Sizzle (St. Martin Family Saga): Emergency Responders Read Online Free PDF Page A

before, so he didn’t think that was it. Still the thought of looking into soulless eyes while he pounded one out was not as appealing to him as it usually was.
    He took a good look at Brianna. Pretty, long blond hair, strong jaw, athletic figure. He wondered again why she would consent to his demands. “Can I ask you why you want sex like that?”
    She smiled and lowered her eyes. “I think I like the idea of being bound, helpless, because during the day I have a pretty aggressive job. I don’t want to have to be the aggressor during sex.”
    “That makes sense.” He took her wine glass, placed it on the table, and pulled her toward him on the bench. His gaze was intense, unblinking, but he needed her to know he was serious. “I expect you to abide by my profile rules.” He took a keycard from his pants pocket. “Room 4. Go get yourself ready for me.”
    When she stood to walk away, Augie caught his eye and nodded. Whenever he met Augie at the club, things were less intense. He assumed that Augie, whom he trusted explicitly, settled his nerves. Augie was easygoing and undemanding. Right now his index finger pointed up into the air while he held Alexis’s attention, probably regaling her with some made-up bullshit about the stars and astrology. Predictably, she giggled. Clay shook his head and stood.
    ***
    By the time Clay got to the room he’d reserved for the evening, Brianna had done everything he’d laid out in his file. She was naked except for her heels. She didn’t speak when he entered, and he was immediately aware that the spark in her personality, present earlier, was gone. She stood, head down, next to the table that held the eight-piece restraint he intended to use on her.
    Since the dawn of his membership at the club, he hadn’t wanted sex to be any other way. At thirty-five, he was convinced he‘d found the answer to his discontent. He worked hard as a fireman and wanted to fuck even harder. For him, a woman who could keep up was a key component of his philosophy. His needs were specific and anything but traditional. And not easily met just anywhere.
    He’d been an active member of the Hoodoo Pot for over five years.
    Clay had visited some hardcore clubs in Vegas—the local club was mild in comparison. And that was fine with him. His desires, once fulfilled, allowed him to conduct his daily life within the boundaries of acceptable society.
    He bound the women in a variety of positions using the equipment available at the club. What he did amounted to binding and restraining, a hard fucking, and light slapping, if they wanted that. Most did.
    He’d not had any luck finding a woman in the community who enjoyed taking it hard and rough while being restrained. To please him they would say they wanted to try being bound, to try rough sex without strings and affection, but afterward they’d cry and want to snuggle and, heaven forbid, maybe even want to talk about why he only wanted sex in that fashion. And then there was the issue of his girth. Most women were scared of his size, and so he revealed that in his profile just so there would be no surprises.
    In the past, his worst breakups had the women spouting about his brand of loving all over town. It wouldn’t do if rumors ever got back to his family, so he’d had to devise an alternate way of getting his needs met. The club offered a perfect solution and hooked him up with women who wanted to be fucked in the manner he wanted to give it to them. And he didn’t have to worry about disease or pregnancy, because all members were subjected to monthly testing.
    Clay looked to the narrow table that he’d be using. He motioned for Brianna to set her ass on it. He preferred Japanese bondage because of its aesthetic appeal, but at the club it just wasn’t practical—too time consuming and pretty intense for the woman. He didn’t want to deal with any aftercare, so he used a simple cable system.
    He picked up a fur-lined cuff and slid it across her