My Wicked Virgin

Page 40

Leaning her head back against his chest, Sunny gave a huge yawn. “I know. Ugh, my head has finally stopped hurting, but now I’m so tired.”
“Side effect of the meds,” he murmured. “Let me take you upstairs, give you a few orgasms, and then we can take a nap.”
“Well…” She grinned up at him. “You drive a hard bargain, but I guess that sounds all right.”
Chapter 11
A flutter of excitement stirred in Sunny’s belly as they pulled past the elaborate guarded gates leading to the members only club. The elaborate and familiar façade of Club Wicked dominated the landscape as Hawk drove his luxury SUV up the winding drive leading to the main parking lot. Unlike the employee lot, hidden behind the four-story, 50,000 square foot mansion, the member’s pulled up front where a valet would meet them to take the car. Even though the entryway was hidden by a brick awning and huge bushes, Sunny still felt exposed as Hawk helped her out of the passenger seat.
Earlier in the day, they’d stopped by her place to pack up some things for her to bring back to Hawk’s house—and get an outfit for tonight. After years of working at Club Wicked, she’d amassed quite a collection of fetish wear. Though she liked to pretend she only owned all those amazingly kinky outfits for work, she loved dressing up. She liked feeling sexy, feeling desired. Working at Club Wicked allowed her to show off without the fear of someone thinking her revealing clothes made her easy prey.
Though she’d been to Wicked a thousand times, this was the first time she’d ever walked in the front door as a guest.
Denny, the valet helping them, did a double take when he saw her. With light brown hair and freckles, Denny was a good-looking man in his early twenties. He wore a gray suit and purple tie—the official uniform of the valets. Though they weren’t good friends, Sunny knew pretty much everyone that worked here. And everyone knew about her non-relationship/relationship with Hawk. Denny’s eyes went even wider as Hawk took her hand in his own and kissed her engagement ring, blatantly showing it off.
“Good evening, Master Hawk,” Denny said, his gaze focused on Sunny’s collar. “Do I have your permission to address your submissive in private for a moment, Sir?”
Sunny hid a smile at the diplomatic way the valet phrased his request. To an outsider, it might seem weird, but Wicked and the BDSM world kept particular rules about codes of conduct. Not every Dom was hardcore about protocol but some were, and everyone who worked at Wicked learned early on that it was better to be overly cautious.
“You may.”
Giving her a toothy smile, Denny suddenly looked much younger as he tugged her to the side and whispered, “Are you officially engaged?”
Feeling heat suffusing her cheeks, she nodded. “We are.”
“Hot damn,” he said. “I knew it! This is my lucky night.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s a pool among the staff as to when you guys would get engaged. Most of the money was on when you graduated, but I knew Master Hawk couldn’t wait that long.”
“You guys bet on when we’d get engaged?”
He must have heard the anger in her tone, because he cast a quick glance at Hawk, who watched them closely. “Hey, don’t be mad, we bet on everything. You know that. Weren’t you the one who won over two grand a couple months ago when you guessed who Master Craig would collar?”
Feeling a little bit like a hypocrite, her anger faded away. “You have a point.”
He smiled at her and went to hug her, but a loud growl from Hawk stopped him. “Uh, I better get you back to Master Hawk before he kills me.”
After she rejoined Hawk, she carefully brushed the front of her cream wool coat as he continued to glare at Denny’s retreating back. “If you kill the valet, you’ll never find out what outfit I picked out for tonight.”
That brought his attention back to her fast. His dark eyes burned as they slid over her long trench coat, which concealed her from neck to almost toe. His nostrils flared and he gave a barely audible growl that gave her goosebumps.
“You’re going to regret teasing me like this.”
She gave him a little smirk as desire tingled through her. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”
“Brat,” he growled as the doormen opened the big, brass-bound wooden doors that led into Wicked.
Warm golden lights bathed her as she stepped from one world into another, as if the front door was actually a portal to a land of decadence and wealth. One meant to both inspire and seduce. The three-story foyer was as big as a ballroom, illuminated by sparkling crystal chandeliers that wouldn’t look out of place in a palace. A grand, sweeping cream marble double staircase led to the second floor where an open balcony allowed those above to look down into the room below. Voices filled the space, the natural amplification making the laughter and hum of conversation louder than normal.