For Sir

by Rachell Nichole

  For Sir

  The K Club, Volume 1

  Rachell Nichole

  Published by Rachell Nichole, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  FOR SIR

  First edition. October 16, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Rachell Nichole.

  Written by Rachell Nichole.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  To Sir Excerpt

  Also by Rachell Nichole

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “Three thousand dollars.” The voice was gruff, sure, and coming from a Dominant in the bank of seats to the left of the stage. Syneca Madison Lexington couldn’t help the small twinge in the back of her mind at the offer.

  Wow. When Dusty had approached her about this fundraiser, she’d thought what the hell? Little had she known that a submissive auction would raise this kind of capital. A submission auction. She still couldn’t quite believe she’d agreed to this.

  Don’t be such a prude. She admonished herself. Why, after all these years, did she still have to fight against the bullshit notions of her upbringing? She was bisexual, for fuck’s sake. So why did she have to push herself to accept BDSM as just another form of sexual expression?

  “Going once? Going twice?” Dusty called from the microphone podium at the stage. As part-owner of the club, and a submissive himself, Dusty made the perfect emcee for tonight. He’d been one of the first LGBT kids she’d helped when she first stared out, too, so the foundation’s future meant as much to him as it did to her. Maybe even more.

  Syneca could see the full first floor of the K Club from her vantage point on the side of the stage, and the place was hopping. The K Club’s annual Fetish Ball drew quite a crowd. Men and women crowded the main area, many holding bidder paddles. How had she let him talk her into this again? Oh, yeah, because the Madison Foundation was running out of money. And fast. She sighed and surveyed the crowd.

  When no other paddles were raised, Dusty said, “Sold to Sir Clayton. Thank you, Amber.”

  She couldn’t help but smile as Dusty commanded the stage. She loved seeing how successful and happy her kids were as adults. Not only had he found himself the perfect job, but she was pretty sure the new man he was seeing might be the one. She’d told him so last week as they were finalizing plans for tonight.

  The idea of being auctioned off to the highest bidder still kind of made Syneca’s skin crawl. How could it not, especially after her parents had practically done exactly that to her as a kid? But after Dusty explained to her just how much it played into certain fantasies of D/s relationships, she’d realized just how prejudiced she was being.

  The small smile playing at Amber’s lips as she passed by and was led down the two stairs and directly to the man who had bid on her, made Syneca remember she shouldn’t judge, even if she didn’t quite get it. She’d spent large portions of her life fighting against closed-minded bullshit. How could she have wanted to do the same thing to the kink community, just because it personally freaked her out a little bit?

  She continued to watch the auction from the sidelines, letting the soft pulse of music in the background surround her. There were four submissives left. Three females and one male. The first six, two of them males, had already raised her eleven thousand dollars! That would allow her to make payroll for another three months, and make some of the repairs needed at her center.

  As she looked out into the main floor of the K Club, with its polished black concrete floors, and ambient lighting, she noticed how the submissives sat beside or at the feet of the Dominants who had “purchased” them. Each face held a mixture of calm, anticipation, and pleasure. These men and women were clearly eager to play with the Dom or Domme who had chosen them. This helped settle her nerves a bit more.

  Dusty hadn’t been kidding when he said that the members here liked to have a good time and would jump at the chance to help her raise money for such a good cause. As the next submissive was walked around the stage, Dusty listed out the woman’s deepest fantasies to a room full of people like it was nothing.

  “Melinda likes impact play, and serving a sensuous Dom. She craves a firm hand, and considers herself to be a little. Melinda is looking for a Daddy Dom, for tonight, and hopefully beyond.”

  What would your profile say? That little voice in the back of her mind just wouldn’t shut up tonight. Syneca had imagined, for the tiniest second, what it might be like to be one of the people auctioned off tonight. And she maybe hated herself a little bit for it. What harm was it to imagine, though? She knew the reality of it would make her miserable. She’d never be satisfied with that kind of lack of freedom. She could practically hear Dusty’s voice listing her attributes, or lack thereof: Forty-year-old bisexual with a savior complex seeks Dom/me with heart of gold and deep pockets who isn’t afraid of powerful women with old money classism upbringings.

  She snickered. Yeah. That would go over well. As she watched, she heard something behind her. She started to turn, but the voice behind her made her freeze.

  “And how much for you?”

  She shivered.

  She didn’t respond at first, because the tight warmth of her skin at the back of her neck stole her breath. She would know that voice anywhere.

  “I -I’m sorry I'm not... for sale.” Her words were a mere whisper. She cleared her throat, and then continued with some force behind her words: “Besides, you couldn’t afford me anyway.”

  Still, she refused to turn. She focused on the next submissive on the stage, a young man wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. She supposed that in any other context the lack of clothing would bother her. But here, it seemed normal, and she knew it was more that she felt she should be bothered by it and less that she actually was bothered by the partial nudity all around her.

  He chuckled. “I don’t know about that. Might have been true before. These days, though...”

  What the fuck was he implying? Syneca spun, and her heart thundered as she stared into those deep green eyes. Jensen Elmwood.

  He was grinning at her, his head cocked just slightly to the side as he watched her. “I didn’t mean your price tag had diminished, just to be clear. Since you obviously still have that Madison Lexington stare down pat.”

  Jensen had aged well, and while he still looked too young for her, his round baby face had turned into the harder angles of a man’s more rugged features. He was shorter than most guys, which put them exactly at eye level. As she stared into those eyes, just inches from hers, she couldn’t believe the way her pulse pounded even after all these years. He’d been barely out of his teens the last time she saw him. Now, he was all man.

  “So you’ve come to... what? Drag me back home by my hair for your family?” She made sure her glare stayed in place. But damn if that phrase didn’t make her insides liquefy, just a little bit. Would there ever be a time when her intended betrothed’s little brother wouldn’t make her heart do somersaults? They weren’t kids any more, damn it.

  “Well, not exactly. Actually, I’d been looking forward to finding a new submissive to share an evening with at tonight’s auction. And then, there you were, off to the side of the stage, but not really concealed. Waiting in the wings to come out, and I knew I would outbid anyone in the room for the chance to talk to you. But as I can now see, you have no intention of being auctioned off to the highest bidder.”

  “Obviously.” Even she could hear the dry stab of sarcasm in her voice.

  “Though, of course, I already won that a
uction now that Jackson’s off the market.”

  Damn him for implying that because her engagement to his brother could officially never come to fruition that she would naturally just go to the next Elmwood in line. Gone was the sweet slightly rebellious teen she’d always confided in. In his place was a hard man. How had he grown up into just as much of a jackass as his entitled brother?

  He held up his hands, his grin slipping, the dimple in his left cheek disappearing. “Sorry, that was a bad fucking joke. But it was, in fact, a joke. You know I don’t put any stock in that crap our parents have been peddling since we were in grade school. He shook his head and his green eyes lost some of their charming sparkle.

  “When you were in grade school, you mean.” She felt compelled to remind them of their age difference. Even now.

  He let out a soft chuckle and the entire Club faded away around her. There was only Jenson. And her.

  “Four years may have made a big difference then, Syn, but it isn’t now.” His voice was firm. He’d been away at his Freshman year of college when she’d left the scandal of a broken engagement in New York and moved to the West Coast. She hadn’t even said goodbye to him. Back then, four years had seemed like a chasm. Not to mention that she’d been promised to Jackson.

  Promised. Like it was 1590 and the Madison Lexington clan was merging with the Benson clan in a land deal or peace treaty and it was her body that would be the bargaining chip. She couldn’t stop the bitter anger from burning through her anew.

  “I was trying to lighten the mood,” he said when she remained silent.

  “Aren’t you always?” she countered. Jensen had perpetually been the life of the party. So unlike his older brother. It was probably one of the reasons she’d been so drawn to him. Because he was the opposite of what she was supposed to want.

  He shrugged, and those green eyes turned intense. “Jackson got married years ago. You could have come home.”

  “Haven’t you heard? I went off and started dating girls when I moved to California.”

  He leaned closer, just an inch, and a jolt went through her, her body noticeably jerking.

  “Still not only interested in girls, though, I see.” His voice deepened. Gone was the goofy boy she’d known, replaced by a serious, dark man.

  She wasn’t going to rise to the bait of that one. It wouldn’t do to let him know just how drawn to him she still felt. “You really didn’t come out here for me? You honestly just happened to be in the same city, in the same club?”

  “In all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, I walked into yours, huh?” He shrugged, as if the coincidence was easy to shake away, and he hadn’t just quoted one of the films they’d watched on repeat during movie nights. “I did come out here for you, once. Right after you left. I tried to track you down, but... well...”

  “I didn’t want to be found.” He’d come all the way out to California to try to find her. To what? Tell her he loved her? They’d never had more than a few stolen kisses back then. He’d been her only respite from the stringent upbringing in the Madison Lexington household. For a few years, Jackson had even helped them spend time together. She’d lie and say she was going on a date with Jackson, and spend the entire night hanging out with her best friend instead, while his older brother was off on a real date. It was only after the engagement that Jackson had suddenly developed an issue over her relationship with his little brother. Like she was going to be his property when they married and it wasn’t acceptable to hang out with Jensen any longer.

  “Right. So, after a while, I gave up, and went back to school.” Jensen’s voice pulled her back to the present. She wasn’t twenty-two anymore, damn it. She was a successful CEO of a non-profit organization that helped house LGBTQ+ youth who had been kicked out of or run away from their homes just for being who they were. She wasn’t going to allow herself to get pulled into the past.

  “And how did you end up in Nevada?” she found herself asking. She should tell Jensen good night. While so much of her missed who they had once been to each other, his presence in her life just screwed with her head. He brought with him all the baggage of her past she was fighting to leave behind.

  Another broody shrug. Somehow, Jensen had missed the moody teenage years. Yet now they seemed to have caught up with him. She didn’t know what to think of that. But there was something just a little bit sexy about this darker side to him. Maybe it was the fact that they were in the K Club. Or it was the dim lights. Or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that during the past few weeks she’d started to learn more about this world of kink, and wondered if maybe - just maybe - it might be for her. Maybe now she wanted to see something like a dominant side of this Jensen that stood here before her. Maybe she was imagining it.

  “And now, please let’s all give a warm welcome to Ms. Madison Lexington, who runs the foundation that saved my life,” Dusty announced.

  Jensen glanced behind her to the rest of the stage. “Guess that’s your cue, huh?”

  She nodded.

  “Go. But... will you see me, after?”

  Jenson watched her nose crinkle as she debated her answer. Finally, she nodded, and the vice around his gut lessened. She turned and flicked her bright red hair over her shoulder, then strode across the stage to Dusty.

  As she stood in the spotlight, he couldn’t help but notice all the ways she shone in the light. Her hair, the slight sheen of the navy blue dress she wore, her bright blue eyes, and that dazzling smile. Looking up to the stage and seeing her had been like getting hit with Thor’s hammer. He hadn’t been able to breathe for a full minute. Of all the places, he’d never expected to see a Madison Lexington here.

  He’d spent most of his adult life trying to get away from his family, from the world he and Syn had grown up in. He’d always thought he was running away from that life, but maybe what he’d been doing was actually running toward something... her.

  Now that he had seen her again, it was like his whole world had flipped on its head. Foolish, probably. He had no idea if she was involved with someone. If she wanted anything to do with him. He certainly had no claim to her. Sure, Jackson had gotten married, and if their parents had their way, they would have just put Jensen in line next for her hand, but he wasn’t going to let that influence him. He and Syneca had missed any real chance of being together.

  Like Fate had always been conspiring against them. Yet now here it was, putting them back into each other’s paths. He wasn’t going to squander what might be their last hope. As he listened to her talk a bit about the foundation she’d started, he couldn’t be surprised. Impressed, of course, but not surprised. It was natural for her to have built something so amazing. Something close to her heart. Her bisexuality hadn’t been news to him. But it had rocked her household when she not only broke off the engagement with his brother but moved away and started dating women. All the people at home had suddenly started pretending she hadn’t existed.

  He listened intently as she told the audience why it was so important to her that she start the Madison Foundation, and how she’d been a well-off adult when her parents disowned her, but that so many of her fellow LGBTQ+ folks weren’t. That she knew so many kids had nowhere to go. And she was going to change that. As she gave her impassioned speech, he felt the old anger resurface.

  Everyone pretending she never existed had been the final straw for him. He’d graduated and gone off to figure out what to do with his life, not worrying about his family, or hers.

  Sure, he’d looked Syneca up periodically, and he’d seen she had started a foundation, but by then, a few more years had passed, and he’d convinced himself that she’d wanted nothing to do with him. She had left, and any numbers he had for her had been disconnected. He’d been imminently reachable that whole time, after all. But she had never tried. If she’d wanted anything to do with him, she would have reached out. She had to have known that he would still be there if she needed him. He’d been her best friend since
forever. That hadn’t changed after she’d left.

  Syn finished her speech with, “I just want to thank you all again, so much, for your generosity tonight. And, uh, well, have fun!” She nodded and waved, then handed the microphone back to Dusty.

  She strode off the stage. Toward him. Being here, in this Club, made his darker side come out. The one he hadn’t known was there for a really long time. He was the goofy fuck up. Jackson was the serious one. But his darker side was out now, and there was no putting it back in the box. At this point, it was just another facet of his personality. And, yeah, maybe he should stop thinking about it as his dark side. But he supposed some of the appeal of this lifestyle was the forbidden nature of it, the added thrill of doing something taboo.

  As she neared him, his heart pounded, and he had to force himself to stay where he was. He’d just been a college kid the last time he saw her, barely old enough to vote. Now, he was all grown up, and the lust coursing through him like a shot of whiskey was about so much more than adolescent hormones.

  She smiled at him, and his breath left him in a rush.

  “So, do you want to get out of here?” he blurted when his breath returned.

  She startled and her blue eyes widened. She looped her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if that’s such a great idea.”

  “Do you have someone?” he asked. He wasn’t sure what was making him be so bold. Probably being in a club full of kinksters was making his Dom side come to the fore. But he didn’t want to let this twist of Fate slip through his fingers. Not again.

  She watched him closely and then walked past him, leaving the stage. She glanced back at him as she got to the bottom of the steps off to the side. “You coming?”

  He grinned and followed her down the stairs and through the main bar area of the club to a corner where there were a few tables and chairs. She sat.

  “I have to hang for a while,” she said by way of explanation. “You know, this is kind of a work thing for me.”