With her only method of escape out of sight, she turned her gaze to the broad steps and heavy wooden doors in front of her, opened her mouth, and drew in a deep breath of cool evening air. She’d gotten used to flying solo over the last year, but the tightness in her chest and the lack of oxygen reaching her lungs proved there were still a few things she wasn’t comfortable doing alone.
Visiting Pandora’s Playground was apparently one of them.
“Oh, c’mon, Muriel,” she growled through clenched teeth as she fisted her hands at her sides. “This is ridiculous.”
Pandora’s Playground had been a second home to her late husband, Ian, and her over the past three years—four if she counted the year they’d spent transforming the old live-performance theater into one of the most exclusive kink clubs in the southeast.
All their closest friends were members, and there wasn’t any place she felt more comfortable, or loved, than at the club.
However, at the moment, she felt like a wild animal: frightened and cornered with no means of escape, even though she stood at the edge of a wide-open street.
She brushed away a piece of hair tickling the corner of her eye and futilely wished the suffocating panic closing in on her could be so easily swept away. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wasn’t supposed to arrive alone at a club like this. She was supposed to be with Ian.
Dammit, why did I agree to come here tonight?
Because rather than using his concerned-friend voice to initiate the invitation, Master Lucas had spoken to her like a Dom commanding a sub. “Be at the club Friday night, eight sharp.”
Before her brain cells established a defensive position and declined the invitation, her compliant, submissive soul stepped forward and spoke on her behalf. “Yes, Sir.”
She could’ve called him back and told him she had plans she’d forgotten about and couldn’t make it, but the truth was she missed Pandora’s and her friends. She missed her old life… and her old self. Following his command, she’d arrived precisely at eight, but her resident scaredy-cat kept waving her paw, reminding Muriel that while he’d told her to be at the club at eight, he hadn’t actually said anything about entering the building.
The overhead canopy loomed like an ominous dark cloud, but the embedded lights casting a glow over her no doubt illuminated every fear and worry line creasing her face.
She lifted her gaze to the security camera mounted in the corner and stared at it like she could see through the lens and into the eyes of the man she knew was watching.
If she continued to stand there looking desperate and pathetic, would he take pity on her and come to her rescue?
No, probably not. Lucas Steele was the most patient man, as well as one of the most disciplined Doms, she’d ever met. Even if it took her hours to make up her mind, he would patiently stand in front of the monitor, watching and protecting from a distance, just as he’d done for the past year.
The problem was even though she was physically safe and sound, she was an emotional mess. She huffed at the notion that would matter to him. He was a Dom… He thrived on keeping submissives in a state of upheaval. Her emotional earthquake sure as hell wouldn’t spur him into action.
She chewed her bottom lip and returned her attention to the doors—the ones she’d never walked through alone. The prospect of doing so tonight threw a wash of sadness over her, burning her eyes and causing her to sway on the stilettos Ian loved so much. Without his warm, loving hands to steady her, she had no choice but to grab hold of the cold, brass handrail and support herself.
The sight of her bare ring finger intensified the burn in her eyes and forced her to clamp down on her lip to stop the trembling.
“You’re not here to play, Muriel. You’re here to visit with friends… and maybe… possibly… if it feels right… start slowly moving forward with your life.”
Which meant she needed to start moving in the direction of those damned doors before she got ticketed for loitering. Having Lucas play witness to her chicken-skinned approach was bad enough. She didn’t need the added embarrassment of the valet returning from the garage to find her rooted where he’d left her.
With a deep breath, she concentrated on the toes of her shoes as she lifted first one foot, then the other, slowly… cautiously… climbing the red-carpeted steps to the club’s grand entrance.
The vertical brass handles were icy under her fingers and the heavy door seemed to pull against her as she tugged it open. The warm ambiance of the lobby reached out invitingly, so she slipped through the crack in the door and stepped inside.
The theater’s original entryway had been a large, open space that allowed show-goers to congregate and visit before the performance. Ian, Lucas, and Mathew had reduced the size of the room to create a more intimate setting, as well as making more space in the interior of the club for playrooms. Even though they’d redistributed the space, they’d worked hard to preserve the original ambiance and had far exceeded everyone’s expectations, including their own.
Heavy red velvet drapes hung on either side of the ticket window, which now functioned as the reception area and coat closet. Reproduction wallpaper lined the walls and reflected the warm light cast by the original gas wall sconces. If one closed their eyes, they could almost hear the laughter and chatter of all those who’d filled the room decades before.
To the left of the coatroom was a modern office, which housed the monitors for the security cameras covering every inch of the club, including the sidewalk out front. She found Lucas exactly where she’d expected—leaning against the doorway of the office where he could keep an eye on the camera monitoring the sidewalk as well as the front door itself.
His tender smile and the pride shimmering in his green eyes warmed her heart and soothed the sharp, raw edges of her nerves. “You’re such a brave girl.”
She laughed and dropped her chin to her chest, hiding her embarrassment at having been caught flat-footed… well, as flat-footed as a girl could get in four-inch heels. “I don’t feel very brave.” She slid her toe through the thick-pile carpeting and twisted her mouth into a pout. “You could’ve come out and gotten me.”
“I could have,” he said, shoving off the doorway to close the distance between them to envelop her in a tight, welcoming hug.
His arms wrapped protectively around her, as well as the press of his solid body against hers, made her glad she found the guts to shuffle her butt through the door. As a massage therapist, she touched people on a daily basis. But no one ever touched her.
It’d been a year since anyone held her close, and until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much she missed the physical connection.
When he relaxed his grip, she reluctantly followed his lead and stepped away from the warmth of his embrace. “You know why I didn’t come for you, right?” His moss-green eyes roamed her face, searching for clues that she understood why he’d left her alone.
She sighed and nodded. “If you’d saved me, you wouldn’t know if I’m ready to be here or not.”
The corner of his mouth kicked into a lopsided grin and his eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. “I know you’re ready. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have called you…” He let the sentence trail off, allowing her to assimilate the rest on her own.
She smiled, then dipped her head and drew in a deep breath. She knew the answer he was looking for, and she needed a minute to make sure she gave him complete honesty. Lifting her gaze to meet his, she drew back her shoulders and gave him the most reassuring smile she could muster. “I needed to know I’m ready.” And after nearly a year of grieving the loss of Ian, she figured she was as ready as she would ever be.
“Brave and smart,” he said, slipping an arm around her shoulder before dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “You’ll do all right here.”
Laughing along with him came easy until her gaze slid to the heavy wooden doors leading into the heart of the club. By sheer force of will, she’d gotten inside the building, but stand
ing in the lobby was easy. Now that she was close enough to hear the steady bass of the heart’s beat, doubt crept back in on a wave of nervous energy. Her smile froze as her muscles contracted and a chill swept across the back of her neck and down her arms.
The club hostess, a young submissive, judging by the way she was dressed and kept her gaze lowered, had been quietly standing off to the side, smiling awkwardly and playing with the registration book on the counter. As if picking up on Muriel’s tension and realizing something needed to be done to break her frozen limbs loose, she cleared her throat and said, “Master Lucas, as your guest, does she need to sign in?”
Lucas’s carefree laughter filled the lobby and wrapped around Muriel, helping to ward off the chill that had grabbed hold of her and threatened to drag her out of the building. “She isn’t a guest, Chrissie. Not only is Muriel a founding member of the club, but she’s one of my business partners.” His grin widened as he winked at the girl. “I guess, technically, that makes her your boss.”
“What?” Muriel sputtered. The shock of his statement was enough to break her free of the frozen animation that had captured her, and she whipped her head around to face Lucas so fast she made herself dizzy.
He cocked his head to the side and gave her a blank stare. “Who”—a shadow crossed his face as his smile faltered—“who created Pandora’s Playground?”
“You, Mathew, and Ian.”
Three men from three very different walks of life who found each other in college and became closer than brothers with an unshakable bond.
Lucas nodded and swallowed hard. “Who owns Ian’s shares now?”
She pressed her lips together and fought the knot filling her throat. In the year since Ian’s passing, she’d left all the legal matters to Mathew, an attorney, because she knew he’d take care of things just as Ian had. They’d never talked specifics, and she’d never thought about what happened to Ian’s share in Pandora’s, but since all his assets transferred to her…
“Well, hell.” She gave the girl a whatdya know look. “I guess he’s right. About being an owner, anyway. Forget all that being-a-boss business.”
Chrissie flushed and dropped her gaze to the counter. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t recognize you.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Muriel reached across the counter and squeezed her hand. “I’m not a Domme, and all this ownership stuff is on paper only. There’s no need to ma’am me. There’s also no way you would’ve recognized me.” She released the girl’s hand and cleared her throat. “I haven’t been here in a long time.”
Too long, a tiny voice whispered in her ear, while another part of her still questioned if she’d waited long enough.
She swallowed hard as her stomach pitched and rolled like an angry sea. Nervous and jittery, she turned to Lucas, the only lifeline she had at the moment. “Walking through those doors is bound to set off an avalanche of emotions. Even though I’m not playing, I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”
As the words left her mouth, she settled her gaze on the floor so he didn’t pick up on the twisting uncertainty in her eyes. The most important element in any relationship was honesty, and that includes one’s relationship with themselves. If she were to play by the rules and be completely honest with herself right now, she might be forced to admit some of her emotional distress came from knowing she wasn’t playing.
For the past year, a significant part of who she was as a woman had been locked away. The stifled submissive had been making a lot of noise lately, demanding more and more of Muriel’s attention, but Muriel wondered if she’d ever be able to bring her out into the light again.
She’d never submitted to anyone but Ian. She hadn’t even known she was a submissive until he unlocked the hidden door and coaxed her out of the dark into the world. She missed the exquisite bond forged between a Dominant and his submissive and had begun to wonder if she’d ever be complete without it. But the thought of moving on without him left her off balance and riddled with guilt.
As Lucas continued to study her, no doubt evaluating her body language and facial expressions to figure out where her head was, the outer doors opened and a couple entered the lobby. She recognized the man as Kevin Mazze, the contractor who did the majority of the renovations on the building. Beside him stood a petite blonde, who looked as nervous and conflicted as Muriel felt.
Lucas leaned in close to Kevin and spoke in a low voice intended for Kevin’s ears only. Kevin responded in kind, then the two men laughed before he took his lady friend’s coat and handed it over to Chrissie. As the couple stepped up to the doors, Muriel gasped with shock at seeing wedding bands on their hands.
Wow… Wildman, who Ian believed would never settle down, is married.
As he looked down at his wife with an intimate, reassuring smile, her chest rose and fell with sharp breaths and she latched onto and held his gaze as if the connection with him was the only thing keeping her alive. He kissed her mouth, then moved on to the soft skin of her inner wrists. As he slipped on cuffs and buckled them in front, she whispered, “I love you,” then dropped her gaze to the floor.
The love flowing between them was a living, breathing thing and was almost more than Muriel could bear. Her chest constricted and she nearly crumpled with grief for all she’d lost as well as a deep longing for the chance to share that kind of love again.
Watching the woman’s transformation from a loving wife to a devoted submissive who would crawl across broken glass if it would please her Dom, touched Muriel on a cellular level. Her inner submissive cried out with need, and Muriel squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears stinging the backs of her eyes from making an escape.
An ache in her hand drew her attention away from the couple and down to where she’d latched onto Lucas’s forearm so tightly her knuckles were white. She snapped her gaze to his, not the least bit surprised to find him watching her intently… knowingly.
Music from the bar flooded the lobby as the couple opened the doors and disappeared inside, leaving Muriel alone with Lucas and his all-seeing eyes.
She released his arm and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go in there…
But she also couldn’t leave without at least giving it a try.
“I’m sorry,” she said weakly as she brushed the wrinkles out of his sleeve. “I’m so confused. I know I need to get back into the game of life, but I don’t know how.”
He linked his fingers with hers and brought her hand to his lips. “You take baby steps, and let us help you feel your way along. Being here is a good start.” He stepped behind her and removed her coat, then handed it over to Chrissie. Returning to Muriel, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Everyone here loves you, and no one will allow any harm—physical or emotional—to come to you. You know that, right?”
“I know. I could never go anywhere else and do this.”
“There’s no need to go anywhere else.” A wicked shimmer lit his eyes, causing a surge of panic to mix with excitement that created a massive dose of trepidation. But before she could put the brakes on her rubbery legs and stop the forward momentum, he opened the door, pulled her into the cavernous interior of Pandora’s Playground, and said, “Everything you need is right here.”
*
Mathew Galindo always figured he was on the fast track to hell, and tonight’s fun and games would certainly be an up-close and personal preview of the misery and suffering the fiery depths would bring. Nothing screamed WELCOME TO HELL louder than having everything he ever wanted laid in the palms of his hands… and rather than being able to hold the precious gift close to his heart to keep and cherish forever, he would have to force his fingers apart and let the promise of salvation sift through like dry sand.
Jesus.
He scrubbed his hands over his face and huffed with seething frustration. How would he ever get through the night with the little bit of humanity he’d managed to retain over the years still intact?
The bea
m of light from the lobby slashing across the bar’s hardwood floor as the door opened, along with the gasp of surprise and the ripple of excitement that rolled through the crowd told him the guest of honor had arrived.
But he didn’t needed to see, hear, or feel any of those things to know his personal Kryptonite had arrived. The burning in his chest from his seized lungs and the beads of sweat rolling down the back of his neck were warning enough.
Anytime Muriel got within fifty feet of him, his molecular makeup shifted and instantly realigned to her frequency. His body honed in on her like a guided missile and no matter where she was or how hard he tried to fight the pull, he stayed locked on her until she left the premises.
She hadn’t taken more than ten steps into the club before the members swarmed her. Standing just inside the doors, the light from the EXIT sign cast an unholy red glow over her blond hair and pale dress—which was appropriate for how he viewed the evening, but the image was all wrong for her. She might be the tormentor of his soul and the reason his life was a living hell, but she was the closest thing to an angel he would ever see.
Her long, blond hair, brilliant blue eyes, and dazzling smile caught the attention of anyone within sight of her. But her wide-open heart and deeply compassionate nature gave her an ethereal glow that drew people in and kept them captivated.
From the stark contrast of their physical appearances—her blond hair to his black, her blue eyes to his brown—to the cool, emotionless void of his inner being, she was his opposite in every way.
The first time he laid eyes on her, her light pierced his cold, black heart and he’d instantly recognized her as his mate.
The problem was she’d been on his best friend’s arm, laughing at his witty charm and looking at him with adoring eyes, completely oblivious that Mathew was even in the room. Ian had brought her with him when he stopped by the apartment he shared with Mathew to shower and change clothes before dinner. He’d asked Mathew to keep her company in his absence, and he had been only too happy to act as Ian’s stand-in.
Matter of Time Page 15
