Free and Bound Page 7

  He said, “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.”

  Now Gavin smiled. “Are you lying?”

  “None of your freaking business.”

  He eyed her steadily, the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes deepening. “It would be if you were my sub.”

  “And yet,” she said.

  “No,” Gavin said. “Not yet.”

  Olivia shook her head, and wished she didn’t find arrogance both irritating and so freaking hot she could barely stand it.

  “I really was looking for you, and I didn’t want to go outside,” she said. “I didn’t know this was your private room, but I should have left immediately. I’m sorry.”

  She took pride in her ability to apologize.

  “You don’t have to do this party tonight, Liv,” he said, pushing off the wall. “Getting you to talk to Aaron Black isn’t going to help much if your heart’s not in it.”

  She glared at him.

  “Who?”

  “Swing vote on the city commission—we get him to vote for us and we’re golden. He’s a Dom out of Mississippi, but he doesn’t trust me. And he’s coming tonight. It’s why we’re throwing the party.”

  “Well, I appreciate your concern, but I’m a professional. If I say I can play a role, I can play a role.”

  Gavin looked at her, impassive.

  “Ok. You can also stay up here, if you’re not ready. Doesn’t all have to be at once.”

  “No.” Olivia was getting angry all over again. “I’m fine. I’m annoyed at you and I’m annoyed at myself for last night, but I’m a grown woman, and I am fine. I have a job to do, and I will do it.”

  They stared at each other.

  “You could apologize, too, you know,” she said.

  Gavin walked past her into his bedroom and pulled his dirty t-shirt over his head, tossing it in a hamper across the room. He was still sweaty from whatever he’d been doing outside, and the sun from the skylight hit his tanned body as he moved. Olivia stared, mesmerized by the muscles gliding under his skin.

  He grabbed a towel and turned, and when he looked at her again there wasn’t any smile to it.

  “I fucking hated seeing you hurt,” he said. “But I am never going to lie to you, Liv. Never. And I’m not gonna apologize for that.”

  They stared at each other in silence until Olivia started to feel herself flush, and turned away.

  After a second she heard him say, “Charlie’s on her way here with your stuff. She and my buddy Blue are going to come help you get ready.”

  She forced herself to look up at him in order to draw the most pathetic line in the sand ever drawn.

  “I can dress myself,” she said.

  “Not without clothes you can’t,” Gavin said, and threw a towel over his shoulder. Then he grinned. “But you should still let Blue pick out your dress.”

  “Should I be offended by that?”

  Gavin ignored her. His gaze had intensified, if that was even possible. Olivia could feel each and every place he looked, nerves lighting up under her skin, trailing curling paths of pleasure that coiled to her core.

  He said, “What’d you think I was gonna do when I caught you snooping around?”

  She looked at the various shapes hidden beneath those clean, white sheets. She thought about his hands, and that tension started up again, pulsing a little deeper inside her. God, she wished she knew.

  “No idea,” she said.

  “Lying again,” he said. “If you were my sub, you’d be over my knee by now.”

  Oh God.

  She didn’t totally trust herself to speak. But she couldn’t let him win.

  “I’m not in character yet,” she said.

  Gavin laughed and walked by, his muscular body turning even that into an athletic feat. “You’re going to have to get used to it up here anyway,” he said.

  “Wait,” she said. “What?”

  “Curtain’s in a few hours,” he said, padding into his private bathroom. “I’ll be back to collect my sub.”

  Slowly, Olivia let out a long, deep breath, and watched him close the door. Well, the way she felt when he said that sealed it.

  If Olivia was going to have any hope of saving the club—and her career, and the family business, and her brother’s tuition, and whatever else she couldn’t think of right now at this moment—without totally losing it, she was going to have to get this done quickly. Like, tonight, at the party. If she could convince this Aaron Black person that Club Volare was a good place, they’d earn Black’s swing vote and this would all be over. And that meant putting on the performance of a lifetime as Gavin’s sub.

  One night, and you can go back to real life.

  Whatever that was, anyway.

  “So you and Gavin Colson,” the woman called Lady Blue was saying.

  Olivia nodded, and avoided Charlene’s frantically confused look. “Yup,” she said. “Me and Gavin Colson.”

  “You are…?”

  “We are.”

  Still not a lie, technically. They did have a thing for a week a few months ago. And she still thought about him enough that he was a present-tense kind of guy in her mind.

  She just hadn’t had a chance to explain any of this to Charlene yet, which might explain why Charlene was looking at her like a googly-eyed fish.

  “So you’re his submissive?” Blue said.

  “I mean, I’m new to all of this,” Olivia said. “But yes.”

  “You’re his sub and his girlfriend?”

  This appeared to be a more challenging concept than Olivia had anticipated. She’d known about Gavin’s relationship rules, obviously, but she hadn’t thought the idea of Gavin in a committed BDSM situation would be like finding out a preacher owned a strip club. Apparently the man’s commitment issues ran pretty deep.

  Olivia shrugged. “It’s new,” she said.

  “So new,” Charlene said, recovering her ability to speak. “Like you wouldn’t believe how new.”

  “And yet you saw it coming,” Olivia said.

  “I did!” Charlene said, laughing. “I absolutely did.”

  Blue eyed them both, and then gave her own shrug.

  “Well, honey, you ever been to one of these things before?” Blue said, her heels clicking on the attic hardwood as she walked toward the suitcase full of Olivia’s clothes. Olivia still had no idea how Charlene managed to wrestle it all the way from Olivia’s hotel to the club.

  “Nope,” Olivia said. Then she paused. She looked uneasily at Blue. “Is there anything special I need to know?” she called out.

  “Just be yourself and you’ll be fine,” Blue said over her shoulder.

  She wished everyone would stop saying that.

  “Liv!”

  Somehow Charlene had figured out how to whisper-yell. Olivia wanted to laugh, but she kept it quiet—Blue wasn’t that far away, and she didn’t know who to trust with the whole “this is entirely a ruse” thing. It made her feel crappy to think about lying to people, but it wasn’t like she had much choice.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered back. “I promise I will tell you all about it later. Seriously.”

  “There’s more?” Charlene clapped softly.

  “Try to contain your glee.”

  “No.”

  Olivia sighed. “What do you know about Aaron Black?”

  Charlene’s jaw dropped.

  “Wait, you’re gonna talk to Aaron Black tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “To try to convince him to support the club?”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “As Gavin’s sub?”

  “Ok, is there something I should know?”

  Charlene looked at her.

  “Please,” she said, finally. “You are the safest you could ever be with Gavin Colson, but he can’t protect you from how you feel.”

  Well that was a splash of cold truth. The shock of it clicked something into place: Gavin wasn’t being apologetic when he told he
r she could sit the party out. He just didn’t think she could handle it.

  Now that pissed her off.

  “You ok?” Charlene said as Blue came tottering back toward them, her arms full of little black dresses.

  “I’m golden,” Olivia said. “And I am going to nail this.”

  “Uh-huh,” Charlene said, clearly disbelieving at least one of those statements. “Any idea what you want to wear?”

  “Well, ladies, knowing Gavin as long as I have, I have some thoughts on that,” Blue said as she unloaded practically every dress Olivia had with her onto a sheet-covered couch. “I think the main question you want to ask yourself is—which one of these are you going to miss the least?”

  Charlene started to laugh again.

  11

  Olivia looked so good, Gavin almost didn’t care that she was already messing with him.

  Almost.

  Still, though. Could look at that woman forever, even in a dress that wasn’t going to last. She’d come down the main stairs like an athlete comes up to the starting block. Like a woman who wanted to win at something. Except she hadn’t listened to Blue, and now she was wearing something that covered too much skin. Gavin wondered whether she knew how that read in this room.

  Maybe.

  The way she watched him come for her said she didn’t know. It said she was going to make his job harder because she was pissed off. Too bad. His job was keeping her safe. And after last night, to make sure she didn’t push herself too far or too fast.

  “I said I would come get you,” he said.

  Olivia raised her chin the barest centimeter. “I was ready,” she said.

  “No, you weren’t.” He pulled her to the side of the stairs, then to the foyer that connected the great room and the living room, both full of people who were starting to pay attention.

  “What are you wearing?” he said.

  “A dress.”

  “A lot of dress.”

  Olivia looked over the party, on both sides of them. He knew what she was seeing: a lot of scantily clad subs, male and female. A whole lot of skin. Not all of it on subs, but still. She stood out like a provocation. People were watching.

  The show they were putting on for the world had started.

  Gavin tried not to roll his shoulders, the way he did when something annoyed him, and handed her the wristband.

  “Put this on.”

  “Why?”

  Gavin inhaled.

  “I was teasing,” she said, and rolled the band onto her wrist while she looked up at him with those big brown eyes. “Does it claim me as your sub? Which color is which? The purple for—”

  “It says you belong to me.”

  Gavin heard her breath hitch. She was trying to prove a point, and finding it harder than she thought it would be.

  “If I think you’re not taking this seriously, and therefore putting yourself in harm’s way, Liv, I’m going to call it off. The whole thing. You understand me?”

  “I understand perfectly,” she said. “And if you keep condescending to me, I’m going to call it off. You understand me?”

  They stared at each other.

  Goddammit he wanted her. He wanted her naked, on the stairs. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted her on all fours on the goddamn stage, with all of these people still watching. He wanted the whole goddamn world to know she was his.

  “Don’t treat me differently because you feel sorry for me,” she said.

  “I’m going to treat you like my submissive, Liv, because, right now,” he said, and for the first time since the previous night when everything had gone to shit, he touched her, his hand flat on her stomach, and felt her shudder. “You are my submissive.”

  She held eye contact, the soft flesh of her belly shuddering under his hand.

  He said, “Any red lines?”

  She watched him quietly for a beat. Studied him.

  She said, “No red lines.”

  Gavin knew all about the research she did for that Submit and Surrender movie, and he knew it would have been his brother Ford and Ford’s wife, Adra, who taught her. Olivia knew exactly what that meant.

  But she didn’t know herself. That was why she was here.

  “That you know of,” he corrected. “You have no red lines that you know of.”

  “Excuse me?” she said.“Gavin, you—”

  “Quiet,” he said.

  He said it low, and he said it without urgency—just in that tone of voice that resonated with a sub. It always stopped her up short. Olivia seemed surprised by it every time.

  “The club’s got a few rules I was gonna tell you about before we came down,” he said, and backed her up against the wall. She was breathing heavily now, her eyes locked on his. “The big one is no non-consensual contact. Someone wants to touch you, they get consent. The thing you’re wearing on your wrist says you give me implicit consent that we’ve negotiated between us, so no one will bat an eye unless they hear safe words.”

  Olivia nodded, and held his gaze.

  “Because I’m yours,” she said.

  He stiffened. He was already half-hard, his balls beginning to ache, part of him already thinking about the things he would do when she was his. And the audience was still watching.

  This was going to be a tough night.

  “That’s right,” he said, and slowly pinned her hands above her head. “Mine. My sub when we’re in public. You break rules, you get disciplined. And I said be quiet.”

  He could hear her soft, shallow breaths.

  “And I,” she said, just as slowly, “have questions.”

  Gavin grinned. “Unless you have questions.”

  Olivia fought off a smile, but Gavin was glad to see even the ghost of one after last night. He let her hands go and watched her try to hide her disappointment.

  “I’d like to get this done tonight,” she said at last. “So you have any notes for me on character before I go try to save your club?”

  “Don’t push yourself, Liv. But otherwise,” he said, “just be yourself.”

  That was not what Olivia wanted to hear. She looked like she was trying to shoot lasers out of her eyes. But that didn’t stop it from being true. Any Dom or Domme that Gavin wanted in the club should have the skills to pick up on conflicting messages, even from a professional actress. They’d know if she faked too much.

  “And if anyone else messes with you, you tell me,” he said suddenly. “If Aaron Black so much as looks at you wrong, you tell me. Anyone makes you uncomfortable at all, and you fucking tell me. Even if the person who’s bothering you is me.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said.

  Not for the first time, Gavin wished he could trust someone when they said that.

  “You are my sub. My job is to keep you safe,” he said. Gently he threaded his fingers through her hair, brushing his thumb against her temple when she leaned into his touch. “And that includes keeping you safe from yourself, if I have to.”

  Olivia took a long, shaky breath.

  “I think I can use safe words without your help,” she said.

  Time to find out if that’s true.

  “What are they?”

  The bass in Gavin’s voice reverberated throughout Olivia’s entire body. How did he do that? It made it impossible to think. That, and every time someone told her to just be herself she wanted to tear her hair out or flip a table or something. Only people who didn’t have responsibilities could afford to think that way. Olivia had promises to keep, and she had to get this done in one night or she would lose her mind. Her feelings weren’t important.

  At least they weren’t supposed to be. Gavin made it really hard to do anything at all other than feel.

  She pressed the palms of her hands flat against the wall at her back, and wished he’d pin her again.

  “What?” she said.

  “Tell me your safe words,” he rumbled.

  “You already asked me that yesterday. And back at the hotel, in
case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I’m not messing around, Olivia.”

  She looked at him, carefully. Something sparked there. This was important.

  “Red, yellow, green,” she recited from memory.

  Just saying them thrilled her.

  Olivia looked desperately at the party on either side of them, and again she was reminded that nobody seemed to be wearing any clothes. She was wearing a full-length plunge specifically for the cleavage, and she still looked like one of the Golden Girls compared to everyone else. How did they even get to their cars? Did they all arrive wearing trench coats?

  Gavin said, “Look at me.”

  Damn.

  His eyes weren’t brown, and they weren’t black. They were a very dark gray. And now she couldn’t look away.

  “How many times do I have to tell you the safe words?” she said.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Let’s see if you know how to use them,” he said.

  “I—”

  Sharp breath. His hand. Her stomach, again.

  She fluttered under his touch, a stuttering body shudder. Gavin trailed his fingers up the center of her, between her breasts, along the line of her dress up to the strap resting on her shoulder. He slid his fingers under it and tugged on her bra strap.

  “Trouble is, my sub wouldn’t be wearing this,” he said.

  Olivia swallowed. “Probably not,” she said.

  Slowly, deliberately slowly, he pushed the straps of her bra down over her bare shoulders, his fingertips pressing into the flesh of her arms. He looked at her.

  Tell me your safe words…

  “Green,” she said.

  He slid his hand around her back and unhooked the clasp through her dress. He pressed his hand to the small of her back and pulled her toward him. She could have sworn she heard a growl as he looked down at her chest.

  She could barely breathe.

  “Green,” she said again.

  Just looking at him in that black leather vest—he was wearing a black leather vest!—was enough to get her going. There were muscles in his neck, his chest, his shoulders, all of them straining, like he was expending some kind of effort while standing perfectly still.