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She turned her head. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but soon she could see that they were alone. Unless the man behind the voice on the intercom was still observing them.
“Put your fucking clothes on, Madison!”
She attempted to roll onto her side, but she didn’t have enough energy to move, much less dress. And why was he yelling at her?
“What’s going on? Are the cops busting the club or what?” Right before they’d arrived, he had warned her that a raid might happen.
“I can’t believe you let them do that to you.”
“Huh?” She lifted her head with considerable effort. “Let them do what?”
Her mind was as numb as her body was. She couldn’t feel anything. Except her ass. God, she was sore back there. Someone had done a number on her. Not taken her the way she liked it. Not the way Adam did it. She doubted if she’d ever be able to sit on her butt again.
“Anything they wanted,” he said.
“Why are you so upset?” she said, her voice slurring as if she were drunk.
“I don’t know, Madison. Maybe because I just watched my girlfriend get gangbanged and she loved every minute of it.”
“You’re the one who brought me here,” she said, finding a reserve store of energy as her anger sparked to life. “You’re the one who always tells me I need to loosen up. Experience life. Live a little.”
“You are unquestionably loose, and I think you’ve done quite enough living for one night,” he said. “We’re leaving now. Get dressed.”
“I would love to,” she yelled, “but I can’t move my arms and legs!”
His scowl was replaced with a look of concern. “Did one of them hurt you?”
She shook her head as much as she was able, knowing that he didn’t want to hear her whine about how raw her ass felt. “Just exhaustion. I’ll recover.”
“I’m sorry I brought you here,” he said, the temporary look of concern already gone, replaced by a scowl. He scraped the clothing from her back and slipped her panties over one of her trembling feet. She was uncomfortably wet between her legs, but she was suddenly too ashamed to draw attention to her discomfort.
Her body would recover, but she wondered if her relationship with Adam would. Something had changed between them. She could feel it in the brusque way he shoved her into her clothes. The tenderness he usually showed her was lacking. His gaze was hard. And cold. He refused to look at her, to see her. He was back to shutting her out, the way he had when they’d first met. She couldn’t stand it.
She lifted a weary arm to touch his face, but he jerked away, stumbling from the platform in his haste to find the exit. To escape her touch. Escape from her.
“I’ll wait outside,” he said and before she could tell him not to bother, he was gone.
Chapter Nine
Adam took a deep breath and slammed his fist into a brick wall. He needed to get his shit together before Madison came out of the club, because he was seconds from losing everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish and he knew it.
Would he ever be able to look at her again without remembering the hands of other men on her body? Would he ever scrub away the feel of her pussy tightening around his cock as two other men brought her to orgasm? Would he ever hear those sexy sounds she made without recalling that she made them even louder when some stranger had his dick up her ass?
There was only one thing that ever made him forget how to feel. Forget how to care. Forget the pain of living and the fear of dying. One thing made it all go away.
But he didn’t do that shit anymore. He knew if he slipped up—if he joined the guys snorting lines of coke off some woman’s bare ass on the bar or shot up heroin in the bathroom—it wouldn’t fix anything. Not really. For a few hours it might seem that his cares were gone and that bringing Madison to the club hadn’t been a huge mistake, but he knew the drugs’ effects would wear off and he’d need more of them to make those cares go away again. And then he’d need more and still more just to hold on to the illusion of that pain being chased away. And then he’d be back where he started, and he hated that place. Hated it even more than feeling this broken inside.
So he had to get his shit together and fast. For her sake. But mostly for his own.
He took a moment to count his blessings. Sometimes he felt as if he didn’t have many, but if he reflected on the positive things in his life, it made dealing with the negative a lot easier. He had his music and his bandmates who’d stuck with him through all the shit he’d put them through, and he had his drawing. And . . . and he had Madison.
Madison. What the fuck was wrong with him? He couldn’t ruin one of the few good things going for him in a fit of jealous rage. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have said those things to her? How could he have left her there in the club, alone? He’d lost it because he hadn’t been able to handle her behaving the way he’d expected her to behave. The way he wanted her to behave. Or so he’d thought. Hell, he’d been planning and fantasizing about this scenario all week, prepping her for it for two days. Shit, he couldn’t take it out on her, because his expectations and the reality had been exactly what he thought he’d wanted. But his reaction to her brazenness was completely at odds with what he’d expected. If he’d been watching some other woman get that thoroughly fucked, he’d have thought it was the sexiest sight he’d ever seen. But it hadn’t been some other woman, it had been his woman. Why hadn’t he realized he wouldn’t be able to stand another man’s hands on her until it was too late? Maybe because he had expected her to draw a line. But she hadn’t. She’d crossed it without a shred of hesitation.
Shit.
And who did he have to blame for that? Himself.
It was no wonder that everyone thought he was such a fuck-up. He kept proving them right over and over again, living up to their poor expectations of him. Everyone’s except Madison’s. She believed in him. She trusted him, trusted him to keep her safe. And he’d failed her. There was no telling what those men could have done to her when he’d fled.
He went back inside and found her where he’d left her. She was lying on her back staring up at the ceiling, her expression completely blank. It was as if she were in some sort of trance.
He sat beside her on the firm mattress—forcing himself not to think about everything that had happened in this very room not even half an hour ago—and touched her shoulder.
She didn’t look at him, but she spoke. “What’s wrong with me? How could I have done that? How could I have liked it?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said. “You were supposed to like it. The scenario was designed specifically to give you pleasure.”
“Then why do you hate me?” She closed her eyes, and her body began to tremble uncontrollably.
“I don’t hate you,” he said. “I love you, and that’s why I reacted the way I did. Why I had to leave. I’ve done this sort of thing with dozens of other women. Not the chess board, but other games.”
“Lovely to hear that,” she said dully.
“And I enjoyed every minute of it,” he made himself continue. “But with you—”
“You realized what an insatiable tramp you have for a girlfriend.”
“That isn’t even close to the truth,” he said. “I couldn’t stand them touching you. Couldn’t stand knowing you could enjoy sex with someone besides me. Because . . .”
She opened her eyes and shifted her gaze to his. “Because?”
He took a deep breath. “Because you’re mine.” He stared at her, challenging her to deny his claim. Unquestionably relieved when she didn’t.
“I am yours, Adam,” she said. “When they were touching me and—and doing stuff to me, I wasn’t really myself. I was playing the role of the queen.”
“I think I knew that,” he said, “but it didn’t offer me any peace of mind. It made me sick to watch what they were doing. And even sicker that I didn’t stop them.”
He hadn’t stopped them bec
ause she’d seemed to be enjoying it so much, and her mindless enjoyment that didn’t require his participation had pissed him off. Let them fuck her, he’d thought when he’d lost his erection and had to leave the game. I don’t care. He’d behaved like a petulant toddler and had left her alone with them. With all of them. They could have really hurt her. He wasn’t even sure what did happen because he didn’t watch, couldn’t, though Tony—who’d played the announcer—had assured him that no one had broken his one rule. No one besides him had claimed her pussy. Taken every other inch of her, maybe, but not that. Now he knew what a ridiculous stipulation that had been. Her pussy wasn’t the only part of her that was sacred to him. All of her was. And he’d brought her here, knowing what was going to happen. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Does this mean we’re over?” she asked.
He wondered why she thought she should take any of the blame for this. He forced a smile, hoping that by making light of the situation, that look of misery would be wiped from her beautiful face.
“No, it doesn’t mean we’re over. It means we aren’t ever participating in another sex club orgy. I don’t care how desperate you get for cock.”
“But we can participate in a regular orgy, right?” He could hear the laughter in her tone, or he might have gotten upset. “I mean, you know how desperate I get for cock. I need it twenty-four hours a day.”
“I’ll do my best to satisfy your desperation,” he said, stroking her cheek.
