by Sasha White
He stared at her, and she looked right back, calm in a way she’d never really felt before. She wasn’t worried.
Adam nodded, took a white card from the back pocket of his jeans, and slid it across the bar top to her. “Two. Becoming a member here makes you mine. Not mine as in my sub, but still, mine, and under my care. This is my personal cell number, if you ever have any concerns or issues, I want to know. That means if you have questions, iffy or bad experiences, or even just weird vibes from someone, you come to me. You hear?”
Ronnie was no innocent. She recognized the look in Adam’s eyes and knew on a visceral level that this man was dangerous. Not to her, but to anyone who would dare hurt someone he considered his.
Relief flowed through her. She’d known him less than five minutes, and she trusted him. With this man’s protection, she knew she’d be able to truly explore her darkest fantasies and not feel threatened.
She reached for the card. “Got it.”
Instead of joining the clique of women when Adam was done talking to her, Ronnie eased her way around the club. Her blood heated and her imagination fired up with all sorts of dirty thoughts as she checked out a spanking bench, a flat table, hooks and bolts sticking out of the walls, and chains hanging from the ceiling.
So many ways to be tied up, or down, or over …
A shiver danced down her spine, and she gave herself a shake. She really needed to get a hold of herself.
Then she saw the St. Andrew’s Cross—the thing she dreamt about the most. She’d always thought they were wood, but not this one. This one was steel. Shiny, clean, and sparkling steel that was cool and smooth to her light touch. Bolts at each corner of the cross for ropes to be slid through, or cuffs to be hooked. Being tied to this cross would be the ultimate for her. Hard steel against her skin, spread open and ready to take whatever would please her Dom. She wanted to be tied to it. To be touched and teased, sensually taunted and tantalized, as she opened herself completely to the man she’d chosen to give herself to.
First, he’d touch her lightly, trailing fingertips over her skin, raising goose bumps and shivers of pleasure before stepping back and picking up his favorite toy. Would it be a flogger or a whip? Maybe a riding crop or a cane? Whatever it was, she’d be happy to have him use it on her. It would heat her skin, get her nipples hard and her juices flowing so that when he put down the toy and stalked toward her, she’d—
A sharp whistle rent the air and pulled her abruptly back to the present. She jerked her hand away from the cross and turned to face where Adam stood on the small stage, telling everyone to find a seat. Several men and women joined the half-dozen women already there. She hurried to join them, sinking into a chair near the back of the group.
“I’ve already introduced myself to each and every one of you, and now it’s time for you to meet those who will be running your training sessions. Each of these people has their own areas of expertise, but they also have years of experience in the lifestyle and a wealth of BDSM knowledge. Meet, Eden, Simon, and Ian. Listen to them. Learn from them.”
Ronnie watched as a tall, slim, yet curvy woman with long dark hair spilling over her shoulders stepped onto the stage and faced them with a sincere smile. Behind her was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. The guy had the same dark, dangerous vibe Adam did, but his grin was pure erotic devil. Excitement zipped straight to her nipples at the sight of his muscled forearms and wicked grin. The man was hot!
Then she saw the last man to walk up onto the stage. It took a second for her mind to catch up to what her eyes saw and acknowledge the man her heart had recognized immediately.
Someone she thought long forgotten.
Ian Johnson.
CHAPTER TWO
“Tonight will be your first session. Think of it as orientation, followed by a meet and greet,” Eden said, stepping forward and pulling Ronnie out of her shock. The woman was beautiful, and her sultry voice seductive. “Overwatch is a private, members-only club. It’s a safe haven for those who want to explore their desires, including, but not limited to BDSM. That said, everyone in this group is here specifically because of a desire to explore and play in a BDSM environment. During your sessions, you’ll experience various aspects of BDSM, but when you are in the club, know that some members could be voyeurs, exhibitionists, or are perhaps looking to be a third or fourth in some group play. That does not mean anything goes here.”
The darkly handsome Simon stepped forward, taking over where Eden left off. “The beauty of BDSM is that there are very few right and wrong things. Some people enjoy light play, some like it deep and intense. Some are into pain, and others are here purely to serve. Some people like to be tied and teased, some like to be spanked and fucked. And then there’s the other side of the coin. Those of us who like to be in charge, giveing the spanking, the tying and the teasing. Basically, if it feels good, and it hurts no one — unless they like the hurt...” He rubbed his hands together and wiggled his eyebrows, making everyone laugh, breaking the slight tension that had been in the room. “Then it’s generally allowed. Safe, sane, and above all consensual.”
Ian picked up where Simon stopped, moving forward and drawing all eyes to him. “The most important thing of all, no matter what someone is into, is respect. You don’t have to like what they like to respect them. As you may have noticed, Adam is very selective about who gets into this club. All new members, no matter their level of experience, go through an orientation like this. The rules are laid out, and if you don’t follow them, there will be consequences. Not playful BDSM style punishments either, but real-life legal consequences. The paperwork you’ll be signing is legal and binding. We take our members’ privacy, comfort, and safety seriously here.”
Just hearing his voice again caused Ronnie’s nipples to peak, and her breath to catch. He’d always had a deep voice, but it had gained some rasp over the years, and the growl was absolutely delicious.
“Those of you who have played before, or who have knowledge of the lifestyle might notice a few things are different here. First off, we don’t make all the subs or bottoms use the labels Master or Mistress,” Adam said, snapping her attention back to center stage. “Sir, Ma’am, or even M’lady are titles most often used. You might hear a bottom calling a Top Master or Mistress, but if you do, that’s between them. It’s not a must here at Overwatch. As Ian said, what is a must here is respect. It doesn’t matter if you’re a Top or bottom, sub or Dom, voyeur or third in a party of three, everyone gets respect.”
One of the flaws in Ronnie’s fantasy had always been having to call someone Master. She’d never been into it, and hearing that it wasn’t required was a huge relief.
“You might also wonder what the club safe word is,” he said. “We use the stoplight system here. Red means stop; yellow, caution; and green, go. For those doing BDSM, those are the club safewords. In this club, there are also some who do not practice BDSM, so when not in a negotiated scene, it’s simple. No means no. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Some might call what we’re doing play, but it’s not. It’s real, and the consequences—emotional, psychological, and physical—are real. So be real. Role-playing can be exciting, and rough sex can be … intense. Cursing, swearing, screaming, and fighting back — it’s all good. We also understand that within the scene, ‘no’ is not used as a safeword. However, if the bottom or sub calls red, play stops immediately, and the scene is over — as in finished for the evening. The safeword is not to ever be ignored – under any circumstances. If you cannot wrap your head around that then this isn’t the club for you.”
Adam prowled the stage as he spoke, and excitement pooled in Ronnie’s gut. This guy was for real. They were all for real. This club was for real. No more games, no more wannabes. She was in it for real now.
At that thought, Ronnie’s gaze automatically swung back to Ian. He stood tall and confident next to the others, not overshadowed by Adam’s intensity in any way, despite being still and silent. The longer
she looked at him, the more things started to fall into place in her mind, and heat crept up her neck.
Ian had been her first crush, the guy who’d caused her first stirrings of desire when she was barely a teenager. It would make sense that her desire for a dominant man stemmed from her adolescent yearnings for him, the good-looking boy next door who’d always been there for her. He hadn’t laughed at her for wanting to play on the all-boys baseball team at school, or for fighting to be able to take shop class instead of home economics. He’d been her first friend when she’d moved out to California, and the first guy to ever kiss her.
Unfortunately, he’d disappeared from her life after that kiss.
Ian strode through the club, heading straight for Ronnie. She’d recognized him earlier. Her eyes had widened when he stepped onto the stage, and her cheeks had flushed when he caught her staring at him when one of the others was talking. But since the orientation part of the night was over and the class started mingling, she hadn’t even glanced his way.
Almost every other person had made an effort to meet him; the Doms introduced themselves with a firm handshake, and the subs batted their lashes over eyes filled with desire. At this point, the desire wasn’t for him personally so much as an experienced Dom, and he didn’t take offense at it. The meet-and-greet portion of the night might seem purely social, but it was really the first step in teaching the attendees how to negotiate the world of the club. It bothered him to see Ronnie sitting at the bar instead of moving through the crowd.
“Excuse me,” he said to Christy, the one female they had in the class who was there to train as a Domme.
Kalina, the club submissive who was acting as bartender for them, saw him coming and smiled. “Ian, may I get you a drink?”
“Thank you, Kalina, but no.”
She lowered her eyes and stepped away, and he leaned against the bar next to Ronnie. She turned in her seat, and their eyes met.
Christ, she still had those big dark eyes he’d loved years ago. “Hello, again,” he said.
“Hey,” she said. “Long time, no see.”
They looked at one another, and the years fell away. She wasn’t someone he used to know anymore. She was Ronnie. The same girl next door he’d looked out for. The same one who’d sat at his side after his grandmother passed, and tempted him beyond reason until he’d kissed her. He’d been eighteen at the time and had no business kissing a fifteen-year-old.
“A three-year age difference won’t stop me now,” he said before his brain caught up with his mouth.
Those eyes widened again as she flushed a pretty pink and her lips parted on a gasp.
Ian smiled. When he’d first thought of Ronnie in the club, he’d worried he wouldn’t be able to get into the right mindset to train her, but that wasn’t the case at all. He’d watched from the wraparound viewing lane above the club’s main floor as Adam met each person individually and gave them his card. He hadn’t recognized Ronnie when she’d first come in, but when she’d walked over to the bar, he’d known that stride. That confident walk hadn’t changed.
She hadn’t grown much, either. Still a tiny thing, she wore tight blue jeans, and a black tank top that showed off a strong, tight body. He didn’t know what he’d expected her to look like, but she surprised him. Her dark caramel-colored hair, so silky his fingers tingled with the need to tangle in the strands, was cut in a way that was both simple, and sassy. Not only did the simple clothes and hairstyle show off her body and skin, they showed off the colorful tattoos covering her right arm and shoulder.
He’d been surprised, and at the same time, he knew he shouldn’t be. As he looked at her now, heat started to build within him—a need to get deep inside her mind, seek out what made her juices flow, and then give her the freedom to wallow in her own desires. Anticipation began to build in his gut.
“It’s been too long, Ronnie. I’m glad you found Overwatch.”
In less than a second, the tough chick he remembered appeared again. A slim brow arched high, and Ronnie crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s your fault it’s been so long.”
“Yes, it’s my fault.” He nodded. “After my grandmother passed, there didn’t seem to be a reason to stick around.”
“Or a reason to say good-bye?”
Some might not have seen the hurt in her eyes, but Ian was a good Dom. He saw it, and it was like a punch to the gut. “You’re right, I should’ve said good-bye before I left. Especially to you, since I know you’d have understood how I was feeling.”
Her arms relaxed, and her eyes cleared. “You’re right. I would’ve understood.”
Feeling like he’d shed a monkey from his back he hadn’t even known was there, Ian opened his arms. Ronnie grinned, hopped off the stool and into his hug. And, fuck, if that didn’t feel good.
“Hey, what’s this?” Simon stopped next to them. “There’s no touching allowed at the first session, Ian. Hands off.”
Ronnie immediately pulled back and, strangely reluctant, Ian let her go.
“Sorry, Sir,” Ronnie said, facing Simon.
“No apology needed from you, lil’bit,” Simon said with a smile. “It’s Ian here who should know better.”
Ian gave Simon a look that said he knew exactly what the other man was up to. “Simon, meet Ronnie Mack, an old friend of mine. Ronnie, this is Simon Sharp, one of your other trainers.”
“I prefer to go by Veronica when here.” She held out a hand to Simon.
He grinned, took her hand, and instead of shaking it, turned it over and kissed her palm. “A pleasure, Veronica. Welcome to Overwatch.”
“Now who’s touching, buddy?” Ian growled.
Ronnie laughed and looked back and forth between them. “I knew from the introductions that this place was special, but I have to admit, I’m surprised at how casual everyone is. I mean, most of the guys I’ve met in the past were all puffed up and adamant about being called Sir or Master every time I opened my mouth. This mostly feels ...”
“Normal?” Ian said.
She shook her head. “Natural. It feels natural.”
“She’s gonna be special,” Simon said a few minutes later while they watched her walking away from them.
Tearing his gaze from Ronnie’s tight ass, he glanced at Simon, already knowing what he would see. Sure enough, the Dom’s gaze was also locked onto Ronnie. An unfamiliar feeling stirred deep within, but before he could examine it, Adam’s whistle echoed through the club, signaling the end of class.
CHAPTER THREE
A week later Ronnie parked behind Sam’s Auto and shook her head at the guy by the back door.
“Delilah sounds good,” he said when she got out of the car and started toward him.
“She’s doing good.” Ronnie leaned against the wall, and they both stared at the deep-purple ’70 Barracuda she’d named after a legendary temptress. The car was her baby, and the way she purred proved that a mother’s love was an amazing thing.
“What about you?” she asked Zane, the owner of the garage. “Tina know you’re out here sneaking a smoke?”
Sam’s Auto was an old-school style brick garage with four bay doors and service areas that Zane had inherited from his dad, an old stock racing legend. His thirteen-year-old daughter usually worked the counter up front and ran the shop like a mini Dominatrix, making all the guys ask how high when she said jump. Her mother, Zane’s wife, had died from cancer when she was only five years old, and one of the things that was sure to send Tina on a rant that made them all cringe was catching her dad with a cigarette.
“She’s spending the weekend with her grandparents. They just picked her up”
“Ahh,” That explained why he was smoking. Not only was Tina not there to monitor him, but she was with his in-laws. The ones who’d tried to take custody away from him after his wife died because they didn’t approve of a race-car driver raising their grandbaby.
Zane had retired from racing to raise her.
He glanced at Ronnie. �
��Don’t worry. I’ll work the counter so you can work your magic in the bay. We got a tow-in late last night. Need you to figure out why this lady’s car keeps dying on her.”
She pushed off the wall and headed inside. “Sounds good.”
“Do the Caravan’s oil first,” he shouted after her.
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered.
After putting her lunch in the shop fridge, she pulled coveralls over her shorts and tank and went to work. It wasn’t glamorous or as challenging as working on the hot rods and muscle cars the majority of their clientele brought them, but oil changes and wheel balancing helped pay the bills at the garage, and Ronnie could do them blindfolded. The thought of being blindfolded made her nipples tighten, and her mind wandered as her hands went about the work.
The night before Scarlet, had dropped by the apartment with a six pack of beer, and Ronnie had finally told her what she was up to.
“First off,” she said, “I’m so glad there’ll be no more of that Internet dating going on. You know I worried every time you went to meet someone.”
It was true. Scarlet had been her “safe call” every time Ronnie had gone out to meet someone, and though her friend understood why Ronnie did what she did, she hadn’t liked it a bit.
“Second. Adam and Simon both sound delicious, but why the hell have you never told me about Ian before?”
“I don’t know. He left town about six months before I met you, and it seemed pointless to talk about him when I thought I’d ever see him again.”
Scarlet ran a well-manicured finger around the mouth of her beer bottle. “Not so pointless now, is it?”
Ronnie had shrugged, and spilled it all. By the time her friend left, Scarlet was convinced Ian being back in the city, in that club, at this time, meant something special.
Ronnie wasn’t so sure she agreed, but she was excited about tonight and her third training session at the club. They said this was when things would get interesting, but she’d found it all pretty fascinating so far. Last Thursday, everyone had stayed together in one group again as the trainers took turns going over common terms and definitions of things they should know. Things like the differences between a bottom, a submissive, and a slave; hard and soft limits; understanding the stoplight system of safewords. They even covered legal aspects of play and explained the waivers that all members needed to sign when joining the club.
