Page 100 of Worth the Risk

Epilogue

IT WAS THEIR TWICE-weekly date night, and Bella could barely contain her excitement. The kids could stay home alone for a few hours, but they preferred Grandma Marjorie’s company. She usually took them out for pizza and ice cream at Two Scoops, a quaint little mom-and-pop ice cream shop with an old-fashioned soda fountain near Dan’s house. And, unless the weather prevented it, she’d pick them up in her Jeep with the top down.

The vehicle replaced her scooter two years back, a concession to her worried son after she’d wiped out and fractured a hip at age seventy. Afterward, they often went to the go-karts and batting cages, where Marjorie refused to be a spectator. Or they stayed in and piled up on the couch eating junk food and watching low-budget movies, which they all loved.

Bella had to put her foot down about horror movies after the last time when Emily had nightmares for a week. Even though Dan’s mom had much more experience raising kids than Bella did after her brief six-week stint as a stepmom, Marjorie had listened and planned an action movie marathon for tonight.

Dan and Bella’s schedule only included one stop: the playroom at Club Decadence.

In the immense play space, they could hear the band through the wall, the sound muted, but the bass beat reverberated through the floor, sending ripples of vibrations up Bella’s legs. The scent of sweat and excitement lingered in the air, mixing with the musky aroma of leather and latex. The sounds of the crowd blended together into a low hum, occasionally punctuated by raucous laughter or cries of intense pleasure. Above it all, the crack of the whip sliced through the noise, sending shivers down Bella’s spine.

When he drew his arm back then sent it forward with a snapping motion, the report, nearly as loud as a gunshot, made Bella flinch. The lash never connected with skin, however. The mirrored wall behind the whipping post reflected the growing circle of onlookers outside the ropes. Their anticipation was palpable, every eye fixed on the scene unfolding in front of them.

Once more, the whipwhooshedthrough the air. The sound that followed this time was an indrawn hiss, and a moan that was a mixture of ecstasy and what she hoped was good pain. Bella’s body jerked again as a thin red line the width of the single tail whip appeared. The scent of leather and sweat hung heavy in the air, and, with each subsequent lashing, the sounds repeated almost identically.

“I don’t like the way you flinch with every stroke,” Dan grumbled in her ear. “We’re going.”

He didn’t give her a choice. With her hand in his, he left the scene between Master Alex and Marcy behind.

“She seemed to be enjoying herself,” Bella said, scurrying to keep up.

“They’ve done that scene before. They’re well matched.”

“How did I work with Marcy and not know she’s a masochist?”

“Most people don’t broadcast their preferences to the world, Bella. Or did you expect her to wear a badge?”

“Around here. That would actually be helpful.”

She saw more than heard his laughter in the shake of his shoulders. As they passed a spanking bench, the threesome, having reached their big moment, cried out sequentially, and really loudly. Bella would have stopped to further investigate who, what, and how, but Dan didn’t slow the least bit, and the tug on her hand kept her going.

“Do you want that with me?”

That stopped him in his tracks, and he twisted to look at her, scowling. “A threesome?”

“What? I... No. I meant the whip.”

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