Read Online She's All Tied Up: Club 3, Book 2 by Cathryn Cade - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cathryn Cade
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of the family and he had two tall, plump sisters who were attractive and happily married. And now Tiffany was joining in the fray, on her mother’s side. How dare she?
The clouds moved over the sun, casting purple shadows over the boulevard. The clouds were nearly black with rain. Light flickered within them, and the air blowing in her open car window was oppressive with humidity.
It was going to storm, all right, and it would be a doozy. Part of her wanted to stand on the highest hilltop around while the rain pelted and the wind blew, throw her head back and scream into the belly of the storm. But since she did not want to get struck by lightning, this was probably not a good idea.
However, she needed…something.
First things first. She pulled over into a half-empty store parking lot, whipped out her phone, opened her e-mail, scrolled to a saved message, checked the address, took a deep breath and hit Send.
There. She’d finally done it. She’d applied to Club 3 for membership. And, irony of ironies, her own mother had driven her to join a sex club now, instead of later.
She’d meant to send the e-mail earlier, as she’d promised Daisy, but she kept hesitating with her mouse on the Send icon. Chickening out, more like it. Had Jake really meant that he wanted her to come to the club? Did he really want her to be with him? Attacked by uncertainty, she’d saved the form in the Drafts folder of her e-mail.
Well, now it was done. And she was through with trying to be the “good girl”. The heck with that, and the heck with her mother. She, Carlie Milton, was going to break free and have some wild, crazy, outrageous fun.
She slowed at the turn to her apartment, then put her foot down on the gas pedal and sped on down the boulevard. A salad was not enough dinner. She was hungry. No, she was ravenous. Black Magic Donuts might be closed, but Zellaby’s was open.
Jake had just finished showing a flustered, fifty-ish woman how to use the leg press. He watched as she executed five presses, making sure she kept the angle of her knee between one-eighty and ninety degrees. Then he nodded.
“Okay, Barbara, you got it. Do the other leg exactly the same way. For your second week here, you’re lookin’ like a real pro. But any questions, you come find me or Troy, okay?”
She nodded back, gave him a shy smile, her already red face going another shade darker.
Jake gave her a little salute and turned away.
Outside, he could see the shadows gathering, a gloomy cast to the early evening. Seven fifteen. Damn, he was ready to get out of here. He usually left at five or five thirty, but his newest hire, Asha, had a sick baby, couldn’t take him to daycare, so she was home instead of here for the evening shift, and Jake was trapped.
Although maybe rescue was at hand. Trace was just walking in, still clad in a stylish dress shirt and slacks, a silk tie hanging loose around his neck. He carried a designer gym bag in one hand. He stopped by the corner of the hallway to the locker rooms, giving Jake a chin jerk, his eyes alight with some secret that he was clearly dying to share.
“What?” Jake asked with the caution of long, close acquaintance. Trace had a wicked sense of humor and loved to mess with people, even his closest friends.
Trace leaned forward, speaking very quietly. “Guess whose membership papers just came through online for the club?”
Jake’s skin rippled as if someone had brushed soft fingers over it. There was only one person about whom he would care enough for Trace to make a special announcement—Carlie. “Yeah?”
Trace nodded. “Yeah. She wants in.”
“Hot damn.” Jake’s weariness fell away, anticipation heating his gut. Then his stomach growled, and he put a hand on his middle, rubbing it. “Thanks for the good news.”
Trace grinned. “Just promise me I get a sight of her when she’s strapped to the wall, naked. That is a lot of woman, all of it fine .”
Jake ignored the
The clouds moved over the sun, casting purple shadows over the boulevard. The clouds were nearly black with rain. Light flickered within them, and the air blowing in her open car window was oppressive with humidity.
It was going to storm, all right, and it would be a doozy. Part of her wanted to stand on the highest hilltop around while the rain pelted and the wind blew, throw her head back and scream into the belly of the storm. But since she did not want to get struck by lightning, this was probably not a good idea.
However, she needed…something.
First things first. She pulled over into a half-empty store parking lot, whipped out her phone, opened her e-mail, scrolled to a saved message, checked the address, took a deep breath and hit Send.
There. She’d finally done it. She’d applied to Club 3 for membership. And, irony of ironies, her own mother had driven her to join a sex club now, instead of later.
She’d meant to send the e-mail earlier, as she’d promised Daisy, but she kept hesitating with her mouse on the Send icon. Chickening out, more like it. Had Jake really meant that he wanted her to come to the club? Did he really want her to be with him? Attacked by uncertainty, she’d saved the form in the Drafts folder of her e-mail.
Well, now it was done. And she was through with trying to be the “good girl”. The heck with that, and the heck with her mother. She, Carlie Milton, was going to break free and have some wild, crazy, outrageous fun.
She slowed at the turn to her apartment, then put her foot down on the gas pedal and sped on down the boulevard. A salad was not enough dinner. She was hungry. No, she was ravenous. Black Magic Donuts might be closed, but Zellaby’s was open.
Jake had just finished showing a flustered, fifty-ish woman how to use the leg press. He watched as she executed five presses, making sure she kept the angle of her knee between one-eighty and ninety degrees. Then he nodded.
“Okay, Barbara, you got it. Do the other leg exactly the same way. For your second week here, you’re lookin’ like a real pro. But any questions, you come find me or Troy, okay?”
She nodded back, gave him a shy smile, her already red face going another shade darker.
Jake gave her a little salute and turned away.
Outside, he could see the shadows gathering, a gloomy cast to the early evening. Seven fifteen. Damn, he was ready to get out of here. He usually left at five or five thirty, but his newest hire, Asha, had a sick baby, couldn’t take him to daycare, so she was home instead of here for the evening shift, and Jake was trapped.
Although maybe rescue was at hand. Trace was just walking in, still clad in a stylish dress shirt and slacks, a silk tie hanging loose around his neck. He carried a designer gym bag in one hand. He stopped by the corner of the hallway to the locker rooms, giving Jake a chin jerk, his eyes alight with some secret that he was clearly dying to share.
“What?” Jake asked with the caution of long, close acquaintance. Trace had a wicked sense of humor and loved to mess with people, even his closest friends.
Trace leaned forward, speaking very quietly. “Guess whose membership papers just came through online for the club?”
Jake’s skin rippled as if someone had brushed soft fingers over it. There was only one person about whom he would care enough for Trace to make a special announcement—Carlie. “Yeah?”
Trace nodded. “Yeah. She wants in.”
“Hot damn.” Jake’s weariness fell away, anticipation heating his gut. Then his stomach growled, and he put a hand on his middle, rubbing it. “Thanks for the good news.”
Trace grinned. “Just promise me I get a sight of her when she’s strapped to the wall, naked. That is a lot of woman, all of it fine .”
Jake ignored the
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