Claimed: The Decadence Club Read online

  Claimed

  The Decadence Club Series

  By Alyssa Clark

  Published by Scarlet Lantern Publishing

  A Note From the Author:

  Claimed is a full length, bad boy BDSM romance novel. Included in this edition, for a limited time, is awesome FREE bonus content!

  I hope you enjoy Claimed as well as the bonus content.

  Love, Alyssa Clark

  Love Hot, Steamy Romance?

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  Copyright © 2018 by Alyssa Clark & Scarlet Lantern Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language.

  All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Restraint

  Free Preview - The Decadence Club Book 3

  Prologue

  I found an ad in the paper and decided to look into it. I was tired of working in the kitchen that my parole officer had recommended. Washing dishes wasn’t something I wanted to do in the long run, and I made it clear to Suzanne that I wouldn’t be there long before I found my own thing. There was a list of careers that I had to avoid suggested by my Anger Management therapist. Right now, washing dishes was just something that wasn’t going to fit the bill for me.

  Washing dishes just made shit worse.

  While bouncer wasn’t on the list of careers to avoid, I was sure if the therapist knew I was going to inquire about it, he’d quickly add it to the list. I was supposed to be avoiding confrontation. I was supposed to find a center so I could walk away from any aggression I might feel.

  It was all bullshit.

  I got charged with assault because some asshole thought it would be okay to put his hands on his woman out on the street. I ain’t no fucking bystander, being a bouncer gave me a gut reaction that I didn't mind following. I stepped in and broke his arm, manhandling him like he manhandled his girl.

  The only problem was the battered girl didn’t speak up in my defense, and her asshole had a better lawyer. I’m broke now, and I was broke then, so I was fucked over. I got a year because I admitted I wouldn’t be able to pay a fine. A year went to six months for good behavior, and the parole board decided that I needed Anger Management.

  It was okay, I did the crime I could do the time. But I couldn’t handle the monotony of washing dishes. It made me feel like more of a loser than I was. So, that’s where I came across this ad. There weren’t many details, just a club needing positions filled and to apply in person at an address.

  It took me forty-five minutes to get there. It was in the warehouse district, and the industrial look of the building gave me the feeling that this was probably going to be a short-term deal.

  Just a pop-up club. Great.

  It didn’t keep me from going to the metal door and knocking. To my surprise, a woman answered the door. She was older, her blonde hair was pulled back from her face, and she looked regal. She was not someone I expected to answer the door.

  “May I help you?” Even her voice was too damn upper class for me.

  “Saw the ad in the paper.” I motioned to my resume that Suzanne insisted that I have. “I’m here to apply.”

  Her expression before had been neutral, something I couldn’t read and hadn’t really considered. Now, she looked at me hard, eyeing me up and down like there was something she could tell from the faded slacks and wrinkled button down I wore. I looked like shit. But I wasn’t about to explain my situation to some old broad that answered the door.

  “Come in.” She stepped back and motioned me in. “You will need to speak to Angela. Let me take you to the office.”

  I stepped in, and she closed the door behind me, going as far to lock it. I looked back to assess the door, not comprehending why she would bother. I could probably take it down with enough force. “This way.” She didn’t seem to take into account why I was glaring at the door. Or she didn’t care.

  It was clear that the place was still under construction. Drywall was already hung, and I could see that they had divided the place up into sections that I couldn’t understand. It didn’t look like I would expect a club too. Maybe it wasn’t just a pop-up.

  She led me through a large main room to a door that was framed out but not yet hung. From here I could see a room with bare concrete floors and a plastic table that was likely acting as a desk.

  Another woman, I assumed this Angela, was seated in a folding chair. She managed to make it look like she wasn’t in a construction zone. I expected that once they had the place finished it would probably look classy. If I got hired, I was probably going to need a fucking suit.

  She stood and offered me a welcoming smile and her hand. “I’m Angela Winters. I assume you are here because of the ad we placed?”

  I took her hand, she looked delicate and while I wanted to make an impression that didn’t involve my state of dress I felt like I had to be careful. I gave her hand a firm shake, and I was relieved when she didn’t look rattled. “Easton Davis.” I offered up my resume, placing it on the table top. “I’m here to offer myself up as a bouncer.”

  “Is that all?” the woman that led the way in here spoke with a little disappointment in her voice.

  “Linda,” Angel’s voice sounded scolding. She waved a hand behind me, gesturing to another folding chair. “Don’t mind my friend. So,” she picked my resume, “do you have experience as a bouncer?” She didn’t even look at it.

  “Two years,” I admitted, watching her for any kind of tells. Interviews were something everyone failed at on some level. I didn’t let her lack of attention to the papers in her hand get to me.

  “Can I ask why you’re no longer with either establishment?” she asked as she finally seemed to give the documents a look over. The woman was attractive, I wouldn’t be able to deny if I tried. But there was something with the way that she spoke that irritated me. I think it might have been the commanding tone.

  I tried not to roll my eyes. “Insight was a temporary club. I worked there for six months until they closed and moved locations. I didn’t follow because it was inconveniently located and they didn’t want to offer me more money for the bigger commute.” I leaned back into the metal folding chair. “Électrique for a year and a half.”

  She grimaced at the name, and I could only roll my shoulder, the club was just like it sounded. But it was a paycheck. “Why did you leave Club Électrique?” She didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm. I got the feeling this woman was used to getting what she wanted.

  Here was where I had to test whether or not she would object to hiring a convicted felon. “I was fired due to the fact that I was arrested,” I said simply, keeping my expression neutral.

  I watched her blue eyes widen, seemed to stand out starkly on her heart-shaped face. She went bac
k to the papers I had given her, actually reading it now. Her brows drew together. “Simple assault? Doesn’t specify anything.”

  “You would have to do a background check to get the specifics,” I informed her.

  Her lips pursed before she spoke. “Was it domestic?”

  I was tempted to tell her to find out herself, but if I did the likelihood of me getting hired was slim. “No,” I said evenly. “I tried to help someone that didn’t need help.” That was the way I saw it anyhow. That’s the only way I could comprehend the reason why any woman would let someone sling them around. “My parole officer’s number is on there, she can give you the full rundown on it.”

  The two women looked at one another, their expressions were hard to read. “Linda,” Angela said after a beat. “Can you give us a minute?” There wasn’t any argument, the other woman walked out without complaint. It was enough to unnerve me. Angela put my resume down on the table. “What would your parole officer say about you taking this job?”

  “Bouncer isn’t something that’s on their list of unapproved jobs,” I said, though I was well aware of the fact that Suzanne would probably object. But as far as I was concerned, she could shove it.

  “Let’s take a walk.” She stood and came around her ‘desk’. “Before we consider pushing the limits of what you are allowed to do, let me tell you about our club. That way you can still decide whether or not you still want to apply.”

  I stood and followed her at a length, I hadn’t taken an interest in women since I had gotten paroled, but I couldn’t ignore the sway of her hips. She had an ass on her, and while I would look at my content, I decided that I wouldn’t make a move.

  “Decadence is not your average club,” she spoke as she led me down a hallway. “While I can’t say there won’t be dancing, it is not a dance club.” She stopped at a door and opened it, motioning me in.

  It was a small room, and a mirror took up the majority of one wall. The floor was unfinished concrete like much of the rest of the club. The walls were patched drywall. This room didn't tell me anything. “What kind of club is it?” I didn’t hide my disinterest.

  “I cater in desires.” She turned to me. “I work with people’s fetishes. This club will cater to that.”

  I blinked, surprised suddenly. “A sex club?” I didn’t expect to run into one that was run by women. I didn’t know how to think to mask my thoughts on just how unlikely I thought it would be for something like this was.

  She snorted, not at all trying to carry on the air of a high-class lady. “Fetish club,” she corrected me, “would be more accurate. There is a very good chance that sex will occur. You’re very likely to see men and women in positions of discomfort. You will hear degrees of begging. What I want from you is for you to be able to differentiate what is real and what isn’t.”

  My eyes narrowed at her because I wasn’t understanding. “If someone is saying, ‘No stop.’ Then it needs to fucking stop.”

  She smiled, the bitch didn’t get offended by my words. She fucking smiled at me, her arms folded across her chest and she leveled a look at me before she spoke, “This is about context, Mr. Davis. When you push someone’s limits, they’re going to tell you to stop. The reason we have safe words is to push those limits, and when no more can be taken, the safe word is used.”

  Shit didn’t clear anything up. “You’re going to have to explain it better because I hear stop. I’m going to make shit stop,” I growled at her. I didn’t like the fact that she was suggesting that someone could keep going despite ‘stop’ being used.

  Angela sighed and didn’t resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Think of it like this,” she started as she eyed me, “you’re with a woman. You’re engaging in intercourse, and the act is so intense that you are caught up in the moment. Your lover is crying out, ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop.’ Eventually, the words can bleed together, and you might think she’s demanding you to stop instead of to keep going. To prevent disappointment, it's better to use a safe word.”

  It made sense, I couldn’t argue with it. I wasn’t gonna tell her it's been more than a year since I last had a woman to have ‘intercourse’ with. That wasn’t something she needed to know. “How am I supposed to know what their safe words are?”

  “I think the best route for this was to have a general safe word for everyone to use,” she looked thoughtful as she spoke. “Do you think that would make it easier?”

  I shrugged my shoulders and decided to tell her like it is, “To be honest, you wouldn’t know until some dumbass tested someone’s ‘limits’ a little too far.” I tilted my head as I eyed her right back, raising an eyebrow. “Question is what do you do when someone does that?”

  Her lips twitched, and it looked like she didn’t know. I bet she hadn’t even thought about it. For all her talk, I was betting she didn’t know a damn thing about what she was talking about. “There is a significant fee to join this club, I’ve already got people waiting for my doors to open. If someone breaks the rules, depending on the severity of it, they would be removed from the club without refund.”

  “And what about rape?” I pressed because I could see that happening. I could see how shit would get out of control of this little woman’s hands in a heartbeat.

  She didn’t falter at all at my question if anything her smile turned sickeningly sweet. It was enough to strike a nerve with me, making me think that maybe I was wrong. “If someone is dumb enough to go that far,” her voice was low and full of venom, “then the last thing they have to worry about is me. Because I have no qualms at cooperating with the police.”

  It was enough to make me reconsider my original view of her. I didn’t really have anything to say to her now. It was irritating that she had an answer to all of my doubts. I didn’t know if I had just cause to be angry, but I glared at her anyway.

  “Does that answer all of your concerns?” she asked, now she was just baiting me. “Is there anything else that you would like to question? Perhaps the cleanliness?”

  Her mocking irked me more, all I could do was shrug. It was my fault. I thought I was facing a woman that had no idea what she was doing and here she was proving me wrong. She knew it, too.

  “Now,” that smile of her was still dancing on her lips as she spoke, “the real question here is, knowing now what this club is… Do you still want to apply to be the bouncer?”

  “And is all you want to be a bouncer?” asked the older woman from before, Linda I think Angela said her name was. “Because you could be so much more.” I grimaced at the suggestive tone she used, and I ignored the appreciative looks she was giving me.

  I managed to hide my discomfort.

  “He’s not into the lifestyle,” Angela spoke up for me. “Besides, if he went to jail helping another person I think I would rather use him as a bouncer. If he gets curious about other things, it can go from there. That is,” she paused for a beat, “if he still wants the job.”

  She didn’t form it into a question, it was a statement. I had to provide some sort of feedback on it. I wasn’t the type of guy that wanted to bounce for a living, it wasn’t something that I got my rocks off doing. Right now, this was just a means to an end. It was a step up until I could find something better.

  I had no fucking clue what I wanted to do with myself, but I knew with my height and the width of my shoulders I could easily bounce a prick out of any club. This one, this club, was going to be different. It was going to be difficult. Did I really want to do it? Did I want the headache of working with these two bitches?

  It was better than washing dishes, that was the only answer I could come up with. I looked to Angela, not bothering to acknowledge the older woman. “I’m in, I’m gonna assume you’re going to do the background check and hit up my parole officer. If you still send me a green light give me a call and tell me when to be here.” I was being naive when I said that. I knew somewhere down the road I’d probably regret this.

  But, for now, all I could do was take the
pretty lady’s hand when she offered it to me and shake it without squeezing too hard. “I look forward to working with you, Mr. Davis.” she gave me another one of those smiles that made me want to grit my teeth.

  I fucking hoped she knew enough about what she was doing that I’d get a decent payout from this shit.

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