The Club: Ethan

  Table of Contents

  Other ImaJinn Titles by Jenna Elliot

  The Club: Ethan

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Author Note

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

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  Please visit these websites for more information about Jenna Elliot

  Other ImaJinn Titles

  by Jenna Elliot

  The Club Series

  The Club: Ethan

  The Club: Ace

  The Club: Jax

  The Club: Ethan

  by

  Jenna Elliot

  ImaJinn Books

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

  ImaJinn Books

  PO BOX 300921

  Memphis, TN 38130

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-602-4

  Print ISBN: 978-1-61194-587-4

  ImaJinn Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.

  Copyright © 2015 by Jenna Elliot

  Published in the United States of America.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  ImaJinn Books was founded by Linda Kichline.

  We at ImaJinn Books enjoy hearing from readers. Visit our websites

  ImaJinnBooks.com

  BelleBooks.com

  BellBridgeBooks.com

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Cover design: Debra Dixon

  Interior design: Hank Smith

  Photo/Art credits:

  Man (manipulated) © Konradbak | Dreamstime.com

  Background (manipulated)© Derek Audette | Dreamstime.com

  :Mcer:01:

  Dedication

  To that boy in college my sophomore year that smelled like pineapples, who said he would call me and then did. Thank you.

  Author Note

  Hotness Warning!

  This book is not intended for readers under the age of 18 due to its ridonkulously hot sex scenes, its steaming hot alpha males, and its otherwise sexy content. This series is written in three parts, one for each level of Command Performance, the club. I hope you’ll fall in love with Ethan and Mia as much as I did and stick around as I push deeper (pun intended) into the levels of the club with Ace and Jax. XOXO

  Prologue

  Ethan

  Shucking my shirt, I step close where she can reach me. “Unbuckle my belt. Unzip my jeans. But don’t open your eyes. Don’t touch my skin.”

  That takes some effort. She’s so careful that I can’t help but smile. But she gets the job done and I kick away my jeans. Now I’m commando with my fuck-ready dick swinging free. A sight to behold, even if she can’t see it.

  But I like the vision in front of me, and I’m not ready to give it up. From a nearby shelf, I take a play-flogger made of ribbons too fine to do more than tease her skin. I’ll prolong the agony and make her moan. Me, too, at the rate I’m going.

  “I have a surprise, and before I’m done, you’ll be begging for my cock.”

  “If you say so . . . sir.”

  “Sarcasm, pet?” I trail the ribbons around the curve of one breast, up her chest, and along her throat. I can see her swallow hard, and enjoy the sight of goose bumps rising over her smooth skin. The ends of her hair sway lightly along the curve of her waist when she trembles. “Should I make you pay for disrespecting me?”

  “Shit, no, sir. That feels so . . . good.” She gasps and reaches up to touch the ribbons.

  I withdraw the toy. “Since you can’t hold still, I’ll help you. Cross your wrists behind your back.”

  She doesn’t even hesitate. In fact, she looks relieved. That’s what I like about this girl, she’s always ready to play out a scene. She’s been my pet now for almost three whole weeks, nearly a record. I like her eagerness to try new scenarios.

  Her eagerness to submit.

  With a silken ribbon, I tie her wrists, then stand back to examine my handiwork. “You look fuckable. Do you like that?”

  “I’d like it more if you’d get to the fucking.”

  I swallow back a laugh. Can’t say she’s the only one who wants that. Leaning in, I graze my swollen cock along her cheek. The impact of her silken skin against my boiling erection makes my hot cock jump wildly.

  A gasp slips from parted lips, and her face tilts upward like a heat-seeking missile. I have to step back to avoid contact. To her credit, she never opens her eyes.

  Takes me a minute to manage my own reaction. My cock is aching at the way she’s just kneeling there so ripe and ready.

  “You’re born to be on your knees, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There—the moment rights itself again. I’m in control, and she’s awaiting my command. I stroke the silken flogger sensuously along her neck again, trail it down her back, putting on a show.

  She leans into the ribbons, clearly wants more pleasure than the ultra-light teasing. But I keep losing the edges of my control today. I don’t know why. I only know I want her to ache. I want to shock.

  Back to the shelf again. This time I pick up a pair of scissors. Instead of my cock against her check I run the cool flat metal over her skin, across her breasts and over her quivering belly. “Which do you like better, silk or metal?”

  “Your skin, sir.”

  That makes me chuckle. “Greedy bitch.”

  I slide behind her, slip a blade along her hip and cut her panties with a sharp snip. I peel the thong from between her thighs.

  I rest my hand on her hair, spread my fingers and push. “Forehead on the floor and spread those knees wide. I want to see your pussy.”

  She sinks to the floor in a liquid motion, raising her ass in the air, taunting me, teasing me. “Like what you see?”

  Before the words reach my ears, she knows she’s made a mistake. I can see it in the way she stiffens. I can hear it in the hard breath she sucks in.

  “Not much control today, hmm? I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Better. I whisk the ribbons over her firm ass cheeks, dangle the edges in her pussy. Her wet folds pucker hungrily, and I want to drop to my knees and shove deep inside her. I clamp on my control—usually more rock-solid than my dick, which is saying something.

  She lets out a growl of frustration that echoes through the room, and through me. But she keeps her mouth shut this time. Wisely.

  “You will wait. And every time you screw up, it makes it longer until you get screwed. You just lay there with your pussy hanging out for all to see. No complaints. I know you love it.”

  Then I sink back on my haunches and take my big dick in my hand. On goes protection. Another rule I never break.

  Her ass cheeks look like white half-moons poised in the air for my pleasure. Her lean thighs tremble, and I hear every breath she takes. Unable to resist, I press my palm against her crotch again, hard this time. Her wet flesh pulses aga
inst my hand like a racing heartbeat.

  I can’t help but get on with the game, positioning myself between her thighs, dragging my aching cock along all that dripping skin.

  I haven’t licked her. Haven’t primed her with my hands or mouth.

  But she is obviously wet and needy. And I am ready to get on with the show, fill up this aching hole inside me that only sex ever touches. I crave the heat and the smooth slide into oblivion, when all I can do is feel. I force myself to wait.

  I rub her clit with my finger. A yelp. My cock throbs so hard it might explode.

  My thumb sinks into her molten core. She arches full-bodied, backs into me to get more friction.

  I withdraw my hand. “You take what I give you. Only what I give you. Understand?”

  She moans.

  I pull her hair, twisting her head back and around. “What was that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Much better. I crouch over her and seal my mouth to hers, demanding she take my tongue. I slide my free hand between her legs and tug the tiny triangle of hair on her mons. She gasps into my mouth, so ready, and I tug her hair. She’s panting hard now, each burst of ragged breath against my mouth pushing me farther from my own control. I kiss every one of those greedy gasps, inhale her need with my own breaths.

  Now I’m settling my hard shaft along the crack of her ass, rocking back and forth for some pressure of my own.

  Her hips buck upward. She wants me inside.

  “May I come, sir?”

  “No.” She will wait for my permission or I won’t fuck her again. She knows my rule. I flick my fingers faster, pull on her clit, pushing her harder.

  Behind her back, her fingers claw at my dick. She arches her back, her pretty ass riding the length of my cock as if she can coax me to plunge inside against my will.

  She’s pushing me today. She’s riding me like she never wants to stop. And each long, thick stroke of her hot bottom against my shaft makes me so ready to give in and take her.

  I won’t. This isn’t about what she wants. For the twenty-seven years of my life, I’ve been in control, and I’m not about to be a slacker now. No way. I don’t think I even know how.

  The thoughts break through the haze of fucking and I bite her bottom lip hard enough to break the moment. Her yelp hits the quiet like a slap.

  I give her what she wants . . . I grab my aching dick and tease it against her wet pussy, sinking in just an inch. She’s so warm, so welcoming, so willing. “You’re going to get what you need, pet—”

  “An orgasm,” she pleads.

  “A good fucking first.”

  Finally, I’m right where I belong. I sink in to the hilt in one hard move, and enter her fully, fast and hard. She convulses around me and lets out a moan. She’s about to lose her battle, and I know it. I slide my fingers away from her clit. Yeah.” I grab her ass with both hands and thrust in and out of her heat slowly, giving her a chance to regroup. Giving me a chance, too. She’s wild for me, rocking her hips, bucking back to meet my every thrust, trying to take control.

  “Oh, God, I love the feel of your cock inside me. I love the way you do me.” She lets out a keening moan that rips right through my haze of sex. “I love you.”

  That brings me to a dead stop. Suddenly, I am like a goddamned redwood as she goes wild against me, that sweet ass ramming back like she’s on pistons.

  Love?

  What the fuck?

  Reality slams me like a fist to the jaw. I hadn’t seen this coming. How had I not seen this coming?

  I have no answer. Just a dick harder than a ramrod and a startling realization that I have miscalculated. But this problem I can easily fix. She’ll thank me eventually.

  I slam my cock in her pussy, so hard my balls make a slapping sound. If fucking was a hurricane, this would be a class five. Lightning zaps through me. Thunder roars in my ears.

  “Oh . . . don’t . . . stop.” She begs now.

  “Sir.” I pound the word into her.

  “Sir, please . . .” Her plea breaks on a such a soft, trusting . . . loving sob. How had I missed this?

  She’s too close. I feel her muscles clench. She’s trying to resist. But it’s over now. She’s going out in one giant orgasm. And I’ll give her the best fucking orgasm of her life to remember me by.

  Snaking an arm around her, I grab her tits. I knead each ripe globe. I pull at her nipples until she’s moaning deliriously. I bury my face in her sweet-smelling hair and punish her with each grinding drive of my hips.

  And then her muscles let go. She screams, a sound of such pleasure and frustration and sorrow. And me, the bastard that I am, burst inside her for the last time.

  Because we’re done. I know it. She knows it. She broke the rule. Her whole body melts under mine, and she collapses to the floor with a wracking sob. I lean over and kiss her gently on the forehead. “Goodbye, pet.”

  I taste the tears streaming down her cheeks, but I refuse to let her emotions sway me.

  Not when it’s my reputation at stake here, my sanity.

  I pull out, still hard as a rock. My abilities are a gift. My cock slaps her thigh as I lean back, a little slowly because I don’t want to appear unsteady, the way I feel.

  But how I feel doesn’t make a damned bit of difference right now. Now, it’s all about control.

  Mine.

  I get up with an ease that I don’t quite feel, and stretch languidly. Another show. I know I look good with my hard rod between my legs. I slap my hand toward a button on the wall, and the audience that had been muted explodes into furious applause. The members of the sex club understand what has just occurred. I stare at the wall of glass. I can’t see them, but they sure as hell see me. Forcing a smile, I give a nod, then gesture to her. “Their applause is for you, pretty girl,” I tell her with all the gentleness I can muster. “You definitely won’t lack for partners.”

  She lifts her head, meets my gaze with resentful eyes. “Damn right I won’t. You’re going to miss me.”

  “Roger that,” I agree. I won’t just miss her. I’ll be back to trying to satisfy this gaping hole in my gut, a hole that sex eases but never fills. Yes, sex is my attempt to soothe the raging beast inside me, my drug of choice. A beast from which I have no escape.

  1

  Ethan

  I SHOWER AT THE club and the hot water makes me sleepy. Knowing Ace, a friend and club owner won’t mind, I head to his office for a short nap before I drive home. His sofa is long, luxurious. And for once when I shut my eyes, I fall immediately into my nightmare.

  Flames fill my vision. Hellish sparks. Terrifying smoke. Blasting heat. The scent of burning flesh. Brutal pain.

  “Shit.”

  I wake up, the curse ringing in my ears, and Ace shaking my shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fucking peachy.” In truth, I’m trembling. It always takes a few minutes for my racing heart to slow. For me to return to my life, my memories, my own private hell.

  It’s closing time, too late to chase away the demons with another pet, another round of fucking.

  Ace pours his private label scotch into a fancy glass.

  Before he pours the second glass, I shake my head, trying to clear the festering shit from my head. “No thanks. I’m going to hit the road.”

  “You don’t look so hot.”

  “Quit busting my balls.”

  “You don’t sleep much, do you?” Ace asks. The guy might be a party animal, but he’s damn perceptive.

  I don’t feel like talking. No point to it. I can’t change the past. But I’m pissed that Ace has seen part of my beast. I say goodbye, head out of the club. Throw off the last dregs of the nightmare.

  But the beast will return. It always does whenever I shut my eyes.

  I make this drive home from the club almost every morning. At five a.m. there’s not much traffic. A perfect time to open up my Range Rover and feed my need for speed.

  The tires roll under me like a woman j
ust short of climax. I shift into gear, feel the power, and try to drown out my thoughts with the pounding sound of metal.

  But tuning out isn’t easy for me.

  Damn. I don’t like ending things. It’s a pain in the ass more than anything. I love women. I do. I love everything about them. Their scent, the softness of their skin, the way I make them lose control. Or not.

  My skill at reading them keeps me on my game. Their bodies are like road maps I read like a veteran tracker. Making the sex last longer, watching my babes struggle for control, the power over their pleasure is like a drug. And one I crave, even more than pushing my Ducati to max speed on the straightaways.

  I’ve cum, now I’m high on fast driving. Then I’ll top off the night with a few cold ones. It might all kill me one day, but fuck one day. Right now, I’m a step ahead of the beast, and that’s what I care about. That, and my next fix.

  I’m always on the lookout for my next fix.

  Won’t take long. I’m lucky that way. Women at the club like me. A lot.

  The empty road stretches endlessly before me. I have the windows and sunroof open. The wind blows my hair and the scent of Miami’s lingering heat soothes me like a woman’s sigh of satisfaction. I have everything a dude could want—willing women, fast cars, a few cold ones on the seat beside me.

  If I only keep a step ahead . . .

  The full moon peeks out beneath a cloud. From up ahead, car lights shine into my eyes. I ease my speed instinctively, then see something in the road . . . A fat-ass turtle crosses the pavement into my lane, its round dome unmistakable. Only in fucking Florida . . .

  I steer into the opposite lane in a gentle S-curve, my tires hugging the road. Turtle saved, back in my lane, I steady the unopened six pack on the seat beside me.

  “Christ almighty,” I swear over the sound of pulsing metal.

  A Jeep veers around the turtle, too, into and out of my lane, skids, does a 360 as I pass by. I see the dumbass slow to a crawl and plow into a ditch.

  “Shit.” I share the highway with a fucking idiot. The only other fucking idiot on the road.