McKenzie, Cooper - A Club Esoteria Christmas [Club Esoteria 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read online

  “Whatever you wish, Master.”

  Chapter 2

  Two weeks later

  Sinclair Malone looked down at her outfit and then at the man who had chosen it for her to wear. He had even helped her into it after they shared a shower and thoroughly washed each other’s backs, fronts, and other bits and pieces, though he refused either of them the pleasure of an orgasm. The black dress was short, sexy, and when worn without a bra as he demanded every time they went to the club, showed a lot more skin than she was comfortable with.

  Even though they had been dating more seriously and talking on a regular basis, she still felt hesitant about spending too much time at Club Esoteria where her boyfriend and Master, Jackson Matthews, worked as a bartender when his firefighter schedule permitted.

  “Are you sure this is appropriate? I’m just going to be serving drinks, right?”

  “Yes, sunshine. You are going to serve drinks to the guests and maybe find yourself on your knees getting a protein shake of your own,” Jackson threatened as he slid his hand the length of his half-hard cock before he pulled on a pair of black jeans.

  “And they’re not going to make me get up and sing or dance or strip for the crowd, are they? You said there was going to be a talent show.”

  “No, you are there to be a server, not part of the talent for the evening. If anyone bothers you…”

  “…just come behind the bar with me,” she finished in unison with him.

  Sinclair crossed the room to be within touching distance of the man who she had learned six months earlier liked to be in charge of their loving. They were not into the BDSM lifestyle as deeply as others who would be at the club tonight were, but they did enjoy playing out scenes on occasion. Others would laugh at them as being too vanilla if they knew, but they were happy with their little adventures.

  She had never submitted to anyone until Jackson, and found that she did not mind letting him be the dominant in their relationship. She was submissive by life’s training and experience, though he kept pushing her to be bolder. She tried to be strong and forceful and in charge of her life and occasionally their loving, but she preferred for him to take control and guide their loving.

  He had been threatening for weeks to tie her down and stroke her with a feather until she agreed to marry him. Just the thought of the sensual torture made her skin crawl in reaction even as she creamed her panties with excitement.

  But tonight she wore no panties to hide her excitement. All she wore was the little black dress and a pair of knee-high black stiletto-heeled boots that she would shed as soon as they entered the club. She was, after all, Jackson’s submissive for the evening and as such would not be allowed to wear shoes in the club’s main rooms.

  “Where is your collar, sunshine?” Jackson asked as he sat to pull on his socks and cowboy boots.

  “Collar?”

  “You know, that sexy little red collar that marks you as off-limits to everyone but your Master. Where is it?”

  “Oh, yeah, that collar.”

  Sinclair opened the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out the thin strip of leather. Carrying it, she knelt before him and lifted her hair up so he could secure it into place around her neck. Once he finished, she dropped her hair so that the sandy brown strands flowed halfway down her back.

  “Are you sure I should wear my hair down?”

  “As your Master, I deem you will always wear your hair down in my presence. It’s so beautiful and sexy,” he said combing his fingers through the strands before massaging her scalp for a moment.

  He then slid both hands to the back of her neck and pulled her to her feet. Holding her in place between widespread legs, he used one hand to pull the spaghetti straps down her arms until top of her dress fell out of his way. His other hand slid up the inside of one leg to cup her pussy.

  She locked her knees to remain upright when her knees threatened to fold under his touch. He suckled each breast for a moment while his fingertips slid up and down her slit, spreading her juices all around. When she was about to say to hell with the party and strip them both again, he pulled his fingers from between her legs and rearranged the top of her dress so her breasts were again once covered.

  “Okay, sweet Sinclair, let’s go. But remember where I was because before midnight we’ll be finishing what you just tried to start.”

  He stood and guided her toward the front door.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” he said, slapping one ass cheek before wrapping her fluffy black shawl around her shoulders. “You are always starting these blazes I have to put out.”

  Sinclair giggled as she said good night to Max, her liver-colored cocker spaniel, as they walked out the front door. She then allowed him to take her hand and lead her to his pickup truck.

  * * * *

  “Where the hell is he?” Jenna Carter asked for the hundredth time in the past three days. “He was supposed to be back here three days ago. When he does finally show up, I’m going to…going to…oh, hell, I don’t know what I’m going to do to him.”

  “Mistress, he’ll be here. He wouldn’t miss the party,” Gentry Michaels assured her, hoping to calm his Domme. “Why don’t we go downstairs now? Maybe seeing your friends will help the time pass.”

  He stepped in close enough that if she wanted, he would hold her. Otherwise, he was there for her to smack if she so desired. Though he had learned how to calm her, he knew he did not have Antony’s magic touch that could settle her within seconds.

  As he knew she would, Mistress Jenna closed the distance between them, walking into his body and laying her cheek on his bare chest. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her the hug he instinctively knew she needed. It was times like these that he was most grateful for Antony bringing him home and convincing both him and Jenna that a two-slave-and-one-mistress family would be a good idea.

  He smiled as she snuggled closer, pressing her cheek as well as her leather-clad body more securely against his. She did not seem to care that she might be smudging the makeup she’d just taken a half hour applying. He dropped his head and laid his cheek against her hair, surrounding her as best he could.

  “You’re right, babe. Going downstairs is a good idea,” his Mistress said softly though she made no move to do so. “You have been so good to put up with me while pet has been away. What can I do to make my being a bitch extraordinaire up to you?”

  Gentry closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Mistress, I am here for your pleasure. All I ask is that you don’t kick me to the curb as soon as Antony returns.”

  The arms around his waist tightened to an almost painful embrace for nearly a minute before she pulled them away and stepped back. Gentry released her as soon as she moved away. He shifted into the standing slave position Antony had taught him. Feet spread a foot apart and turned out slightly. Arms behind his back, shoulders, straight, back, and relaxed, with his right hand holding the left. He dropped his head forward to stare at the carpet two feet in front of his toes and not look at Mistress.

  He focused on keeping his breathing slow and even, trying to appear calm. He fought down the fear that had built exponentially over the past few days.

  Mistress did not say a word as she circled him twice. He could feel her eyes taking in every inch of skin that his Christmas outfit exposed. And there was lot of skin. His costume consisted of a jock made of green Christmas ribbons. A large green and gold bow covered where the ribbons tied to the mesh pouch that confined his cock and balls.

  On the second circuit, she stopped behind him and ran her fingernails down either side of his spine. He fought hard to keep from arching into her touch, but it was a difficult battle. Holding perfectly still under her skilled fingers had been the hardest thing for him to accomplish, but he had learned control.

  “Is that what you think is going to happen? That I will kick you out because he is coming home? Did that happen the last time Antony returned from deployment?”

  “No, Mistress
,” he answered softly as one hand brushed over the waistband of his jock and down to stroke over one ass cheek and then the other.

  He took a deep breath when two fingers slid between the globes and brushed over his puckered star. Though she had played with his ass on numerous occasions, he was still technically a virgin in that department, through probably not for long.

  He had not told anyone, but his gift to Jenna this Christmas would be for Antony to fuck his ass while she watched. He just hoped they could do it in the privacy of their apartment on the fourth floor of the club and not in the club downstairs with everyone watching.

  “Then what makes you think I would do something like that now?”

  He stiffened with a quick breath as a single finger breeched his hole to the first joint. “Antony’s coming home again. I was just worried that you might be tired of juggling two men.”

  Gentry stiffened, biting back a yelp when the finger pulled from his hole and a hand landed hard and sharp in the center of his left ass cheek. He barely had time to suck a breath when the same hand landed with equal strength on the right one. As the pain and heat reached his brain, his half-hard cock inflated further until the mesh surrounding it became almost painful in its restrictiveness.

  He had never been into pain until Jenna, and Antony, taught him over the last year and a half that pain mixed with punishment could be pleasurable.

  Jenna came around to stand in front of him and lifted his chin until his eyes met hers. He stared into her Coke-bottle-green eyes that were filled with the power and determination that made her such a good Domme.

  “You are not going anywhere, even if I have to tie you to the bed to keep you here. You are mine, babe. My boy, my slave, my lover,” Jenna said as one hand slid down the center of his body then between jock and cock.

  “Your punishment for doubting your place in this household will be that this”—she brushed the pad of one finger over the slit of his cock, smearing the pre-cum that had formed—“will not be relieved until after the party unless I find myself in a really, really good mood. Then maybe I’ll let you sit on the bar and jerk off into a mug.”

  Gentry felt his eyes go wide. Though he loved being under Jenna’s control and did not mind making out in front of people or walking around the bar nearly naked, he still remained shy about ejaculating in public.

  He swallowed hard before responding with a soft, “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Good boy. Now let’s go downstairs before I decide to take my ire at Antony’s tardiness out on your backside. Bring Antony’s outfit for the evening with you. He’ll probably need your help getting dressed when he does get here.”

  Chapter 3

  Antony paid the driver and climbed from the cab. His flights from Chicago to New Bern had been delayed and changed so many times since Tuesday he wondered if it would have been faster to take the train. He had visited with his mother and her latest husband for a few days after returning to the States to assure her that he was indeed alive and unharmed.

  Of course, being winter and Illinois, a blizzard had moved in just after he’d arrived and fucked up flights for days. Only wearing his Coast Guard uniform to the airport early this morning had secured him a seat on an already overbooked flight.

  Grabbing the carry-on bag he had been living out of for the past two weeks, Antony climbed from the cab and waited for it to drive away before he crossed the road. He grinned as he saw the four-story, turn-of-the-century brick building that had been his New Bern home for the last few years. The bricks had been painted a medium tan, though tonight the building appeared green and red thanks to the spotlights that usually glowed white. He could see a dozen or so cars in the parking lot, telling him that he was even later than he thought.

  Home. He was finally home. Home to stay with Jenna and Gentry. Mistress Jenna was either going nuts or planning a punishment that would incapacitate him until New Year’s since he was three and a half days later returning. His mother had dropped his cell phone and broken it beyond repair, and he had not been able to call and tell anyone what was going on because all his numbers were in the now-disabled phone. Both the club and its owners stayed far off the radar.

  “Excuse me, Sir. May I help you?” A gorilla in a suit stepped in front of him, blocking his entrance into the fenced-in lot that made up the club’s front yard.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m club security for the evening. May I help you?” The man planted his feet wide and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Antony was in shape, but this guy easily made two of him.

  “My name’s Antony Ryan and I live here,” he said, waving toward the club.

  He did not want to expose the extent of his relationship with the club unless he absolutely had to. He had learned in the past that sometimes the security guys the club hired were not always as close-mouthed as they were instructed to be.

  The guard looked at a piece of paper on a clipboard. “Sorry, your name is not on the guest list.”

  Antony sighed. “Now why would my name be on the guest list if I live here? I’ve been trying to get here for three days. Please let me pass.”

  “I can’t do that, Sir. Hang on.” The man studied him closely before pulling a cell phone out of his pocket and hitting a speed dial number. “Mr. Green, this is Jenkins at the front gate. I got a guy here says he lives in the club.”

  “Give me the phone,” Antony demanded, holding out his hand.

  The big man turned away. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, yes, Sir. Hang on. Is your name Antony?”

  “Yes,” Antony answered between clenched teeth.

  “Yes, Sir. Oh, okay. Thank you.” Gorilla hung up and pocketed the phone. “Mr. Green said that you’d better get your ass in there quick and that Gentry left clothes for you at the front desk.”

  Antony nodded. “Thanks.”

  Slinging the carry-on over his shoulder, Antony jogged across the parking lot to the double front doors of the building. When he pulled on one, it refused to open. He yanked on the other, only to find it locked as well.

  “Damn,” he swore softly, blinking back tears of frustration.

  Making a fist, he banged on the doorframe, hoping someone stood close by who would let him in. “Come on, let me in. I need to pee,” he muttered as he began to pace in front of the doors.

  A moment later, the door opened just far enough for a familiar face to appear in the opening. “Antony? Is that you?”

  “Yes, Whitney, it’s me. Now let me in or I’ll tell Taurus you’ve been a naughty little mouse.” Antony grabbed the door and pulled it open far enough to get past Master Taurus’s lovely submissive and into the warm foyer.

  “Mistress Jenna is about ready to call out the National Guard to go find you and bring you in,” Whitney said as Antony tossed his bag on the check-in counter then hurried across the entryway to the men’s room. “Oh! Wait! Don’t forget this!”

  At the locker room door, Antony stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Forget what?”

  “This. Gentry dropped this bag here about fifteen minutes ago. He said this was your outfit for the evening and if you need help getting into it to let him know.” Whitney grinned as she handed him a very small red paper bag.

  Antony looked at the woman and saw she was wearing a Santa hat and a Christmas red teddy with lots of open lacework up the sides and white fur trim across the tops of both bra cups. The garment showed off her curves like nothing else he had ever seen her wearing. Opening the bag, he looked inside hesitantly. He frowned at what looked like a tangled knot of ribbon with his black leather play collar wrapped around it.

  “You’d better go get Gentry because I have no idea what this is, much less how to put it on.”

  “All right, but you’d better hurry. Taurus said the talent show is going to start shortly. I’ll get Gentry and then make sure you guys are later in the lineup.”

  “Thanks. Now let me get in here before my bladder explodes and I make a mess on the floor.”r />
  Whitney giggled as she scurried into the main room of the club. Antony could not help but grin as he stepped into the men’s locker room. Damn, it was good to be home. By the time he relieved his full bladder then stripped off and took a two-minute shower, his brother-slave had joined him in the locker room.

  “Welcome back,” Gentry said, grabbing him once he dried off.

  Antony returned the bear hug while being careful not to crush the fancy oversized bow at his crotch. He blinked back tears of emotion for the warm welcome. He could hardly wait to see how Mistress reacted to his appearance.

  “Thanks, man. How has she been?”

  “Stressing about the party and the holidays. Worried about you. She threatened to flog me if you didn’t show up tonight.”

  When Gentry pulled out the contents of the bag, Antony saw the bright red handprints in the center of each of the other man’s ass cheeks. He bit his lip to keep from commenting but knew his ass would be looking even worse before the night was over. In less than a minute, Gentry had the ribbons untangled from the leather, which he held out in offering. “Start by putting this on, and then I’ll help you get dressed.”

  Antony accepted the leather collar and quickly strapped it on. As soon as the lock closed with a snick, he relaxed. Muscles across his shoulders and upper back that he had not realized were tight with tension suddenly felt lax and loose. Placing the symbol of his servitude in its rightful place caused all his stress to flow out of him.

  Well, not all of his stress. His cock remained long, thick, and hard. The head was so deep a red it appeared almost purple. He had been walking around in a state of semi-arousal for three weeks. Now that he was within minutes of being back in Mistress’s presence, his long-delayed arousal refused to be ignored any longer.

  “Want me to take care of that for you?” Gentry asked as he wiped the counter then laid the ribbons out across the countertop.

  “While I’d love that, I’m under strict orders not to get off until I’m on my knees in front of Mistress and begging for relief.”