“I don’t talk about that,” she reminded him in a sharp tone born of fear. Fear that her weakness would be revealed, and that people would see her for the scared, pathetic little girl she was. This façade she wore was well-worn, fitting her like a second skin, but the person beneath still lurked.
“And I understand why, although I stand by my opinion that you should have gone for counselling. That shit can fuck with your head in ways you can’t imagine.” He glanced at her over the sleek wooden top. “It can affect your future relationships, how you think about certain things, react to different stimulus.”
Her eyes dropped to her hands as she rolled the money between her fingers. He didn’t suspect, did he? No, he wouldn’t have any reason to. Just because she’d been single for an extraordinary amount of time—like, forever—it didn’t mean anything. She knew plenty of people, women and men, who preferred their own company over that of a lover.
“You know, we have some amazing clients who come in here on a regular basis. Everyone from doctors and EMTs to cops, politicians, and ranchers. Braun will require you to fill some standard paperwork out before the doors open tonight, but once that’s done, we have a lovely psychologist who I think you’d get on with.”
Her eyes snapped up, flashing with indignation and fire. “No.”
“Bodie...”
“I said no. I’m fine just the way I am. People need to keep their fucking meddling fingers out of my head.” Even the thought of being pulled into pieces to see how she ticked made her blood run cold. “Drop it, Liam.”
Obviously discontent with her decree, Liam shrugged his shoulders and slid a sandwich on a plate onto the bar. “As you wish. I don’t have much food behind the bar tonight, but you need to eat small meals often so you don’t get sick from overindulgence.”
“Back to mothering me, huh?” Uneasy with the tension hanging around them, Bodie reached out and snagged the plate, dragging it toward her as her mouth flooded with saliva. It was only a sandwich but, by God, her system craved the taste of real food instead of stale scraps. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. When you’ve eaten up, you can go take a nap in the pit until Braun’s ready to do the paperwork.” As though the conversation hadn’t occurred, Liam was busy cleaning up after himself. “No one will touch you, Bodie. I won’t be leaving this building, and Braun will be back once he finishes his inspection.”
Reassured somewhat, Bodie slid onto a barstool and ripped into her food with a decadent moan of sheer hunger. Nothing in the world tasted better than this sandwich.
She polished it off in record time, then rested her forearms on the bar and dropped her head onto them as her stomach gurgled and processed its bounty. Listening to Liam sing under his breath, she fell asleep where she sat.
Chapter Three
Completing the paperwork with Boadicea proved enlightening to say the least. Cloistered away in his office with the angry, uncertain little minx, Braun took his time with her, making damn sure she read every word of the NDA and club rules before signing her name on the dotted line.
She swung between skittish and defiant so often he was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash from the erratic mood swings. Apparently her anxiety ruled her emotions, turning her into a snappish bitch one minute and then reverting her back to a polite, shy young woman.
As with everyone who walked through his doors, staff and clients alike, he handed her the limits list to read and process in her own way. If there was even the slightest chance someone was going to play under his roof, that list was filled out and filed ready for use.
Bodie was a million light years away from doing so much as considering the idea of dipping her toes in kinky waters, but he wanted to be prepared in case she took him by surprise and cannonballed into the deep end.
From the expression on her face as her eyes scanned the sheet of activities, he’d have had a better reaction if he’d pulled out a gun and threatened to shoot her firstborn son.
Confusion first, then dawning understanding. From that into horror before it morphed seamlessly into outrage. There’d been a second of dire terror in her eyes before she’d erected those goddamn walls and shielded her true feelings behind it.
While she fumed over the list, Braun leaned back in his leather desk chair and sent a barrage of texts to the Masters and Mistresses of Avalon who he knew for definite would be attending tonight, assigning them all a task. He kept an interested eye on his charge as she huffed and squirmed in her chair on the other side of the desk.
When Bodie’s face crumpled slightly, bottom lip trembling, he braced for an explosion. With a little cry of distress, she bounced the pen in her hand off his cluttered workspace and screwed the half-completed paper into a ball that she launched at the wall.
If she’d been in a headspace where she respected his authority, Braun would’ve happily spanked the temper tantrum out of her system. But she hadn’t recognized herself as submissive yet, so wouldn’t welcome the release he could give her.
Instead he gave her the doleful stare of a man unimpressed by said tantrum and said in a low, firm voice, “Pick that up and put it in the trash please.”
Her lips twitched in a curl as she glared back at him, but unfortunately for Bodie, a subbie—especially a novice subbie—didn’t have the willpower to remain stubborn under the steely gaze of an experienced and unflappable Dominant. However, she gave it the old college try and lasted almost ninety seconds before she capitulated and slunk from her chair to retrieve the ball and drop it in the wastebasket next to his desk.
Smiling to himself, he pushed a fresh limits list in front of her just as her pretty ass dropped back into her seat. Her shoulders sagged in defeat as he rolled another pen within reach.
His phone signaled with a text.
“Why do I have to do this stupid form?” she demanded with a scowl. She flicked her fingers irritably at the pen and spun it back toward him. “I’m coming here to work, not...cavort with your clients.”
“We tend not to cavort here,” he said absently as he read Connie’s reply to his request. Fingers flying over the keyboard, he sent a quick thank you, then set his phone aside and studied the anxious woman across from him. “All my employees have completed the very same stupid form, little one. It’s just a precaution.”
“A precaution in case I lose my mind and want someone to hurt me?” The mulish set of her mouth was driving him crazy with the urge to yank her over the desk and kiss her into submission. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
Someone really needed to level the girl’s head out before that bratty attitude cost her a sore bottom. Braun decided to keep her under close scrutiny during her first few weeks—not just for the pleasure of watching her, but to prevent her from doing something stupid like sassing the wrong fucking Dom.
His phone pinged with another message. Atticus this time, but another positive reply. Excellent. Things were sliding into all the right places.
With his patience firmly in hand, Braun simply lifted his eyebrow and tapped his finger on his desk. “I’m afraid I’ll have to be strict about this and insist, Boadicea. We will sit here all night if needs be but be mindful that your preparation time for your performance is slowly ticking down.”
Bodie worried her lip. Bit her thumbnail. Shot daggers at the innocuous piece of paper. With the short, jerky movements of a pissed off child, she snatched up the pen and ticked boxes with reckless regard. It took her less than two minutes to shove the finished form back at him with a sulky little hiss. “All done.”
Unhurried, Braun picked it up and perused it with a careful eye. He damn near snorted when he saw what she’d “agreed” to try and not try. If she was aware of half of what some of the activities entailed, she’d be scrambling to amend her answers. Never mind. He would repeat this exercise again in the very near future and take the time to explain each kink so she could make an informed decision rather than choices dictated by her nerves and temper.
For now, he’
d won this round and he was happy to claim the victory.
“Thank you, Bodie. Now that the paperwork is dealt with, why don’t you tell me what equipment you need me to supply for your performances. Music, costumes, props? I can source probably anything and everything you require.”
She blinked slowly and he could see her thoughts rolling over her pale face. Why isn’t he yelling at me? Maybe if I’m bitchy enough, he’ll kick me out of his stupid sex club. But...I need the job. I really need the fucking money.
Shit.
The switch from sex to work seemed to settle her down some. It was evident sex pushed her distress button and caused her to deploy her inner army of warrior bitches.
She rattled off a brief list of things she needed for her trial run and Braun nodded, using his phone to note them down before sending another volley of texts out into the world.
“Wonderful, I’ll do my best to see it all gets here in the next,”—he checked his watch for the time—“hour or so. That’ll give you thirty minutes to set things up to your preference before the club opens. Wednesday nights tend to be quieter at the moment so it’s an ideal time for you to acquaint yourself with the stage and my people.”
“Thank you.”
“I will be on the floor in the social area tonight, as will Liam. If you run into any problems, you can come to either one of us. However, the club monitors will also be doing their rounds. They wear black shirts like mine,” he explained, plucking at his own soft shirt, “and they have Avalon’s logo stitched on the breast pocket in silver. You can approach any one of them and they will assist you.”
“They won’t think I’m an idiot?”
“Darlin’, we don’t judge people. This is out of your comfort zone, I know. No one will think any differently of you if things overwhelm you on your first few nights, and the monitors are always pleased to help anyone who needs it.”
How fascinating was it to see his calm answer strip another layer of unease from her slight frame? The poor girl had so much pent-up anxiety inside her with more triggers than she might realize. Her mind must be an intricate spider’s web of traps and pitfalls twisted along the narrow path of her thoughts.
They fell into an almost companionable silence, both observing the other with quiet intensity. The longer the silence went on, the more Bodie relaxed. White-knuckled fingers returned to their normal color and her breathing slowed, deepened.
“Have you any questions?” Braun murmured, unwilling to break the easy atmosphere with a loud voice. “Anything I can reassure you about?”
She shook her head slowly, gnawing lightly on her bottom lip.
“Okay then, I think we’re done here for the moment. If you speak to Liam, he’ll show you where the music system is kept. We have a vast selection of music so feel free to rummage through and use what suits you. I’ll have the rest of your requests brought directly to you when they arrive.”
The woman sitting before him now was intrinsically different to the one who walked in behind him and threw herself into his visitor’s chair like a put-upon teenager. She really was the most enigmatic creature he’d ever come across. “Thank you. I-I’m sorry for being such a bitch. I get...snarky when I’m uncomfortable.”
Uncomfortable wasn’t the word he’d use to describe her, Braun thought, but let it slide. He wasn’t going to turn this into a confrontation when she had the guts to apologize to him without prompting. “I appreciate the apology, Boadicea. One bit of advice, darlin’? If you get nervous out there when the club’s occupied and you need to mouth off, come to Liam or me and blow off some steam. We’ll give you leeway on your temper.” Braun rubbed his chin carefully. “Do not get shitty with the clients. Should you unleash that delightful inner bitch on a Dominant...you might find your ass is forfeit to a punishment.”
She looked unbearably sad and young then. Her fingers intertwined worriedly. “I know. I saw the stipulation in the club rules.”
Promising, he decided. Very promising. For her to read and recognize the rule of disrespect and still sign the document...well, there was hope for her yet. He gentled his voice to the point it soothed the lines of tension around her eyes. “Good girl, darlin’. I’m very pleased you’ve taken notice of the rules and remembered them.”
Bodie looked startled, but as his words sank in, an attractive flush of arousal crept up her throat. On her lap, her knotted hands pressed hard into the apex of her thighs.
Hmmm, the little scared mouse became stimulated by praise.
Handy to know.
Before she could freak herself out by overthinking her reaction, Braun made the decision to leave things on a high note. He rose and rounded the desk, offering his hand and waiting for her to choose her stance. Would she remain docile or would she take a protective stand?
When she swallowed hard enough for her throat to click nervously, Braun smiled kindly. He fucking loved how her brain worked. She hesitated before slipping a slightly damp, incredibly cold set of fingers against his palm, then jolted when he wrapped his big hand completely around hers and drew her to her feet.
“That’s a clever girl,” he crooned, leading her toward the door. If he didn’t get her at least twenty feet away from him in the next thirty seconds, his immaculate self-control threatened to revolt. “You know where to find Liam?”
Bodie nodded, seemingly struck mute by the capture of her hand. Meek as a lamb, she followed him without a single sharp word or ball-busting glare.
Perfect.
With one last good girl to make her happy, Braun nudged her out of his office and shut the door behind her before he could drag her back in and plunder her mouth. He ran his hands over his face and blew out a long breath, ignoring the throb of his cock trapped in his pants.
He was a sucker for a woman with fire in her blood, with a little something about her when she wasn’t immersed in a scene. Give him character and spirit any day of the week, as long as she could submit to him and offer him her trust.
Bodie might be a train wreck for a Dom in her present state of mind, but the potential was there to guide her into becoming a strong, confident submissive if someone had the time, patience, and desire to throw himself in front of the train.
*
Something weird had just happened.
Boadicea couldn’t put her finger on it, couldn’t define it, but something had shifted inside her the moment she set her hand in Braun’s. She was shaken down to the core, rocked by the surge of unwelcome arousal that smacked her in the womb and caused a warm rush of slick to gather in her private parts.
She actually liked him.
No, she didn’t. Uh-uh. No, she did not like Braun or any part of what he was involved in. Master of perversions, King of sexual deviancy. She had an inkling of what would go on when Avalon opened its doors in a couple hours and visions of orgies danced in her head like a pornographic carousel.
But he was nice, wasn’t he? Even when she’d insulted him and tried to give the money back, he hadn’t lost his temper or raised his voice. Voice quiet and calm, he’d lulled her into a state of acceptance. Just like in his office. Her anxiety attack made her act like a child, stress showing itself in temper rather than tears, but he’d simply...ignored her.
By not feeding her attitude, he’d starved her of the fuel needed to keep the attack running. As though she was a candle in a jar, burning all the oxygen that drifted close, and he was the lid sliding into place to smother the flame of her distress.
Fuck.
Braun Fitzpatrick was a dangerous man, she realized. The way he acted around her, the good girls and careful touches...he posed a threat to her perfectly constructed fortress of protection. If he had a mind to, and she had no doubts a man with his dominant nature would, he could raze years of meticulous self-preservation defenses to the ground and simply stroll into the dark, shitty tempest of what she truly was inside.
It cannot be allowed.
A little unsteady on her feet, Bodie staggered down the hallway bac
k toward the “social area”. She couldn’t afford to think about Braun anymore, not if she wanted to stay strong and in control. Not when there was a job to do, a performance to plan, and a testing night ahead of her.
Braun’s office was tucked just to the right of the doors leading to the next section of the club. There were no windows in the wooden tunnel, but the lighting was warm, ushering her along. The carpet beneath her feet was soft, springy, beneath her feet and the color of crushed blackberries. Not quite black, not quite purple, but an attractive mix of both.
By the time she made it back to the first barn, she was steadier. The quiet, confused woman who’d slipped into position and been blinded by Braun’s magnetism drifted away again, leaving the Bodie she knew and understood in her place.
Liam leaned on the bar, laughing with a strange man who looked like some kind of Nordic god. She considered them both warily, pausing in the doorway before she attracted their attention, and weighed up the newcomer.
At least two inches taller than Liam, lean and fit. Dressed in black leather pants and, oh joys, a black silk shirt with the Avalon logo in silver on the breast pocket. Okay then, the guy was a club monitor. His hair was cropped short and the whitest shade of blond she’d ever seen.
Liam, in all his handsome scruffiness, looked like a Viking warrior.
This guy was an ice king.
The light glinted off a stud in his ear, twinkling bright as a star as his head fell back on a low, rumbling laugh. Whatever they were talking about, it was hitting his humor button repeatedly.
Liam glanced at his watch, then at the door. Warmth spread over his face when he caught sight of her lurking. “There she is. I thought the boss might have stolen you away for good, Bo. Why don’t you come say hello to a good friend of mine?”
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