Home > Spark (The Hellfire Quartet Book 1)(8)

Spark (The Hellfire Quartet Book 1)(8)
Author: Cynthia Dane

Amelia could barely breathe. What am I doing here? No matter what she did, her thoughts came back to that.

Five minutes later, the door handle turned.

Amelia sat up straight, legs kicked to the side and her hands furiously straightening out her negligee before her random assignment of the night saw her. She was looking down when the door opened – making sure that her breasts were even and not literally about to pop out of her lace. I don’t know what I want more. Hard, fast, and over with… or slow, sensual, and mindful. She kinda wanted the first one. The less she had to think tonight, the better.

She looked up when a figured occupied the doorway. The music from the club filtered down the hall and through the hole in the wall.

At first, Amelia didn’t know who she was looking at. This person was much shorter than she anticipated, not that she had a problem with that. I’m a small gal myself. Sometimes, a shorter partner is better. One of the reasons she had fallen for her ex-husband’s charm so quickly was because he was a “humble” 5’7 and often remarked that they “fit together like simple jigsaw puzzle pieces.” She had taller lovers before, both male and female. The tall men were the laziest, insisting that it was “too hard” to make love the traditional way and asking Amelia to do most of the work. The tall women commented on her size way too much, to the point that Amelia was self-conscious about her five-foot stature for the first time in her life. Why would I want to be with someone who makes me feel like a physical child?

Then, she wondered if this short, masculine person in her doorway was actually Roger. It didn’t make sense, of course, but the memories were still too raw for her to consider anything else. That’s why her heart raced. Not because she recognized her partner of the evening and she subsequently fell in love.

Who knows what I will say a few years from now.

“H… hello.” Amelia greeted the shadowy figure before getting a good look at them. “Are you looking for Room 307?”

Her key lifted into the light. Not too long after, a familiar sight followed. It’s… that lady from earlier. Amelia was mildly shocked. She didn’t think she would be paired with a woman. Was it a pleasant surprise? I’m not complaining… Did this make her feel any better, though? Was getting back on the horse with a woman the best way to move on from her ex-husband? It would be a nice change of pace. But a man might have helped me feel like it was really over between Roger and me. There went her heart, racing again.

The door closed. Only then did Amelia see the drink in the woman’s hand. “A lemon drop?” It looked delicious. Then again, Kyle at the downstairs bar made the best vodka cocktails. Amelia always loved seeing his face whenever she entered the club. He didn’t only offer familiarity in a place that may have already forgotten about Roger on her arm. He was a promise of delicious drinks to take her mind off things. “You have good taste.”

The glass came closer to her face. So did the woman’s perfume. No, cologne. Amelia would recognize it anywhere. One of Roger’s friends had worn the same kind, and whenever they went on couple’s dates to restaurants, each other’s homes, or this very club, Amelia always complimented him on it. He joked that I liked it more than his own wife. She often wondered why she and Roger never swung with them. Now, she realized that Roger thought they were having an affair. All because of a comment about a man’s cologne.

It smelled exactly the same when she closed her eyes now. Yet when she opened them, she didn’t see someone who reminded her of a man.

The blonde in this woman’s hair was faker than the diamonds Roger had given his wife for their last anniversary, but Amelia couldn’t fault her for that. I love anyone who plays around with their look. She loved women who went against the norm, too. Not that you would guess from my track record. Track. Record. Yeah, that was a word some had lobbed at her.

“I thought you might like something to drink.” The lemon drop was close enough for Amelia to smell. She leaned forward, fingers curling around the stem. Somehow, she managed to avoid touching this other woman’s soft digits. “Hope you don’t mind.”

A drink from a stranger should have been a red flag, but Amelia was nothing but cautious smiles as she accepted the cocktail and pulled the lemon garnish off the edge. “Thank you. How did you know I like lemon drops?”

“Lucky guess, I suppose.”

Amelia anticipated being joined on the bed. Instead, the woman with daring white trousers and a slick black jacket sat in the only chair in the room. She was still close enough to reach out and touch. Amelia sipped her drink. Yup. Kyle made this. Did this woman know that she was off to meet Amelia and asked for advice? Because this cocktail was much too specific. Wouldn’t most people bring up a beer? A glass of wine? Something much more generic than a lemon drop? Amelia knew from experience that few loved lemons as much as she did.

“What’s your name?” The anticipation was killing Amelia. “My name is Amelia.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” And this woman had a beautiful voice. Smooth, yet flirty. She wasn’t naturally loud, nor did she whisper so softly that Amelia struggled to hear her speak for herself. “My name is Bree. Like Breeze, without the Z.”

“You don’t hear that name very often,” Amelia said. “Do you often come to Hellfire?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…” Amelia cleared her throat. The drink burned a little. How much alcohol was in this? Kyle didn’t usually get so generous, even with hefty tips thrown in his direction. Amelia always assumed it was strict house rules and his job on the line. Perhaps he was simply playing favorites, and Bree was a favorite. “I used to. This is my first time back in a while.”

“You decided to do a key party?”

For some reason, that pained Amelia’s heart. “Call it jumping back into familiarity.” She had done them before meeting Roger. Had it really been over five, six years ago, though? I was a lot younger. She was still young, but there was a sizable difference between thirty and fresh out of college. I was supposed to have a fairy-tale romance. Right out of a novel like Fifty Shades. Only Amelia wasn’t as naïve and virginal as Ms. Anastasia Steele when she met Roger. Nor had he been looking for his romance novel-worthy heroine. He was handsome. Smart. Rich. He had taken young Amelia on a whirlwind adventure where he gave her everything she wanted. Love. Passion. Kink.

She had never been with a Domme before. Her occasional encounters with women got as kinky as some handcuffs and blindfolds, but those were not for her benefit. Come to think of it, how many times with women had been for her? She wasn’t like Bree, with her androgynous clothes and hair. While nothing on Bree’s person screamed she was a Domme, Amelia could still sense a dominant power emanating from her aura. Bree was the type to effortlessly tie a knot around a girl’s wrists and whisper naughty things into her ear. She must know what kind of woman I am… Amelia wasn’t subtle. Why would she be? She had long learned to signal her proclivities to the club. Sexy negligee. Flirty makeup. A mask and bunny ears. They sent a powerful message. They told every dominant personality in the room that she was theirs for the taking – if they were worthy enough.

“I like your look,” Bree said, legs crossed and hands politely in her lap. “The ears are a nice touch. Are you a role-player?

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