Poker Posse 1: Looking at Rose Read online

  Chapter Five

  After he mounted the cage and used the hydraulic winches to lift it from the floor, Ibraham paused to look out over the gathering customers. The energy building around him brushed his skin, seeping inside, stirring the performers’ blood he’d inherited from his mother and her mother. His gaze rose to the high steel rafters and the open expanse above the second floor away from the owner’s private quarters on the third floor. He should speak to Damian about setting up a high wire or perhaps even a trapeze. There was enough room to string a safety net. That way he could indulge the aerialist’s lessons learned from his mother’s side of the family as well as the dominant ones handed down by his father’s.

  He closed his eyes and breathed deep, drawing in the scents of leather, sweat, and—peaches. He opened his eyes and scanned the sea of faces. There was no way Rose was here, he assured himself even as his gaze narrowed in on a tall woman making her way toward his stage.

  While he double-checked the couplings on the chains securing the cage to the winches holding it above the stage, he watched the one woman he least expected to see in the Omen hover behind the people standing near the green line. She watched him. The dominant within stirred to life, wicked visions of stripping her naked and playing with her in his cage rolling through his mind before he pushed the button and lowered the barred cell back to the ground. Would she be willing to finish what they’d started last night? Would he want to take her, become her first lover in front of a crowd of strangers? Would she want that?

  Once steel settled onto concrete, he walked to the edge and crooked his finger at her. Rose glanced around and saw the people staring at her. After a moment of hesitation, she slipped forward, toes touching the green line, her gaze focused only on him. He executed a forward somersault and landed in a crouch directly in front of Rose. He took his time rising, enjoying the view of her slender feet in the sexy black heels, the silky-looking skin on her legs and thighs, the way the leather skirt hugged her full hips, and how the hem of her shirt left several inches of bare belly exposed. He lifted his head and met her gaze.

  “Good evening, Rose.”

  Her cheeks were flushed, and something sparkled in her eyes. She stammered out a response, “Hello— Hi, Ibra—uh, Master V.”

  He arched the brow over his right eye. “You know my name here?” He stepped closer, raising his hand to lift a strand of her glossy black hair. The temptation to put it to his nose was there, but he tamped it down.

  The color increased along her throat. Rose nodded. “My friend told me I should address you as Master V.”

  “Hmm.” He wondered which of her friends had brought her here. In the year that he’d been frequenting the Omen, he’d spotted three of the women at separate times within the club, but, to the best of his knowledge, they’d never brought Rose before. Had her friends discussed him with her before yesterday? Was he mistaken in thinking she’d known nothing about his being a dominant last night in her shop? “And did your friend tell you anything else about me?”

  Rose shook her head. “Nothing really. Only that you like display.”

  A grin lifted his lips. Something in her voice and the way she said display assured him she had no idea what his preferred fetish entailed. But he asked to be sure. “Do you know what display is, Rose?”

  As if mesmerized, she shook her head. She seemed oblivious of the crowd milling around them. The curious looks of the novice players and keener attention of the more experienced doms didn’t register. Her whole focus was on him. As it should be.

  And he wasn’t going to let this second opportunity slip away. “It means I like people to watch,” he told her, leaning close to ease the soft strands of inky hair off her shoulders and down her back.

  A crease marred her brow, and she tilted her head to the side. “Watch?”

  Despite the inclination to loosen the strings holding her top up at the back of her neck, Ibraham chose to explore the creamy skin of her shoulders before slipping his fingertips beneath the black, sequined fabric to stroke her breasts. “Mmm hmmm. I like knowing that others’ eyes are on me when I touch my woman. Caress her breasts. Tease her nipples.”

  A breathy gasp slipped from her lips as his actions suited his words, but she didn’t protest his touch. A flush mounted her cheeks as the soft tips of her breasts hardened into peaks under his attentions.

  He rolled the firm crests between his thumbs and forefingers, giving the slightest tugs to gauge her response. “I enjoy knowing that when I strip away her clothes, she finds pleasure in the attentions of those around us. That the idea of being on exhibit arouses her as much as the act of sex itself.”

  The dazed and sultry look in her eyes assured him her body was responding beautifully not only to his caress but to his words. Her breath gusted in hot, uneven puffs against his chin and throat, arousing him and encouraging his hands to cup and knead her full breasts more firmly. When Rose lifted her hands to touch his arms, he knew she wasn’t trying to push him away, but to find balance as her body swayed closer to him. He lowered his voice so no one else could hear but her.

  “This is my secret, Rose. I like to fuck in public. To spread my woman open and bury my face between her thighs, sucking and tonguing her pretty little pussy until she’s wet and aching, begging for me to fill her up. Like you did last night. But I like to do it while an audience can hear every sigh, every whimper, every cry. They know she belongs to me. Is mine to command, to arouse, to drive over the edge of climax and beyond.”

  A soft moan whispered from her lips, but her gaze remained trapped by his. Her body arched closer. The pale pink tip of her tongue slipped out and licked her lips, leaving the pouty curves glistening and red, creating a target for him to capture. “Wh-why?” she stammered.

  He smiled and held his lips over hers, barely touching the warm flesh. “Because I can.”

  He didn’t restrict himself to a soft peck or a slow seduction this time. Oh, no. Rose had presented herself to him on his territory, and there was no turning back. Instead he took her mouth in the same determined manner he intended to claim her body. He didn’t coax or cajole her into opening her mouth to him. No, he swept in, taking what he wanted and demanding more. She gave it—willingly, enthusiastically.

  The soft curves of her body sank against him. The rub of her hips against the thick ridge of his arousal spurred him on to bite and nip, to leave his mark on her. He took her weight easily, wedging one leg between her thighs so leather rubbed against flesh, spiraling her need higher with each gentle rock forward and back. Ibraham enjoyed the fact that her height didn’t require he bend in half to kiss her, to line up their bodies for maximum effect. She fit him perfectly. Her breasts a soft, warm cushion against his chest. Her hips almost even with his. And her mouth—the sweet, succulent lips, steamy interior, and curious tongue—mere inches from his. Requiring only the tilt of their heads in order to meet. Like now.

  He abandoned her right breast to sink his fingers into the thick, silky weight of her hair, holding her head still so he could feed from her, drawing in the spun sugar and peach flavor of her mouth. The same sweet scent clung to her flesh. He ground his body against hers, and her fingers flexed, her short fingernails digging into his biceps. She responded, moving her lush, ripe body against him. This was where she was meant to be. Where he wanted her. Where he would have her.

  When his need for air forced him to stop, Ibraham drew back but didn’t release her. His gaze met hers. The dazed and aroused look suffusing her face pleased his dominant self. With one arm around her waist and the other tangled in her hair, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and whispered, “Come into my cage, Rose.”

  She blinked and began to nod when, over her shoulder, he saw a hand rise, as if to grasp Rose’s arm and steal her away from him.

  A low, throaty growl issued from deep inside his chest. He bit back the inclination to snap, “Mine!” at the usurper. Ibraham stopped himself from batting the hand away only because, after a momen
t of clarity, he recognized the person reaching for his woman. Something in the brunette’s expression set his instincts on alert. Distress clouded the dark blue eyes of Rose’s friend as she pulled her hand back, then glanced anxiously around the room before again reaching for Rose’s arm.

  “ROSE!”

  Until Ibraham looked away from her, Rose was oblivious to the world around her. Once the connection with his honey-colored gaze was lost, the sounds of voices and music filled her ears.

  A hand landed on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. “Rose!”

  Dazed and more than a little aroused, Rose used Ibraham’s broad chest for support when she turned to look at the woman beside her. One sight of Ellie’s pale face and wide eyes shot adrenaline through her veins, rousing Rose to full awareness in less time than it took to blink. She pushed away from Ibraham, aware of the cold that quickly seeped in the moment her body lost contact with his just as it had last night. “Ellie, what’s wrong?”

  Before Ellie could respond, Norah was tugging at her other arm. “Rose, we have to go. Now!” When her friend spotted Ellie, she added, “Thank God. I’ve been looking for you, Ellie.”

  Movement at the edge of the crowd drew Rose’s attention, but the moment she spotted the neat little blue pillbox hat, her heart stopped, then resumed beating twice as fast as before. “Mama?”

  “Not just yours,” Norah assured Rose. Her friend’s gaze darted around the crowd before turning toward the second floor.

  “Rose?” Ibraham’s quiet voice steadied her. He stepped up behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders, returning the warmth that had leached away seconds earlier.

  When she looked up at him, Rose was torn. Everything in her told her to stay, but the fact that her mother and possibly her friends’ mothers were in the club and might see her inclined her to run far and fast to avoid the situation. “I have to go,” she told him. She wanted to say more. Apologize. Beg for another chance.

  “Stay.” It wasn’t a request but a command. His hold tightened. The look in his eyes compelled her to do exactly as he said, but Rose shook her head.

  “I can’t. If Mama catches me here, I’ll die.” The thought of her mother finding her in the club, much less locked inside a big black cage with Ibraham, sent her heart straight to her stomach, then her toes.

  She didn’t want to see the disgust in his face. It was a sure thing that he would find her fear of facing her mother infantile, further proof that she was nowhere near his league, but she’d deal with that later. Another glance at the crowd showed that the little blue hat was drawing closer.

  When she turned back to him, Ibraham wrapped his fist in her hair and tugged her against his chest. Against her lips, he ordered, “Wait for me in your shop tonight. I’ll be there by one.” His kiss was fierce but short. “Go. I’ll keep her busy.”

  Kicking off her heels, Rose scooped them up, then pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

  He nodded, then turned away, parting the crowd easily on his way toward Viola Whittman. Rose stared after him until Ellie tugged on her arm.

  “Come on, Rose. We have to go.”

  Trying to remain inconspicuous was easier for Norah and Ellie with their average heights. For Rose it was a crucible of stepped-on toes and strange looks as she hunched down so she couldn’t be seen. Halfway across the room, she was separated from her friends and almost had a heart attack when Ellie’s mother, Miss Lucy, backed into her. A shift in the crowd and a lunge to her left kept Rose from discovery, but she hurried her steps as the double doors to the entryway loomed ahead of her.

  They made it through the door and onto the sidewalk without getting spotted by any of their mothers. While they caught their breath and Rose slipped her shoes back onto her mashed toes, Ellie gasped, trying to catch her breath, and asked, “What are they doing here?”

  “They?” Rose asked.

  “I don’t know. The second I spotted Miss Mabel upstairs in her red suit, I lit out to find y’all.” Norah pushed her sweat-dampened bangs off her forehead. “I nearly ran over Miss Raelene and Mama while I was trying to signal Ari.”

  Ellie looked around. “Where is Ari? And Mirrie?”

  Rose shook her head, disbelief evident in her voice. “All of them are here?”

  Norah and Ellie nodded.

  Leaning against a lamppost, Rose concentrated on slowing down her racing heart. “Mama was wearing her blue Jackie O dress and matching hat. Last time I saw her in it was when she browbeat the city council into keeping the book mobile, two summers ago.”

  Before anyone could respond, Ari came out of the side alley at a run. “We gotta go.”

  Ellie pulled her keys from the hip purse she wore.

  “Where’s Mirabeth?” Norah asked.

  Ari bit her lip and looked back down the alley. “She went white as a sheet the second she heard her mama’s voice and passed out. The cowboy dom doing the rope demo scooped her up and walked off with her. I tried to follow, but Master Damian promised me she was safe before he sent me out the employee entrance.”

  The sound of a pickup truck filled the night air as it exited the alley beside them and turned out of the parking lot. When it passed, Mirabeth was clearly visible, her head resting on the shoulder of the man driving, her pale blonde hair a stark contrast with the black, green, and blue plaid of his Western-style shirt.

  Rose was worried and all set to demand they follow the truck until Norah spoke up.

  “She knows him.”

  “Mirrie? How can you be sure?” Ellie demanded. She led them across the parking lot toward her sedan, Ari, Rose, and Norah on her heels.

  Norah fished her car key from her pocket. “I heard her call him Riley before I warned her that her mama was in the club.”

  All four of them froze with the doors of Ellie’s car wide open. A bubble of excitement built inside Rose. “You don’t think?”

  Ellie shook her head, “It couldn’t be…”

  Norah shrugged. “It might be.”

  Ari grinned. “Mirrie’s Riley, here?”

  The excitement turned to laughter as Rose and her friends climbed into Ellie’s car and drove the short distance to where Norah had parked. “Boy, he’s gonna have a heck of a surprise.” Rose chuckled.

  The others agreed. When Norah swung her door open, she added another little nugget of information. “Jake is back.” She didn’t wait for a response before shutting the door and hurrying to her car, leaving Rose alone in the backseat.

  Silence filled the sedan as they waited for Norah to pull out and lead the way out of the parking lot.

  Ellie waited until they were on the road to Magnolia before speaking. “Riley and Jake?”

  Ari nodded. “And they’re both dominants.”

  Rose eased back in her seat, her mind spinning at the realization that not only had Mirrie and Norah found what they were looking for, but if she did what Ibraham had ordered, she might too.

  * * * *

  Ibraham stared at the smiling woman seated across from him and tried to make sense of what she’d said. When he’d offered to head off Rose’s mother, he hadn’t been expecting the pint-size interrogator to drag him into a corner booth. Nor had he anticipated what she wanted to discuss. He couldn’t even blame the drink he’d bought her for the odd request she made, since the cola contained no alcohol.

  To make sure he understood what Mrs. Whittman had just suggested, he asked, “You want me to marry your daughter?”

  Viola laughed and shook her head, her blue eyes twinkling exactly like Rose’s did when she teased him. “Oh, heavens no, honey. I want you to…” She paused as if trying to find the appropriate words. “I want you to bed her, boink her, do the wild thing with her. You know, get tangled up in the sheets, have some hot, sweaty fun. Engage in sexual relations.” Her eyes drifted from his face to his bare chest, then back up. A sigh filled with memories and wanting left her lips.

  For the first time in a very long time, Ibraham felt himself
blush. Of all the things he’s expected to hear from Mrs. Whittman, an invitation to do exactly what he’d fantasized with the lady’s only child was the last thing he’d expected. “Mrs. Whittman, I’m—”

  “Call me Viola.” A deep well of knowledge peered out at him from her azure gaze. “Ibraham, every woman deserves an adventure in her life. One wild, insane act that they can pull out and smile over as they carry on their quiet, normal lives being the same wife, the same mother, the same person everyone imagined she’d become. My Rose has been a good girl her whole life, and she deserves a little fun.”

  Ibraham didn’t doubt that for one moment, but he knew there was more to Rose than what was on the surface. “What about what Rose wants? Don’t you want more for her than a one-night stand?”

  Her laughter drew the attention of several patrons, but Ibraham only noticed how much she sounded like Rose.

  The older woman reached out one soft hand and patted his wrist. “Oh, Ibraham, darlin’, I’m sure you’ve got stamina for more than one night.”

  That made him chuckle. “Yes, Miss Viola, more than enough stamina, but don’t you want Rose to marry, have a family? What does her father say about your plan?”

  “Of course I want that for Rose, but she has plenty of time to find the right man and settle down. As for her father, he’d more than likely agree with me. My husband, Joe, passed five years ago, and there were things he always planned to do—someday. I don’t want Rose waiting for someday. She needs more to keep her warm at night than a blanket, and right now, I’m thinkin’ you’re just the man to get her started.”

  An ominous warning stirred the hairs on the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure if he liked being considered for the role of Mr. Right Now, especially when there was more to his interest in Rose than simple sex. “Shouldn’t you be leaving this to Rose? Let her find her own men?”