Wicked Player Read online

  Wicked Player

  Stacey Lynn

  Wicked Player

  A Rough Riders Novel #3

  Stacey Lynn

  Copyright © 2019 Stacey Lynn

  Content Editing: My Brother’s Editor

  Proofreading: Virginia Tesi Carey

  Cover Design: Shanoff Designs

  Cover Model Photography: Furious Fotog

  Cover Model: Michael Scanlon

  Wicked Player is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously or are a product of the author’s imagination.

  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reprinted, reproduced, or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review passages only.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Chapter 32

  About the Author

  Chapter 33

  Other Books by Stacey Lynn

  One

  Elizabeth

  I took the blindfold Tristan held in his hand. Grasping it lightly, adrenaline and desire already pulsed lightly beneath my pale skin.

  It was the first time in six months I entered the halls of The Velvet Club. It had taken me awhile to get over the last night I’d spent here when I’d wanted it to become more.

  “You ready for this?” Tristan asked. His light brown eyes swept over my face, down to my hands, most likely to see if I was trembling.

  I was definitely trembling, but not from nerves. Anticipation sank its delicate claws into my flesh, pulling me toward the door.

  Room number four. There would be a harness where I could be restrained on one wall. A bed with silken gray linens so shimmery they could have been real silver next to it. The far wall would have a blacked-out window. We’d be able to see out. If the blinds were raised, voyeurs could watch the show. That wouldn’t happen though because I insisted they stay closed. As a public television figure, I had too much to lose if my identity here was ever leaked.

  This was the only one I ever chose. It was also the only room where I allowed a stranger’s hands, lips, and body to pleasure me. The familiarity of this room made it easier for me to give my body to a man I sometimes couldn’t see.

  “Anything I need to know?”

  “This man needs anonymity.” He dipped his head toward my hand. “That’s the reason for the blindfold. Everything else, exactly what you want. Nothing extreme.”

  I came here, paid a huge chunk of my small salary because I knew what I liked and I learned early on that college boys were more concerned with what they got out of a girl than what they were with giving. I wasn’t a selfish receiver.

  I just liked a man who ensured he gave before he took for himself. Coaching frat boys who’d chugged more keg beer than their weight never interested me.

  “Is he in there?”

  “He wanted to give you a few minutes to get comfortable.”

  “Anything else I need to know?”

  Tristan’s face changed, softened in the way I knew he would keep his word. My anxiety calmed and I blew a soft breath out through my lips.

  “He’s a good man. Know all there is to know about him and I can tell you right now this guy won’t hurt you.” His grin turned sassy. “At least not more than you like or request. And so you know, we made changes to the room since you’ve been here.”

  “What?”

  “No more cross.”

  I glanced at the black door, knowing exactly what was in the room, the setup down to the square inch and back to Tristan. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “It’s your room. Your safe space. Wouldn’t be safe if you had the memory of last time. Had the boys remove it today.”

  Perfect. I hadn’t had the nerve to ask for it, but knowing it wouldn’t be there helped. “Thanks, Tristan.”

  He stepped around me, pressed in the code for the door and opened it. “Anything for you, ma chérie. Alarm button is in the same place.”

  I didn’t need the reminder. Panic buttons were always to the sides of the headboard, and one of the rules was that it had to be accessible at all times. Which meant even if restrained, my fingers would be able to brush it.

  I trusted I would never need to use it again.

  “Enjoy yourself,” Tristan said.

  I inhaled deeply. My big breath chilled my throat and expanded my lungs.

  I was ready and with a smile that would bring Tristan ease, I pressed my hand to his shoulder as I passed him. “Oh, I will. Don’t you worry.”

  He stepped away with a chuckle so sexy I almost wished he were straight. And dominant.

  The door clicked closed behind him and I was there. Alone. For the first time in six months, I was back in the very room that ran me out of the club.

  Like Tristan promised, everything was the same. The chair in the corner that looked perfect for a Sunday afternoon lounge with a glass of wine and a good book was more deceptive than it appeared. It curved and dipped, making sex on it absolutely delicious.

  I’d been with a partner there once. The positions required more intimacy than I typically experienced. Not for lack of want, but connection.

  I skipped my eyes over it to the corner where the St. Andrew’s Cross had been. In its place was a large potted plant, which explained the soft lilac scent.

  Only Tristan would take away a sex toy and replace it with a pot of fresh flowers.

  The scent was soothing and I glanced away as quickly as I’d seen it. The memories of last time weren’t going to enter my mind. I moved to the bed and sat down at the foot of it. It was high and my toes brushed gently over the lush cream rug. This was my time. My night. This was the night I took periodically, solely for me, seeing to my own needs and I had my own routine.

  As butterflies swarmed low in my stomach, I kicked off my heels and flexed my feet, brushing them over the carpet. For two years I’d done this very same thing, flexing and relaxing my hands, rolling my shoulders.

  I inhaled slowly, counted to five, and blew out each breath through my lips. The lilac scent invaded, soothed me easily, and soon I was ready.

  I opened my eyes and removed my clothes. Folding them methodically, I set them on top of a small dresser along with my shoes. No man I’d ever been with asked me to do this, but the process helped prepare me and get me in the right frame of mind.

  For not the first time, it occurred to me how odd I was. I was controlled in every single moment of my day from pre-planned outfits to a strict cleaning schedule. Yet when it came to sex, I could only enjoy it when there was the danger and darkness, pain and pleasure. I threw myself into situations many considered reckless and yet I still knew the truth.

  With one word able to fall from my lips, I held all the control. There was safety and security in the word “red.” One I’d only used once.

  With my clothing removed, I unclasped the white lace b
ra. The cool fabric scraped deliciously over my hardening nipples as it fell to my hands. It left me in only the matching thong and I re-took my seat at the edge of the bed.

  The blindfold was within reach and I slid it over my eyes.

  By my count, I had a minute before the door opened.

  So I took the time. Breathed slowly. Rolled my shoulders. My neck. Relaxed the tension in my body.

  And prepared.

  Two

  Gage

  “She is not just a member. She’s special. Be good to her.”

  My brows arched at Tristan’s quiet but clear warning. I’d been coming to Velvet for three years, finding it almost a year after being traded to the Rough Riders from St. Louis. He hadn’t spoken to me like this after the general rule reminders when I first began.

  I already thought it odd he caught me outside the door to the room I preferred. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Something I need to know?”

  “The lady in there…Beth…she’s been a member a long time. Left for a few months after an unsavory incident—”

  “Injured?” I balked. “You didn’t tell me this.”

  Shit. A woman who’d been injured in a club like this could be damaged. It was where trust was ultimate. If she didn’t have that in the club…or me…

  “Non, not physically. She stopped it. She also took a break but if she wasn’t perfect for what you desire, I wouldn’t have had her come in.”

  “I’m her first?” My spine prickled. This went from bad to worse. “Tristan.”

  “It will be well. I’m simply reminding you to be good to her. She’s strong and if I had doubts, I wouldn’t have called her.”

  This had disaster etched into the walls. “Maybe you should find someone else.”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “But now I’m not sure I’m comfortable.” The very last thing I needed in my life was a woman claiming I beat her. It’d not only ruin my career and my reputation but my family’s.

  Tristan grinned. I respected the hell out of the way he and his partner Joel ran their business, but this pushed the edges of my comfort zone. That grin was a tease on his otherwise serious expression. “Trust me, you’ll be comfortable. Go see her. You don’t feel what she can give you after a few minutes, you can end it, and I’ll explain it to her.”

  Uncertainty had tightened my shoulders and I dropped my arms to my sides. I shook them out to relax them. I popped my neck a couple of times.

  “Okay. She’s ready then?”

  “And we’ve kept her waiting. Enjoy yourself, Bryant. I have no doubt she will. Bonne chance.”

  The man knew I had no idea what he said when he rattled off his French. Hoping it meant something good, I kept my eyes on him as he turned and swaggered off.

  He spent most nights in the security room where he’d manage the guards in charge of overseeing the main room’s activities and watching for any sign of disobedience from one of the eight private rooms.

  When he disappeared, her name returned to my mind.

  Beth.

  It wasn’t real, at least I doubted it was. I’d never cared enough to ask. I’d had multiple partners at Velvet since becoming a member. Most of them were only for one night. It wasn’t because I didn’t want a long-term relationship. I did. I wanted the family, the wife, the children, the two dogs and cat, good home my parents raised me in. But with my lifestyle and my desires, finding that perfect woman was difficult. I’d recently begun thinking it was impossible even though the older I got, the more I wanted it.

  Sex. I understood that and liked it.

  How to combine the sex life I craved and my career and not worry about a scorned ex-girlfriend coming forward with accusations it’d be impossible to defend myself from? That was the kicker.

  I didn’t join The Velvet Club for solely privacy and sex. I came to dominate. To hear a woman’s ecstatic cries as I took her to heights she’d never reached. That was my gift to them. Their gift to me was milking my cock with their tight heat while enjoying the hell out of themselves.

  At Velvet, I could do that without the risk of a lawsuit thanks to the non-disclosure agreements everyone signed.

  I’d kept Beth waiting long enough. I knocked on the door twice, signaling I was about to enter and turned the knob.

  Let the wicked games begin.

  * * *

  The room was dark as I entered save for the soft lamp on a dresser casting a gentle glow over the whole room. I waited until my eyes adjusted to the darkness before letting the door fully close behind me. My eyes immediately went to the woman sitting on the edge of the bed.

  My body arrested. My chest went tight. Everything inside me burned hot and froze to ice.

  Glorious. Beautiful didn’t describe the woman with long hair, silken caramel with bright blonde mixed in, reminding me of my favorite dessert. It was thick and long, wavy down to her waist.

  She was in nothing but white underwear, her breasts, small but perfect, drew my gaze to her already hardened nipples. Her chest rose with every slow, controlled breath.

  Good.

  Fear hadn’t spiked yet. With Tristan’s warning still in my head, I stepped toward her. If she heard me moving, she didn’t react. If she felt my presence, she didn’t respond. This woman wasn’t afraid unless she was well-trained, and I didn’t like well-trained professional subs. I just liked a woman willing to give me whatever I asked for.

  I stopped before my black dress pants brushed against her knees. “What’s your name?”

  I already knew it, but I needed to hear her voice to help determine if she was afraid or controlled.

  “Beth. Yours?”

  Her voice was husky and smooth at the same time. Rich and not too high. It didn’t shake and my concerns over her fear dissipated.

  “John,” I semi-lied. Mine was my middle name, but no way in hell did I go by Gage Bryant within these walls. I was recognizable enough. “How long have you been coming to Velvet?”

  Her toes curled into the rug at her feet. It was the only movement she’d made since I entered the room and my gaze was drawn to the curl of her toes. The bright pink polish on them as she then pressed her feet firmly into the rug. “Three years but it’s been a few months.”

  “Since you were with a partner or at all?”

  “Both,” she whispered and if the room had more light, I would swear a blush fanned across her throat.

  “Are you okay with being blindfolded?” She’d have to be or I’d leave but I still always asked.

  She shifted then. This time at her thighs. Trim muscles showed at the tops of her legs as she did so and I couldn’t hold back a grin. Was just talking to her turning her on?

  I could explore that.

  “Yes, I’m okay with that.”

  “Safe words?”

  “Colors…green, yellow, and red, and before you ask…” Her lips lifted at one edge into the hint of a smile. “I will use them if I have to, but if we could get started, that’d be really nice.”

  Her voice softened as she spoke showing me she was turned on. The hitch in her breath, the small increase in her breathing, and the tension of her thighs made me want to ask her if she was wet. With how composed she was, I suspected I’d enjoy finding out for myself.

  “It’ll be more than really nice,” I said, smirking though she couldn’t see. “Spread your legs. I’m going to step between them and I want you to undo my belt.”

  Touching someone for the first time when they were blindfolded required trust we hadn’t yet established. I always let the women touch me first, acclimate their hands to my body, the shape of me. Partly because it helped them loosen up.

  Mostly because my dick went rock hard when trembling, nervous hands ran over me for the first time.

  Soon, she’d learn I was larger than she expected. A bit of fear or wonder would creep into her voice as she realized my bulk and muscles. And then, knowing I was so much larger than her, bigger and stronger and could break her small frame
without even meaning to, she’d still give herself to me.

  They always did, but I really fucking liked the hint of fear in their tone and in the way they moved while they did.

  She moved her knees apart, readjusted her small frame on the edge of the bed. I kicked off my shoes and stepped in between her legs. My hands went to my hips.

  “You can begin whenever you’re ready.”

  Without any hesitation, her teeth showed through her smile and her hands rose. She lacked the original tremble most did and my interest spiked. A woman blindfolded with no worry at all? It wasn’t common. Tristan’s warning rang in my head.

  She is not just a member. She is special.

  Special indeed.

  Her fingers pressed against my thighs. A small shiver rolled through her at that first contact. A lightning bolt struck my spine as she pressed her small hands more firmly against me.

  “You’re tall,” she whispered, hands roaming up to my hips. Her fingers brushed against mine at my hips and stopped. The warmth from her hand sent that lightning bolt burning hotter.

  When was the last time I had such a visceral reaction to a woman? And I hadn’t even touched her yet.

  “Hmm,” she purred. Her fingers trailed my hands, stroked the length of my fingers up to my wrists. “You seem very strong.”

  I was losing strength and self-control with every whispering touch.

  “Yup.”

  “And I bet big.” Her lips lifted at one corner. Brave. Sweet. Her lyrical voice seduced me even while she teased me.