Michaels, Skye - Kelly's Challenge [Le Club 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

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Michaels, Skye - Kelly's Challenge [Le Club 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2

by Skye Michaels


  “Are you kidding? Tailgating, drinking champagne, dressing up, wearing hats, stomping divots, the girls will love it!” Trent added.

  There was a knock, and the door to the library opened. A tall, slender girl with black hair and stunning green eyes entered the library carrying a manila folder. Justin’s breath caught in his throat as she walked to the desk where Jason sat. She was exquisite, and he was mesmerized.

  “I have the current list of employees you requested, Mr. Steele,” she said with an open smile. Her voice was soft but not diffident. She had a self-assured and confident air about her that was at the same time somewhat vulnerable. It touched something in Justin that he had not felt in a long time.

  “Thanks Kelly,” Jason said with a smile as she put down the folder and turned to leave. “Efficient as always.”

  Chapter Two

  Kelly Anderson, assistant to Anne Sutton, the club’s manager, was walking to work on a glorious Monday morning. It was cool under the dappled shade of the ancient live oak trees lining Fort King Street, and she wore a battered bomber jacket, confiscated from one of her several older brothers, over her casual work attire. Kelly usually walked or sometimes rode her bike to work since she lived in a small apartment on the top floor of one of the many converted Victorian homes in the Historic District not far from Le Club. After graduating from the University of Florida with a business degree, she had moved into her own apartment although she remained extremely close to her large family.

  Kelly was tall and slender with large green eyes fringed with thick black lashes. She was twenty-six years old and had shoulder-length, straight, black hair cut in a swing style. Although employed at the very private and exclusive sex club for over a year, she had a conservative outlook and modest demeanor. While she was willing to “live and let live” and appreciated the really great, well-paying job at the club, she did not get this BDSM business at all. It was far too kinky for her taste. She would never consider anyone her “Master.” She would call the members “sir” or “mister,” but she wasn’t going to call them “Master.” And she wasn’t the least bit curious about this BDSM stuff. Having been raised in a traditional, middle-class home in the small central Florida town, her values and sexual orientation were more traditional, although sometimes she just had to chuckle at the outrageous attire of some of the members. The atmosphere of Le Club, however, was elegant and laid back. The club culture was not particularly extreme and non-participating employees were not made to feel uncomfortable. Kelly arrived at the tall, wooden, electronic gates of the walled, heavily wooded Laurel Oak Estate and entered her security code. The ten-foot stone wall which completely surrounded the property was topped with surveillance cameras and she always had the feeling that an Orwellian “Big Brother” was watching. As she entered the estate she gazed past the formal English gardens down the long, sloping expanse of lawn to her favorite view. She watched the black swans gliding on the tranquil pond.

  The new member, Justin Devereau, was performing his morning ritual beside the pond. Kelly watched, spellbound, as she had every morning since Justin had arrived at Le Club. He was extremely graceful and elegant in a totally lethal way, and he moved like a dancer. He was tall and his body was sleek and well-muscled but without the bulkiness produced by weight training.

  Kelly caught her breath. He was just gorgeous, but she was not comfortable with the butterflies he caused in her belly.

  * * * *

  Justin was aware of Kelly standing at the top of the hill as he completed the Japanese katas, combat drills or forms. He performed these every morning in conjunction with the stylized sword training using the gleaming katana sword. The kata ritual helped Justin center himself and order his day. The ritual had a calming Zen-like effect on him and somehow helped to ease the grief and guilt he had been living with for eight months. He looked up the lawn and saw Kelly watching him. Now that is a beautiful woman. He bowed to her formally as he finished and sheathed his sword.

  Justin’s practice of several disciplines of Japanese martial arts, including kendo, “the way of the sword,” and kykdM, “the way of the bow,” dated back to his early teenage years, and he was now a master. But more important to him than the physical prowess inherent in the speed and power required to master the kata forms, was the kokoro, or “heart,” character, attitude, and code of honor of the samurai way of life.

  As he approached Kelly, he said, “Good morning, Ms. Anderson. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  “Please don’t let me interrupt your workout, Mr. Devereau.” Even wearing the loose-fitting, black pants and traditional gi, with his long, wavy, dark hair pulled back in a tail tied with a twist of leather, he had the powerful aura of a jungle cat. It was clear that this man could be very dangerous, although the glow in his brandy-colored eyes was warm and appealing. The perspiration in the dark hair arrowing down his chest and disappearing into the folds of the gi caught the sunlight. “No problem. I’m done for today. May I walk you back to the house? Have you had breakfast?”

  “Thank you, but I’m a little late for work,” she fibbed. He could see that he made her a little nervous. Actually, he thought, he made her a lot nervous. He was aware that the testosterone-laden sexuality that rolled off him might be disconcerting to a less experienced woman.

  “Then perhaps we can have dinner sometime. I’m new in town and at loose ends until my house is ready for occupancy. Calleigh Steele is overseeing the renovations at my new farm and I’m staying in the Ming Suite for a month or two.”

  “Thank you, sir, but I don’t socialize with the members,” she replied with a tentative smile. Kelly didn’t want to offend him.

  “I see,” he said. Justin found her very attractive in a fresh-faced, innocent way, though a little timid. I will have to ask Steele or Trent about her. She seems very nervous. He smiled. “Well, have a pleasant day. I have work at the farm that I need to see to.”

  Chapter Three

  Several days after having drinks at the club, Jason took Justin up on his offer and dropped by Justin’s farm for a little polo practice.

  Jason reached down from the back of his bay thoroughbred polo pony and thwacked the polo ball with his mallet, passing it to Justin, who was thundering along beside him down the practice field. Justin moved the ball downfield and then passed it back again to Jason. The drill work was satisfying as was the feel of the muscular, very fit, and eager thoroughbred gelding under him.

  Jason said, “God, Justin, I have missed this!” He had grown up on a thoroughbred breeding farm and had ridden as a kid. Despite living in the midst of horse country and having just purchased a new farm of his own, Jason had little time to enjoy riding. He had not played polo in several years. His law practice, club business, and new family life kept him very busy.

  “You’re not too out of shape for a desk jockey lawyer,” Justin said with a grin as they broke from dead gallops down to spirited canters and finally to trots at the end of the practice field before the goal posts.

  “Give me a break, Justin. Some of us have to work for a living,” Jason returned as he tried to regain his breath.

  “Well, come out and drill with me any time, or just bring Calleigh out to ride. I have a couple of older ponies who enjoy a calm trail ride occasionally,” Justin replied as he removed his helmet and untied the leather thong securing his wavy, dark ponytail.

  “Might do it,” Jason said. “I have time for a beer, and then I have to get back to the office. This has been a great lunch break.”

  As they walked the ponies back to the barn to cool them out, Justin said casually, “So what’s Ms. Anderson’s story? Does she play?”

  “Polo or BDSM?” Jason quipped. “Not polo, that I know of, and definitely not BDSM! She’s one of the nonparticipating employees at the club. As far as I know, she has never shown any interest whatsoever in the Lifestyle.”

  “Any boyfriend or significant other?” Justin inquired further.

  “Again, not that I know of. She�
��s rather private. She’s polite but distant. I have never seen her socialize with any of the members or their guests. And I have never heard the word ‘Master’ pass her lips!”

  “Ah, I love a challenge!” Justin said with a smile.

  “Don’t go harassing club employees, JD,” Jason replied with a frown.

  “Do you honestly think I have ever had to harass a woman?” Justin replied with a devilish grin. “That’s not my style, man.”

  “True. We just have to be very careful about sexual harassment issues in this situation.”

  “No problem. I’ll think about it. I’m not sure if I want to get involved in anything right now myself. I’m still dealing with my feelings for Alexa. Hey, let me introduce you to The Jester! He gets a little jealous when I ride someone else and he’ll be wanting some treats,” Justin said as they dismounted and handed the ponies over to grooms for unsaddling, hosing down, and walking out.

  The gorgeous, black Friesian stallion hung his head over the stall door and whinnied for attention as soon as he saw Justin walk into the barn. He was seventeen hands high, powerfully muscled with a glossy black coat and a long, wavy, black mane and tail. He had the Friesian trademark feathers or long hair on his lower legs that flew in the wind when he ran.

  “Hey, big boy,” Justin crooned as he reached into his pocket for sugar cubes.

  “Justin, he is magnificent. I want to see you ride him. I know Calleigh will fall in love with him!”

  “I’d be happy to give a demonstration. We’ve been working with the sword and bow and he is really coming along. I can notch an arrow and shoot at a dead gallop now, controlling him with just my knees. I need to find someone to train with who can use a sword on horseback though. I have been using stationary dummies for training, but I want to move on to live competition.”

  “Now that is a skill set I would not think would be easy to locate.” Jason laughed.

  “You’re right about that! Not too many people are sword experts, never mind on horseback. Jester’s dressage training has been a real asset in preparing him for Yoseikan Bajutsu. A lot of the high-level dressage movements have battle applications. Passage, piaffe, canter pirouettes, half pass, and tempe lead changes, to name a few, would all be movements needed on the battlefield. All of that made Jester especially adaptable for use in Japanese martial arts on horseback.”

  “Where would you learn Yoseikan Bajutsu?” Jason asked. “I’ve never even heard of it before.”

  “The Ecuries du Grand Royal in Belgium maintains a school for this sport, and I trained there, as well as at a yabusame school in Japan, where I learned the art of shooting the whistling arrows, or kaburaya, at full gallop. Three targets are used representing the three kingdoms of Korea. Japanese antipathy toward the Koreans goes back a long way!”

  “That’s interesting. I’d like to see a demonstration.”

  “Are you interested in trying it? I promise not to decapitate you!”

  “I don’t think I’ll volunteer for dummy duty!” Jason laughed.

  The Japanese equestrian sports and martial arts gave Justin a feeling of being grounded in traditions going back hundreds of years. Even though his personal family history in Louisiana was long and illustrious, his unconventional childhood had left him to deal with some difficult issues.

  Chapter Four

  Kelly had continued to watch him from the top of the lawn every morning, but Justin merely bowed in her direction and then ignored her. He sheathed his sword and started up the incline toward the house. “Good morning, Ms. Anderson,” he said. “Another spectacular day. Would you care to join me for coffee this morning?”

  “Oh…I couldn’t,” she stammered, flustered as always by his overwhelming, masculine presence.

  “Ms. Anderson, it’s just coffee, not a commitment,” he said with his soft, New Orleans drawl. “I’m planning on eating breakfast, not you, and I would really like some company.”

  “You make me feel very foolish, Mr. Devereau.”

  “Well, then join me for a cup of coffee, or better yet, some breakfast and we can feel foolish together,” Justin said with his Southern manners and most charming, one-hundred-watt smile. He took her arm and led her toward the table on the veranda before she could protest further.

  When they were seated and he had ordered coffee and a huge breakfast for both of them he said, “So tell me about yourself.”

  “Not much to tell. I’ve lived in Ocala all my life except when I went to Gainesville for college. I have a big family and they all live here. My dad’s a pediatrician and my mom’s a housewife. I’ve worked at the club since it opened and really enjoy my job. Anne Sutton is a great boss.”

  “Any boyfriend or other significant relationship?” he inquired.

  “Not since college. Tell me about your farm. I’ve heard it’s spectacular.” She really didn’t want to get into anything too personal with him, not that she had all that much to tell.

  “It will be. It’s called Devereau Plantation South. It’s located on U.S. 27 in Friendship. At the moment, the house is torn up and the only places that aren’t in an uproar are the barns and pastures. The polo fields have been graded and seeded and are coming along nicely. My ponies arrived yesterday.”

  “Ponies?” she asked.

  “Polo ponies, smallish but very fit and tough thoroughbreds. We like them closer to the ground as it’s easier to reach the ball. I brought down twenty-four for the polo team I am planning to field.”

  * * * *

  “Wow, that must be a ton of work. I had a horse in high school, and I know how much work goes into taking care of just one,” Kelly said. Not to mention the expense! Wow, even in Ocala where the whole town revolves around the horse industry, the expense would be tremendous.

  “Well, I can’t take credit for all that myself. I have four grooms, a barn manager, and various other employees.” He grinned. “I do, however, usually take care of Jester myself. Jester is my war horse. He hasn’t taken to any of the grooms, and he’s very picky about who handles him. Perhaps you would like to come out and ride with me some afternoon,” he said craftily. It was common knowledge that once a horsewoman, always a horsewoman. And the best way to a horsewoman’s heart was through a horse!

  “I don’t know…” Kelly was wary. This guy is clever, but it would be so nice to be on a horse again. She had missed riding and just being in the barn and around horses. She had missed the unique smell of a stable, the hay and pine shavings. It got into your blood and never really left. She had to give up her horse when she started college, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to get another. She had recently been considering whether she could afford the expense, not to mention the time it took to keep a horse of her own again. She could feel herself wavering.

  He could see she was tempted. “Come on. Don’t be a chicken. When was the last time you rode?”

  “It’s been a few years.” She struggled with the decision and then said, “Okay. I would really love to ride. That would be great.”

  “When is a good time? Maybe Friday afternoon?” It seemed to Kelly that Justin wasn’t a man to waste time or a good opportunity.

  They settled on Friday at noon. Kelly was really excited and the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering around and bumping into each other like mad. Am I excited to be getting on a horse again, or just to be spending time with Justin Devereau?

  When she got to her desk, she was already having doubts. “Anne, I just agreed to go riding with Justin Devereau at his farm on Friday afternoon, and I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.”

  “He seems like a really nice man, always polite and a total gentleman. I don’t see why you can’t enjoy some time with him. It really has nothing to do with what goes on here you know. Anything of a personal nature would be completely consensual and totally up to you,” Anne replied with a smile. “I know the BDSM thing makes you a little uncomfortable. But, I have to say, I haven’t seen him ‘scene’ with anyone while he has been here. Ha
ve a great time. You haven’t had any time off in a while.”

  “Thanks, and oh, yeah! The BDSM thing makes me way uncomfortable! But I am really dying to ride again.” Or so she was telling herself. What a fibber! Getting to know Justin Devereau is a huge temptation. As to the BDSM issue, I’m not sure whether my stand on that might not waver for the right person and under the right circumstances. Kelly’s conventional, small-Southern-town background had severely limited her sexual outlook and overall worldview. Her experiences in life were limited. Other than a few insignificant interludes in college, she was mostly inexperienced, and an unconventional lifestyle was not something she had ever seriously considered for herself. She wasn’t small-minded or rigid, but a change in perspective would take some thought and was not completely out of the question if she were honest with herself.

  Chapter Five

  Friday morning Kelly awoke early with a little twitch of excitement in her stomach. Knowing she wouldn’t fall back to sleep, she got up and dressed warmly in comfortable, old, buff riding breeches that fit her long legs like a second skin, a red silk sweater, black leather vest, and well-worn, high, black riding boots left over from high school days. She straightened her apartment, had breakfast, and was ready to go by 10:30. The appointed meeting time was noon. She would have to cool her jets for a while, but she was so excited her stomach was jumping.

  Kelly threw her English jumping saddle into the small trunk of her little green VW Bug, affectionately known as “Kermit,” and drove north on U.S. Highway 27. The drive was pleasant after she passed the commercial areas off the interstate and got out into rolling horse country and heavily wooded land.

  About twenty miles north of the interstate, she pulled off the highway and up to the security gates at the entrance to Devereau Plantation South. The gates opened in front of her car and she drove through. The vista was breathtaking. The winding driveway ran between well-pruned oak trees trimmed in what appeared to be white twinkle lights beside white-fenced pastures where some good-looking horses grazed. Boy, this driveway would be spectacular after dark. She followed the driveway around to the barn closest to the highway as instructed by Justin. Apparently, there were other barns as well and a residence that was not visible from the road.

 

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