by Poppy Flynn
In fact, thinking of that reminded him that he was expecting an e-mail with the details of the submissive he had asked to be paired with for the duration of his visit. The thought gave him something rather more palatable to think about and he flipped open his laptop to see if there was any information.
Thursday evening had Christian tying up his business day as quickly as he could. He was keen to get to Club Risqué and have a look at the set up there and also to meet the submissive, Trinity, he had been paired with.
He was pleased. She had been his first choice when he had read her bio, and she had agreed to act as an escort to some of the functions he was required to attend. Apparently, she had prior experience with that, which was a plus. Not only that, but she was the club's assistant manager, a fact he hadn't been privy to, initially, and that was a real bonus because it also meant that she had an experienced track record. Christian knew without a doubt that Logan wouldn't have employed anyone who didn't have the very best of credentials in that role, so he was actually quite excited at meeting her. It was rather soothing, somehow, to be able to spend several solid weeks with the same sub in a definitive contract. It was something he hadn't enjoyed in too many years.
It was a shame there hadn't been a photograph of her in the file he'd been sent, but he knew that she was a dainty little thing. That was his preferences in body type, so it was an added bonus. And on the other hand, it meant that there were still a few mysteries to look forward to. They had both already signed the contracts, so tonight, they could start to play. Saying that, as keen as he was, he was also looking forward to looking around Club Risqué, and maybe getting to know a little bit about her, before they got right on down to scening together. He liked to spend a bit of time with the submissives he played with at first. Getting to know them and the sorts of things they were interested in, both inside and outside the lifestyle, went a long way to preparing for a satisfying scene as far as he was concerned. And if Trinity was going to accompany him to functions outside the lifestyle, then it would help for him to know more about her. He accepted that she had intercourse as a soft limit and he was cool with that, but if the chemistry was right between them, he hoped they could negotiate on that point before his time here was through.
Christian was astonished when he first set foot through the doors. He had been told that the club was unique in its composition, but that hadn't quite prepared him for the sight that greeted when he initially walked in. It really wasn't like anything he had ever seen before.
He almost wanted to stay a while and take in the tableau of the all the erotic acts that were being displayed on the platforms suspended above the dance floor, and maybe on another occasion, he would, but right now he had a pressing appointment with his new submissive. As it was, he spent a good ten minutes with his feet glued to the floor, unable to move past the spectacle, but eventually, he hastened up the stairs, using the special entry code he'd been given. The security for the dungeon level was top notch; he'd give them that.
Passing through security had obviously alerted someone to his presence because when he cleared the final doors, the manager, Micah Flynn, was waiting for him.
"Good to finally meet you in person, Night." Micah smiled, extending his hand and calling Christian by his club name.
He took the proffered hand and shook it. Micah had a firm grip but didn't feel the need to play power games despite the fact that he was built like a damn body builder. Christian appreciated the fact that there were no contests of one-upmanship to be enacted here, and also the fact that Micah Flynn was confident enough within himself that he didn't feel like he had anything to prove to any other Doms who set foot through these doors and into what was, in effect, his domain.
"Trinity's in her office checking on the evening security feeds. I'll introduce you and then let the two of you get to know each other." Micah gestured for Christian to precede him through a door marked 'private', which was a much more utilitarian space and clearly housed the offices and security section of the club, discreetly, behind closed doors.
"I'm sure you can appreciate that while Trinity is your contracted submissive for the duration of your visit, she is still the assistant manager, and as such, there may sometimes be unexpected demands on her time which can't be avoided," Micah said as they walked down the corridor. "We'll do our best to keep that to a minimum, of course, and as a gesture of goodwill, I have made allowances in Trinity's work hours to allow her to accompany you to your functions whenever necessary, although it would be useful if I could get some advance notice of those things to ease our schedule."
"Of course," Christian agreed immediately. "I have all those details already; I'll email a copy to you tomorrow morning."
"Appreciate it," Micah replied, indicating a door just ahead of them. "This is Trinity's office. I'll make the introductions and give the two of you some privacy for a little while."
He opened the door without knocking and led the way into a generous space where a tiny, fairylike woman with short, spiky, bright red hair had her back to them, watching a plethora of video feeds on a bank of screens which filled the wall behind her desk.
She was wearing a poppy red corset that highlighted her tiny waist, a supple suede skirt than cupped her ass to perfection, hugging every dainty curve, and red stilettoes, which still wouldn't bring her to his shoulder, despite their five-inch heels. Christian liked what he saw so far and couldn't wait for her to turn around.
"Hey, sprite," Micah called out. "Time to put the work to bed and play for a little while. This is Master Night."
Christian was surprised at the clear note of familiarity and affection in Micah's voice. If he didn't know better, he might almost think there was something more between them than a camaraderie born of simple work colleagues.
"Night, this is Trinity. I'll leave the two of you to get acquainted."
Whatever else Christian might have thought flew straight out of his head as the woman in front of him turned, and a cool pair of familiar, silver eyes stared back at him.
Chapter 9
"Tara?" Christian gasped, not even acknowledging that Micah had left the room and closed the door behind them. He couldn't believe his eyes. The last he had heard, this woman, who had once been his closest friend, had packed up and headed back to her home on the south coast. To his very great regret, he'd had no contact with her since.
She was still the same tiny little fairy-type thing. The biggest difference was her hair; where it had once flowed down her back in long, golden waves, now, it was short and spiky and bright red. It kind of suited her heart shaped face and gave her a bit of an elfin look, but it was a still a rather shocking transformation. And what was she doing in a place like this?
"What on earth did you do to your hair, Tara?" He wasn't sure where the words had come from, and he didn't quite mean to say them with quite the amount of censure that was evident. They had somehow just sort of blurted from his subconscious.
The precious face, which had been carefully blank until now, morphed quickly into an icy anger that he had rarely seen her display in the past.
"My name is Trinity now," she corrected coldly. "And even during those times I believed you to be my friend, it was never Tara!"
Christian winced at the disdain in her voice. That was a new thing for one of the most generous and giving people he had ever met in his life. He lifted his hands in supplication, intending to placate her, but she wasn't finished. Nowhere near, in fact.
"What I do with my hair is not, and has never been, any of your concern." Neither of them alluded to the fact that she had always worn it long because it was how he'd preferred it. "And as for what I am doing here, I'm sure you are well aware by now that I am the club's assistant manager. Not that that is any of your business, either."
He hadn't realised until then that he had said that bit out loud. Jesus, this wasn't going the way he had imagined. Not that he'd imagined he was going to run into Tara…Taryn…Trinity, but in the multitude o
f times—too many to count—that he had imagined seeing her again, he had always had a carefully thought out and ready rehearsed spiel, practiced with which to reassure her.
Right now, any words he ever might have thought up had fled from his mind in the face of the shock and the reality of actually seeing her again. And it was obvious that she was not a happy bunny!
She moved to press the office intercom on her desk. "I'll let Micah know that our contract is void and that he needs to find you a different submissive," she declared as she stabbed the intercom button with no small amount of force.
Christian was by her side before he even realised that he was moving, grabbing her hand and preventing her from connecting the call.
"No!" he exclaimed forcefully. "That's not what I want."
"Unfortunately, Christian." She acknowledged his name for the first time since he had entered the room. "While you may be used to having things your own way, not everything you want is always available to you," she declared coolly.
"Please, Taryn, don't do this," he implored, since begging seemed to be the only recourse left to him. It was clear she had no interest in dealing with him, so all he could do was appeal to her better nature. Unlike most people he came into contact with, he knew she had one and he knew just how generous it was. He'd been stupid enough, once, to take advantage of that and then let her go. He was determined, now that a second chance seemed to have been dumped right in his lap, that he was going to correct the errors of his past.
Later, Trinity would wonder if it was the fact he had used her given name that had stopped her from following through with her promise to have him assigned to a different submissive. Right now, though, she was still reeling from the fact that Christian Knightly was standing in her office, after all these years, and that he was none other than her contracted client, Master Night. It was all the more disquieting after the distressing memories that had been conjured over the past week which were liable to make her all the more susceptible to him. Or were they? Maybe recalling all that pain was a good thing.
She rubbed her hands over her face, wondering if karma had come to bite her in the ass, or whether this was an opportunity to finally put some of those ghosts to rest.
Her mind had gone completely blank when Micah had introduced him, as if it was just too much to compute that Christian was right there, standing in her office, looking just as delicious as he had five years before.
Maybe even better, if she was being entirely truthful. His chest and shoulders had filled out, and even wearing a black silk shirt and leather trousers, she could tell he was at the peak of physical fitness. The boy she had known had turned into a man.
He stood next to her quietly, patiently waiting for her decision, close enough, but giving her a modicum of space, which she was grateful for. Had he pushed, she would have found it very much easier to deny him, but since he simply stood there, waiting, those soulful hazel eyes serious, with a tiny hint of puppy dog, but not enough to make her think he was hamming it up, she found herself all the more torn.
"I'm not sure this is going to work, Christian," she sighed honestly.
"Just give it a chance, Taryn, please? Give it until the weekend. Three days. After that, if you still think it's not going to work, then we can ask Micah to alter things next week. In the interim, we can take everything just as slowly as you like."
Trinity felt unbelievably awkward. She had known this man better than anybody who had ever entered her life, but the man—or the Dom—he had become was an unknown quantity. Things were the same and yet completely different, and she couldn't quite work out where she stood. It was almost like being in the room with a stranger and yet one she knew intimately. She found she didn't automatically recognise how to interact with him, and that made her nervous. She really couldn't identify what to do for the best. If she refused his request, would she end up regretting it for the rest of her life—because this surely would be the last time either of them might make any kind of effort—or would agreeing to the few days he asked for just dredge up the past in the worst possible way?
And then there was the million-dollar question—could she trust herself?
Was it possible for her to have any realistic kind of interaction with Christian without falling right back under his spell?
She had never really gotten over him; that was the real issue here. Whether she still loved him or not, she wasn't quite sure, but she feared that if she spent any kind of quality time with him, there was a significant danger that she might find herself right back where she started, and she really didn't want to go through all that heartbreak again.
That was when reality struck her square between the eyes with the force of a physical blow. Bianca!
Christian could see the emotions flitting across her face, one after another. He couldn't accurately read them all, but he knew that whatever decision she had just come to was not a good one.
Trinity turned to him, her expression blank once again. "I'm sorry, Christian, but I do have certain standards, and while I realise that a lot of couples within the lifestyle swing and share, I'm afraid I refuse to scene with a married man without the express approval of his spouse, and maybe not even then," she said stiffly, reaching for the intercom once more.
This time, Christian's hand covered hers and stilled it before she could hit the button. He sucked in an audible breath before he hit her with the bombshell. "I'm not married anymore," he grated out, and it almost sounded to Trinity like the admission pained him. "I haven't been for over four years."
Trinity stood stock still, taking in everything he had just said, her head spinning in confusion. If he had been divorced that long, then he couldn't have even been married a full year. Things must have fallen apart within months of her return to the south coast.
But did that even matter? It didn't change anything that happened before; it just meant he had no ties for her to worry about right now. In fact, maybe it was worse; it meant he'd thrown away years of friendship over a flash-in-the-pan relationship which had lasted a matter of months.
Pulling her hand away from the intercom and using it to pull her around to face him, Christian used his other hand to tip her chin, so she was forced to look him straight in the eye. This time, he did touch her, his fingertips and his palm chasing across the sensitive skin of her face until his fingers sifted through the short strands of her hair and his palm cupped her cheek.
Right then and there, Trinity knew she was lost. Her skin started to tingle at his barest touch, and she couldn't stop the shudder that skittered down her spine. It had always been this way. One touch was all it had ever taken. She closed her eyes and screwed them up tight, not wanting to look him in the eyes as her breaths began to come in short, sharp pants. He dropped her hand then, but only so that he could move it to her waist and pull her closer until there was no space between them at all and the heat of his body fairly scorched her.
"Look at me," he demanded, his voice deepening in command and his breath hot against her cheek. Trinity found her eyes flying open with the innate, inbred desire to obey. As soon as she did, she found herself falling into those dark, unique eyes she had always adored.
Christian rubbed his thumb across her lower lip and she instinctively opened to him, drowning in bittersweet desire, even as she felt torn in two opposing directions.
"Just give it a chance," he breathed as if he knew she was wavering.
She wanted this. She didn't want this.
Tears prickled behind her eyes at the frustration of her indecision, but Christian made the choice for her when his head drew closer and his mouth replaced his thumb on her lips. He held her head immobile while he brushed his lips ever so lightly against hers then sipped a little before groaning out loud and pressing more firmly against her, licking at the seam and requesting an entry she was helpless to deny, before plundering her mouth in a kiss that stole her breath as well as another little part of her soul.
She grasped at his silk shirt, crump
ling the fabric in her fierce grip as she held on for dear life and let him lead her wherever he wanted to go.
The kiss was, at once, heaven and hell combined. It was everything she ever wanted, and everything that she was terrified of tasting, only to have it ripped away once again. She wasn't that naïve, idealistic young girl any more. She knew just where unrealistic dreams and foolish hope took you, and she didn't want to go there again.
Trust! Trust was the real issue here. She knew that Christian had never made any promises, acknowledged that he had been careful to ensure she understood why he couldn't devote himself to a committed, romantic relationship. She had accepted all of that even while she had hoped for more. That was on her, not on him.
But of course, it had all been a lie. When it came right down to it, all those noble excuses had gone out of the window as soon as Bianca had come along. She might have accepted that. She knew it was impossible to make someone love you, no matter how hard you willed it. She also knew from first-hand experience that when love struck, sometimes you were powerless against the emotions that seized you up and swept you along, like a tidal wave, forging its own path, regardless of what direction you might want to take.
She could accept that Christian had fallen head over heels for somebody else, and while it still broke her heart, more than anything, she'd wanted him to be happy. Even if that happiness didn't include her.
What she couldn't get over, right this minute, was the fact that he had tossed aside the one and only thing he had ever promised her. He had told her that he would always be her friend and then he had thrown away their friendship like it was worthless.
