Playing His Way Read online

  Stephanie was definitely intrigued, and turning down any customer wasn’t something she’d ever do. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “There’s a potential client who wants a consult on some fantasy-room ideas, and if they like what we come up with, it would be a very lucrative contract for us.”

  “Some? As in plural?” Definitely an unusual request, because all of her clients so far had focused the fantasy décor on one room in their house, mainly their bedroom. She couldn’t imagine doing every room in an elaborate fantasy theme. But there was a first time for everything.

  “Yes, plural,” her friend confirmed. “Dean came home last night after having dinner with Mac and Rick, to celebrate the fact that Mac is now the new owner of The Players Club.”

  “He is?” Surprise rippled through her, because that hadn’t been common knowledge. Then again, it wasn’t as though she had any experience with anything Players Club related, nor had she known that the place was for sale. And even though Jillian had offered her an invitation to visit the club anytime she wanted it, Stephanie had been so busy the past few months that sex had been the last thing on her mind.

  “Yes, the place is now his,” Jillian said. “I can’t say I’m overly shocked. The guy has more money than he knows what to do with, and apparently the former owner of the club was ready to let it go, so Mac bought it.”

  That boggled Stephanie’s mind, because a monstrous estate like that in the Fallbrook area outside of San Diego had to have cost millions. Mac was business partners with Dean, and their security firm was doing exceptionally well, but he’d been a Navy SEAL up until around seven years ago, according to what Jillian had once told her. “I didn’t realize that being in the military paid that well,” she said wryly, unable to imagine how he’d saved up for a down payment on that kind of real estate.

  “Mac comes from family money,” Jillian clarified. “Loads of it. Like, obscene amounts of it.”

  Another interesting revelation about the gorgeous, sexy man who seemed so enigmatic and controlled. To the point that her flirtatious overtures didn’t seem to faze him. Except she’d seen evidence to the contrary, and knew he was equally attracted to her despite his standoffish attempts. Body language rarely lied, and the tension she’d witnessed bunching every inch of those hard, lickable muscles of his screamed that Mac was containing a whole lot of sexual interest when it came to her.

  “So he just went out and bought a sex club?” Stephanie was still trying to wrap her head around that bit of information.

  “Yep. He’s certainly there often enough,” Jillian said, her voice rich with humor, which matched the sparkle in her eyes. “He might as well use it as an investment and write-off, right?”

  Her friend definitely had a good point. “So, how many rooms is he looking to design?”

  “There are six master bedrooms with connecting en suites that are located in the east wing of the mansion,” Jillian told her. “He wants to turn them into adult-themed playrooms so he can offer those suites to members at a premium rate.”

  Excitement bubbled through Stephanie. She loved the creative, conceptual part of her job, along with the challenge to exceed anything she’d ever designed before, and the sexy ideas were already starting to pop in her mind.

  The small intercom on Stephanie’s desked beeped before Violet’s—the new front-end girl’s—voice came through the speaker. “Jillian, Regina Pearce is on line one for you.”

  “I need to take that,” Jillian said, and immediately stood up, though she glanced at Stephanie expectantly. “So, you’ll take the job?”

  “I’d love to,” she replied, because after how insanely busy the last few months had been, having a little fun with the gorgeous Mr. Grumpy MacMillian, and seeing just what it took to crumble that restraint of his, was a challenge she couldn’t resist. “I’ll try giving Mac a call at the office right now to schedule a consultation with him.”

  “Perfect!” Jillian said with an enthusiastic smile. “And you know I’m here for you if you need to have a few drinks and bounce ideas.”

  Stephanie laughed, because sometimes they came up with some hilarious stuff for fantasy designs while they were inebriated, which turned into unique and awesome ideas when their minds cleared. “I might take you up on that.”

  Jillian left, closing the door behind her, and Stephanie did a quick internet search to find Noble and Associates’ office number, since it wasn’t something she had on hand. Gail, their receptionist, answered on the second ring, her voice efficient and professional as she greeted the caller.

  “Hi, Gail, this is Stephanie,” she said, having met the older woman a few times. “Would Mac happen to be in the office and free to take my call?”

  “Actually, yes, to both questions,” Gail said amicably once she realized it was Stephanie. “Hang on and I’ll put you through.”

  The line switched over to soft classical music as she waited for Mac to pick up. A full minute went by, longer than it should have taken for a person who was “free to talk” to pick up the phone, before he finally answered.

  “Hello?” he said, his deliciously deep voice tentative.

  Stephanie wouldn’t have expected anything less from Mac, who made it a point to try and avoid her whenever they were in the same vicinity. Why would an unexpected phone call be any different?

  “Hi, Mac. It’s Stephanie,” she said cheerfully, even though he clearly knew who was on the line. “I’m calling to talk about your interest in a few fantasy rooms for The Players Club. Congratulations on the purchase, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” His tone was gruff but no less sexy. “I was expecting Jillian to call for the consultation, since she’s been to the club and knows the atmosphere and layout of the place.”

  Stephanie rolled her eyes at the excuse, and if he was trying to intimidate her, well, she wasn’t any easy pushover, as he was about to find out. “Believe it or not, I’m fully capable of coming up with some unique ideas that you might actually like.” While her comment held a sarcastic edge, she’d delivered her words in a sugar-sweet tone. “As for the layout of the suites you want redesigned, like any client we work with, I can take one look at the room and know what will or won’t work.”

  He made a grunting sound, and she imagined him clenching that devastatingly handsome jaw in frustration. “Is there a reason Jillian can’t handle the job?”

  “She’s booked and I’m pretty open for the next few weeks,” she said, which was the truth. “Is that an issue?”

  Stephanie would have sworn she heard him swear beneath his breath before he outright lied to her. “Nope. Not an issue at all.”

  “Great. When’s a good time to come by the club so I can take a look around?” she asked, treating him like she would any other client. Knowing the club was closed from Sunday through Wednesday, she quickly flipped to her desk calendar and ran her finger down the Tuesday column, finding herself clear after four today. “Are you free later this afternoon? Say around five thirty?”

  Another brief hesitation before he responded. “Yes. I’m available then.”

  “Perfect.” Her tone was enthusiastic. She was excited to tackle the project, and maybe even get under Mac’s skin a bit more, because that would just be plain fun to watch. God, what she wouldn’t do to see him embrace their attraction, instead of fighting it so hard. “I’ll meet you at the club so I can take a look at the rooms you’re interested in redesigning. Can I get your cell phone number just in case I need to get ahold of you before I get there?”

  Clearly accepting the situation, he rattled off his number, which she jotted down to put into her phone when they hung up. “And here’s mine,” she said, sharing her digits as well.

  “I’ll text you the code for the main gate to get into the property.”

  She smiled to herself, feeling as though he’d just given her the keys to the castle. Or in this case, The Players Club. “Okay, I’ll see you then.”

  “Yep, guess so,” he said, doing nothin
g to disguise the resignation in his voice right before the call disconnected.

  Chapter Two

  Mac set the phone in the cradle a bit harder than normal, wondering how the fuck Stephanie had managed to get the upper hand on him in just one conversation. He’d specifically asked for Jillian for this project for a reason, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the determined, strong-willed woman who made him fantasize about all the delightful, gratifying ways he’d break her of that feisty attitude in the bedroom.

  He imagined leather cuffs wrapped around her wrists and ankles to keep her restrained, a ball gag pushed past those lush lips to silence that sassy mouth of hers, and a nice firm paddle against her bare, curvy ass to teach her a few lessons about who, exactly, was in charge.

  His dick hardened at the vision dancing in his head, and he had to firmly remind himself that Stephanie was the complete opposite of every obedient, submissive woman he’d played with at the club. She wasn’t the kind of docile female who’d willingly drop to her knees in front of him and suck his cock on command, but Jesus, the image of her surrendering her body and pleasure to him was a heady thought that was starting to fill his head on a regular basis.

  And now, despite his best efforts to hire Jillian, he was in the position where he was going to be forced to deal with an arrangement that was going to test every ounce of discipline he could muster.

  A brisk knock on his open door had Mac glancing in that direction. Seeing Dean strolling casually into his office, Mac scowled at his friend.

  “Here’s the Fairfield contract for you to review before we sign,” Dean said, tossing the printed copy onto his desk before realizing Mac had narrowed his gaze on him. “And Jesus, what’s with the glare?”

  Mac leaned back in his chair, trying to remain calm when he wanted to throttle Dean for not giving him a heads-up about Stephanie. “Why didn’t you warn me that Jillian wasn’t going to be able to do the suites at the club?”

  To his credit, Dean’s gaze widened in surprise. “Jillian never said she couldn’t do them, though she did tell me she’d talk to Stephanie when she got into the office this morning.”

  Mac exhaled a deep, disgruntled breath. “Yeah, well, she handed it off to Stephanie, and do not fucking smirk at me,” he said, seeing the beginnings of a sly smile forming on Dean’s lips.

  “And having Stephanie do the job is a problem because…?” he asked, raising a brow instead. “I mean, she’s the owner of the company. She’s the one who created the fantasy-bedroom concept in the first place. You’ll be dealing with the best. Unless you just don’t trust yourself when it comes to a one-on-one situation with Stephanie?”

  The fucker was goading him, and Mac refused to rise to the bait Dean was dangling. “Unlike you, I can control myself and my dick.”

  Dean laughed. “I’m married. Why should I deny my dick any kind of action when my wife gets all hot and bothered when I bring the dominant out to play?”

  “I’m meeting her at the club tonight at five thirty,” Mac said, ignoring Dean’s comment. “So clearly, I can be professional about it.”

  Dean absently scratched his jaw. “I don’t get why you’re fighting your attraction to Stephanie when she’s shown signs that she’s interested in you.”

  “You know why,” Mac said gruffly.

  Dean was well aware of his ex-wife’s accusations that had messed with Mac’s head and cemented his preference for trained, experienced subs. He didn’t touch women who had no clue what being with a dominant man meant and weren’t familiar with being issued uncompromising orders that, if ignored, were met with a bit of pain and punishment. Stephanie did not strike him as the type of female who deferred to any man’s demands. While that was reason enough for him not to engage with her beyond polite pleasantries and now business, he couldn’t deny that the thought of teaching her to obey and please him, and like it, made his blood heat in his veins at the challenge it presented.

  His friend sighed and rubbed his fingers along his forehead. “Okay, fine, we won’t go there,” Dean relented. “But for the record, I think you’re being . . . shortsighted about Stephanie.”

  “Shortsighted?” Mac echoed in disbelief. “Because I have rules about the kind of women I fuck and she’s the complete opposite of what I prefer?”

  “No, because you’re too chickenshit to take a chance on a woman you really want and see what might happen.” Dean put up his hands in a show of backing off. “But, hey, you have to do what you need to do, even if it means sticking to pliant, obedient women who are way too easy and safe but no longer provide any real sexual excitement.”

  “Those women do just fine,” Mac said, and wondered who he was really trying to convince. Himself or Dean.

  Definitely not Dean, because his friend had a too knowing look in his eyes. “Take it from someone who’d been in a rut with his wife, and when she turned the tables on me and became this confident vixen, it was a total game changer for our relationship. Trust me, variety is the spice of life and makes things much more interesting in the bedroom.”

  Mac couldn’t argue, because if he was honest with himself, he’d grown bored with the same old routine. The same kind of woman. The same predictable scenes with a sub that eventually got him off but left him feeling less than satisfied and wanting something . . . more. Like the adrenaline rush of a true power play between himself and a female, that required him to work harder to make a woman yield to his commands. Unfortunately, he knew how those dangerous scenes could go horribly wrong, hence his reasons for choosing the women he did.

  Dean left his office with that parting remark hanging in the air, and surprisingly, the rest of the day passed quickly despite Mac’s mind being filled with thoughts of Stephanie and how their meeting that evening would go. He had lunch with a client, a meeting with a few of their men to prep them for an upcoming event in downtown San Diego that they were providing security for, and finished the afternoon by clearing out his emails and signing off on the contract Dean had tossed on his desk earlier.

  By four thirty, he was ready to call it a day at the office. After checking in with Dean to make sure they had nothing on the books for the rest of the evening, he headed over to The Players Club. The drive to Fallbrook was about twenty minutes from the Noble and Associates offices, and he released a bit of tension by giving in to the need for speed in his Maserati GranTurismo.

  Unfortunately, today the power of driving such a well-engineered sports car did nothing to ease the unsettling, restless feeling in his gut. The one that Dean had planted there with his lecture about Mac playing it safe with the sweet, docile subs he hooked up with at the club. It was the truth. He did play it safe, and always made sure he stayed in control during sex so he never again went too far with a woman who wasn’t experienced in handling his darker desires.

  Dean had told him that it was a matter of finding a woman who trusted him to be that truly dominant man in the bedroom, but that was easier said than done. Mac once believed he’d had that trust and understanding with his ex-wife . . . but her cry of rape would forever echo in his head and kept him from ever allowing himself to let go the way his body really craved.

  Arriving at the massive metal gates surrounding the estate he’d purchased, Mac stopped and punched in the code that allowed him access and let him through. He drove the winding driveway all the way up to the sprawling, four-story Mediterranean-style mansion that had been built on the side of the mountain and overlooked the city of Fallbrook below. Everything about the house, from the immaculate landscaping to the monstrous structure itself, looked like a well-taken-care of residence on the outside—but was all decadence and sin on the inside. And it was now all his.

  Mac smirked at the thought. His snooty, well-to-do family back East would be appalled at his choice of investment. His grandfather, however, if he’d still been alive, would have praised him for his innovation and lucrative real estate purchase—then would have demanded a free lifetime membership to the club.

&nb
sp; God, he missed the old man. He’d been the one person in his family who truly got him and the choices Mac had made that had gone against his parents’ demands and expectations. When he’d gotten divorced and joined the military, that disappointment had led to estrangement . . . and had remained that way to this day. But at thirty-eight, he didn’t need his mother’s or father’s approval for anything, and he had all the family he could want with Dean, Jillian, and the guys who worked for Noble and Associates.

  He was about a half hour early for his appointment with Stephanie, which gave him time to check on what the contractors he’d hired to renovate the main play area of the club had accomplished, since the workers were still there. After parking next to one of the utility trucks in the drive, Mac headed inside and met up with the guy supervising the project.

  Since he’d hired a round-the-clock crew to get the job done as fast as possible, the inside transformation of the club was happening quickly, just as Mac wanted. Most everything was cosmetic work or an easy addition. New furniture—both casual and sexual pieces—had already been delivered and installed in the Player’s Lounge, the shared playrooms, and the dungeon. New flooring was being laid in the entryway and throughout the first level, where most of the members mingled before heading into other parts of the club to indulge in additional pleasures. The black leather and chrome accents were being worked on, as well, giving the interior of the mansion the updated, more modern look he’d envisioned. Everything seemed to be right on track for being done before the masquerade party happening on the underground level that Saturday evening.

  The double beep of his cell pulled his attention away from checking out the progress of the renovations. He retrieved his phone from the front pocket of his slacks, seeing on the security app he’d installed that Stephanie had just punched in the code he’d given her to open the gates. Knowing she’d be at the house in a matter of a minute or two, he headed back to the entrance and waited for her in the open courtyard out front.