Page 20 of First Time

“Fuck.”

I closed the browser window without watching another second and stalked back out to my mini-bar, sickened and aroused at the same time. I’d had a couple of beers with the guys, but a double Grey Goose in one shot burned fire to my gut.

I still saw red. Wanted to sink into Becky’s slick heat and lose myself in the woman who had wholeheartedly captured my attention.

The memory of the trust in Becky’s eyes slammed me in the chest, and I rubbed a hand over my pecs, groaning. No fucking way I could ignore her unexpected presence in my life. No fucking way I could set the memory of her from my mind. And no fucking way would I allow a man to hurt yet another woman I’d come to care about even if I’d only known her a mere forty-eight hours.

“Fuck not getting involved. I’m going to free you whether you want it or not,” I vowed to my living room as though Becky could hear me. “And God help Stephen if he attempts to stop me.”

Chapter 10

Becky

Stephen took it easy on me all week, and by the time Friday rolled around again, our second and last night at Chantelle’s, I held hope that another experience at the club would settle Stephen fully back into the man I’d seen glimpses of throughout the week.

He hadn’t hurled insults at me over my inability to perform for him while sceneing and videotaping us, nor had he complained about my lack of arousal.

As with our visit the week before, my cousin was nowhere to be seen when we arrived. The same young woman who’d welcomed us the first time showed me into the lady’s changing room. I exited into the lounge by myself, finding Stephen waiting for me just beyond the door as he had the Friday before.

I handed the key to the locker I’d placed my coat in to Stephen. He didn’t spare me a second glance while shoving it into his leather pants pocket. His eyes lit with excitement, and pink stained his cheeks. Clasping my lead rope, he led me deeper into the lounge.

Gaze once more on the floor, I followed where Stephen went. I kept my eyes downcast, refusing to give in to the temptation to look around for Master Cooney. I had dreamed about him on Wednesday night—his gentle touch, kind eyes, and deep rumbly voice.

I’d woken up damp between my thighs and aching to be filled, but I’d escaped our bed and calmed myself down rather than allowing Stephen the opportunity to ask why I suddenly felt the need to initiate intimacy, which I’d longed to do. He would never believe a single excuse I offered for the state of my desire.

Pushing aside thoughts of my miserable sex life, I thought about the shibari master.

Would he be teaching the class again? Would Stephen push me forward to volunteer? I feared being turned on again by Master Cooney—I had no doubt it would happen the second I smelled his citrusy cologne or felt his presence nearby. I feared Stephen’s reaction if he found out how the man affected me. Such an event wouldn’t further Stephen’s growth.

I also didn’t want to be on display, either. Not that I would have much choice if Stephen offered me as tribute. Master Cooney might ask for my consent, but denying him would only piss Stephen off.

Chewing the inside of my lip, I fought to keep from wringing my hands.

Stephen stopped for a time beside a sub on her knees pleasing her Sir, something he was quite fond of being on the receiving end of.

“See how deep she takes him?” Stephen said, tugging me forward. “She hollows her cheeks and sucks his cock with no gagging or tears.”

I glanced up at the dark-haired woman beautiful enough to be a model. She gazed up at her Viking-like Dom, lust and love shining on her expressive face as she worked him over. Her Sir stared at her with the same emotion in his blue eyes as she had in hers.

“That’s it, Bella,” he murmured, winding his fingers gently in her hair, allowing his sub to control the scene. “Just like that...”

I glanced away, my throat tight. I’d never once been looked at with such adoration.

But, Stephen loved me. He proclaimed it with tears every time he apologized for hurting me. Or he used to, anyway.

I swallowed against the thickness wanting to close off my breaths, silent as he led me farther into the lounge. Swats sounded, followed by groans, and we stopped again.

Stephen made himself comfortable on a chair and pointed at the floor.

I lowered and tucked my knees beneath my belly, placing my forearms on the floor so he could prop his feet upon my back like he did sometimes at home while watching porn. My large breasts squashed beneath me, one angling out to the side beneath my chest, but I knew better than to tuck it back beneath me.

In my periphery, a sub lay over her Sir’s lap, jolting and moaning with each smack to her ass and thighs.

Bent over in the stool position, I knew my backside was on full display with its dimples and cellulite. I closed my eyes and tried to go to that happy place Master Cooney had taken me to.

A quiet mind. Peace like I’d never experienced.

Minutes passed, and the woman’s moans and her Sir’s murmurings of what a good little sub she was fell on my ears. By the time they finished and Stephen pulled me to my feet, my knees and back ached, and jealousy swarmed deep in my heart.

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