“Daniels.”
“Hello, Joshua,” Cole’s voice greeted him over the phone.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
“I was just looking over my work schedule and called to remind you about our 10:30 meeting.”
Josh sighed and then yawned. “It’s 10:30 p.m. And you’re working?”
Cole chuckled over the phone. “I’m always working, Daniels. That’s why you hired me.”
“No. I hired you because you are mean, ruthless, and scare the shit out of me.”
“Oh good. My image is intact. Have a good night. I will see you tomorrow.”
“Night, man,” Josh told him and hung up the phone, wondering what Shelly was doing at this very moment.
Chapter Eighteen
Whipped was definitely not what Shelly had been expecting.
As the cab pulled up to the curb, Rachel got out first as Shelly turned to Lena.
“Do you know anything about this place?” she whispered in her friend’s ear.
Lena looked over at her and shrugged. “I think it may be a little S&M.”
“What?!” Shelly squeaked, as they got out clutching their coats around them to fight off the chill of the late March air.
When they were all standing on the pavement, Shelly stated, “Alright, look, before I walk in the door...” Then, she stopped and looked over Rachel’s shoulder. “Ah, where’s the door?” Shelly paused, giggling, and moved closer, inquiring quietly, “Or is it like a dungeon?”
Rachel raised her eyebrow and shook her head, her sleek ponytail swishing from side to side.
“You, my friend, are an idiot,” she told Shelly. “The door is around the side of the building. No dungeons and no cages.”
Shelly frowned, and then asked seriously, “Um, Rach? What should we be expecting?”
Rachel smirked, walking past her toward the corner of the building where a crowd was loitering. “Just drinks and dancing.”
Shelly turned to Lena. “I don’t believe her.”
Lena slipped her arm through Shelly’s and grinned. “Neither do I, but you did say you wanted drinks to forget Jos—”
“Don’t say his name,” Shelly told her friend as they finally reached where Rachel had taken a place in line.
“Okay, I won’t say his name, but it is a shame. I thought things would work out.”
Rolling her eyes, Shelly sighed. “Just because you’re happy and boning Langley every night—”
“Eww,” Rachel chimed in. “That’s my brother you’re talking about.”
Shelly grinned unashamedly. “Okay, Miss Dirty Sex.”
Then, she continued speaking to Lena. “Not everyone is as lucky as you and Mase.”
Lena nodded before telling her softly, “I wish you could have been.”
Shelly turned to face the front of the line, muttering, “For a moment, I was.”
The line moved fairly quickly, and they were inside before they knew it.
The lights in the entryway were dim, and Shelly wondered why it mattered that she had changed. It was so dark that it would be impossible to see the blue skintight tube dress Rachel had picked out for her.
Rachel had also insisted on tying a black ribbon around her throat, resembling a choker necklace. After she had been dressed like a human-sized Barbie doll, Rachel had handed her a tall pair of spiked stilettos and had declared Shelly ready for dirty sex.
Now, where is Josh when I need him?
Like it mattered, she had nipped that in the bud, and he had told her to lose his number. Now, she could finally go back to looking for someone suitable who didn’t have an ex-girlfriend popping up to be a match contender.
Once they were finally allowed into the main area, Shelly felt her eyes widen as her mouth formed a small O-shape. By the looks of her somewhat more prudish friend, Lena, she too, was a little out of her depth—or more like a lot.
Rachel, however, strutted through the crowd, who actually moved for her, and made her way over to the bar. Not knowing what else to do, Shelly and Lena followed, looking around.
This place sure was something. The low lighting continued through the center of the club, and red-velvet booths with black tables lined the far wall of the establishment.
In the center of the space was a medium-sized dance floor, and on the other side of the club was the bar that ran along the wall. However, it wasn’t the décor of the place that was slightly shocking. It was the people that had Shelly gob smacked.
Following Rachel, Shelly noted men and women of all different shapes and sizes dressed in anything from leather to PVC to—Is that spandex? Wow.
Clearly, some of the people rocked the look. Like Rachel Langley, who had now reached the bar and was leaning on it, talking to the bartender with a sexy smile.
Then, there were others who were showing a little too much skin and should probably invest in some full body chain mail.
Shelly felt Lena grip her arm as they made it through the throng of people dancing and heavily kissing until they reached Rachel and stood beside her.
Over the loud music, Rachel yelled, “What do you two want to drink?”
Shelly was so busy staring at the way people were moving and acting in all their different outfits that she didn’t answer.
“Shel?” Rachel asked her again.
Shelly turned to look at her. “I need a tequila shot please.”
Lena piped up then and yelled, “Me, too.”
Rachel spun back around to the bartender and leaned her palms up on the counter, effectively moving her body halfway across the bar. The younger looking man, probably in his early twenties, stepped forward immediately.
“Did you hear that, Riley?”
Shelly watched as the bartender nodded, his eyes only on Rachel. Then, he said something that almost made Shelly fall flat on her face.
“Yes. Miss Rachel.”
“Good boy. Now, come here.” Miss Rachel told the young man.
Shelly felt Lena grip her arm and squeeze.
“What the hell is she doing?” she hissed in Shelly’s ear.
Shelly watched as Rachel stretched across the bar’s counter.
“I think she’s sealing a deal, or proving a...” Shelly paused utterly bewildered, and then looked at Lena clueless. “I have no goddamn idea. Did you know all about this?” Shelly demanded. “No wonder she doesn’t want Mason to know. He’d flip his lid.”
Lena’s eyes were huge as she looked over at her soon to be sister-in-law. “I’m worried about her.”
“Because of this?” Shelly asked, looking back to see the bartender now licking Rachel’s neck slowly with his hands behind his back.
Mesmerized by the odd nature of what was going on before her, Shelly stood frozen, unable to look away. Once the bartender, Riley, had completed his…task, goal? Shit, Shelly had no clue what to call it. He stepped back and waited patiently for his next order. Aha! That’s the word—order!
Rachel then moved from the bar and shook her hands by her side, as though coming out of a trance, before turning to face them both with a smile.
Shelly imagined that she and Lena looked like they could have caught flies as they stared slack-jawed at the usually bubbly and fun-loving pastry chef. Oh yeah, Mason would have a shit fit if he knew where his baby sister was spending her nights.
“Riley is going to bring us tequila for the rest of the night. It would be rude not to drink it,” Rachel informed.
Shelly raised a brow at the forceful tone of Rachel’s statement, and then decided, What the hell? You only live once.
Looking over at Lena, Shelly grinned. “I wanted to forget Josh Daniels. I can’t think of a better place to do that than here. You game?”
Lena looked over to her fiancé’s sister, who was staring at them with those serious blue eyes again. Shelly followed her friend’s gaze and also zoomed in on the stranger, formerly known as Rachel, that was standing before them.
Who is this woman?
“You pr
omise I will get home safely?” Lena asked her.
Rachel finally smiled in a somewhat familiar way, and Shelly had to admit the power she was throwing their way was kind of cool.
How does she do that?Super Domme powers? Ha ha, Super Domme! Shelly giggled giving the words a low deep ‘movie announcer’ voice in her head. Put on leather pants, and BAM, you’re an instant hypnotist?
Either way, Shelly wished she had been wearing a pair when she had been looking at Melissa this afternoon because she would have advised her to take a long walk off of a short pier.
“I would never let anything happen to either of you, Lena. You have my word,” Rachel told them.
Shelly had to admit that this version of Rachel could tell her it was safe to go into a dark padded room, and she’d probably believe her.
Turning to Lena, Shelly smiled and nodded before looking back to Rachel.
“Well? Where’s the tequila, my friend?”
Rachel looked over the bar to the statue of Riley and said nothing, just gave a slight nod of the head, but he understood because he scurried off.
As he walked away to presumably get the shots, Shelly couldn’t help but liken him to a certain ninety-pound hairball.
***
One-and-a-half sweaty hours later and four tequila shots down, the three of them moved off the dance floor, making their way back to the bar.
Lena was at the end of the bar, leaning her back up against it. Shelly stood next to her, and then beside her was Rachel, who turned to face the ever-present Riley. Once again awaiting orders.
Shelly had to admit that, as far as she could tell, it was a good system Rachel had going. Hey, more power to her.
No man would ever tell Super Domme what to do, Shelly thought as her vision of Rachel started to blur a little. Giggling, she watched as Rachel turned toward her.
“Having fun?” Rachel asked.
Shelly nodded, and then turned her head back slowly, so she could focus on Lena.
“Yep, we’re drunk,” Shelly slurred as she leaned into her closest friend and colleague. “The room is spinning a little.”
Lena nodded before looking out to the sea of black leather, silver-studded collars, and PVC booty shorts. She giggled, saying, “You know these people all look ahh-ma-zing.”
Looking out to the dance floor, Shelly had to admit that the club had lost quite a few patrons as the time had ticked by—probably since it was a Monday night.
Then, she noticed that the remaining people were from a different kind of crowd. This crowd looked fitter, younger, better-looking. It was almost as if the young ones came out to play later at night.
As Shelly stood leaning back on the bar, the three of them all looked to the dance floor.
“He’s sexy,” Rachel pointed out.
Shelly looked over to where she was pointing.
There was an auburn-haired man dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans, who was bobbing his head around to the music.
Shelly looked him over—yeah, he is attractive—but his hair was the wrong color, and it was too short. He wasn’t muscular enough either, and when he turned to look at them, his green eyes weren’t chocolate brown.
Damn Josh Daniels! Even drunk in a place called Whipped, he was still in her freakin’ head.
Lena took that moment to peer around Shelly at Rachel. “Would ya fuck him?”
Shelly looked at her fellow doctor in shock. “Oh hello, nosy?” Shelly sing-songed with a giggle. Then, she too turned to Rachel and asked, “So, would you?”
Just as Rachel was about to answer, a low voice interrupted. “She would, but she shouldn’t.”
Both Lena, and then a more controlled Rachel, turned to peer down to the very end corner of the bar where a man sat with his back against the wall. He was out of the light, so in their inebriated state, they really couldn’t see much. Shelly noticed he seemed to be twirling a lowball scotch glass in his hand.
“And why shouldn’t I?” Rachel asked the man, acting much bolder than Shelly had expected.
“Because he’s not your type,” the guy told her in that same smooth I-know-I’m-right kind of voice.
Shelly watched Rachel roll her eyes as she turned away to look back out at the crowd.
Lena took that opportunity to walk over and stand in front of Rachel. “Do you know that guy?”
Rachel shook her head. “No. I’ve never seen him before.” She seemed thoughtful for a moment, and then added, “But guys like him—they’re all the same.”
This interested a drunken Shelly immensely.
Moving to stand beside Lena, she stumbled over her own shoe but caught herself in the nick of time. Straightening up with an amused giggled, Shelly and Lena faced Rachel, looking at her like she held the answers to the universe.
“What’d ya mean?” Shelly questioned conspiratorially.
Just then, Riley came over with three shots, three lemons, and a salt shaker.
Rachel opened her mouth about to answer when her eyes lifted above their shoulders and zoomed in on the person now standing behind them.
Shelly and Lena turned to see a tall man, at least six-foot-two maybe three, with short dirty-blonde hair, and Shelly knew that all three of them were staring.
It wasn’t that he was dressed in anything ridiculous, like a studded collar or leather shorts. He was dressed in a pristine white dress shirt buttoned and tucked perfectly into charcoal pin-striped pants that narrowed at his waist. Draped around the open collar of his shirt was a crimson tie. However, the outfit didn’t end there. Resting over his arm was a jacket that was being held in place as he stood with both hands in his pants pockets.
Wearing what appeared to be his work suit, he looked so out of place in this club that it was almost more comical than seeing the men and women in the leather and studs.
“Ladies,” he greeted them with the same tone the man at the end of the bar had used.
Shelly muddled through that with her inebriated mind. Ahh, same man.
“I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to dance with your friend.”
Shelly turned to peer at Rachel, and wouldn’t you know it, cool-as-a-cucumber Rachel looked Mr. Incredible over, shaking her head.
“No, thank you. You aren’t my type,” Rachel dismissed.
Lena squeaked and looked to Shelly, mouthing, Seriously? This guy was every woman’s type. Well, every woman but Rachel apparently.
“Is that right?” he asked calmly.
His voice was so smooth and cultured that Shelly knew this guy was educated in some way. Or, maybe, he had just a few less drinks than they had.
Rachel dipped her head slightly and very elegantly for someone who had to be feeling more than a little tipsy. “That’s right. Nice suit,” she told him, almost sounding like some sort of challenge.
Shelly and Lena were now looking back and forth between the two like a tennis match—only this was better. This was Super Domme, and...well, heck, what does that make him? Shelly was almost afraid to know.
“Nice hair,” he threw back. “Are you sure you won’t take me up on my offer?”
Rachel sharply shook her head once. “I told you. You are not my type.”
Shelly watched as the man moved in closer to Rachel. She was ready to tackle him if need be, and by the looks of it, it seemed as though Lena was also ready to jump up on his back and start hitting and kicking if back-up was required.
However, it wasn’t needed as he merely leaned past Rachel, freeing his hand from his pocket to take the salt shaker. Bending his head, he licked the skin of his hand between his thumb and index finger, and tapped some salt onto it. He then moved the lemon, placing it close by, and picked up the shot glass filled with tequila, gesturing to her.
“Oh fine! If you insist. Hold your hand up where I can lick it.” Rachel instructed, eyes blazing, chin determined.
Fascinated, Shelly watched as he lifted his salt-covered hand to Rachel, daring her.
“Lick.” his deep voice instruc
ted, it seemed he was now giving the orders. He lifted his other hand, and raised the shot to her. “Sip. Suck,” he ended, nodding to the lemon.
Apparently, not one to back down from anything, Rachel leaned forward, eyes locked on the stranger’s. She licked his hand, took the shot he offered, and then picked up the lemon on the bar and sucked.
Shelly heard Lena gasp, and she wondered if her friend was also feeling the crazy sexual tension that was hissing and crackling around them like a roaring inferno.
Then, he spoke. “See? I, too, can follow orders. Sometimes.”
Rachel glared at him and narrowed her eyes.
Shelly was shocked at this whole other side of Rachel. In fact, she was starting to think that maybe she was hallucinating her very own superhero and Super Domme was what she had come up with.
Rachel stepped forward and tilted up her chin to the man, further investigating their battle of wills. “Once again. No, thank you,” she said strongly.
Suddenly, it felt like the man realized the underlying message in Rachel’s response.
Lena gripped Shelly’s arm tight like they were watching a great movie, and then they both froze as he dipped his head in retreat.
“Very well,” he turned as though to walk away. But before he took a step, he looked over his shoulder and told Rachel, “By the way, I think I am exactly your type.”
With that, he walked through the crowd and out of the club.
***
Shelly watched Rachel blink twice, and then she seemed to pull herself out of some kind of moment.
Well, hell, Shelly thought, that’s how I felt when Josh was all up in my space. Mesmerized, intoxicated, hot, and bothered.
But Rachel had said no and had clearly shown that she was not interested. As Shelly looked across the club at the auburn-haired man, she had to wonder just what was so appealing about that guy over Mr. Incredible.
Lena took that opportunity to reach over and grab their shots. Handing one to Shelly, they both passed on the licking and sucking and went straight to downing the fiery liquid. As it burned a hot liquid trail down her throat into her tummy, Shelly felt a giddy buzz come over her.