by BJ Wane
She entered a large foyer empty of anyone else, took in the row of Stetsons hanging next to another set of double doors, a wall of small cubbyholes, some of which held shoes, and a hallway sporting a restrooms sign above it on the opposite side. The stored shoes drew her curiosity, as she’d never heard of such a thing—at least, she didn’t think that was a common practice at nightclubs.
Gripping her purse, Skye opened the inside door and met the surprised look on a receptionist’s face.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone else tonight. Are you a guest of someone’s?” the young girl asked from behind a counter.
“No, I’m…” Skye’s breath stalled as she looked around the cavernous room and noticed right away this was no ordinary club despite the long bar to her left, the country western song that had drawn several people to the dance floor, and the tables, chairs, and other seating arrangements. There was no mistaking the various BDSM equipment lining each side of the room or the partially clothed or nude guests bound on some. She didn’t understand why she wasn’t shocked, or why she seemed to know what each apparatus was and how it was used. The familiarity ended with that knowledge; she didn’t get a sense of possessing any personal experience with this lifestyle.
“Oh, I think I’ve made a mistake. I’m sorry,” she said, taking a step back and bumping against a rock-hard body. Crap. Now what?
“Another mistake, sweetheart? You’re really racking them up.”
Skye closed her eyes, recognizing that voice and her body’s instant reaction to Clayton Trebek’s deep-timbred, slow drawl. Of all the damn luck.
****
Clayton couldn’t believe his eyes when he came out of the restroom to see the same midnight-haired woman who had plagued his thoughts night and day all week standing in the entrance to his private club. A quick surge of excitement, and possibly relief, swept through him as he came up behind her wondering how she’d happened to cross paths with him yet again. If he didn’t know better from her reluctance to share anything about herself, he’d swear she was manipulating these meetings. Since he found her reticence credible and the stress etched on her face undeniable, he decided it was time he dug for more answers. The sooner he helped her with whatever dilemma she struggled with, the sooner he could quit worrying and thinking about her.
And, after hearing today that Louise Campbell dropped all charges against her abusive husband yet again, regardless of her sister’s urging not to, he could use the distraction from his frustration. It helped to know Louise’s sister refused to give up and had taken a room at the bed and breakfast after Chester made her leave the house.
“I’ll handle this, Charlotte. You’re excused to enjoy yourself now.”
Charlotte beamed at him. “Thank you, Master Clayton.”
His stranger turned to face him, her face devoid of surprise, shock, or uncertainty over finding herself in a kink club. “I’ll go. Again, I apologize for trespassing where I don’t belong,” she said, her tone stiff, her words clipped.
“Nonsense.” He took her elbow and nodded toward the bar. “You don’t appear thunderstruck by what you’ve seen, so come in and at least enjoy a drink with me. Please.” He gave her his most cajoling smile, the one that never failed to persuade a girl in his favor. Watching the indecision play out on her face, he had to ponder whether she might not fall in line as easily as all the others. If so, challenge accepted.
“I shouldn’t. I don’t want to intrude, and this”—she waved her free arm behind her—“isn’t my thing.”
“Even so, what could one drink hurt? We could explore the reasons why we keep getting thrown into each other’s paths, or why you’re not shying away from what my club offers.”
Her eyes flew to his, widening in surprise. “Your club?”
He shrugged, tugging her toward the bar. “Mine, Shawn’s, and Dakota’s, friends of mine. We bought out the previous owner last year.”
Kathie, a favorite sub of all the Masters, hopped up onto a barstool as they approached, proudly showing off her breasts in a demi-bra that propped them up with her nipples put on display. “Hey, Master Clayton. Are you getting lenient in your old age?” She gave his guest’s jeans and sandals a pointed look she softened with one of her impish grins.
“She’s not a member,” he returned without further explanation, noticing she didn’t seem uncomfortable with Kathie’s partial nudity in front of him. The more he was around her, the more she piqued his curiosity. Catching her off-guard, he gripped her waist and boosted her onto the stool next to Kathie. Bracing his hands on the bar top behind her, he leaned in to tease with a touch of intimidation she responded to by narrowing her eyes. “If we’re going to get to know each other, sweetheart, I need your name.”
“What if I don’t want to get to know you any better?” she replied, the pulse in her neck jumping as her gaze lowered to his mouth so close to hers.
Clayton nipped her lower lip, whispering, “I’d say you’re lying.”
Kathie chuckled. “Give it up, girlfriend. When Master Clayton turns on the charm, there’s no resisting him.”
“Go away, Kathie.” He flicked her an annoyed look he was sure she would ignore. Shawn and Lisa walked up in time to spare Clayton from having to deal with Kathie.
“Skye! You’re still hanging around. That’s great!” Lisa exclaimed.
“Skye? That’s a pretty name.” Clayton could feel her relax, which would help in getting her to open up more. “How do you two know each other?” he asked as Kathie obeyed for once and went in search of someone to hook up with.
“We had a sandwich together the other day when you guys were working late on the ranch. Skye, this is Shawn, our newly elected sheriff,” she boasted.
“And Lisa’s very significant other.” Shawn held out his hand as Clayton moved back to give Skye breathing room.
“Nice to meet you.” A flash of fear crossed Skye’s face as she took Shawn’s hand, but she masked it quickly, her expression changing to wariness that alerted Clayton to her unease around law enforcement.
Was she a victim needing help, or a lawbreaker intent on avoiding cops? His determination to get answers just increased, as those answers would decide whether he was friend or foe from here on out.
“I see Master Clayton has welcomed you as his guest to our club. Lisa, would you mind filling Skye in on rules while Clayton and I get drinks?”
Clayton caught Shawn’s questioning glance and backed up his request. “What can I get you, Skye? As a guest, it’s on the house, and I’m sure Lisa would enjoy your company again for a few minutes.”
That quick snap of irritation came and went in her eyes again, telling him she didn’t appreciate getting backed into a corner. He liked a woman with backbone, but until he figured out what was going on with her, he planned to keep pushing, regardless of her displeasure or objections.
“A light beer, and thank you,” she replied, her face settling into a bland expression.
“There’s an empty table. Let’s grab it, Skye.”
Clayton noticed the way Skye avoided looking at him as she followed Lisa after getting their drinks, listening for her answer when he heard Lisa ask, “Are you still staying at the campground?”
“Yes, but maybe not for much longer.”
Shawn frowned as he and Clayton stepped up to the bar. “Is she traveling alone?”
“I have no idea, but it sounds like it.” First she was heading home, now she’s staying at the campground. Her stories didn’t make a lot of sense. “Remember me mentioning coming across someone at the creek the other day? That’s her. I’ve seen her in town, also, but I thought she had continued on before finding her at the front desk a few minutes ago.”
Clayton cut his gaze toward Skye again, his interest in her remaining steadfast when he saw how comfortable she still appeared with her eyes on the scene between Ben and Kathie. Bound naked on a spanking bench, Kathie’s breasts were heaving as Ben teased her pussy with a vibrator, her face red from either fr
ustration or pleasure. It was hard to tell which from a distance.
“It’s not her first time in a club,” Shawn observed.
“I get that impression also, but neither is she experienced.” He turned around as Shawn went behind the bar to get their drinks himself when several members arrived and signaled for Simon’s attention.
“She wasn’t comfortable seeing you or meeting me. Maybe it’s best if you walk her out after having a drink with her,” Shawn suggested as he drew the first beer and handed it to him.
“Probably, but not as much fun, or as enlightening as spending a little time with her until I’m due to spell Dakota with monitoring.”
Shawn’s gray eyes held a glint of humor as he said, “That won’t leave you much time to play.”
Clayton hadn’t thought along those lines, only about learning more about Skye. Since he freely admitted to having a one-track mind once he entered the club, his desire to spend time tonight with someone he barely knew rather than with one of the subs who liked him and his dominance told him how much the chance encounters with Skye had commanded his attention. The sooner he could figure her out, the faster he could move on, like always.
“There’s always next week to make one or two of our members happy.” Clayton nodded toward Skye and Lisa seated at a nearby table. “Skye neglected to give me her name or anything else of a personal nature the times we’ve run into each other, and after dealing with Louise Campbell twice now, I can spot a woman in trouble.”
Shawn’s jaw tightened and his eyes went dark. He had come to Louise’s rescue more than once as a deputy sheriff when the Campbells loud arguments had drawn their neighbor’s attention and they alerted the cops. Shawn was the one who had informed Clayton that afternoon of Louise’s change of heart in filing charges against her abusive husband yet again, leaving both of them frustrated. Clayton had yet to lose a case he took to court, but he couldn’t prosecute Chester Campbell for assault without his wife’s cooperation.
“One of these times it will be too late for her to change her mind. I dread that day,” Shawn said.
“I hear you.”
He glanced at Skye again and saw the same uncertain expression on her face he’d seen before. She didn’t show signs of fear and pain, like Louise, but there was something about the lost look in her eyes that told him she was on her own, living in dread of something or of revealing too much. The possibility of either compelled him to push for answers.
He downed the last of his beer and handed Shawn the bottle. “Which is why I’m not going to give up.” Without explaining further, Clayton rose and strode toward Skye, hoping to discover more about her tonight than her first name.
Chapter Four
“It seems you’ve snagged Master Clayton’s interest for tonight. I can vouch for him, if you’re interested in staying for a while,” Lisa told Skye. “He’s a good Dom, one you can trust, especially if you’re unsure about anything.”
Skye was unsure about a lot of things, but as Clayton approached the table and her pulse executed that same leap of expectation as every other time she’d seen him focusing that intense blue gaze on her, he topped her list. Having no memory of past male interests other than being told she was now a widow of a murdered man, she didn’t have anything to base her feelings on toward this man who was all but a stranger.
He irritated her yet she was attracted to him. Why? Because he was a sexy, heart-tripping diversion from the stress of her current circumstances? Despite his annoying persistence tonight, she couldn’t help wanting to stick around a little longer to learn why she found something familiar about what this private club was all about. She didn’t get a sense of personal experience with submission to BDSM, but knowledge of the lifestyle seemed to be there, somewhere in her lost memories. Yet another puzzle for her to solve.
Clayton halted in front of Skye and held out his hand, his eyes a blue slit beneath his tan Stetson, his lower face showing the hint of a darker five-o’clock beard than his light, sandy hair curling around his sun-bronzed neck. The black T-shirt stretching with taut snugness around his wide shoulders was tucked into the same tight denim that molded to his slim hips and thick thighs as he’d worn before.
The whole mouthwatering, sex-on-a-stick cowboy appeared to do it for her, maybe because she lived in a Western state rife with such men. Or, she considered as she reached for his hand, it could be the sex-charged atmosphere and her desire for a closer exploration of what was going on around her that accounted for her easy capitulation to his silent command. Either way, she didn’t hesitate to accept his offer.
“Care for a tour before you head out?”
“If you don’t mind and have the time.” A shiver went through her when his rough callouses scratched her softer palm as she got to her feet. The comfort she derived from his tight grip seemed odd considering she wasn’t sure she liked the man all that much.
“I can always make time for a pretty girl.” He winked at both her and Lisa.
“You forget, I know you better than Skye does,” Lisa said with a smile. “Be careful, Skye. He’ll charm you into a scene, and you’ll never know what hit you.”
“I think I can handle him,” she returned. The baggage Skye carried would keep her grounded and immune to his and anyone else’s charm but might also tempt her into taking this opportunity to escape that stress for a short time.
“A challenge for me. I’ll take it.” Clayton gave her hand a tug, glancing toward Lisa as Shawn arrived and helped her up. “Thank you, sweetheart. Catch you two later.”
“Enjoy your tour, Skye,” Shawn said.
“Thank you,” she barely got out before Clayton wasted no time leading her toward the left side of the room. Skye gave him a cool look when he stopped at the first apparatus, the spanking bench and couple who had caught her attention earlier, and turned to face her. “If you’re in such a hurry, I can ask someone else, or just leave.”
“No hurry. I didn’t want to give you the chance to change your mind. Given our recent encounters, I think it’s time we got to know more about each other.”
He pulled her close to his side, and she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit how nice it was to lean on someone for a change. It was only physical relief, but since she couldn’t risk an emotional unburdening, she’d take what little she could get, regardless of the misgivings that statement evoked. During the last week of meeting the friendly people around Mountain Bend, she’d gotten good at bullshitting her way through personal inquiries she couldn’t answer.
The same black-haired, green-eyed Dom she’d been watching from the table now rested his hand between Kathie’s bound, spread thighs as he looked over at them. “A new member, or guest, Master Clayton?”
“A guest, for now. Skye, this is Master Ben, and you remember Kathie.”
“I do. Sir, it’s nice to meet you.” Her automatic use of the correct form of address drew Clayton’s questioning glance, but she couldn’t explain what she didn’t know or recall.
“Welcome to Spurs, Skye. I hope you’ll find what you’re needing here and come back again.” Master Ben’s heated gaze indicated he didn’t mind her loose jeans and button down summer blouse and added to the warmth spreading through her from pressing against Clayton’s big body. “If you do, look me up.”
“Thank you.” Skye couldn’t think of anything else to say to his suggestion, not with Clayton standing so close. Clayton’s silence gave credence to the warnings she’d heard about his penchant for avoiding anything more than a night or two of mutual pleasure.
“Hey, Master Ben, would you mind giving me some of that attention now?” Kathie whined before adding a teasing jiggle of her full breasts.
Kathie’s bound arms made the effort to get Master Ben’s notice difficult, but Skye wondered from her red face and soft sigh if she might enjoy the frustration. She glanced from Master Ben’s frown up at Clayton, who regarded the blonde with an amused tilt of his enticing mouth, then stiffened at that last thou
ght. It wouldn’t do to admit to anything appealing about this man, not with his focused determination centered on finding out more about her.
Skye winced as Master Ben delivered a pinch to the girl’s already puffy labia. From Kathie’s obvious strain of her thighs against the binding straps and the telltale additional damp seepage from her slit, she got off on that bite of pain. They’d only just begun their tour, but she’d already witnessed enough to occupy her mind for a while.
“I’ll let you get back to your scene,” Clayton drawled with a hint of humor as he drew Skye away.
Ben nodded. “Catch you later, then.”
Clayton guided her to a St. Andrew’s Cross, saying, “You’re wondering about the pain, and why Kathie didn’t use her safe word.”
How she knew what to call the wooden T with cuffs attached on the ends of each slat eluded her, like so much else. “A little,” she admitted. No one was using this contraption yet images of different people with their wrists and ankles encased in cuffs flashed through her head.
He stopped in front of the cross and looked down at her, cocking his head. “Yet you don’t appear surprised or shocked at what you’re seeing, as if this isn’t the first time you’ve been a guest at such an establishment.”
Given those brief, vivid flashes, she guessed he was correct and stuck with that possible truth to answer with a shrug. “I visited one once, but why do you assume I was a guest? Is my lack of personal experience that obvious?” It bothered her he could read her so well after a few brief encounters, yet she was more comfortable with him than anyone else so far, both here and elsewhere.
“To an experienced Dom, yes.” Clayton lifted the cuffs. “Do you want to change that?”
Did she? Skye’s uncertainty told her she’d only observed before, but why, she couldn’t figure out. From the quiver of excitement tickling her abdomen, she was now open to the idea, regardless of whatever had held her back before. But she needed to be sure before taking that step.
