Submit to Me (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 7) Read online

  Granted there was no place in the world, save one, that had ever come close to feeling like home. And he'd been too hungry for fame to do anything but run from it. He'd been running his whole life, ever since the day he'd lit out of his parents' alcoholic and drug-riddled trailer in Nevada and headed to Hollywood seeking his fortune. He'd found it—and a whole lot more that he hadn't bargained for.

  It irked Hunter slightly that the data breach had inadvertently forced him into making a change, albeit one he'd needed for some time. It wasn't like he was home much, anyhow. Over the last ten years, he'd been on location filming ninety percent of the time, in places like Canada, Arizona, Georgia, Louisiana, Morocco, Australia, Hawaii, the Virgin Islands, Ireland, and yes, even Scotland, and more.

  Although he had strictly avoided the west coast of Scotland on purpose over the last ten years, and all because of one fiery redhead.

  He knocked on Declan's oak office door. Before he gripped the silver handle, the door swung inward. Jared was wearing an aggravated expression at the interruption. Granted, it might have something to do with the state of his rather tight tuxedo pants. Hunter felt his own balls curl up at the sight.

  "Jared. How's it hanging?" Hunter entered the office.

  "You're late." Jared cast him a baleful glare. He was all duded up in tails. Tails? Heaven help him.

  "Yes, Mom." Hunter strode inside what he'd once described to Declan as the ultimate man cave, with its dark wood shelving, leather furniture, and plush carpeting. The only things that were missing were a pool table, a big screen television, and a fridge brimming with frosty beer.

  After a quick perusal of the office, Hunter noted that Jared wasn't the only one all decked out. Jesse and Tobias stood in tuxedos as well, as the tailor and his assistant checked to make sure they fit each man.

  Declan stood nonchalantly in the center of the chaos, looking like nothing would make him come unhinged.

  "Everything all right?" Declan asked quirking a brow in his direction. He'd always been able to suss out Hunter's moods, even when no one else could. It was one of the things that made them such good friends. Hunter never had to tell Declan something was wrong.

  "Sure. Why wouldn't it be?" Hunter refused to talk about it, down-playing it with a casual shrug of his shoulders and effectively hiding his snort at Declan's question. Other than the fact that the one woman who had always rendered him senseless had just taken a chunk out of his lip—after without a doubt the best kiss in a decade—he was just fucking spiffy.

  "Because you look like my Lucy just shoved a peg up your ass, dude." Jesse snorted.

  The tailor, a small thin man with a full head of gray hair, didn't so much as blink an eye at the tawdry talk. And his assistant, a rather dreary fellow who appeared like a younger carbon copy of the older gent, only rolled his mousy eyes.

  Tobias slung an arm around Hunter's neck. "Tell us what ails you my friend. Tell T all about it."

  "Back off." Hunter shrugged him off as the room burst into a chorus of laughter.

  The tailor approached him, handing him a suit bag with his tux inside. "If you would, Mr. Clarke. My assistant and I need to have all the final measurements. You can change behind the screen."

  Hunter nodded at the short fellow and took the tux from his hands. "Thank you, for this, and for being the only one in the room with an ounce of civility."

  The tailor turned back to him, leveled him with a snooty look, and said, without batting an eye, "I think you will find, Mr. Clarke, that just because one has stalwart manners in place, preventing him from joining in the frivolity and laughing outright, it doesn't mean one does not find the conversation, or your refusal to admit why your nose is bent out of shape, hilarious."

  At the man's response, the room of morons, Declan included, lost their minds, hooting and hollering with riotous laughter at his expense. Laugh it up, fuzzballs.

  Hunter didn't even bother going behind the screen to change. He dropped trou and slipped into the black tux with ease. The fitting seemed to take forever. But it was more; the guys didn't let up on ribbing him. When had he become the butt of the joke? Just because they were all blissed out and happy in relationships—except for Jared, but then, nothing ever seemed to faze him.

  When the tailor and his assistant exited with their tuxes, promising the finished product on the morrow, Declan had the guys remain behind. Tyler joined them shortly thereafter for an impromptu meeting.

  Declan called everyone to order as they all took a seat on the couches and chairs. "Since we are all here, I wanted to inform you that Tyler and I made the decision to close the club to anyone outside the manor until after the wedding festivities."

  Fuck me!

  Wasn't that just Hunter's damn rotten luck? Since the data breach, it had been one damn thing after another. His house, running into Veronica, and now the club was closed to outsiders? Christ, what was next, the Spanish Inquisition?

  "Out of all of us, this affects you the most, Hunter." Declan shot him a concerned glance.

  No kidding, Sherlock. Annoyed that they hadn't bothered to consult with him first, or any of the rest of the Doms who were part owners, Hunter replied, "Yeah, I got the memo on that one. Thanks for that."

  "It wasn't done out of spite, Hunter. With some press people arriving tomorrow and on the day of the wedding, Tyler and I thought it would be best. Secrecy is one of the most important pillars the Dungeon Fantasy Club rests on. With all the extra guests, there's too big a chance that we could risk exposing our club. It's not a decision we came to lightly, but we do feel it's the best course of action. All club activities will resume under Jared's guidance after Zoey and I leave on our honeymoon."

  Jared saluted, seemingly on board with the plan.

  Declan continued. "As it stands, for members in attendance, the club will still be made available for your use. However, please be discreet in your attire, and use the club service elevator on the fourth floor only to gain access to the club. That way we can avoid the press inadvertently entering it. On the day of the wedding, when the majority of the guests are present, Tobias will disable the main elevator's ability to descend to the club. That should waylay the press from ever catching the scent of its existence."

  "Is it wise to even keep it open?" Jesse said, drumming his fingers against his knee.

  Tyler added, "What if we use the club tonight, and then shut it down for the remainder of the weekend? Then we don't have to worry about the press catching a hint of anything."

  "I think that's a better idea, D. We use it tonight, and then, with the exception of your bachelor party tomorrow night, we close it until after the wedding," Jared commented.

  Hunter wanted to roar with frustration. He'd been looking forward to having a willing sub writhing underneath him, and now… Fuck!

  Majority ruled in the club. Already on thin ice because of the incident with Zoey, Hunter grudgingly agreed to the closure. He didn't want the exposure. Hell, if his sexual preferences were exposed, the press, those fucking vultures, would eat him alive. Any time his name ended up in the news thereafter, whether it was for an Oscar nomination, charity work, or his next film, the kinky story would be brought up again as fodder. So he understood the inherent risks that this move on their part circumvented. He truly did.

  But god, he needed to lose himself in a scene with a willing sub.

  Now more than ever, what with his blast from the past barging back into his life with her tempting lips and bodacious body, Hunter needed the distraction. Otherwise, he'd focus on the fact that, after all these years, he still craved her touch.

  So while he might have agreed with the group on paper, on the inside, he was Tarzan beating his chest with his need to dominate a sub. He'd have to find one tonight. Surely there was an unattached sub who would be willing. Maybe he could interest Sherry. Although he knew he had to watch it with that one, she seemed to get attached quickly, and all he wanted was release.

  With club business concluded, the topic of
conversation switched to Declan's bachelor party. Apparently they were keeping it dignified, at Declan's request, and had kept the number of strippers down to three.

  It wasn't long before Declan ushered them out of his office and down to the dining room for supper. Hunter loved Mrs. Stewart's cooking. The old gal had a way in the kitchen, and he always had to watch that he didn't overeat. Otherwise, he'd have to do double duty during his workouts. Although, for her tasty meals, it was worth the extra thirty minutes.

  Tobias introduced him to Ophelia, who blushed prettily at meeting him. Hunter could see what Tobias saw in her, and noted the protective arm around her waist, stroking the slight baby bump.

  "I forgot with all the commotion earlier that congrats were in order." Hunter clapped Tobias on the shoulder. "When are you due?"

  "In May," Ophelia replied, joining hands with Tobias over her belly. Hunter had never felt the urge to procreate, but watching the fierce bond between them made him rethink his position on it.

  More guests filed in. Zeke, Chase, and their sub Kara, Bastian, Jax, Collum, Lachlan, and Eric. Jesse had introduced him to Lucy, who was absolutely stunning. Delilah looked as gorgeous as ever, and introduced him to the orchestra quintet who'd be performing the music during the ceremony. Hunter cursed himself internally when he had to stop himself from searching the room for Veronica as everyone took their seat at the table.

  Declan forced him into a seat near Zoey. When Hunter would have protested, Declan murmured, "Be nice."

  Hunter considered Declan not just his friend, but his brother, so he conceded.

  It appeared that Zoey was doing her utmost to let bygones be bygones, and addressed him as Mrs. Stewart served dinner. "So, Hunter, what are your next films?"

  Veronica chose that moment to enter the dining room. She sat at the only seat left available, which just so happened to be directly across from his spot. When she spied him, she hesitated briefly before averting her face and taking her seat.

  Pretending for all and sundry as though Veronica's entrance didn't rattle him one iota, Hunter responded to Zoey with a smile covering his features. "I have a couple on the table, but none that I've committed to just yet."

  "Why is that?" Tobias's lovely pregnant sub Ophelia asked him.

  Hunter felt more than saw Roni's eyes on him. Interesting. For someone who had said it was over between them, she certainly was paying attention.

  "I haven't found a project that I really want to work on. And for the last few years, my film schedule has been a bit of a bear, so I'm taking some down time and waiting to see if something interests me."

  "What's it like on a set?" Kara asked. Zeke and Chase's little sub was sweet as she blushed.

  "Organized chaos. There's always movement and action of some kind."

  And thus dinner proceeded in that manner, with Hunter fielding questions. He was used to it. In his line of work as a public figure, it came with the territory. In this group, though, he was comfortable enough to be a little more open and less guarded than usual when he was peppered with questions. All throughout dinner, he talked about life on a movie set, different actors and directors, and answered everybody, but the one person he wanted interaction from himself was oddly silent. Roni sat across from him, intermingled with everyone else at the table, but somehow, through it all, she managed to avoid him completely.

  It stung, more than he wanted to admit.

  With their history, he shouldn't be surprised. Roni had always been a little firecracker with a spine made out of steel. He could remember the way she'd looked that first time she'd blazed onto his periscope.

  He'd stopped by the McGinnis pub after two brutal days of filming, with a little time off until the following morning before the director wanted to start with his group again. In fitted jeans and a pastel green blouse that hugged her nubile curves, Veronica had been laughing with a group of old codgers—the youngest of whom had to be eighty if he was a day—tossing her head back with a deep-throated laugh. Hunter had fallen on the spot, the urge to get to know her had clawed at him, and then she had walked to the kitchen door and shouted her order. When the old man, who he later learned was her father, had yelled back that he didn't change what was on the menu, a battle royal had ensued between the two. The rest of the patrons had watched, bemused, with gregarious smiles marking their faces. As Hunter later came to discover, shouting was the only way father and daughter communicated at the pub, and the townspeople appeared for the show.

  By the time the little firebrand reappeared, her indigo eyes blazing, cheeks flushed with temper, and wisps of her dark auburn hair spilling in ringlets from her topknot, Hunter had been halfway in love with her. He'd asked her for a date almost on the spot.

  She'd refused him, of course. But he went back for almost two weeks until she finally caved and agreed to go out with him.

  At the sound of her lilting chuckle, he shot his gaze toward her. She was laughing at something Tobias had said. Roni floored him with her natural beauty, which walloped him like a punch to the head. When she laughed, it made memories, ghosts of the best summer of his life, reach up and plunge a dagger into his heart.

  Had he ever stopped loving her?

  He'd hated her after they'd split. He'd mourned the relationship. He'd tried to get over her, but no matter where he'd gone, what he'd done, she'd always been with him. On every set, in every sub, and when he entered the lifestyle, he'd unconsciously looked for her.

  He'd had fun, had lovers who had made his eyes roll back into his skull. But not a single one had ever crawled underneath his skin the way she could with a single kiss.

  Christ! He needed to get down to the DFC and find himself a sub to lose himself in tonight. Otherwise, he'd lie awake and wonder about her in the room next to his, reliving memories that were better left dead and buried. He'd go stir crazy, and then do something remarkably stupid that would probably get him kicked out of the manor—and possibly the DFC.

  With as much diplomacy as he could muster, Hunter excused himself from the dinner table and the inadvertent scrutiny of the only woman he had ever loved.

  *****

  Just when Veronica thought she'd never breathe again, Hunter exited the dining room with a lingering backward glance. She couldn't stop her small, frustrated sigh. The man made her so guarded. The last hour had been one of the most uncomfortable dinners she had been through, ever. And that was saying something, considering the first month after she'd told her parents she was pregnant, her father had refused to speak to her.

  And she'd not been able to forget about that kiss.

  Every time she'd glanced across the table, she remembered the feel of his lips pressed against hers, and how he seemed capable of making her forget all the heartache and all the tears she'd cried when he'd walked away. And even more when she'd discovered she was pregnant.

  She wrung her hands under the table as people began departing.

  Veronica didn't know what to do about Hunter. It had been so many years; she'd allowed herself to create this insulated bubble, where nothing intruded on her perfect little world. While it wasn't flawless, it was comfortable. Her son was happy and healthy, and her dad, for all his bluster, was a good male role model for Colin.

  How would she tell Hunter about Colin? Guilt washed over her. When she had discovered she was pregnant, she'd been too raw, too hurt over his betrayal—so that when she'd tried to drum up the resolve to contact him, she'd chickened out. In her defense, she'd also happened across one of those tabloid magazines featuring Hunter and his co-star all cozied up together at a premiere, along with photographs of the two of them on some exotic beach, kissing. Again and again over the course of that first year, while she was pregnant and after Colin was born, she'd stared at her phone, trying to get up the courage to call him.

  Veronica never found that bravery.

  As more time passed, it became harder, and she'd gone for longer periods without thinking about Hunter. And she'd liked that, being able to forget ho
w her heart had shattered after he left. It had been far easier to pretend that Colin had been gifted her by an unnamed benefactor and was hers alone.

  There had been one incident, when Colin was three and had caught this horrible flu virus, that she'd tried to call Hunter, only to find out that the number she had was disconnected. Since then, she'd considered figuring out a way to contact him at different intervals, but life would get busy, and she'd put it at the back of her mind, to do later. Call her the queen of procrastination.

  She had to tell him. It was the right thing to do. But even as she considered it, she cringed.

  He'd be furious with her. And he had every right to be. She'd kept Colin's existence from him. No one except her parents knew who Colin's father was, not even her cousin. As much as Hunter had a right to know, she'd fretted, as his celebrity and popularity increased as an actor, the type of impact that would have on Colin. By the time Colin celebrated his first birthday, Hunter had rocketed to fame, becoming one of the leading men in Hollywood.

  She'd watched every film he'd starred in. Had his entire film collection hidden away in her closet, which she pulled out whenever she was feeling self-indulgent. Although, she only allowed herself the indulgence when Colin wasn't at home, or late at night after he was firmly tucked up in bed. Seeing Hunter again up close and personal, she realized that Colin was his spitting image. Her unintentional secret would be exposed eventually. Out of all of it, she prayed her son wouldn't hate her for keeping him in the dark for so long. Hunter, she'd deal with, the press too, if it became an issue, but she wouldn't survive Colin's scorn.

  After their earlier interlude, Veronica had not a clue how she should approach him. How did you tell a man he was a father?

  "Please say you are coming to the Dungeon tonight?" Zoey asked as she stood up. Her vibrant exuberance and warm friendship interrupted the dangerous train of Veronica's thoughts.

  Rising from her seat, Veronica responded, more resolved than ever to enjoy her evening. "Yes, I just have to give Colin a call to say good night, and get changed first. Then I should be down."