Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

CLARISSA

H is "good girl"? Oh, I think not! No fucking way!

The tension coursing through Clarissa's body made her ache all over. It wasn't as if she'd never done humiliation or puppy play before because she had, but it was the fact she was doing it now with the one man she'd love to go all Lorena Bobbitt on. Cutting off Landon's wandering dick would be so satisfying, if only for a few moments before she was arrested and thrown into jail. But alas, she enjoyed her freedom far too much to do something like that. At least she could fantasize, right?

She was pissed at herself earlier when he put the butt plug in her, and she moaned without thinking. Landon's touch, whether intentionally sexual or not, had always turned her on, his hands and fingers lighting up every cell in her body. For a fleeting moment there, her mind had responded to him as it had all those years ago. Never in her life had she met another man who was so in tune with her wants and needs as a sensual woman. Yes, she'd had some great sex with other men before and after her time with Landon, but none of them had ever given her the feeling of complete and utter intimacy that she found with him. When they'd been together, it was as if he was the other half of her heart and soul, which is why his betrayal had hurt so much more than her first husband's. Well, that and because she'd suspected early in her marriage to Brent that they wouldn't be together for the long haul. It was probably why they'd ended up staying friends after their divorce.

Damn it. The only reason she was still there was Mitch and Ian's threat of banishment if she caused a scene. She treasured her time in the club for more than just the kink. She had made numerous friends at The Covenant over the years—people who kept her secrets and didn't look at her funny because her preferred sexual exploits were different than the norms of society. Behind the club doors was where she truly found herself. Who she really was, deep down, was so far from her public persona that most of the world who knew her from the stage, the big screen, and the tabloids wouldn't recognize her. She didn't need to put on airs in this tight-knit community. Nobody did. That alone usually had her mind and body relaxing as soon as she walked through the doors and inhaled the distinct, enticing aroma of leather, citrus, and sex that always lingered. That she'd been nervous coming tonight should've been her first hint that something was off. Her second one should've been when Mitch and Ian had both issued their warnings to her. But it hadn't been until the third glaring clue—when she'd spotted Landon—that she realized she should've just stayed home that night. A classic movie on TMC and a rare indulgence of H?agen Dazs white chocolate raspberry truffle would've won hands-down if she'd been given a choice long before she arrived at the club. If only the owners' warnings hadn't been severely lacking in information, she still would've had a chance to feign a sudden illness and sneak out before anyone had been the wiser.

A gentle tug on her braid had her side-eyeing Landon, who patted his lap. "Come cuddle, puppy."

Oh, for crying out loud! Is he fucking serious?

Before she could respond with a scathing retort, she spotted Master Mitch standing nearby, with his D/s switch husband, Tyler, watching her and Landon with interest. Their submissive wife, Tori, wasn't in sight, but Clarissa was sure the woman was in the club somewhere.

Great. She would probably be monitored all night—at least until the event was over.

Sighing dejectedly, she straightened her back and, without making eye contact with Landon, crawled onto his lap, conscious of the fact she still had that damn butt plug in with its attached tail. He gently shifted her a little until they were both comfortable. Well, at least he was. Clarissa was stiff as a board, trying not to let the perceived intimacy of the moment seep into her body and take control of it.

Damn him. He wore her favorite cologne—Jean Paul Gaultier's Le Male Elixir Parfum. How had she not noticed that before? It smelled heavenly—purely masculine and seductive—and she fought the urge to close her eyes, stick her nose against his neck, and inhale deeply.

Surprisingly, Landon ignored her for the most part as he spoke to the Dom sitting to his right. However, he constantly petted her, from the top of her head to the middle of her back. It was as far down as he could go due to her positioning. Despite her reluctance, Clarissa found it soothing and relaxed into his touch. Minutes passed as the tension eased from her body. She didn't know how long she'd sat there before Landon put his hand against her cheek and jaw and, with the lightest pressure, encouraged her to rest her head on his shoulder. Mentally fighting him and herself for the past half-hour or so had been exhausting, so after a moment's hesitation, she obeyed his silent command. His familiar intoxicating scent filled her nostrils, causing her pussy to weep and her nipples to pebble.

This time, Landon's hand stroked her arm, but other than that, he didn't do or say anything else to her. His chest vibrated as he spoke to the others surrounding them while Clarissa reluctantly gave herself over to the calm state he put her in. She closed her eyes, silently berating herself for reveling in how good it felt to be in his arms again despite the fact she still hated him.

Well, if she were honest with herself, that wasn't exactly true. She didn't hate him. That was too harsh a word. There was still the sense of betrayal, the disappointment, and the anger over what he'd done, but contrary to her occasional fantasies of killing or castrating him, she couldn't honestly say she despised the man. A part of her would always love him, and that's what she hated.

Despite the atmosphere and her proximity to Landon, Clarissa nearly dozed off when a shriek split the air. Her eyes flew open, and she darted her gaze over her shoulder toward where the sound had come from. She wasn't the only one looking in that direction. Everyone in the immediate area clearly wondered what in the world was happening, but there were too many people in the way. It was a female causing the commotion, and it sounded more like someone freaking out in surprise and delight than anything they usually heard throughout the club.

The shrieking continued, along with some babbling. "Oh my God! Oh my God! It's you!"

Uh-oh . Clarissa had been in the limelight long enough to recognize a fan flipping out because they'd spotted a famous actor, actress, or singer. She could name at least a dozen celebrities who were members of The Covenant off the top of her head. Heck, there was even the lovely princess of a North African country who stopped in occasionally with her retired Navy SEAL husband. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the notable members blended in comfortably with those who'd never had their names and faces splashed all over the tabloids. While Clarissa loved to meet most of her fans, some were clueless about boundaries and social etiquette.

Several security guards and Dungeon Masters rushed into the crowd, presumably to shut the woman up and get her out of there. The tall Dom Landon had been talking to stood and then went up on his toes to see what was happening. After a few seconds, he rolled his eyes, shook his head with an expression of disgust, and sat back down. "It's Keith Gatlin. Some chick spotted him and is hugging the stuffing outta him. I don't recognize her, so she's either a newbie or someone's guest."

Keith was an A-list actor, and Clarissa had worked with him before. So had Landon. The handsome thirty-two-year-old man was brilliant in every role he'd ever been in, well-known worldwide, and often had fans flocking around him. She felt bad he'd gotten attacked in the private club. It rarely happened there since the owners did their best to give the members a safe place to play. Every applicant or guest, no matter who they were, was thoroughly vetted by the Trident Security team before they could walk through the front doors to The Covenant. However, occasionally, someone did go berserk when they ran into an infamous person who they'd loved and admired from afar.

The excited shouts turned to ones of distress as the woman was escorted up the grand staircase toward the front entrance, where she would probably be banned from the club permanently. A few moments later, the regular din of the crowd returned, with conversation punctuated by frequent shouts of pain, moans of ecstasy, and leather or flesh hitting flesh—the usual.

Clarissa had almost forgotten she was on Landon's lap when he cupped her chin and turned her head to face him. "I think it's time to drop the chip again, puppy. You'll crawl to the stage, and I'll remove your costume there before we find out what our next play will be."

She stiffened and narrowed her eyes at him before giving herself a mental pep talk. You can do this. Only another few hours, and it'll all be over. Then you can choose a Dom to play with who'll make you forget how good it feels to be in Landon's arms. Yeah, and if you believe that'll happen, George Strait has some ocean-front property in Arizona he'd love to sell you.