by Desiree Holt
*****
Branch handed a drink to the man standing near him. Maximiliano “Max” Ferlita, his longtime best friend and attorney lowered himself into one of the deep armchairs in Branch’s big office and stretched out his feet to rest on the ottoman. All the guests had left, and now the cleanup crew was doing its thing. Branch knew he could have left, but he wasn’t yet ready to head back to his house, which had suddenly, for some strange reason, become too large for him.
“Good turnout today,” Max mused, sipping at the aged bourbon in his glass.
Branch nodded. “This is one of the few events I host that I actually enjoy.” He dropped into an armchair at an angle to Max’s and took a sip of his own drink. “Although sometimes I wonder what it would be like to go to a party where no one knew who I was.”
“Good luck with that. I’m not sure there’s a place like that anymore.” Max laughed. ”You ever think about what it was like in the beginning for us?”
“You mean back when we barely had a nickel between us and had to scrape for everything?” he asked.
Max nodded. “Yeah. Back then. You were working construction, sweating your ass off in the summer and freezing it in the winter.”
“And you”—Branch pointed at him—“were hacking it at a call center during the day and going to law school at night. How much fun was that?”
“About as much fun as what you were doing.” Max studied Branch. “Did you ever, even for a minute, ever think we’d be where we are today?”
Branch took a long swallow of his drink and thought about what Max said. “No. Well, yeah. Maybe. When I was so dog tired I couldn’t lift my arms and wondered why I wanted to get up and go to work the next day.”
“Yeah, same for me.” He grinned. “Then that construction company you were working for went bust and we had a chance to pick it up for pennies.”
“Literally.” Max laughed. “That was all we had. I still don’t know how we pulled it off.”
“And yet here we are today, with Colby, Inc. and Ferlita Associates. A mega corporation and an international law firm. Two punks off the streets.”
Max sobered. “I don’t think I can thank you quite enough for giving me a piece of Colby, Inc.”
“In the beginning, it was a piece of nothing,” Branch recalled. “We’ve been lucky. Besides, you earn it every day keeping my ass legal and putting up barricades against the bloodsuckers.”
They both raised their glasses in a silent toast and then drank.
“So.” Max grinned. “I saw the mayor’s publicity flack here today. His honor too tied up to make it?”
“I guarantee you, whatever conflict Vincent had he couldn’t get out of. He never misses a chance to suck my dick.”
“Personally, I’d rather have her doing it. Although that really isn’t her style.”
Branch lifted an eyebrow. He had gotten no vibes from Lee Sullivan that she preferred women to men, and he was usually very good at picking that up.
“Are you telling me she bats for the other team?”
Max burst out laughing. “Far from it. You just hang out in the wrong places.”
Now Branch was getting irritated. “Do you want to tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”
“I guess you spend too much of your playtime at Ultra. Or your own bedroom.” Max laughed again, as if enjoying some kind of secret joke. “Unlike me. I like variety.”
“So you’ve visited Infinity. So what?”
Yeah, so what? One of the many things that bound their friendship so tightly was the fact that, after a friend had taken them to a public dungeon in their twenties, they had both realized they had strong Dom tendencies they needed to pursue. They soon found, if they wanted to play, they had to take instruction, and what an experience that had been.
“Enough of this shit.” Branch leaned forward. “Whatever’s on your mind, spit it out.”
“You know how Ultra has its own celebrities, Doms and Dommes who everyone wants time with? Oh, wait.” He snapped his fingers. “Aren’t you one of them? Right! Master B. The subs line up for an hour of your time.”
“You are really pissing me off here, Max. What does this have to do with Lee Sullivan?”
“Infinity’s got its own celebrities, too, which you’d know if you ever got a guest pass like I did.”
“And?” Branch made a “come on” motion with his fingers.
“And I discovered when I visited there that the most in-demand Domme is Mistress Star.” Max leaned forward, watching his friend intently. “Who in real life is known as Lee Sullivan.”
Branch felt as if someone had taken a cattle prod to his balls. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Not a bit.” Max was obviously enjoying the reaction. He got up and went to the bar to refresh his drink. “I was given to understand that male submissives sign up well in advance to spend time with her.”
Branch frowned. “Was she there the night you were? Did she see you?”
“No.” Max shook his head. “I was in the lounge, in a corner with some friends, when she came in before a session.” He grinned. “She had a damn good-looking sub waiting for her. Anyway, I wanted to be sure I wasn’t mistaken, so I asked the friend I was with.”
“If it was her, you mean?”
“Uh huh. Because my friend knew I’d keep my mouth shut. Infinity is no different than Ultra. No one ever discusses anything outside those walls. Not who they saw or who did what with whom. You know very well there are people who live the lifestyle who make it known to anyone who asks them. Many of the couples even socialize outside the club, but you know the unwritten rule—what happens at the club stays at the club.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t do me any good to ask you to get me some details on her.”
Max shook his head. “You know better than that.”
“Damn.” Branch took another swallow of his drink. “I wonder if I should ask for a reciprocity pass for a couple of weeks.”
“Does that mean you’re going after her? Hell, Branch, you can have your pick of any woman you want.”
He lifted a shoulder. “It’s the ones who aren’t so ripe for the plucking that appeal to me.”
He sat back in his chair and idly shook his glass so the ice cubes tinkled. Lee Sullivan was a Domme? His cock hardened, and a slow ache generated in his balls. All kinds of images swirled in his mind. Lee in a corset, thigh-high boots with tall, skinny heels, hair a blonde cloud around her head, her lips painted a ruby red, and in her hand a coiled whip. Or handcuffs. Or a cock ring. Or—
He gave himself a mental shake. She definitely didn’t fit on his preferred menu. He liked his women spicy and inventive, but there was never any question about who was in control. It was always him. One hundred percent. As he thought about it, though, he felt a smile tease at his mouth. What a challenge it would be to bend her to his will. To make her submit. To—
“Whatever you’re thinking about,” Max said, sitting down again, “you can just forget it. Not happening, I can promise you that.”
“Everyone has a trigger,” Branch pointed out. “You just have to find it.” He stared at his friend. “Just out of curiosity, have you ever, you know….”
“Played with Mistress Star?” Max grinned at him. “I’m tempted to say yes just to yank your chain, but no. Submission isn’t my style. Any more than it’s yours, if I may say so.”
“But I’ll bet I can make it hers, though.” Anticipation made his cock stir.
“It will never happen. No way.” Max shook his head. “No. Fucking. Way.”
“Yes, way. Are you saying I’m not up to the challenge?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am. No one is. She’s a legend at Infinity.”
“You want to make that bet official?” Branch asked.
Max frowned. “What did you have in mind?”
“One night. That’s it. I get her to willingly submit to me for one night, and I win. Is it a bet?”
Max looked at hi
m for a long time. “You know, one of these days one of your bets is going to get you into trouble.”
Branch leaned back in his chair and eyed his friend. “You think so? I don’t. Adds a little spice to my life.”
Max frowned. “Do you hear yourself? Spice in your life? Betting on something like this? When did you get so jaded? Don’t you think it’s time to settle down? We aren’t kids anymore, you know.”
“You first,” Branch told him.
Max gave him a quizzical look. “Don’t you ever get tired of all the phonies hanging on your arm? Don’t you ever want something a lot more?”
“I gave up expecting that a long time ago.” He couldn’t conceal the bitterness that crept into his voice. He knew exactly why the women he dated spent time with him. They used each other—he used them for sex and they used him for the high public profile that went along with being his companion. Not an honest emotion between them.
“Maybe that’s what makes me different than you. I still think it’s out there. I look for the connection, and you look for the challenge.”
“Maybe that’s what turns me on.”
And that’s the way Branch liked it. Neat and tidy, no messy emotions.
He hated to think Max was right. Jaded? Was he really? It was difficult to admit to himself that Max might be right. And he hated to think he was turning into an object of criticism for his friend.
He didn’t want to admit it, but Max’s words hit a little too close to home. He’d spent all these years working his ass off and had built a business that had garnered him an international reputation. He was cautious in his relationships, aware that his money and his power were infinitely appealing to so many women. He’d learned long ago to guard himself emotionally, to the point where now he wondered if he was meant to be single forever, but lately he’d realized something vital was missing from his life. Something not even Ultra seemed to fill lately.
He just didn’t know what.
He took another slug of his drink and tamped down his unpleasant thoughts.
“I’m fine, Max. Since when do you object to our little wagers, anyway?”
Max shrugged. “Maybe since I took a look at us and wondered if we’ve turned into overgrown frat boys. We both just turned forty. One of these days you’ll meet a woman who pushes all your buttons. Then your little habit—okay, our little habit—is going to come back and haunt you.”
For a moment, he was tempted to tell Max to forget the whole thing, but he liked a challenge. And Lee Sullivan, so cool, so self-possessed, impressed him as just that.
“I think you’re depressing me,” he said. “Are you in or not?”
Max hesitated a moment then nodded. “In, but let’s make it for something worthwhile because I’ll enjoy scoring it off you.”
Branch nodded. “You name it, then.”
Max studied his ice cubes for a moment. “Okay. A hundred grand. Let’s make it payable to the charity of the winner’s choice. I’ll feel better about it.”
Branch thought for a moment. The money wasn’t a lot to either of them, not these days. And they could do something worthwhile with it, so a bonus.
“You’re on.”
“We need a time limit, though,” Max told him. “I don’t plan to let you drag this out forever.”
“Time limit.” Branch nodded. “Fine. One month.”
“You may need more than that,” Max cautioned. “This is not going to be as easy as you think.”
“Is that so? How about doubling down if I do it in less?” Branch teased.
“God, you are a cocky bastard. Okay, less than a month and we double down.” Max chuckled. “I’ll give you this. You’ve got balls if you think you can get Mistress Star on her knees inside of one month. I’ll take that bet.” He rubbed his hands. “And start looking to see where I think the money will do the most good.”
Branch slugged down the rest of his drink. If Lee Sullivan didn’t call him by Tuesday, he’d contact her. He planned to come out on top here. In more than one way.
Only—
Only why did he suddenly feel as if he might be making a huge mistake here?
Chapter Two
When Lee pulled into the parking lot at Infinity, she noticed how full it was for a weekday evening. She hoped one of her favorite submissives would be there. She’d been so antsy since the Colby picnic; she needed something to work off her excess sexual energy. Entering the building that housed the club, she nodded to the tuxedoed bouncer at the door, smiled, and then headed for the changing room. Lockers lined one wall, and, across from them, individual cubicles gave members privacy while they morphed from their public self to their dungeon persona. Lee chose to dress at home except on very rare occasions, so she simply hung her long coat in one of the lockers along with her keys and the little mini-purse she carried for makeup and money. In the women’s vanity area, she took a last look in the mirror to make sure she was put together. Satisfied, she strode confidently toward the main room of the club.
Nearly every seat was taken at the small tables, the sofas, and the big chairs. The hum of conversation was muted as people spoke in low tones. Alcohol was not served at the club, but glasses of soft drinks or ice water sat on the low tables along with coffee cups.
“Good evening, Mistress.”
John Francona, the owner of the club, was leaning against the curved half wall at the entrance to the lounge, dressed in his usual gray silk shirt and black silk slacks. Lee had always thought the man, with his long dark hair and hint of dark beard on his square jaw, looked like a modern version of The Shadow. He was, however, the most knowledgeable person she had ever met in the community, ran the club according to strict rules, and knew how to handle the members. He also kept the membership to what he believed a workable number, which meant there was always a waiting list.
She nodded at him now as she stood surveying the crowd. She noted some couples she was friendly with making a midweek visit. A few of them were in various stages of undress, a common occurrence at Infinity. Doms and Dommes often took the opportunity to show off their sub’s assets, a silent acknowledgment of ownership and submission. Others were engaged in quiet conversation, possibly discussing the evening’s opportunities.
Lee drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. This was the moment when the electricity always buzzed through her body, making her nerve endings snap and her pulse kick into a staccato beat. The hunger for a naked male body, bent to her bidding, craving the pleasure of the pain she inflicted, actually made her mouth dry.
She had spent a tense few days since the picnic, unable to wash the image of Branch Colby from her mind. And how exasperating was that? Even though there were alpha males who found sexual satisfaction as submissives, she would bet money he was not one of them. She could still see him as he’d been at the event, outlined by the sun like some golden god. Sun-shot hair cut close and lying perfectly on his nape, broad shoulders and flat abs defined by the soft material of his polo shirt, long legs encased in denim moving smoothly as he strode about the grounds. She could imagine women tracing every line of his body with their fingertips, caressing that tanned skin, running their fingers through his razor-cut hair. When he had sat down at the picnic table with her and rested his arms on the wood, she had seen the play of sculpted muscles in his arms. The impact of his presence had been like an actual physical touch to her body.
If she had been a different type of woman, another type of person sexually, she might want to see what he was like beneath that image he presented to the world. The problem with that was she had seen other couples who had this kind of attraction to each other, both Dominants, struggle to find a common ground. It usually ended badly. It would for her, certainly. She had no inner sub craving to be released. She’d already tested that before with disastrous results.
No, if she and Branch Colby moved beyond being business acquaintances, they would both end up flaming out. She certainly didn’t need that. What she needed, tonight as a matter
of fact, was one of her most alpha subs who battled her for control even as they gave it up to her. Always willingly, but always making her work for it. Yes, that was exactly what would do her the most good.
“Busy for a week night.”
One corner of John’s mouth hitched in a half-smile. “Seems the membership has a lot of energy to work off on Hump Day.” He chuckled. “If you’ll pardon the pun. Should I assume that applies to you, also?”
Yes, it definitely does.
She’d been buzzed since the Colby picnic, almost as if she’d been drinking fine wine, yet every one of her senses was incredibly alert. The worst part was she refused to admit to herself why. Branch Colby had pushed her buttons, and tonight she needed a sub ready for a good workout. She looked over the room slowly, taking in the people gathered there, looking to see if she might recognize someone who particularly appealed to her.
“Drew is here tonight.” John nodded in the direction of a conversation group. “I didn’t mention that you’d called to reserve your usual room in case you had other intentions.”
Lee shifted her gaze, and yes, there he was, her tall pro athlete with the white-blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Whoever would have thought that such a macho specimen would crave the role of submissive? Yet the first time she’d met him, talked to him, he had explained that it was almost a relief for him to be able to bend to someone else’s will for a change. Until he’d tried it the first time, he hadn’t understood the enormous sexual satisfaction of serving a Mistress. Now he was a regular at Infinity, a place where everyone’s identity was as closely guarded as they requested. One thing he knew both members and guests could count on at this dungeon—the lack of idle gossip.
“Thank you.” She smiled at John. “I believe I’ll wander over that way.”
As she approached the small group, Drew spotted her and rose at once to his feet. He wore a loose shirt and leather pants, the material soft and supple enough that she could see the thick outline of his cock beneath it. His eyes lit up when he saw her, although he kept his face impassive. Some who came here—she called them indiscriminate bottoms— would obey the wishes of any Mistress who plucked them for an evening’s enjoyment. Not Drew, though. He was one of those special subs who lived to serve a very small selection of Mistresses. That made the satisfaction in their play so much more intense and enjoyable. Yes, he was just what she needed tonight.
