Wolfe's Lair Read online

  ‘Wow. Intriguing. But he was hot in the sack, yeah?’

  Grinning, I nodded, embracing the flush on my cheeks for once, instead of feeling betrayed by it. ‘Oh yeah. A definite ten. Fuck, Sash, he was out of this world good!’

  Sasha did a little gleeful jig on the spot, then collapsed on the sofa. ‘Oh man! This is so awesome!’ She fanned her face, her grin now matching mine. ‘The way he just threw you against the wall and kissed you like you were the air he needed to live? Fuck me, Robyn, that was seriously hot. Is he always that intense?’ she squeaked, grabbing my hand.

  ‘Yeah…’ was all I said, but internally I was agreeing with her wholeheartedly. That kiss had been volcanic in its levels of heat, and yes, Oliver was always that intense.

  ‘So…’ Sasha leaned in even closer, her voice lowering as a wicked twinkle lit in her eyes. ‘Did you do any kinky stuff?’

  ‘Um, yeah. Some.’ I was happy to talk about my relationship with Oliver, but giving Sasha full-on details of the most intimate parts of it was still a level too far for me.

  ‘Really? Did he whip you?’

  ‘What? No!’ I screeched, appalled at the idea. ‘Oh my God, is that even a thing people do for pleasure?’

  She shrugged, sipping her water again. ‘Apparently. I quite like the idea of it.’

  ‘Jesus. I don’t. No. No, he didn’t do anything like that.’ But I think I now had something to add to my hard limits list that Oliver had talked about. Whips? I don’t think so.

  And so it carried on, Sasha firing questions at me so rapidly that I could barely keep up, and me answering most of them, while still trying to come to terms with the fact that I now had a boyfriend. A kinky-arsed, absolutely gorgeous, slightly OCD boyfriend. But a boyfriend nonetheless.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Robyn

  I can’t deny that in the six weeks since returning from Barcelona I’d landed back in my old life with a bit of a bump. I was no longer spending every day and evening with Oliver, and as ridiculous as it seemed after our relatively short relationship, I often found myself missing him immensely.

  Apart from my occasional pining sessions, things with him were going far better than I could ever have imagined. Due to his current work schedule we only saw each other properly at weekends, but we also squeezed in a brief lunch on Wednesdays, because, apparently, he couldn’t go a full week without seeing me. A sentiment that had made me blush furiously when he’d first expressed it, but absolutely thrilled me.

  Three dates a week was nowhere near as much contact and time together as we’d had in Barcelona, but seeing as I was desperately trying to finish my manuscript, it was working out well for both of us. Besides, it was only temporary; my book would be completed soon, and Oliver was only this busy because his work in finance meant that this time of year was particularly hectic.

  The old saying of “absence makes the heart grow fonder” certainly seemed to the case for us, or at least “absence make the lust grow stronger” might be more appropriate, because we’d always leap on one another when we first met up, laying X-rated kisses on each other regardless of where we were or how many people might be watching.

  We’d fallen into quite a nice routine; we tended to meet at Club Twist on a Friday, where I was now brave enough to do a little bit of play on occasions. The spanking in Barcelona had triggered this further exploration, because I had enjoyed it far more than I’d expected to. I still couldn’t get over my aversion to using the beds at the club, but so far we’d used the St. Andrew’s cross in one room for a very enlightening flogging session – God, he was skilled with those little leather strands – and a bench for paddling in another. The paddling had been like a more intense spanking, and while I had enjoyed it, Oliver’s use of a flogger was still my preferred toy.

  Afterwards, he would always come back to our apartment and stay the night, often ending up staying Saturday night, too.

  Today, as I’d eaten my dinner alone, I’d decided that I was enjoying the club far more than I’d ever expected to, and had finally decided that it might be the time to look into membership.

  I grabbed my bag and wandered towards the front door, before pausing and backtracking to Chloe’s bedroom door. Poking my head around the doorframe, I saw Chloe sorting through her washing pile. ‘Hey, Chloe. I’m popping to Club Twist, you want to come with me?’

  Folding the T-shirt in her hands, she frowned as she looked at her clock, then across at me. ‘It’s seven o’clock, and it’s Thursday,’ she stated, as if that explained why she looked so confused. I suppose it was understandable; we never went to the club mid-week, and certainly never this early. ‘Are you going to see Oliver or something?’

  ‘Nah, I need to finish a chapter for my editor, but I thought I’d take a break and go over there to enquire about membership. Just see how much it costs, you know, in case I decide to join.’

  She raised her eyebrows and a small smile curled her lips. ‘My God. You’re seriously considering it, aren’t you?’

  I shrugged, embarrassed by the fact that I was indeed considering joining London’s most exclusive sex club. ‘I haven’t decided yet, but our guest vouchers won’t last forever, and seeing as Oliver is there so frequently, it kinda makes sense.’

  Biting on her lower lip, she put down the washing and gave me a cautious glance. ‘Did you ever ask him about the blonde woman I saw him with?’

  I had no doubts about Oliver’s commitment to me, but I still found myself crossing my arms defensively as I nodded. ‘Yes. He told me he’s not married and doesn’t have a girlfriend. Satisfied?’

  Chloe didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded anyway. ‘So, you’re going to join the club, then?’

  ‘I think so. Would you join?’

  She scrunched up her face. ‘If you’d asked me that a few weeks ago I’d have point-blank said no, but now … I dunno …’ She shrugged. ‘It’s a great bar, the music is awesome, and I’ve actually found some of the things there quite intriguing.’ Giving me an amused look, she grinned. ‘I know, I know. I didn’t expect to be saying that, either, but hey, there you go. I guess it depends how expensive it is.’

  ‘Come with me, then, we can ask. Then maybe grab a quick dinner somewhere on the way home.’

  ‘Dinner? Now you’ve tempted me.’ Chloe gave her hair a quick brush and glanced down at her clothes. ‘I’m in my scruffs. Let me just change my clothes and we can go.’

  It felt weird arriving at the club before the sun had even fully set, but as I glanced around the now familiar interior, I smiled. As much as it had shocked me at first, I had embraced the fact that this place embodied all of my deepest desires. The taboo thoughts that sometimes crept into my dreams, the fantasies I had never dared utter out loud, and the longing for something more from my life, something different.

  Something a lot like Oliver Wolfe.

  Just thinking about him caused a smile to pull at my lips, and I strode up to the guy manning the door and boldly expressed our interest in joining.

  Apparently, the club liked to maintain its exclusive status, so only took on a maximum of ten new members every month, and only gave out a limited number of the guest voucher booklets that we had been using up to now. This month’s quota for membership wasn’t full, so Chloe and I were taken into separate rooms to go through our various options. Once the prices had been made clear to me I sat back, genuinely surprised by how reasonable it was.

  I pulled out my wallet, slipped my Visa card out, then paused. Was I really doing this? Joining Club Twist? What the hell would my parents say if I told them? They’d be horrified! Rolling my eyes, I tried to dismiss what went on within these walls and considered it on a practical level. Meeting up with Oliver would be far easier if I could just walk in here whenever I pleased, so, dismissing my embarrassment, I signed up and paid the balance.

  I left the office with my shiny new membership card safely stowed in my wallet, and found Chloe out on the street waiting for me. As I
got closer, she shook her head and made a disgusted expression. ‘Can you believe those prices? Jesus, you’d think the place was coated in solid fucking gold or something!’

  Confused, I stopped in my tracks and frowned at her back as she stomped off down the road. Chloe spun around when she noticed my absence, and shrugged her shoulders. ‘What?’

  ‘You didn’t join, then?’

  Her mouth dropped open. ‘For three hundred and fifty quid a month? Fuck no!’

  ‘Three hundred and fifty?’ I squealed, wondering how the hell the fees we’d been quoted could be so vastly different.

  ‘Yeah. Why, what did they quote you?’ Chloe asked, looking perplexed.

  ‘Twenty quid a month if I got a year’s membership up front. I already signed up.’

  Her jaw dropped open in shock. ‘Twenty?’

  I dragged my purse from my bag, pulled the receipt from within it, and took a closer look for a second before Chloe whipped it from my hand and examined it.

  After a minute, she frowned. ‘Who was your sponsor?’ she asked, her expression just as baffled as I felt.

  ‘Sponsor? What do you mean?’

  ‘It says here in the small print that your membership was “sponsored to reduce fee”.’

  Leaning over her shoulder, I squinted at the small print, because it really was bloody tiny, but when I saw the words she had been referring to I immediately felt shock settle in my system. There was only one person who would have done that, wasn’t there?

  Oliver.

  I grabbed the receipt from her hand and charged back in the direction of the club, determined to find out once and for all.

  Behind me there was the unmistakable slapping sound of Chloe’s Converse as she tried to keep up with me, then the feel of her hand gripping my elbow as she took hold of my arm and dragged me to a stop just outside the doors. ‘You think Oliver paid it?’

  ‘Who else would?’ I breathed in exasperation. ‘But I told him very firmly that I didn’t want him to.’

  ‘Why? I’d be thrilled if a guy had just spent over four grand on me,’ she whispered, sounding slightly awed by the idea. I wasn’t awed, though, I was pissed off. I wouldn’t be reliant on anyone for money, let alone my brand-new boyfriend.

  And four grand? Was that right? Quickly calculating it, I almost gagged when I added it all up. Was that what I was worth to him? A year’s worth of fun in the sack for the grand total of four thousand two hundred pounds?

  I could see from her face that Chloe had more to say, but for some reason I couldn’t quell the furious anger inside me, and I shook my head vehemently to silence her. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it had annoyed me so much, but I knew that I felt cheap, dirty, and more than anything, irritated that he had paid for it even though I’d told him not to.

  Slamming my hand on the front door, it practically bounced against the wall as I charged back in and faced off with the woman on reception who had just sorted out my membership for me.

  ‘My membership was subsidised. Was it Oliver Wolfe who did it?’ I demanded, banging my fist down on the counter.

  Her eyes widened, and she glanced between Chloe and me before shifting uncomfortably on the spot. ‘Uh … that’s private information, I’m afraid.’

  ‘For fuck’s sakes,’ I breathed, ‘I want to cancel it, then.’

  My tirade was causing the woman to visibly squirm on the spot. ‘Umm … I’m afraid all payments are non-refundable …’

  ‘Perfect,’ I muttered, pulling my phone out to call Oliver while I was still wound up about it.

  ‘Uh … Mr Wolfe is in the bar, if you’d like to discuss it with him? He’s in a meeting with Mr Halton.’

  He was here? My eyebrows jumped to my hairline, but after glaring at the poor quivering woman, I turned to Chloe. ‘I’m going to speak to him, but this won’t be pretty. You may as well go home, I’ll be back soon.’

  She looked distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Are you sure you’ll be OK? I can stay.’

  ‘Nope, I’m fine, thanks.’ Dismissing her concerns, I spun on my heel, and charged through the entry doors, scanning the bar in search of Oliver.

  It was early, but the club still had quite a few people enjoying a post-work drink, so the task wasn’t quite as easy as I’d thought it would be at this hour.

  Oliver wasn’t on his usual stool, but as my gaze travelled over the other people at the bar, and the dancers on the floor, I finally saw his familiar broad figure on a sofa at the far side with David.

  My shoulders set back, I defiantly charged across and skidded to a halt before him. Oliver glanced up, a smile breaking on his face as he realised it was me, before melting into a frown when he took in my furious expression.

  ‘I can’t believe you! I told you I didn’t want your money, and yet you still paid for my membership! What part of no didn’t you understand?’

  Oliver watched my tirade, and his expression barely altered the entire time. It was almost as if he couldn’t hear my words, but, just as I paused to drag in some air he drew in a breath through his nose, and raised one eyebrow high. ‘I advise you to think very carefully about your volume, words, and location, Robyn.’

  There was a low, dangerous edge to his voice, one I recognised immediately as the dominant side of his personality that I now had an intimate knowledge of, and it brought me up short. It either meant I was about to get well and truly sexed to within an inch of my life, or I was about to be punished.

  Seeing as I’d just yelled at him, I could only assume it was going to be the latter.

  As I ran his words through my mind, I had a flashback to one of my first times at Club Twist, when I’d watched a Domme punish her sub because he’d been slightly sarcastic to her. At the time Oliver had said it was the etiquette of the club, and that if someone agrees to be a Dom or sub, they must act like one while within the walls of the club.

  Shit.

  I might not kneel at his feet when we were here, but for all intents and purposes I was his sub, wasn’t I? And I’d just yelled at him like a toddler having a tantrum. As panic swirled in my belly I started to wonder what the heck had prompted me to be quite so hasty and loud in my rant. I might be angry, but I was an adult, supposedly in a relationship with this man before me. I should have spoken to him in private about my irritations, not yelled at him.

  David stood up, and, after flashing me a wary glance, sidled off, leaving us to it, and making a run from whatever fallout was about to occur.

  Blinking several times, I looked at Oliver and saw his gaze sweep briefly around the room before returning to mine. There was a muscle jumping at the corner of his jaw, and his eyes were dangerously dark. He looked really frigging pissed off.

  ‘I don’t know what gave you the impression that I had paid your fees, but I didn’t.’

  What? Now that really did surprise me. Surely it had been him? If not, who else would? ‘You must have done.’ I had intended to state my claim with some confidence, but the unwavering look on his face had completely stumped me, and I ended up almost whispering it.

  Oliver gave one swift shake of his head. ‘You may believe that, but are mistaken, Robyn. You asked me not to, and I respected your wishes.’

  Staring at his unchanging expression, I could only see honesty there, and I rapidly came to the horrible conclusion that while someone had paid for my membership, it hadn’t been Oliver. I may just have caused quite a scene for absolutely no reason.

  Drawing in another breath, I glanced around and realised that every single person in here was now staring at us, and that even the music had stopped. Shit. He was one of the bosses, a Dom respected by every single member here, and I had just come in yelling my arse off like a petulant kid.

  Incorrectly yelling at him, too. Fuck.

  In the normal world, it would be like standing up in front of a packed board meeting and screaming rubbish at the CEO of the company where you worked. In other words, completely inappropriate behaviour and not to be tolerat
ed.

  Shit, shit, shit. Things between us were new, still fragile, and I was well on the way to ruining them. How could I turn it around?

  Swallowing hard, I swivelled my head back and found Oliver still sitting on the sofa in apparent relaxation, but the tension in his muscles, and the tick in his clenched jaw were obvious to me. The almost bland expression on his face was the most terrifying thing, though, because rather than being angry, the glint in his eyes seemed to be reflecting complete and utter disappointment, which was so much worse. Fuck. He’d been right when he said I had submissive traits, because suddenly I felt well and truly like a piece of shit. I did like to please him, and, realising how monumentally I had messed up, I suddenly felt sick to my core.

  ‘Oliver …’ I began, but his nostrils flared at my use of his name, and not his title. His eyes sparked with disapproval, and my knees weakened. I’d witnessed Dominants verbally chastising their subs, but Oliver’s ability to express himself through a facial expression was incredibly powerful, meaning that no words were needed. As I looked at his glare I realised that I was going to have to work way harder than a flimsy apology if I wanted to make this right.

  Stumbling towards him, I did the only thing I could think of that might vaguely appease for my outburst – I stopped just before him, and, after giving him a weak, apologetic smile, I folded down to my knees and laid my palms on my thighs. Keeping my shoulders back, I dropped my eyes down.

  I was wearing a skirt today, so the floor felt rough beneath my knees, but I dismissed it and focused on my apology. ‘I’m so sorry, Sir.’ I spoke each word loudly and clearly, so that he would hear them, and hopefully a few of the people around us, too, which might make up for the embarrassment I had no doubt caused him.

  To my dismay, he didn’t say a word, and didn’t make any move to touch me either. Shit. I didn’t want to risk looking up, but as panicked tears started to leak from my eyes, I decided to lift a hand and place it on the unrelenting muscle of his thigh. ‘Please forgive me, Sir.’

  Even with my repeated apology, he didn’t move at all, and every second ticked by as if it was stuck in thick treacle.