“I didn’t—” Leduc’s gaze ran over her again more slowly. “Might you be Logan’s Mallory?”
“Logan’s?” Sawyer turned to look at her.
“Becca and Logan arranged for me to be allowed in here, yes.”
The other man let out a laugh and slapped Leduc’s shoulder. “Memory—it’s the first thing to go.” He turned to her. “I’m Simon, and this is Xavier, who owns Dark Haven.”
The owner? Nice, Becca. You might have mentioned that.
Xavier was still frowning, although his aura had lightened. “Did Dixon not ask you to wait for me in the reception area?”
Uh-oh. “Yes. But…I didn’t want to impose on your time.” Or to be forced to talk with a stranger here.
“Independent submissives, the bane of our existence,” Simon murmured.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Xavier held out his hand. “In that case, welcome to Dark Haven, Mallory.” Xavier’s smile revealed sharp fangs, his only apparent concession to a costume. On him, the fangs were intimidating rather than looking foolish. This man could make her believe in a thousand-year-old vampire aristocracy. When she took his hand, he held it for a moment. “Unfortunately, imposition or not, I can’t let a novice wander around Dark Haven without an escort.”
“But there are options as to who serves as your escort.” The corners of Simon’s dark eyes crinkled. “I’m willing to help. Or…Sawyer, you’re an experienced Dom and had the grand tour earlier. Would you care to show Mallory around?”
Arm still around her waist, Sawyer looked down at her. Today, his gaze wasn’t indifferent. Today, his gaze held…affection. Amusement. And enough hunger to send heat through her, starting at her toes right up to her hair. “Little contractor, who do you want for an escort?”
She swallowed. Hadn’t she told herself she would stay away from him? Not leave herself open to any more damage? And yet…and yet…she couldn’t deny her own desire to be with him.
This wasn’t all lust—her feelings went deep. A newly-planted sapling didn’t expend energy on showy leaf growth but would extend its roots down and down to anchor itself deep in the earth.
Lust held no roots. Love…did. Oh, this wasn’t good.
As Sawyer bent over her, their auras mingled in a beautiful swirl of colors. “Mallory?”
“You. If you don’t mind?”
His smile was slow and unexpected. “We’ll take all the time you need.” He glanced at Xavier. “You good with this?”
“Yes and no.” Xavier’s gaze was reserved. “Return her to me when you’re finished with the tour. If you decide to play, one of our staff will be nearby to monitor.” A smile curved his lips slightly. “I’d prefer Logan not feel that I let him down.”
“Sounds fair.” Sawyer took her hand in his big warm one.
Mallory hesitated and tilted her head toward Simon. “Might I ask what mythical creature you are?”
Xavier actually laughed.
“Of course, pet.” Simon had a delightful smile. “Xavier bet me that I couldn’t outclass him.”
Mallory frowned. Simon’s contemporary black suit was lovely, however, not nearly as marvelous as Xavier’s nineteenth-century attire. “And…?”
“I’m God.”
Just listen to her, Sawyer thought. Mallory’s clear, melodic laughter was open and honest and fucking beautiful, and both of the Dark Haven Doms smiled in appreciation.
Dammit, he’d missed hearing her laugh—and he shouldn’t have his arm around her. Regrettably, the surprise of seeing her and realizing she was frightened had drawn him right across the room. Despite his plan to stay away from her, here he was.
Here, he wanted to stay.
“Enjoy yourself, Mallory,” Xavier said. “When Sawyer brings you back, I’ll introduce you to my Abby.”
As the two Doms walked away, Mallory whispered, “Is his Abby a church or a person?”
“His wife—a college professor. Simon is married to Rona, a hospital administrator. Both will be here later.” Needing to touch her, he caressed the sweet curve of her cheek, then guided her out into the room. “I had dinner with them earlier. I think you’ll like them.”
As he led her past the left stage, she gasped and stopped.
To one side was a rack of edged weapons and tools, ranging from a fillet knife to a field scythe. The Top was drawing the edge of a butcher knife down a woman’s bared back, creating a thin red line. Similar lines covered her skin from shoulders to ass. Edge play with an edge.
Sawyer smiled. From Mallory’s appalled expression, this would never be her kink.
With an obvious effort, she pulled her gaze away. “You’re a member of Dark Haven?”
“Just visiting since I’m in town.” She didn’t need to know what had brought him to San Francisco. “Atticus knows Simon, so Simon invited me.”
“Oh. Is this place like other…uh…BDSM clubs?”
Fuck, those wide eyes were delightful. He tilted her chin up to give her a hard kiss and inhaled her clean fragrance. Could a person miss a scent? Face it, he’d missed everything about her. “Bigger than a lot of them. Nice layout, too.”
The top floor had the two stages with seating in the center to watch the action. The far wall held a bar, which had rules about no playing after drinking.
Next to the bar was a crowded dance floor. Sawyer watched a row of unicorns doing an improvised line dance. Pony play, mythological style.
“Hmm.” Mallory motioned to the tables and chairs scattered between the stages. “Can we sit so I can regroup? Right now, I feel like a prey animal.”
He grinned as he realized what she meant. On a normal night, a pretty woman in a BDSM club might well feel targeted by single Doms. Tonight, though, the submissives had come as cute mythological creatures—pixies, fairies, and elves. In contrast, the Dominants were predatory monsters—goblins, werewolves, and vampires. The difference lent an edgy, ominous feel to the club atmosphere.
“Sitting sounds fine, pet.”
As he seated her, she tilted her head. “You’re wearing an interesting costume.”
“Simon and deVries—another of Att’s friends—rounded up the outfit.” He was shirtless and wearing his own black boots. The dark brown, fur-covered pants—complete with a long tail—were courtesy of Simon. Thank fuck the tail wasn’t so long he was tripping on it. His ears were pointy, and he had large horns spiraling back. Since he always had a dark five o’clock shadow, by shaving his upper lip, he’d achieved a nicely animalistic appearance.
“A satyr, right?” She laughed. “A lusty Greek god?”
“You did your homework, didn’t you?” And she’d come as a…a what?
She was barefoot. Her just-past-butt-length green dress was loose and nearly transparent. Makeup made her big eyes even larger, and leafy vine tattoos ran up her cheeks and over her forehead. The sides of her rich chocolate brown hair were pulled up and braided with leaves and flowers. The rest of her hair was loose, hanging freely to mid-back. “Elf?”
“Close. Woodland nymph.”
“That fits.” Clever girl to pick a costume that matched her quiet, woodsy personality. Loud and gaudy wouldn’t have suited her.
Leaning back, he extended his legs and studied her. The more he knew her, the more she drew him in. She had a service submissive’s need to give, yet was strong enough that her personality wouldn’t disappear under a Dominant’s. She’d expect balance in a relationship. If upset, she’d probably walk away until her anger was under control—and then expect to talk over the problem.
They hadn’t talked.
Her gaze was on him, rather than the surroundings. “What’s wrong, Sawyer?”
She was damn perceptive, wasn’t she? He gave her the unpalatable truth. “Twice now, I’ve planned to stay away from you, and here I am. Again.”
“It’s a pattern, all right.” She blew out a breath. “You said you don’t do relationships. Can you share with me why?” Leaning forward, she covered his hands with he
rs.
Her ability to touch people, not in a sexual way, but human to human, simply awed him.
How much could he tell her? Unable to help himself, he gathered her hands in his. Although she had small, delicate fingers, her palms had the calluses of a hard-working person. Why did he have to like that so much? “I’ve been in prison, pet. Been in the military.”
“I know. Do you think your past matters to me?”
“Actually”—he squeezed her hands—“I know it doesn’t. However, my present is the problem. I’ve been—” He shut his mouth, realizing he’d almost blurted out everything. Jesus, he hadn’t even told Atticus of his night patrols. Nonetheless, under her clear, green gaze, he wanted to unload. Wanted to talk about his worries, his fears, get her opinion.
Don’t do it, Ware.
“I’m involved in things that aren’t exactly…peaceful.” Yes, peaceful was a good word.
Frowning, she looked down and pulled his hand closer.
Hell. He still had bruises from punching the assholes at the veterinary clinic.
Alarm filled her eyes. “Did those gangsters who hate you come after you?”
“More the reverse.” Dammit, his mouth needed a lock on it.
“Reverse as in…you went after them?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Why n—”
“Don’t you blow this off as if it’s funny.” Her glare held a sting.
“You’re right. It’s not funny.” He wanted to share so badly, he had to edit his words more carefully than normal. “Mallory, if I see someone doing something illegal”—like breaking and entering or stealing or dealing—“I can’t stand by and do nothing.”
Her face softened. “But why would you stay away from me because you’re helping people?”
“You don’t like violence, nymph. It bothers you.”
“Yes. But violence is part of our world. I honor you for defending those weaker than you.” The look in her eyes said she liked who he was—and seeing her admiration shook him to the depths.
When she held his battered, war-scarred hand against her silken cheek, he had no words. The room faded in the warmth of her presence, like the glow of moonlight on a night sea.
Maybe…maybe he didn’t have to stay away from her. The gang was down to its last few men. There was no way the Hammers could remain in Bear Flat, not when their members kept getting arrested. It was almost over.
He could have a life. Could have her. Hope rose inside him, filling him as he stared at her.
A tenor voice broke into their conversation. “Sweetcheeks, you disappeared on me.”
Mallory looked around and smiled. “Dixon. Are you off duty now?”
The young man from the reception desk frowned at Mallory. “You were supposed to wait for My Liege.”
“Who?”
Sawyer provided, “My Liege is what the submissives call Xavier.”
“Oh.” Mallory smiled. “Don’t worry, Dixon. I found him.”
“Is that what happened?” Sawyer asked with a grin.
She kicked him under the table, making him laugh.
A goblin clapped a hand on Dixon’s shoulder, and the young submissive looked at the man with a rueful grin. “Sorry, Sir.”
“You will be, boy. You will be.” The goblin’s Texas accent held a distinct threat.
Sawyer stiffened, then relaxed at the amusement and affection in the Dom’s eyes. Dixon wasn’t in trouble.
Dixon’s Dom held out his hand to Sawyer. “Stan.”
“Sawyer.” The handshake he received was firm and carefully controlled. Yeah, the boy would be fine.
“You know, guys, I don’t understand the huge need to have an escort.” Mallory waved her hand airily. “There’s nothing frightening here. I’ve seen more skin at a Chippendale’s show.”
When Dixon and Stan stared at her in disbelief, Sawyer broke out laughing. “I haven’t taken her downstairs yet.”
“Oooh.” Dixon snickered. “You’re so going to eat your words, girlfriend. Come and find me after you’ve had the whole tour.” He turned to Stan. “I’m ready, Master.”
“Good enough.” With a smile, Stan said to Sawyer, “Sorry for the interruption. Dixon is difficult to stop when he gets a burr under his saddle.”
Under his breath, Dixon made a “pffft” sound.
Gripping Dixon’s nape hard enough the impertinent pup squeaked, Stan removed a cane from the clip on his belt and pulled the young man away.
As the two headed toward the stairs to the dungeon, Sawyer nodded. Someone was going to get the walloping he quite obviously wanted.
Taking Mallory’s hand, Sawyer rose. “Time to show you the rest of Dark Haven.”
A glimmer of worry appeared in her eyes as she let him pull her to her feet. “All right. I’m game.”
That she was. It was intriguing she’d come to a BDSM club on her own. He knew she’d liked their night together, but to show up here? She wanted more.
Fuck, he wanted to give her more.
As they went down the stairs, the music changed from sexy dance music to the flogging-inducing beat of Joachim Witt. Undoubtedly, European-educated Xavier enjoyed the German lyrics.
The dimly lit dungeon filled the entire downstairs. Several scene areas were spotlighted, others left in the murk. Nice. Depending on their taste and their plans, some Tops preferred a dark atmosphere, and some wanted to see the blood they spilled. To each his own.
The nymph came to a halt, and Sawyer grinned. “There’s a tad more skin exposed down here, isn’t there?”
Her eyes were wide. “I thought I knew what I’d see; I had no idea.”
Taking her hand, Sawyer pulled her close and let her look. Even small dungeons were overwhelming the first time, and Dark Haven had a huge room with ample equipment. All the X-shaped St. Andrew’s crosses were being used. Submissives of all sexes were strapped to the various spanking benches and bent over in stocks. The far end was roped off for single-tails and longer floggers. “Let’s walk around. Stop me if you see something you like.”
He might know before she did, since he intended to keep a very close eye on her. Smiling, he guided her toward the rear, past the long line of scenes. They passed a woman on a cross who was crying, begging, and trying to escape the Top’s flogger.
Turning, Mallory buried her face against Sawyer’s shoulder.
“Easy, pet.” He glanced at the scene and had to conceal his own flinch. “Remember the submissive has a safe word.”
Mallory looked up at him, worry in her eyes. “Do you honestly like this stuff?”
“Ah, baby. This stuff has a wide range of options.” He considered, then sighed. Honesty was required between a Dom and sub—or even between a casual Top and bottom. “Because my stepfather abused my mother, I tend to be uncomfortable with heavy impact play.”
“Impact?”
“Just what it sounds like. Spanking, slapping, punching, flogging, whipping, caning…”
She shuddered. “I think we can agree to avoid impact play.”
Probably. Even so, there was a wide range between light and heavy. He’d have to give her a taste, since newbies had rarely experienced the effect a little pain could have on pleasure.
He smiled when she stopped at a scene where a woman was strapped down on a bondage table. The Mistress was still restraining her submissive, so the bondage was what had caught Mallory’s attention.
As they wandered the room, every bondage scene got a long look. Wax play was a maybe. Oddly enough, the one suspension scene didn’t appeal to her. Or the cages. She sped up to pass the impact play scenes. Sensual play got second glances. Gags…hmm.
He motioned toward a female submissive wearing a basic ball-gag. “Should I use a gag on you?”
Mallory took a step back…and flushed. In a husky voice, she protested, “I…I don’t think so.” Aroused, but scared.
Hmm. Not tonight. Hopefully, there would be other nights. He smiled at her.
When Sawyer s
miled with such absorbed calculation in his dark blue eyes, Mallory’s heart turned over inside her chest, and her insides went molten. Oh, what he could do to her with just a look. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”
His fingers brushed down her cheek. “Don’t worry, little subbie. We won’t play with gags this time.”
This time. He hadn’t put any emphasis on the words.
He didn’t have to.
She tried to feel relieved he wasn’t planning anything scary tonight.
He wasn’t, was he?
“Sawyer, I believe?” The man who approached was probably around forty. Tall, leanly muscular, with aristocratic features. His wavy brown hair was swept back, his brown mustache neatly trimmed. And he was dressed as…hmm, Thor? Weren’t all the Doms supposed to be bad guys? So was this man submissive in spite of the authority he carried?
Almost matching his eyes, the predominant color in his aura was an unusual turquoise indicating he was an organized person, dynamic and influential. But the muddy brown and gray showed he’d suffered in the past and hadn’t worked through the issue.
“I’m Sawyer.” Sawyer pulled her closer and gave the man a once-over. “You’re dressed as Thor?”
“Actually, his evil brother, Loki.” The man gave a slight bow. “Or Ethan works.”
After the men shook hands, Ethan held up a leather bag. “Simon and Xavier were asked to assist with a scene and drafted me to find you. You have Xavier’s permission to play if you wish. Simon had a toy bag filled for you.”
“Simon read me well, didn’t he?” Sawyer looked down. “Mallory? Want to participate rather than observe?”
“I…don’t know.” Play? Mallory glanced at the scene to the left where a woman—a Mistress?—was flogging a burly older man so hard that tiny drops of blood had appeared. Anxiety shivered through her. That wasn’t what she considered fun.
He glanced at the nearby scene, and his gaze softened. “Nymph, I wouldn’t do that, even if you wanted me to.”
“Oh.” Her shoulder muscles started to unknot. “But we’d…play…in front of people?”
“Yes, in public, although we can find a quieter corner.” A corner of his mouth turned up. “If we’re here, you won’t have to call your friend to check in. Being in public means not worrying about the Dom turning into a serial killer.”
Master of Solitude (Mountain Masters & Dark Haven Book 8) Page 15
