Dare to Submit (Dare to Love #4)(6)
Author: Carly Phillips

The lot was well lit, enabling her to see that the grounds were well maintained and the building fairly new. Nice but not excessive. Yet membership in the club was a fortune. She couldn’t afford it if Brad hadn’t insisted on making it a perk of her job. She wondered how Mr. Decklan Dare could be a cop who lived here yet be able to afford the membership. Though Brad could get her all the information she wanted on Decklan, she’d never go that far. Safety was one thing, digging and being intrusive another. This was a one-night stand, and her curiosity wouldn’t be assuaged any time soon.

Inside the apartment, she found purely masculine décor with a definite flair. A navy, white, and taupe color scheme, comfortable couches, large-screen television.

“Who decorated?” she asked, certain he wasn’t the type to hang ornate mirrors or purchase knickknacks to give the place a homier feel.

“My sister, Lucy.”

She nodded. “She has good taste.”

“It’s what she does. My brother, Gabe, runs the family business, which includes exclusive clubs around the country. Ever hear of Elite?”

She nodded, impressed. “I recently read about the opening on the island Eden.”

“That’s them. Lucy does the décor.”

“A family business yet you’re a cop.” She grinned. “Like to do things your way?”

He laughed. “More like that’s how Gabe likes to do things. My parents died in an accident when I was nineteen. Gabe took over and made sure I went to college and became a cop because that’s all I ever wanted to do. He sacrificed his needs to let me and Lucy have our own.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Decklan didn’t reply. Sympathy always made him uncomfortable. So did the knowledge that he always felt like he owed Gabe. Another reason he felt so out of control after his parents died. He might have achieved his dream of being in law enforcement, but he’d done it at his big brother’s expense. Gabe never complained. But he’d never had a choice in what he wanted to do. Gabe had become the defacto parent. It was one of the reasons Decklan gravitated toward the BDSM scene. Regaining control helped him deal with his darker emotions.

“He sounds like a great guy,” Amanda said.

“He’s an ass.”

Amanda spun to face him, her eyes wide in surprise.

Decklan shrugged. “He is. To everyone but me, Lucy, and his new wife, Isabelle. He had to be to get where he is today. But I respect him even when I want to throttle him.”

“I wish I had siblings.”

“Only child?”

She shrugged. “Unfortunately.”

He was suddenly aware of how intimate the conversation had become. More like two people getting to know one another than the reality—two people who’d come together for sex. He pushed aside the feeling that talking to her was easy and that he wanted to dig deeper into who she was. What had created the insecurities he’d witnessed earlier. The sadness he heard in her tone now.

Time to move the conversation forward. “Come.” He directed her into his small kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

She shook her head. “This kitchen is so comfortable. Do you cook?” she asked, glancing around.

“No. I usually pick something up on the way home from work. What about you?”

“I’m an expert.”

He turned her to face him, his hand beneath her chin. “If you lived in town, I’d have to have you show me your talents.” He was surprised to find he meant it.

She batted her eyelashes at him and said, “If I lived here, I just might do that.”

Cute, he thought. She was cute. “Did you eat dinner?” he asked.

“Yes, before the club.”

“Good.” He stepped closer. Her scent enveloped him. The memory of her warm and wet around his fingers brought him back to instant hardness. “Then we’re both ready for dessert.”

Her soft lips parted but no sound came out.

Pleased with her response, he headed to the refrigerator and paused, turning to face her. He had a plan and now was the time to execute. “In my bedroom now. Down the hall, first door on the right. Clothes off and wait for me there.”

* * *

Just like that, Decklan was back to being the demanding man from the club. Just like that, Amanda was wet and wanting. Knowing what awaited her if she hesitated, she found herself tempted to wait. But sensing something even better would come her way if she obeyed, she met his hot gaze, nodded, and walked off toward the bedroom.

Nerves beat at her with heavy wings. Old insecurities threatened. At the club, she always negotiated dim light, then she and her partner engaged in consensual play, bondage and submission, something she’d learned fed the need to please that lived deep inside her. Growing up, she’d always fallen short no matter how hard she tried, be it in schoolwork, sports, or most especially, her looks.

When Brad had suggested she try a BDSM club for her issues, she’d been wary. But she’d discovered he was right. In submission, she’d learned not only to accept herself, something that was obviously still in progress, but she’d also gained the satisfaction of pleasing someone else. And she really wanted to please Decklan, though she intended to keep the lights low here too. She’d desired him from first glance, and he made her want everything she could get from this one night.

With shaking hands, she stripped off her clothes, folded them, and placed them on the dresser. Cool air conditioning embraced her naked body, and she immediately glanced down at her thighs.

A clatter sounded from the kitchen, and she jumped in surprise. The noise reminded her she didn’t have much time. Remember Decklan wants you here. It was the last thought that gave her the final boost of courage to climb onto his king-sized bed, ease her bare self back against the pillows, and settle in. But not before dimming the lights.

She didn’t have to wait long. He strode into the bedroom with a bowl, spoons, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and a sexy gleam in his eyes that caused her stomach to flip with excitement.

He turned his gaze on her naked body. She knew better than to think the lack of lighting affected his ability to see, except in her mind. Only pride and the lessons learned tonight had her remaining in place.

“I thought I was dessert?” she said, eyeing the items he placed on the nightstand. She couldn’t explain the impulse or comfort level that allowed her to tease him while she was so exposed.

He rewarded her with a low growl of clear pleasure. “Oh, baby, you are.” He crawled onto the bed, his big body levering up and over hers.