Playing His Way Read online

  “What the hell are you smirking at?” Logan asked.

  Rick, the only man in the group besides Mac who was single, was clearly amused by all the male posturing and testosterone in the air. “I’m waiting to see who starts beating on their chest first. You or Sawyer.”

  “Fuck off,” Logan said, which only made Rick grin even wider.

  It was obvious the women were looking for their men as they made their way through the growing crowd of people at the masquerade party below. Dean let out a shrill whistle that pierced the air and rose above the music, and caught Jillian’s attention. She glanced up, saw Dean and the other guys, and pointed their location out to the girls.

  As they headed in their direction, Stephanie stopped to get a glass of champagne from one of the passing waiters, which separated her from Jillian, Raina, and Paige. Now by herself, she was ripe for the picking for any of the men looking for a partner for the evening. She was clearly new blood, because anyone as gorgeous and sexy as Stephanie would have made a distinct impression on the male members had she been here before. And without a ring on her finger, her single status was apparent to anyone who cared to look.

  And a whole lot of men definitely glanced her way with interest and lust in their eyes. And why wouldn’t they when her siren-red, barely there dress was pure sex, which she’d most likely worn to mess with his head, and his dick. As much as he hated to admit it, her goal had been achieved, because his mind was envisioning her naked, and his cock was already half-hard for her. Then again, that was becoming a natural response for him whenever she was near.

  A few guys down below were bold enough to stop her and engage in a conversation that caused her to either smile or laugh—and made Mac a little insane to watch her flirt with those other men—but she eventually pointed up to the VIP section, as if to tell them that’s where she was heading. As soon as the members glanced up and saw Mac, who wasn’t wearing a mask, they immediately backed off. She wasn’t his, but he’d be lying if he said that their reaction didn’t give him immense satisfaction, because the last thing he wanted to do was watch Stephanie hook up with another man tonight.

  Raina, Paige, and Jillian made it up to the second level, and their husbands went to greet them, while Rick joined him at the railing and followed his gaze to the woman still down below.

  “So, I see Stephanie made it after all,” Rick said, his tone derisive.

  Mac had expected Rick’s reaction, considering he’d denied the other man the opportunity to issue Stephanie an invitation to the club—as his guest. But now that she was here without a date, he realized that Rick was still free to act on his interest and attraction.

  He glanced at the other man, his expression carefully indifferent. “She asked for an invite tonight to get a feel for the club so she can better design three of the fantasy rooms.”

  Rick didn’t bother to temper his burst of laughter. “Is that what she told you? Because I’m going to have to call bullshit and say she lied.”

  “What makes you say that?” Mac asked, though it was a stupid question he already knew the answer to.

  “Have you taken a good look at her tonight?” Rick asked, his mouth curving with an incredulous smile. “She’s dressed like she’s looking to get fucked, and not here to make design decisions.”

  “I’m gonna have to agree with Rick’s assessment,” Dean said, adding his two cents to the discussion with his beautiful wife by his side. “That dress is the furthest thing from business attire I’ve ever seen.”

  Jillian’s eyes shimmered with something that looked suspiciously like satisfaction. “Well, then I’d say our mission with Stephanie tonight has been accomplished.”

  Mac’s jaw clenched tight. Jesus Christ, were they all conspiring against him? “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jillian reached out and patted his cheek in a placating manner. “Come on, Mac. Don’t be obtuse. A single woman only comes to a sex club if she’s looking for one thing.”

  Rick smirked. “Umm, yeah, that would be sex.”

  Mac shrugged his stiff shoulders, as if her reasons didn’t matter to him, just as Stephanie finally made her way up to the VIP section. She sipped her champagne as she greeted her friends’ husbands and conversed with them for a few minutes, her eyes bright in contrast to the black lace mask framing them. Eventually, she made her way over to where he and Rick were still standing at the railing, the sparkling choker around her neck taunting him as if it were a collar that claimed her as his instead. Wishful thinking.

  That indecent dress she was wearing was even more tempting up close. The material clung to her curves and showcased her perfect breasts, where the ends of her long, blonde hair fell in soft waves. The well-placed cutouts securing the sides exposed sections of her creamy skin from her thighs all the way up to beneath her arms, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that she wasn’t wearing a stitch of underwear.

  His entire body heated at the thought as she reached him and Rick and gave them both a sweet smile that contradicted just how sinful the rest of her looked.

  “Hi, Mac,” she said in a polite tone that annoyed the hell out of him before turning her gaze to the man standing beside him and greeting him a bit more favorably. “Hey, Rick.”

  “Nice to see you at the club,” the other man replied, a charming grin spreading across his handsome face. “Mac tells us you’re here for research for those fantasy rooms you’re designing.”

  Did the asshole really just call him out? That would be a yes.

  “Did he now?” Stephanie’s brow quirked with amusement. “Well, that’s part of the reason, but I’ve been dying to find out what really happens inside The Players Club, and so far I’m fascinated, curious, and intrigued. So, I’d say equal parts research and pleasure?”

  “Well, when you’re done with the business portion of your visit, I’d be more than happy to show you the pleasure side of things,” Rick said with a flirtatious wink.

  Stephanie’s light laughter matched the sparkle in her eyes. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

  Mac hated the way his stomach twisted with irritation . . . and jealousy. What the fuck was up with that? He’d never been the possessive type. Since his nasty divorce, he’d always made damn sure that he didn’t form emotional attachments to the women he spent time with at the club, which made walking away much easier. But from the moment he’d met Stephanie nearly a year ago, there had been an immediate spark of desire for her that burned hotter and brighter every time they were together, and that reaction was starting to seriously mess with his head.

  Sawyer called out to Rick and motioned for him to come over to their group. Rick excused himself and walked away, leaving Mac alone with Stephanie. She exhaled a breath before glancing at him.

  “Nice place you have here,” she said, her tone teasing.

  “Did you have a chance to look around on your way up here?” he asked. “You know, for research.”

  “A little bit.” Her lush, fuckable mouth curved into a smile. “Though I have to say, the place looks a lot different at night with people engaging in various sex acts in the play areas. Like I told Rick, I’ve seen enough to pique my curiosity.”

  Yeah, he didn’t want to think about that.

  She tipped her head to the side inquisitively, causing her beautiful hair to sway with the movement, and him to imagine having those strands wrapped tight around his fist. “Have you taken a look at the two rooms that I’ve started working on?”

  He’d given Stephanie keys to the place the evening he’d hired her, so she could come and go during the day as she needed to, based on her own schedule. She’d been working on the suites on the opposite side of the mansion while the remodeling on the other side was being finished up. Mac had deliberately avoided being at the club at the same time that he knew she’d be there, but later in the evenings he’d stopped by to check on the progress of the fantasy rooms and the other renovations.

  She’d only been at it for a f
ew days, but she worked quickly and he could already see the themes coming together for the stripper’s den and Arabian Nights rooms. She’d told him that the Fifty Shades of Grey fantasy would be more time-consuming because of all the details and custom work involved, but he was definitely impressed by what he saw so far with the other two suites.

  “I took a look when I arrived earlier today,” he said. “I see you already have the stripper pole and stage set up.”

  “I’ve made some pretty good connections with certain suppliers the past year and they’re used to my I-need-it-now requests,” she said of the sexy stripper apparatus. “Do you need a demonstration to make sure that pole was installed to your satisfaction?”

  Her words were a tease and a temptation that took every effort to turn down. “No, I’m good,” he forced himself to say. “I have a pretty good imagination.”

  “I’m sure you do.” She released a sigh that sounded like it was edged with frustration, then finished the last of her champagne and set the empty glass on a high-topped table nearby. “Well, it’s been nice chatting, Mac, but I think I’m going to go and do some . . . research.”

  And with that, he followed the sway of her hips as she walked out of the VIP area, trying not to think about where that research was going to lead her.

  Chapter Four

  Mac turned at the railing, his hands wrapping tight around the cool metal across the top, while his gaze tracked Stephanie as she wove through the crowd down below and toward the exit that led to the main area of the club. Men stopped her along the way, and he had no doubt there were offers being issued, but she seemed determined to make her way out of the masquerade party . . . and into the den of iniquity.

  “Are you seriously going to let her wander around the club on her own?” Dean asked, suddenly appearing beside Mac and following his line of sight. “Because you and I both know she won’t be by herself for long. If Rick doesn’t realize she’s gone and go after her first, some other guy will.”

  Mac didn’t respond. He didn’t want to care about what she did, and she’d probably be better off with someone other than him for a variety of reasons. But she had no idea what to expect in a place like this, and the last thing he wanted was her winding up in an uncomfortable situation or getting in over her head without realizing it.

  “And . . . there goes Rick,” Dean said, and clapped Mac on the back. “Looks like your time for making excuses has just run out. You either need to do something about Stephanie or be okay with the fact that someone else is going to show her the ropes tonight, so to speak.”

  He battled with his conscience, but as soon as he saw Rick closing the distance between himself and Stephanie, Mac reacted on pure instinct. “Fuck,” he bit out, and shoved away from the railing and hurried to catch up to Rick. Once he intercepted the other man, then he’d deal with Stephanie.

  The masquerade party was in full swing, and Mac maneuvered his way through the crowd as quickly as he could, until he reached the entrance back into the main part of the club, where a plethora of sexual activities were already taking place. Stephanie was still in his sights, with Rick a few yards behind her and closing in, and Mac picked up his pace until he was able to grab the other man’s arm and bring him to a stop.

  “I’ve got this,” Mac said gruffly, knowing that Rick would understand exactly what he meant.

  Rick turned his head, his brows raised in surprise. “You’ve got this as in . . . you’re staking a claim on her?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m making sure no one takes advantage of her.”

  The other man outright laughed at him, a hearty, robust sound that expressed his enjoyment of the situation. “Yeah, okay, boss,” he said, his tone conciliatory. “You go right ahead and play the white knight and save that damsel in distress.”

  Mac swallowed back an annoyed growl. Rick was mocking him, and he couldn’t even get pissed off at the other man because Mac was probably giving everyone whiplash with his contradictory signals when it came to Stephanie. Pretending indifference yet getting his dick in a twist when anyone else showed interest in her.

  Without another word, Rick conceded to Mac and headed in the opposite direction of where Stephanie had wandered off . . . except she was no longer in Mac’s line of vision. His stomach knotted at the thought of her strutting around in that indecent, red-hot dress, and he expedited his search to find her again.

  She wasn’t anywhere on the lower level, where staged scenes were already underway. He made his way back up to the second landing, which overlooked the public areas below, and finally caught sight of her blonde hair and red dress in one of the alcoves. As he slowly neared, he realized Stephanie’s gaze was riveted to a threesome, and he stopped for a moment to take in her reaction to the provocative entertainment unfolding in front of her.

  The woman in the trio was completely naked, her arms stretched high and secured to a hook above her head. One man was kneeling between her spread legs, his mouth fastened onto her pussy, while his partner lashed her back, ass, and thighs with a leather flogger. The welts forming on her smooth, creamy skin, along with her soft, eager cries each time the strap snapped against her flesh, indicated she liked a little pain with her pleasure.

  And clearly, Stephanie liked watching. At some point she’d taken off her black lace mask, and her eyes were wide as she visually devoured the titillating ménage. Her lips were parted and damp from her absently licking them. Her skin was flushed with arousal, and her fingers absently fluttered against the base of her throat, where her pulse was undoubtedly beating wildly. Beneath the tight red fabric of her dress, her breasts rose and fell rapidly in time with her increasing breaths each time the woman was whipped by the man behind her.

  Just like any other member or invited guest, Stephanie had been required to submit the mandatory paperwork that included her personal information, a confidential background security check, and health screening. There was also a questionnaire that indicated her soft and hard limits, and while “multiple partners” had surprisingly been a hard limit for her, she clearly had no qualms being a voyeur to a three-way. The fantasy of it definitely turned her on.

  He quietly moved into the alcove next to her, startling her with his sudden and unexpected appearance. She stiffened as if bracing herself to possibly fend off an unwanted advance, but as soon as she turned her head and realized it was him, her expression immediately softened with relief.

  Then, a cheeky smile touched her lips. “Are you stalking me, Mr. MacMillan?” she teased.

  He found himself grinning back at her. “Not at all. I just thought I’d check to see how your research is going.”

  She glanced back at the threesome before returning her gaze to him, the depths of her blue eyes still glimmering with heated desire. “The research has been . . . enlightening.”

  “I take it you like to watch?” he asked, his voice low and curious.

  She laughed huskily. “Who doesn’t?”

  “And what about being watched?” The question was bold and direct, and probably more intimate than he should have allowed when he was trying to stay on the friend zone side of the line between them. “Do you like that, too?”

  “Depends on who’s watching me,” she replied, just as candidly. Turning fully toward him, she leaned back against the railing and gave him her complete attention, the trio down below forgotten for now. “I’m not into exhibitionism, especially in public places, but I think it would be super hot if a man I was attracted to was watching me while I touched myself for him.”

  “Would be?” he repeated, catching on to those telling words. “As in, you’ve never actually done it before?”

  “Sadly, no,” she said with a half smile that was equal parts wistful and disappointment. “Unfortunately, the men I’ve dated have been all about getting to the main course, and not enjoying long, drawn-out foreplay.”

  Obviously, she’d been screwing the wrong men, because building that sexual anticipation was one of the hottest part
s of fucking. It was one of the reasons he liked having control so much, because it forced both him and the woman he was with to experience every heightened sensation until there was no other option but to combust from all the heat.

  “What about you, Mac?” she asked, tipping her head to the side so all that soft, blonde hair shifted enticingly across her bare shoulders. “Do you like to watch? Because I would let you watch me touch myself, you know.”

  The invitation was shining in her eyes, tempting him beyond reason and making his cock hard as stone. The word yes ached to roll off his tongue, except he knew watching her wouldn’t be enough. He’d want so much more. He’d want control, with her restrained and her body under his command while he pushed her past her comfort zones in order to reach dizzying peaks of pleasure. He’d want to shock her, both mentally and physically, until the pain he inflicted finally morphed into an exhilarating rush of desire.

  And then he’d want to start from the beginning and do it all over again.

  Except she had no clue how intense things could get. That she’d be expected to leave her independent, strong-willed nature at the bedroom door and obey his orders without inciting a power play, or she’d suffer the consequences. A stubborn woman like her wouldn’t submit easily, and therein lay his greatest fascination with her, to be the one to make her surrender everything to him, willingly, and his biggest fear, that his aggression would be more than she’d anticipated and the safe space he’d spent the past fifteen years building around him would implode, as it had with his ex-wife.

  Jesus, this woman made him feel so fucking conflicted, and it took effort for him to exhale a deep breath, shake his head, and refuse what she was offering. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t play with innocents.”

  “Innocent?” she echoed back to him, amusement lightening her tone. “I’m not a virgin, Mac. Far from it, if that’s your concern.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant.” And she knew it, the vixen. “Let me rephrase my answer. I don’t mess around with women who aren’t experienced with the dynamics of my dominant personality, and what’s expected of them when they’re with me sexually.”