Chapter 85: Angel
She didn't care for the club. It wasn't just Club El Diablo, it was any BDSM club. It went against her upbringing, which was actually funny. Angel's family would have her blood on their hands if they knew she lived. It would be an honor killing to avenge her rape and torture at the hands of the men who, through no fault of her own, defiled her. The wives of her dead husband orchestrated her sale into human slave trafficking after his passing. Her biological family would feel sadness over her death, but do their duty. Their attitude would change if they knew she willingly gave her body to two men. It wouldn't matter that she loved them both. Her death under those conditions wouldn't be quick.
Looking around the club, she knew she shouldn't carry the burdens of a religion she forsook, but seeing the scantily clad or naked men and women made her cringe.
Sir granted two favors. She wore a long, gauzy dress minus underclothes and wore Master's collar with leash grasped within Sir's strong hand. He gave her license to use high protocol, though she knew it made him uncomfortable. They'd showered and dressed in Master's hotel apartment suite and then took a private elevator to Club El Diablo.
The sounds of music thrummed in a low, sexy beat, but did nothing to dispel her apprehension. Why was Sir insisting on something that she deemed as punishment? Angel shouldn't question his dictates and maybe it was him that needed to get out of the isolated surroundings of Master's home.
Eyes downcast in submission, she followed Sir to the brightly lit carousel. It slowed and finally came to a stop. "I'm sitting you on a bench instead of astride a pony due to your... condition." He gave a slight grin and winked. "The club's attendants will keep an eye on you. No Dom but me can approach you while you're on here."
She didn't stop to think, just grabbed his hand, shaking her head frantically. "Please, Sir, no."
He pulled her in close and kissed the skin just below her ear. "Behave. You can do this. I won't be far."
Her hands fell away and, for his sake, she controlled herself. Bringing her here and then leaving her alone made no sense, but somehow she'd brought this on herself. He lifted her up onto the carousel and unclipped the leash from her collar. "Hold this while I'm gone." He stood back and nodded at the attendant controlling the motion of the machine.
She sat down as the carousel began to spin. When she came back around, Sir was gone. She scooted as far to the inside of the bench as she could.
"Are you okay?"
The concerned feminine voice startled Angel. Looking behind the colorfully painted pony, she saw a scantily dressed, very pregnant sub holding onto one of the few non-moving ponies. The woman's beautiful smile, decorated with lip piercings, flashed pearly white teeth.
The melodic voice was at odds with the sub's hard-core appearance. Before Angel could respond, the woman continued, "I'm being punished, and I'm supposed to be reflecting upon my behavior. What about you?"
Angel couldn't help giving a small smile. "I'm fairly certain I'm also being punished."
"That no good jerk."
"What?" Angel wasn't sure she heard the woman correctly.
"If you're being punished it's his job to let you know what it's for. My brother will not put up with that shit. He can find you a Dom who knows what he's doing and get rid of the jerk for you."
Shock ran through Angel's mind. "Your brother?"
"Damian, the owner of the club. He hates when I come here, because it makes him uncomfortable." She smiled with a touch of vexation. "I'm being punished because Brandon, my husband, pissed me off last night and I became a little exuberant in my rebellion. Now," she looked around the club, "back to discussing the jerk."
Angel's smile grew-this girl's protectiveness broke the ice. Laughter tinged her voice, "He's actually not a jerk. He will explain why I'm here later. This is one of the few times he hasn't coddled me."
"We need to talk, girlfriend." The woman sat down on the bench, eyed the leash in Angel's hand and the collar around her throat. She asked, in a completely straightforward manner, "Are you his slave?"
Angel didn't feel threatened by the question or feel that the woman was passing judgment. She answered honestly, "I'm not a slave to Sir, but I am to Master. Both men care for and protect me."
"Yowza! Is Master as yummy as Sir?"
A giggle escaped Angel's throat. "Yes."
"I'm Willow. It's nice to meet you." She placed her hand out and Angel shook it and told Willow her name. Then Willow's hand went to her rounded belly. "This rascal won't stop kicking tonight. I don't think he likes the music, or maybe he plans to be a kick boxer when he's older."
Angel's eyes drifted to the large tummy holding the little fighter and her heart swelled with longing.
"Do you want to feel?"
Angel's hand tentatively lifted and Willow quickly took it in hers and placed it on the side of her stomach. Two musical beats later, the baby gave a fierce kick and Angel jumped. Willow's laughter was infectious and Angel joined in, hoping the baby would kick once more. Angel didn't notice the slowing of the carousel until an unknown deep voice blasted louder than their laughter.
"You can't even take a punishment without getting into trouble."
Angel jerked her hand away and looked into smiling eyes, softening even further as they traveled to Willow's stomach.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, though didn't seem concerned.
"Yes, I've found a new friend and we're exchanging birthing stories." Willow's voice held just a touch of pique.
"Is that supposed to scare me off? You've never given birth, so your version will leave something to be desired."
"Funny that you use that word. 'Desire.' I like that word."
He shook his head and his grin widened as he looked to Angel. "Don't let her get you into trouble. I'm keeping count of all her transgressions until after the baby's born. She won't be able to sit down for a month."
"It's not her getting my sub into trouble, it's you. Why are you speaking with my sub when she's off limits on the carousel?"
Willow's husband turned then enveloped Zach in a strong hug before pushing back. "Zach, you devil, it's great to see you."
Zach laughed and pulled the other man close again, thumping him on the back. "Is this your wife? Damian's sister?"
A strangled noise came from Willow and then she said icily, "Damian's sister has a name and it's Willow."
Zach ignored her and just lifted an eyebrow at the other man. Angel seldom saw Zach or Monroe with other people. Their lives revolved around each other, but now she noticed a lightness in Zach's eyes and realized they might be at the club for another reason than what she thought.
The other man laughed. "Forgive my wife. She's getting away with murder right now and driving her Dom crazy."
"Would your slave like to join me and Angel for a drink?" The humor in Zach's gaze let them all know he was teasing.
"My slave needs a couch so she can rest her head in my lap. It's the only sex I've received this past month."
Willow smacked her husband on the arm, "That's so not true." She then made introductions. "This is my husband, Brandon." She turned from Angel and spoke to Brandon, "I actually would prefer a couch. My back is killing me. But, I need the ladies room first."
Brandon lifted Willow off the carousel like she weighed nothing. Willow looked at Angel. "I love when he goes all manly."
"Two thousand six hundred and four," Brandon said.
"Oh, I'm sorry if you enjoy counting my future punishments but you totally made that number up. I don't have time to argue though, because I need to pee. Come on, Angel. Go with me, please."
Angel looked to Zach, who put his hand out. She had no idea what he wanted.
"The leash."
Her cheeks turned red as she handed it over.
"Go on, maybe you can keep her out of trouble." Zach made a shooing motion with his hand. "We'll meet you ladies at the bar."
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