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A Dom to Love, Honor, and Obey [Masters of Submission 7] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

Page 2

by Jan Bowles


  “I understand that you arrived from Cleveland earlier today?”

  “That’s right, landed about three hours ago. I’m booked in at the Corinthian, and I’ll be staying there for the next two weeks.”

  “You’re here on business?”

  “Hopefully mixed with a little pleasure.” He winked at her, but Andrea took no notice, instead she swiveled a leather bound ledger in his direction.

  “If you can just sign in, Mr. Marshall. Any name you choose is just fine.”

  “I’m okay with my own name. I have nothing to hide.”

  She smiled again, this time showing perfect teeth. “That’s good, but you’d be surprised how many people try to keep their visits to Club Submission a secret.”

  “Tell me about it. It’s the same the world over when you’re in this line of business.”

  Zack studied the book of matches he held in his hand. The name Club Submission was proudly emblazoned in gold lettering laid over a glossy black background. “Hmm, neat marketing trick. I can see this place is run by people who understand the needs of their members.”

  “Club Submission is owned by two brothers, Matthew and Ethan Strong.”

  “And are they good bosses? Do they treat you well? Pay you well?”

  “Yes they do. They treat me very well. I can honestly say, Matt and Ethan are the best bosses I’ve ever worked for.”

  He winked at her again, and again she didn’t take the bait. “You’re not just saying that to keep your job, are you?”

  “Absolutely not, Matthew and Ethan are also good friends of mine.” She stood and pointed at a set of double doors. “If you go that way, Mr. Marshall, you’ll find yourself in the Warm Zone. The Warm Zone is a general meeting place for Club Submission members to unwind and get to know one another. It’s where the bar is situated, should you wish to relax with a drink after your flight.”

  “Warm Zone? I’m guessing the temperature gets hotter the deeper I move into the club?” He emphasized the word deeper, briefly imagining his cock buried inside this sexy blonde receptionist. He knew the meaning of his words weren’t lost on her, but still she didn’t bite.

  “And from the Warm Zone, it’s just a short walk to the Hot Zone, which as you already seem to understand, provides a far more adult environment for our members.”

  “That’s what I’m looking for.”

  He thought he saw those pretty cheeks blush slightly, turning a fetching shade of pink. Of course, it could have been the subdued lighting and wishful thinking, playing tricks with his overactive imagination. Zack figured this petite, sexy lady stood a little over five feet tall, and weighed barely a hundred pounds. Yet, despite this, she was endowed with the most voluptuous, womanly breasts, hips, and thighs he’d seen in some time.

  Mmm, he could just imagine himself ripping that crisp, immaculately pressed white blouse from her trembling body before popping her tits from her bra like peas from a pod.

  The way she looked at him now with those beautiful hazel eyes slightly narrowed, it was as though she could read the carnal thoughts running through his mind.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Marshall?”

  “Yes. You can tell me if you’re part of the scene yourself. I mean, a woman has to be pretty broad minded to work on reception at a place like this.”

  “Indeed she does.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question, Andrea.”

  Seemingly unafraid to hold his gaze, she countered, “Well, maybe this will clarify any ambiguity.” She lifted her left hand, and pointed to her wedding ring. “I’m a happily married woman, and definitely not available. I hope that answers your question.”

  Goddamn, how did he miss something so obvious on that slender marriage finger of hers? Andrea wore a sizeable chunk of gold, which must have cost a few thousand bucks at least.

  She leaned across the reception desk, and he experienced the impact of her expensive scent for the first time, dragging it in with a deep breath. Chanel No. 5?

  “So to reiterate, Mr. Marshall.” She pointed an outstretched finger, which was totally still and without the hint of a tremor. “You go through the double doors, and into the Warm Zone.” She smiled again, and he knew his forward approach and questions hadn’t fazed her one little bit. “Enjoy your time at Club Submission, sir.”

  He smiled, and he knew a tigress, one that deep down wanted to be tamed, lay beneath her demure exterior. “Nice meeting you, Andrea.”

  As Zack made his way down the corridor toward the Warm Zone, he realized that Club Submission employed one feisty lady on reception. One who needed his discipline? She was a lady who needed taming, bringing into line, and if she didn’t have a husband waiting for her at home, he’d have made it his mission to do just that.

  As he pushed open the double doors a disgruntled voice in his head silently berated him. Huh, so the lady has a husband. What do you care? When did you ever care? That little fact has never stopped you slipping between the sheets with a warm, feminine body before. So what’s your problem now?

  The voice in his head spoke the truth. He’d lost count of exactly how many married women he’d bedded over the years. This wasn’t something he was proud of, but he wasn’t ashamed of his nature either, because to his way of thinking he’d been born a predatory male. A man who took his pleasures, sexual or otherwise, wherever he found them.

  Zack consoled himself with the thought that he wasn’t a politically correct, I-feel-your-pain type of guy. No, in some ways he was more of a throwback to a bygone era, when men were men and women were glad of it.

  Just as with the reception area, the lighting in the Warm Zone was conducive to relaxation. He guessed the pretty blonde lady was right about these Matthew and Ethan guys, because as he scanned this new environment, he realized that the Warm Zone was a very comfortable and inviting place to relax before moving on to the Hot Zone. Opulent seating lay scattered around the large room, and an impressive curved black granite bar took pride of place, along with an immaculately dressed and happily smiling barman.

  This guy actually looked like he enjoyed his job, rather than the majority of American citizens who dragged themselves to work each morning so they could receive a paycheck at the end of the month.

  Pretty, scantily clad girls were everywhere, some of them occasionally tossing their hair about in an effort to attract a mate. He smiled to himself. However far technology advanced, the fundamental aspects of human nature remained the same when trying to attract the opposite sex.

  Zack found himself drawn to a leggy blonde who sat on her own in the corner of the room, but somehow managed to refocus, making his way to the bar instead where he pulled up a stool.

  Once settled, he stretched out his arm. “Hi, I’m Zack Marshall. I’ve just flown in from Cleveland.”

  The still-smiling barman shook his hand. “Good to meet you, sir. I’m Todd. What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have a large Jack Daniels on the rocks.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “How long you been working here, Todd?” he asked as the barman began preparing his drink.

  “Just coming up to four years.”

  “Four years, huh? Bet you know the club and everyone in it pretty well by now.”

  “Sure do, Mr. Marshall, but I’m always discreet. That is, if I want to keep my job.”

  Zack took a slug of the amber nectar, feeling it warm his insides on the way down. Boy, I needed that. He never seemed to get enough time to relax these days. It was always work, work, work, and more work that took priority.

  He slid the empty glass across the black granite bar. “Same again, Todd.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Marshall.”

  He’d known Todd for barely five minutes, but he liked him already, and from his experience of fet clubs the world over, Zack knew the guy tending bar was always a mine of information, provided you treated them right.

  Todd refilled his glass and slid it back to him. Still need
ing to wind down some more, Zack took a swallow of his whiskey, a smaller one this time.

  “I understand that Club Submission is owned and run by two brothers?”

  “That’s right. Matthew and Ethan Strong. Great guys.”

  “Great guys, huh? That’s exactly what the pretty blonde receptionist told me.”

  “You mean Andrea?”

  “Yeah, that’s the lady. I’d hoped she was into the scene and unattached, because that’s one pretty woman I’d like to get to know better.”

  Todd suddenly stopped wiping the glass with his cloth, enough for Zack to realize there was more to Andrea than she’d let on. “What makes you think Andrea is in a relationship, Mr. Marshall?”

  “Zack, call me Zack.”

  “What makes you think Andrea’s in a relationship, Zack?”

  “A hunk of gold on her wedding finger. A sign on her forehead that says I’m not available. Oh, and the simple fact that she told me she’s a happily married woman.”

  Todd placed the glass he was polishing on the black granite counter, and then leaned in conspiratorially. “Listen, Zack, I shouldn’t be telling you this, because it’s more than my job’s worth, but Andrea’s husband died five years ago. I never met the guy, but I know from speaking to people here at the club that she and her husband were regulars. Apparently, her husband’s death hit her real hard, and from that day on she’s refused to fully engage with life again. The only reason she’s here at all is because the boss offered her the job on reception, so she could be close to her friends. I’m guessing that Andrea was trying to scare you away, just like she’s done with every other guy who’s shown an interest in her since Joe died.”

  Zack had been right, bartenders were a mine of information, and Todd was no exception. “Ah, I see. I knew there was something that wasn’t quite right, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”

  Todd leaned in close again. “You didn’t hear it from me, Zack. In fact, you didn’t hear it all.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me, buddy.” Zack glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go. It was only a flying visit tonight. I just wanted to check the club out, and see if it was worth paying a second visit.”

  “And is it?”

  “After what you’ve just told me, absolutely, because that is one exquisite creature hiding away behind the reception desk.”

  “Good luck, Zack. Believe me, many have tried, and all have failed. From what I know of Andrea, she adored her husband so much that she won’t even look at another guy, let alone reprise her role as a willing submissive.”

  “So she and her husband shared a D/s relationship?” The thought that Andrea was a natural submissive excited him, making him want her all the more.

  “That’s what I hear, Zack. I believe that Joe introduced her to the scene in the first place. Like I say, he died about a year before I started working here, so I didn’t know the guy personally.”

  Zack downed the remnants of his Jack Daniels, and then placed the empty glass on the counter. He then handed the helpful barman a fifty-dollar bill. “Thanks for the information, buddy, and I hope to see you again.”

  As he strolled contentedly from the Warm Zone, Zack made a bet with himself. He’d bed the beautiful, yet reluctant receptionist before he had to return to Cleveland in two weeks’ time. He’d make it his mission.

  Chapter Two

  For some strange reason that she didn’t fully understand, Andrea held her breath as the tall dark stranger strode purposefully toward her. His silver-gray eyes possessed an almost laser stare as they locked on her. She estimated Zack Marshall to be in his late thirties. The man had a manner about him that exuded confidence and self-belief, mixed with just a hint of arrogance.

  Just like Joe?

  His jet-black hair was short and neat, and she knew enough about designer clothes to realize that his suit, far from being off the peg, was in fact hand tailored, and cost several thousand dollars at least.

  As he closed in on her, she noticed his back was straight and his shoulders broad. When he towered over her, she figured he stood about six two, or maybe six three, and weighed in the region of two hundred pounds. His impressive physique showed no signs of decadent living whatsoever, because his stomach was flat and his chest powerful.

  Andrea figured this guy ate the right foods and worked out on a regular basis, because he bore absolutely no resemblance to the average, overweight American she passed in the street each day on her way to work. Strangely, she found she needed to compose herself before speaking, letting out a little cough so her voice didn’t tremble.

  “Leaving us so soon, Mr. Marshall? I hope Club Submission didn’t disappoint?”

  He stopped and smiled at her. “Certainly not. With a charming lady such as yourself running the reception, how could it?”

  He obviously knew how to flatter a woman, and she liked the way the laughter lines crinkled his eyes when he smiled. Andrea wondered if she’d misjudged him as being overly brash and insistent, when he’d first entered the club?

  “You say you’re here on business, Mr. Marshall?” She surprised herself when she showed an interest in the life of the man standing before her.

  “Call me Zack. All my friends do. In fact, I insist that you call me Zack, because I have a gut feeling that you and I are going to get to know one another a whole lot better in the future.”

  For some strange reason she couldn’t stop her hand fluttering to her throat as she let out another little cough. “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Okay, Zack.” She felt sure she blushed like a teenage girl on her first date.

  “In answer to your question, I run an aeronautical company located on the shores of Lake Eerie. The order books are full, and business is booming right now, so much so that I need to expand.” He winked at her, and this time she kind of liked the attention. “I’ve decided that the second factory for Marshall Aeronautical will be built right here in Boston.”

  He looked her up and down with pure sexual intent showing in his silver-gray eyes. “And from what I’ve seen of Boston so far, it does not disappoint me, Andrea.”

  His voice and its delivery were cultured. His choice of words articulate and measured. However, mixed in with his velvety tone, was the merest hint of a Detroit accent. It was barely noticeable, but it was there all right, and it gave her an insight into the achingly handsome man who now stood mere inches from her.

  Achingly handsome? Did she really just think such thoughts?

  She surprised herself, because since Joe’s tragic death some five years ago, she’d thought she’d lost the desire and ability to think of men in a passionate, sexual way. Well, she was wrong, because this intriguing stranger was having a powerful effect on her libido.

  He stared at her for what seemed an inordinately long time, those silver-gray eyes seeming to bore deep into her soul, reigniting long extinguished embers of passion.

  “Are you okay, princess?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m absolutely fine. Why do you ask?” She knew she’d lost the composure she’d ably demonstrated barely a half hour ago, but there was something about this guy, something she liked, but something that frightened her, too. Zack Marshall was one hundred percent the dominant, and Andrea had no doubt in her mind that given the opportunity, he’d control her, just like he’d controlled the other submissives in his life. She just knew it. Just like any other sub knew, when in the presence of a real Master.

  He smiled again, and she now knew he held the upper hand. “It’s just that you’re looking a little flushed, and your breathing seems faster than it should be.”

  Trying to counter his domination, she feebly replied, “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.” With his fingers spread wide, he placed the palm of his hand on her chest, and for some crazy reason she didn’t push him away. In the past, she hadn’t hesitated to slap the faces of men, who tried it on with her, but not now, because she was literally putty in th
is guy’s hands. Those all-knowing eyes seeming to control her more with each passing second.

  “There, I was right all along. See how fast it beats. Surely your heart shouldn’t beat so quickly unless you’re feeling unwell?”

  Summoning her reserves of willpower, she finally backed away from him. “No, as I said, I’m absolutely fine, and if my husband finds out that you’ve laid a finger on me, then you’ll be in big trouble.”

  “Is that so.” The way he spoke, she knew this guy wasn’t afraid of anything or anybody, and to prove it, he took a step toward her before feathering his hand across her cheek, trailing his fingers between her lips, which for some reason she found herself obediently parting for him. “In that case, Andrea, it will just have to be our little secret, won’t it?”

  She felt guilty for lying, for telling him that her husband was still alive, but it was a strategy that had worked well in the past, and had saved her a lot of hassle and explanation as to why she was unwilling to enter into new relationships. Of course, she could tell him the truth right now, but she’d probably never see him again once he’d flown back to Cleveland. So what would be the point?

  For the first time in almost five years, Andrea felt those sexual feelings return. Those wonderful erotic sensations that every woman is entitled to. She knew her pussy was wet, and she knew that he knew it, too, because he toyed with her, like a cat toyed with a mouse, and may God damn her for it, but she liked it, enjoying the attention he paid her. For the first time since Joe’s death, she felt like a real flesh and blood woman again.

  He wasn’t finished with her yet, because his eyes held an intensity that frightened and excited her in equal measure. She knew that Zack Marshall was the real deal, and a million miles away from the pretend Doms who visited Club Submission once, never to be seen again.

  Still caressing her cheek and lips with his fingertips, he matter-of-factly added, “I’ll also be buying another house right here in Boston. I’m a hands-on type of guy, so I’ll need to be close to my new factory in order to sort things out should the shit hit the fan. I’ll need someone who knows the area well, someone who can point me in the direction of the best neighborhoods.”

 

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