Page 28 of Steamy Ever After

The shock and anger she’d felt earlier when she first spotted Landon at the club and after they were paired together again surged through her body once more. A low growl erupted from her chest, and her subspace receded. Her upper lip curled into a sneer as she glared at Landon. “What is this? A damn conspiracy? Was this entire night a setup, you bastard?”

Her voice got louder with every question, drawing notice from those who hadn’t been paying attention to her scene. At that point, she didn’t care about anyone else or if she got banned from The Covenant. She just wanted to get as far away from Landon as possible and struggled against the ropes. Unfortunately, the more she wiggled, the more that damn knot rubbed against her clit. And instead of turning her on, it pissed her off more. “Let me out of this! Damn it! Let me out!”

“Calm down,” he pleaded, grasping her shoulders to keep her from falling to the side or onto her face. “Please calm down before you hurt yourself.”

“I don’t give a shit! Untie me now!”

Ian stepped closer, his voice low and menacing. “Clarissa, this is your last warning. If you continue to make a scene, your membership will be voided. You can say your safeword, but—” When she opened her mouth to do just that, he held up a hand, stopping her. The anger eased from his voice, but he was still serious when he continued, “But! I really think you should listen to what Landon has to say before you go that route. Trust me. Please.”

She rarely heard that last word fall from Ian’s lips in the club—not that he was ever impolite. She couldn’t recall him ever saying “please” to a sub, even his wife, during a scene and definitely not in the soft, imploring tone he’d just used. If he issued an order as the head Dom, it was followed without question unless a safeword was spoken. The BDSM lifestyle was built on trust, and right then, he was asking her to give that trust to him willingly. And to Landon. Could she after her ex’s infidelity?

Her chest heaved as best it could under the restraints as she scowled at both men. Off to the side, she noticed Luna and several other submissives. They looked as confused as she was—clearly, her friends had no idea what was happening. At least they hadn’t betrayed her too.

From her left, Ian’s beautiful wife, Angie, approached cautiously and entered the play space. She wore a revealing sheer red teddy and matching panties, which wasn’t unusual for the submissive. After all, she was an exhibitionist in the club, and her husband had a lingerie fetish. “Master Landon, may I say something to your submissive, please?” When he bit his lip and nodded his assent, her gaze shifted to the bound sub. “Clarissa, please. Listen to them. I swear I didn’t know what was happening until just a few minutes ago. Only Masters Ian, Devon, and Mitch knew.” She shot her husband a brief glare, but he just shrugged his shoulders, his mouth in a flat line of indifference. “But I really think you need to give Master Landon a chance to explain. It’s important, honey. If it wasn’t, I’d cut you loose myself. Please try to calm down.”

Tears of anger and frustration rolled down Clarissa’s face, but there was no way for her to wipe them away. She gasped for air—not because of the ropes, but because she started to hyperventilate. Landon handed Mitch the scissors but then cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. His rough fingers stroked her soft skin, and he lowered his voice so only those closest to them could hear him. “Shh. Baby, take a deep breath with me. Inhale . . . and exhale. Good girl. Again.”

Mitch watched her closely, apparently ready to cut the ropes if he had to. But after a few moments of breathing with Landon, Clarissa calmed. He’d brought her back from the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

Landon wiped her wet cheeks. “Baby, all I’m asking is that you watch and listen to something. After that, if you want to walk out of here without me, then I’ll let you, and I’ll never bother you again. I’ll even surrender my membership, so you won’t have to. Please. Just give me this one opportunity to set things right.”

Through her own tear-filled eyes, she saw Landon’s own eyes water. He looked miserable, and at that moment, her heart that’d been frozen over for all the years since their divorce seemed to crack. Her gaze darted around. Everyone stared at her, waiting to hear what her response would be.

Licking her lips, she closed her eyes for a moment. She had no idea what was going on. What could he possibly show her that would make a difference? He’d always denied having an affair—could that be true? No, she’d seen the pictures with her own eyes. Hell, the entire world had seen them. While her mind wanted her to run out of there, her melting heart begged her to listen to him. If there was a shred of hope that the man she both loved and resented could be her soulmate again, shouldn’t she take that chance? But what if she ended up hurt again? God, it was so difficult to trust him. She’d been burned more than once in her life and was afraid it would happen again.

Slowly opening her eyes, she met Landon’s worried gaze. It was clear he thought she was about to say her safeword. In fact, it was on the tip of her tongue, but after several long seconds, against her better judgment, she finally nodded. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” The relief in those two words was unmistakable, and Clarissa prayed she hadn’t just made a colossal mistake.

Beside him, Mitch held up a smartphone, showed it to those around them, and raised his voice to be heard. “Just so everyone knows, the camera, video, and audio recording apps on this have been deactivated and deleted by me personally, with Master Ian confirming that it can’t take pictures or video. It can only play the one video that was saved to the phone. In fact, every other app was deleted, including the internet browsers. However, the Bluetooth feature is still activated. If anyone wants to confirm this for themselves or objects to me turning it on, say so now.”

Murmurs rolled through the crowd, but no one protested. Apparently, everyone was interested in finding out what was so important about a video on the phone. No one more than Clarissa, though.

Mitch glanced at Ian, who gave him the okay to turn on the device. “It’s a burner phone,” Mitch told the members, “that will be destroyed as soon as we’re done here.”

Landon lifted the headphones, placed them over her ears, and pushed a small button on one side. An electronic voice announced, “Power on. Bluetooth connected.”

Puzzled, Clarissa watched Mitch hand the phone to Landon, who tapped the screen with his finger and then turned it to face her. Since it was now connected to the headphones, she was the only one who could hear the video that began to play.

It took her a moment to realize it’d been taken in a conference room—it looked exactly like the one in an office belonging to a casting agent who both Landon and Clarissa knew well. In the video, Landon paced back and forth but stopped short when the conference room door opened and someone entered. Ice flowed through Clarissa’s veins as a woman came into view—fuckin’ poison Ivy Green, that skanky blonde bimbo Landon had fucked! She looked like a streetwalker dressed in tight black pants, high heels, and a snug, V-neck crop top that showed off her bare midriff and the deep cleavage of her surgically-enhanced tits.

Clarissa glared at Landon, but then his voice, dripping with contempt, came through the headphones, drawing her attention back to the small screen. “Hello, Ivy.”

“What are you doing here?” Ivy asked, obviously confused by Landon’s presence as she glanced around the otherwise empty room. “I was told to come in to audition for a part. Are you directing the movie?”

“Sit down, Ivy. We’re going to have a chat.” Barely contained rage was in Landon’s voice.

The woman smirked at him. “Unless it has to do with a part in a movie, we have nothing to talk about.”

“Sit down—now!”

Ivy’s face turned red with anger. “Fuck you! Who the hell do you think you are?”

She moved toward the door, but it opened, and a huge man entered, shutting it behind him. It was the casting agent’s husband who was the head of security at a well-known, upscale hotel in Los Angeles. He crossed his arms, completely blocking Ivy’s exit.

“Move, you big jerk!”

When the man ignored her, she turned back to Landon. “What the hell is going on? What do you want?” She pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “Let me out of here, or I’m calling the cops!”

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