by Sherri Hayes
Sure enough, on the inside of her thigh was a small amount of Ryan’s cum. She grabbed a paper towel from the bar, dipped it in some water Brandon had sitting close by, and removed the evidence of her afternoon adventures. “Happy?”
Brandon chuckled. “I think the better question would be, are you happy? You’ve obviously just had more fun than I have.”
She gave him a wink. “True. Speaking of which. . . I need to get back upstairs.”
He nodded. “Tell Ryan to stop by when he’s done. I wanted to ask him something.”
“Sure.”
***
When Katrina ambled back into the upstairs room, Ryan was pulling up his jeans. He really was a fine specimen of a man. She’d suggested he try playing with a few of the other Dommes at the club, but every time she brought it up, he shrugged and said ‘maybe’. Then, he would change the subject.
“Looks like you’ve got your sea legs back.”
Ryan turned around. When he saw it was Katrina, he smirked. “I’m still a little wobbly, but I don’t think I’m in danger of falling down, at least.”
She nodded. “There’s more water in the fridge. Make sure you drink another bottle before you leave. Also, Brandon wanted you to stop by the bar on your way out. He says he needs to talk to you.”
“I’ll clean up here and then head down,” he said.
“Very well. I’ll be downstairs if you should need anything else.”
He met her gaze and then began gathering the clothespins from where she’d discarded them on the floor. Part of the arrangement she had with the subs she played with was that they were responsible for cleanup of all toys and the space in general. Ali would go through and make sure the other rooms were satisfactory, but Ryan would take care of this room. Katrina knew he’d make sure everything was perfect. Ryan wanted to please her. She only hoped it didn’t become more for him. Not only was he thirteen years younger than she was and in a completely different place in his life, but she had no desire to take on a permanent submissive.
Heading back down to her office, Katrina shut the door and took a seat behind her desk. She knew Peter Monroe’s number by heart and dialed it quickly.
“How’s my favorite Dominatrix?” he boomed.
Katrina rolled her eyes. “I’m not a Dominatrix. How many times have I told you that?”
Peter snickered.
She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Ah, but you love me anyway.”
It was true. Peter had worked for the St. Louis Police Department with her husband, Doug, for almost twenty years before Peter had decided to become a PI. According to him, it was better pay, better hours, and there was less danger of getting shot at. “We’ll see about that. I need another background check run on an applicant.”
“What’ya got?”
She gave him Drew Parker’s name, address, and place of employment.
“I should have something for you by the middle of next week. If he’s on the city’s payroll, it shouldn’t take long to verify most of this.”
“Thanks, Peter. Call me if you need anything else.”
After finishing her call, Katrina filed Drew’s application away and locked up. She wanted to go home and change before the club opened later that night. The session with Ryan had left her sweating and smelling of sex. It had been nice at the time, but she’d rather not feel that way for the next six hours.
When she walked back into the club’s main room, Brandon and Ryan had their heads together at the bar. “I’m heading out. I’ll be back before we open.”
They both looked up, and Brandon nodded. Ryan. . . well, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
Deciding it was probably best she didn’t know, Katrina made her way out the front door and over to her car, which was parked in the lot that ran along the side of the building. The club was near the center of downtown. Given it was late afternoon on a Friday, there was a lot of traffic. All that would change in a few hours when people migrated to their homes in the suburbs. By the time the club opened, the surrounding streets would be close to deserted.
She lived in a condo roughly ten miles from the club. It was close enough that she could get back and forth quickly if needed, but far enough that she wasn’t tempted to spend more time working than necessary.
As soon as she walked in the door, her phone rang. It was her son, Nathan. He was a senior at Indiana University. It was hard to believe he was all grown up and for all intents and purposes out on his own.
By the time she hung up the phone, it was after six. She raced through her shower, changed into some comfortable club wear, and did her hair and makeup. Swiping her keys off the kitchen island where she’d left them, she headed back to the club.
Luckily, when she walked in the door, Brandon and Ali had everything ready to go. All she had to do was dim the lights and turn on the music.
“Everything all right?” Brandon asked.
She must look more harried than she thought. “Yeah, I’m fine. Nathan called to ask if it would be all right if he brought his girlfriend home to meet me over Easter weekend.”
“Wow. Must be serious. He’s never brought a girl home before, has he?”
Katrina shook her head. “Not since high school, and that doesn’t really count.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
She glanced around but didn’t see Ali. “Is Ali still upstairs?”
“No. I think she’s in the locker room changing.”
Katrina strolled over to the wall and opened the cabinet that housed the sound system. Everything was pre-programed. When she had been brainstorming ideas for the club, she’d considered hiring a live DJ. However, after hammering out the details, she realized it wasn’t worth it. The person would have had to not only pass her background check, but also be open to the activities that would be taking place in the club. . . and uphold the members’ privacy. Finding Brandon and Chase, her other bartender, had been difficult enough. Brandon was a Dom. Chase wasn’t, but he had a very open mind, so it worked.
Once the music was playing, she lowered the lights and took a final look around. Everything was ready. And according to her watch, people would begin arriving within the next ten to fifteen minutes.
As she was coming back downstairs after inspecting the rooms one last time, Katrina ran into Ali, who looked as if she were upset. “Ali, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head.
“Come with me.” Katrina didn’t give her time to refuse. Instead, she led Ali to her office. Unlocking the door, she ushered her inside, and instructed her to have a seat. “Now, tell me what’s wrong. You look like you’ve been crying.”
Ali sighed and began wringing her hands together. “It’s nothing. I just thought this guy was interested, and it turns out he’s not.”
Although it was none of Katrina’s business and she really shouldn’t pry, she asked anyway. “Someone from the club?”
Ali shifted in her seat, but didn’t answer the question.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“It’s not a big deal. He says he’s not interested in me like that. It’s not his fault. He never promised me anything.”
Katrina had a feeling she knew who it was based on who she’d seen Ali hanging out with when she wasn’t manning the coat check. Maybe it was a good thing Ali would be behind the counter tonight and not mingling with the other members.
Pulling up a chair, Katrina sat down next to Ali and pulled her into a hug. Ali was in her early thirties, but there was something about the girl that brought out Katrina’s mothering instinct. “One of these days, you’re going to find a guy—the right guy for you.”
“Yeah, well, I wish he’d hurry up already. I’m not getting any younger.”
They both chuckled.
Ali pulled away, and Katrina let her go. “Thanks for listening to my problems. I should probably get out there.”
“I’ll come by and check on you later.
”
Nodding, Ali exited the office, leaving Katrina alone again. One of the things she hadn’t anticipated about running a private club was the human drama—although, maybe, she should have. Some of her members were married. Others dated—sometimes seriously and sometimes not. Whenever people’s emotions were involved, there was drama. For the most part, she tried to stay out of it. Sometimes that was easier said than done.
One thing she didn’t tolerate was people who misrepresent themselves. The lifestyle was all about honesty. If all you wanted was someone to play with, that was fine as long as you were upfront about it. She’d had to revoke one man’s membership last year because he would come to the club, cozy up to a young submissive, and promise to give her the world. Then, after she played with him, he would move on to the next sub and act as if she didn’t exist. That wasn’t okay in Katrina’s book.
In Ali’s case, however, it sounded as though she’d pinned her hopes on someone who hadn’t promised her anything. Katrina remembered well enough what it was like to put yourself out there, hoping your affections would be returned, only to have those hopes dashed. It never got any easier, no matter how old you were. Ali was still young, though. She’d find someone eventually as long as she kept herself open to it.
Trying to put Ali’s man problems out of her mind, Katrina logged on to her computer and checked her email. After confirming she hadn’t received anything new, she made her way out into the club to socialize. One couple was already on the small dance floor. The few others who had arrived were either at the bar getting drinks or congregated in the various seating areas.
To the casual observer, the entire first floor looked like any other club. There were couches, chairs, and coffee tables on one side. On the other was a space for those who wanted to dance, a bar, and higher tables for members who preferred to stand and talk. Along the back wall was a raised platform that could be used as a stage, a set of stairs to the second floor, and a short hallway that led to the bathrooms, the locker rooms, and a storage room. There was a doorway near the front entrance that opened to a long hallway, which contained her office and rooms she was currently using as storage. One of these days, she was hoping to turn them into theme rooms, but so far, that hadn’t happened. They were too separated from the other areas to be convenient.
“And how is our club mistress this evening?”
She turned to find Daniel, a Dom in his fifties. “Thirsty, actually. I was heading over to the bar to get something. Care to join me?”
He followed her over and ordered a whisky, neat. She stuck with water.
They found an empty table not far from the bar and stood with their drinks.
“So, what’s on your mind?” she asked.
“Ah. You know me too well.”
“Yes, well. . . it’s not often that you seek me out. At least, not this early in the evening.” She took a sip of her water and waited for him to talk.
“Have you seen Ali tonight?”
So that was it. Was he the one who’d upset her? If he were, Katrina had been wrong earlier. Daniel wasn’t the Dom she’d seen Ali eyeing for the last few weeks. “She and Brandon prepped the club tonight.”
He nodded and took a drink of his whisky. “Something’s bothering her, but she wouldn’t tell me what. Did she say anything to you?”
“Daniel, you can’t make her tell you something she doesn’t want to.” Hopefully, he wouldn’t pick up on the fact that she hadn’t answered his question.
Katrina should have known better.
“So she did talk to you.” He appeared to be lost in thought for a few moments, and then he leaned in and met her gaze. “Do I need to have a conversation with someone?”
She guessed that answered her question. If Daniel had been the one to upset Ali, he wouldn’t be offering to address the situation with the other party. “No. You don’t. And I think you should let Ali handle it. If she wants your help, she’ll ask for it.”
“I just worry about her. Ali’s a good girl. I’d hate to see someone mistreat her.”
Katrina raised her eyebrows and stared back at him.
“What?” he asked.
She snorted, although she doubted he could hear her over the music. “If you’re so concerned about her, then why haven’t I seen you pursuing her?”
He took another swig of his drink—this one larger than the last. “Ali’s young enough to be my daughter.”
“But she’s not.”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“If you say so,” Katrina said.
Daniel shifted as he scanned the room. “What about you? When are you going to settle down? You certainly have enough suitors. Or you would if you showed them the least sign that you were interested.”
“Been there. Done that.” Even as she said it, Ryan came to mind, and she had the urge to look for him if only to confirm that he’d made it back to the club. She tried to tell herself that she was just being a good top. They’d played earlier, after all. It was her job to make sure he wasn’t experiencing any type of subdrop, but she knew that explanation was far from the truth.
He tilted his glass in her direction. “So have I. Remember that when you want to start playing matchmaker.”
A couple entered the club, and Katrina excused herself. She needed to put some distance between her and the current line of conversation, and Allison and John had been listed as references on Drew Parker’s application for membership. Although references weren’t required, they did help. It made the whole process go faster if another one of her members knew the applicant.
“Allison. John. How are you both tonight?”
“Ready to have some fun. This week has been stressful,” Allison answered.
“Nothing major, I hope.”
John wrapped his arm around Allison’s waist, offering his Domme comfort, as she responded. “My dad was admitted to the hospital Wednesday night. I spent most of Thursday helping my mom get things squared away.”
“Is it serious?” Katrina asked.
Allison rolled her eyes. “No. He fell off a ladder. Gave himself a nice bump on the head and broke his arm in two places. They just wanted to keep him overnight for observation, but then it was a matter of making sure Mom had what she needed at home to take care of him. This is one of those times when I’m glad I live an hour away. My dad is a bear when he’s sick. Listening to him complain about having to spend the night in the hospital was bad enough. I think I’d slowly lose my mind if I had to stay in the same house with him for any length of time when he’s like this.”
Katrina smiled sympathetically. “Why don’t you and John grab one of the rooms upstairs before things get too busy? You can release some of that stress.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Allison said.
They started to walk away before Katrina remembered her original reason for waylaying them. “Oh. I almost forgot. If you have a chance later, I wanted to speak with you both. Your names were listed as references on an application I received.”
“Drew?” John asked.
“Yes.”
Allison nodded. “We’ll come find you after our scene.”
For the next two hours, Katrina weaved her way through the club, catching up with various members. She’d made sure to avoid Ryan at all costs. He was a complication she didn’t need or want.
As she moved from group to group, she couldn’t help the surge of pride she felt. One of the things she loved about Serpent’s Kiss was that it had become much more than a place to play. Members came to hang out, relax, and be themselves without having to worry if their dynamic would bother those around them.
Around ten o’clock, Allison and Jeff approached her. “Let’s find somewhere quiet.”
She led them to a seating area near the front. Most of her patrons liked to stay toward the back near the dance floor and the stairs leading up to the play areas.
“You’re both looking much better,” Katrina said once they were all settled.
>
Allison and John were a very affectionate couple in general, but after a scene they were even more so. She was sitting on his lap, her head on his shoulder. Their hands were entwined together, resting in her lap. He was rubbing his thumb along the inside of her wrist as she nuzzled his neck with the tip of her nose. It was sweet and loving and. . . Katrina felt a pang of loss. She always made sure she gave the subs she played with aftercare, but once it was over, it was over. Anything else might get their hopes up.
Her husband hadn’t been a big cuddler, but there were moments when he’d give her a look or a touch and she’d melt. No man since had been able to do that to her—not that she’d given any of them a chance to try.
“Playing helped. It always does,” Allison said.
Katrina grinned. “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to get your opinion of Mr. Parker.”
John tore his gaze away from Allison to look at Katrina. “Drew’s a nice guy. He’s new to the lifestyle but very interested in learning.”
“His application says he’s a sub.”
Allison nodded. “He is. Although he’s never had a Domme or even played before. I’ve offered, but he said he doesn’t feel right about it.”
Interesting, Katrina thought. “How did you meet?”
“He came to a munch about two months ago, and we made him feel welcome, introduced him to some people,” John said.
“How well do you know him? Being new, does he understand the nature of the club and what goes on here?” Katrina asked.
“He and John have met a couple of times outside of the munches. Everything we’ve found out about him says he’s an honest guy. He’s a little lost when it comes to what he wants out of the lifestyle, but we were all there at one point,” Allison said.
Katrina wasn’t sure how she felt about Drew being so new to the lifestyle. If he’d never had a Domme—never played—then how sure was he that this was what he wanted? How would he react to seeing subs being spanked or flogged right in front of him?
It was difficult to say. Sometimes it took people time to adjust to seeing the dynamic unfiltered. Others took to it quickly. Everyone was different, and there was no guessing how any one person would react.
