.

She strolled to the bar, fished dollar bills from her
bustier and put them to the black granite. “Gin and tonic,” she told Will
MacRae, who worked as bartender tonight.

With a lopsided grin, he nodded at her and winked at her
outfit. A little thrill ran up her spine.

He set her drink in front of her and she took a good
swallow. He hadn’t put any booze in there. Her gaze met his and she realized
with his wink that she wasn’t supposed to drink alcohol tonight. She was the
main attraction and she’d not be dulled by gin to enjoy it. Okay. She could get
into that.

She swirled to rest her elbows on the bar, one high-heeled
shoe hooked in the brass boot rail. Her breasts stood out in this pose, big and
bold. Ready for whatever came her way.

But no man did. They smiled, they nodded, they elbowed their
buddies and inclined their heads her way. They ogled her, eating up every inch
of exposed skin and imagining what lay beneath the elaborate costume. But they
didn’t touch.

And her pussy swelled in want. Needing Giles and Wade, she
fought the impulse to rub her thighs together. Relief was not on the menu here.
Not yet.

Where were her two men?

At once the crowd before her parted like the Red Sea. There,
straight in front of her stood Giles. Blond, buff, in a flowing white shirt and
fitted breeches he looked like a rogue from another century. His gaze swirled
over her as he walked toward her. Swallowing hard, she waited for his touch,
his kiss, his possession. Her nipples blossomed like happy flowers, her channel
gushed with appreciation.

She thought he’d wrap her in his arms. Kiss her.

But no. He stood there a long moment then strode forward and
caught her around the waist, hoisted her high, her head hanging down, and
carried her like a damn pirate’s prize toward the far stage.

If he portrayed a buccaneer or a rogue she welcomed both.
“What do you want me to do?”

No one had given her instructions.

For answer Giles spun her to the audience. He massaged her
neck with one hand, pulled her back into his embrace and kissed her nape. Her
mouth fell open and to her shock he popped a ball gag in her mouth. When she
gasped he pinched her arm as if in warning. She understood. She nodded. Okay.
She could go with this. She could.

But where was Wade?

Giles steadied her on her feet then wrapped a silken tie
around her mouth. All right. She could wear the gag but damn if she could
promise to be quiet. If she wanted to moan she would. To hell with being too
damn compliant. As long as Giles kept caressing her she knew thankfully she
wouldn’t be complacent.

Giles ran his hands through her upswept hair, destroying her
careful updo and combing the lengths of her waves out over her shoulders and
down over the swell of her breasts. He lingered over her nipples, defining the
circumferences until they practically poked through the heavy sequined
material. She cleared her throat, her sound one of hunger and appeal for more
affection.

With smooth caresses of his fingertips he defined the curve
of her waist, the flow of her hips, the length of one thigh and calf only to
come up the inside of that leg and down the other. At his deliberation she
wanted to applaud.

But he moved to the hooks of her bustier in the back and
slowly with deliberate pops, undid them, one by one in torturous delay. At the
last one the skintight garment fell away from her breasts, landing on the floor
in a thud. The heavy, heaving globes of her 40Ds swayed as they fell free of
the stays. In the audience someone groaned his appreciation.

She quaked with delight, arching a bit higher to show off
her two beauties. This was what she had craved. People to enjoy what she had,
if only from afar. She grinned, proud of herself that she’d had the guts to ask
for this public display.

Giles was doing brisk work of unzipping her blue satin
pants, beneath which there was only…skin.

She froze.

Stop being a ninny.

She’d asked for this.

Now everyone gets to see me, not just my pussy but my
bare one.

Giles yanked the silk down her hips and her pants fell to
the floor.

She heard a rustle in the audience.

She gulped. Damn, they were so disciplined.
More than I
am!

Giles lifted one foot and she stepped out of her garment
that lay on the floor. Pulling her arms behind her, he pressed his beautifully
aroused body against her ass. She squeezed her cheeks, trying to cup his
package. No use. He pulled back. But with one hand circling her two wrists, he
wrapped a silken cloth around one, then the other. She braced her feet, giving
the audience a small smile of satisfaction.

Then he pushed her to her knees.

That she hadn’t expected. Not from Giles.

But she took it, excitement rippling through her. She heard
the swish of more fabric. What was that?

Her sight went black.

Ah. A blindfold. That too was welcome. New. She’s never made
love deprived of one of her senses.

From the far corner of the performance stage she heard
footsteps. Heavy. Booted. But the crack of a whip made her jump.

No. She had never said she’d agree to a whipping. A
spanking, yes, but not—