Her hazel eyes widened, and she took a step back. Hands in front. Clenched already. “Yes, Master Sam.”
He sighed. Sometimes he enjoyed his “eat babies for breakfast” reputation, but sometimes it got old. Eventually the girl would discover that sadists tended to be politer than regular Doms—at least, when not in a scene. After all, if a sadist was nasty, then how would he get anyone to play with him? “Did you want a session with Whitney?”
She shook her head.
“Say it aloud, girl. Did you?”
“No,” she whispered.
Might as well use his damned scary rep. If she could say no to him, she should be able to say it to anyone. “I can’t hear you, missy,” he snapped.
“No.” Still a whisper.
Her wrist cuff included a yellow ribbon to show she liked mild pain. “Bend over the bar stool.”
Her eyes widened, but after a second she obeyed.
When he forcefully slapped her boy-shorts-covered ass, she squeaked. He said, “Stand up.”
Her face was red, more from embarrassment than from being hurt.
“Did you want to scene with the Domme?”
Her bottom lip quivered. “No.” Still too faint.
“Until I hear a loud no from you, I’ll continue.” He gave her a heartless look. “This wouldn’t be the first time I spanked someone for hours.”
She gulped when he pointed to the stool, but bent obediently.
He delivered a swat hard enough to sting his palm, hard enough to make her yelp. When she stood, he asked, “Did you want to scene with the Domme?”
“No!”
Nice and loud. “Repeat that.”
“No!”
“Do you want me to spank you again?”
“No!”
“Good.” He looked upward. “Did the ceiling fall because you said no to a Dom?”
She blinked, and her mouth dropped open. “I guess not.”
“Tell me the point of this lesson.”
“I should have told her no.”
“Right. Next time, say no with enough assertiveness that a Dom doesn’t think you’re saying yes.” Sam tapped her cheek with his finger, pleased she didn’t shy away. “Do better or next time I’ll use a cane.”
“Yes, Sir.” She took a step away, then another. “Thank you, Sir, for the lesson.”
He crossed his arms over his chest as she hurried away. She got halfway across the room before she reached around to rub her ass. He grinned.
WEARING A HALTER top and a short wraparound skirt, Linda sat between Gabi and Kim, watching Sam. As he’d delivered a hard swat to a tattooed submissive, she’d realized everything about the Dom was sexy—his severe expression, harsh face, square chin, corded wrists, lean muscles. Black tough-guy clothes, a big black belt, and boots. All that darkness made his ash-gray hair and pale eyes seem eerie. When he crossed his arms over his chest and watched the young woman flee, Linda gave a little sigh.
“What’s up?” Kim eyed her and popped a tiny quiche in her mouth.
Just lusting after a man. Linda cleared her throat and went for a diversion. “Have you ever noticed what a guy’s posture and demeanor say about him?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Kim said.
“Well.” Linda looked around, then nodded at the giant, craggy-faced bartender. “He moves like he’d not only fight hard, but he’d enjoy the heck out of it. A brawler.”
Gabi snorted. “You got Master Cullen down. What about that one?” She nodded at a brutal-looking, darker Dom with a scarred face.
Linda studied him. No expression, but his eyes never stopped moving, and he stood as if… “Get in his way, and he’d flatten you without thinking twice. Then he’d step over your body without looking back.”
“Damn, you got Master Nolan figured out too.” Kim grinned.
“Working as a shopkeeper, you learn to read people quickly.”
Gabi gave her a sly smile. “What about Master Sam?”
“I’ve met him, so it’d be cheating.” Her lips curved up. “He wouldn’t start a fight, wouldn’t enjoy it, but wouldn’t back down either. And he’d definitely finish the job.”
Kim nodded. “That’s him.”
“Then he’d kick the guy, just to enjoy hearing him groan,” Linda added.
Gabi choked on her drink, coughing hard enough to attract attention.
“Way to go, dummy. Cullen saw us,” Kim hissed.
Gabi held up her hand, managed a breath, then wheezed, “Oh, please, as if Ben wouldn’t have already called your Master? Didn’t you tell Raoul we might visit the Shadowlands?”
Kim’s eyes widened. “But…but Ben didn’t tell on us before.”
“After the last time we sneaked in, the guys undoubtedly had a chat with him.” Gabi assumed a smug expression. “Which is why I asked permission.”
Linda frowned, trying to catch up. Wasn’t Ben the oversize security guard in the entry? “You’re going to get in trouble? Just for being here?”
“Oh yeah.” Kim glared at her friend. “You little brat.”
“Hey, you guys. I heard you might come by.” A short, buxom blonde with sea-green eyes dropped into a chair before smiling across the table. “You must be Linda. I’m Jessica.” After swiping one of Gabi’s pizza rolls, she popped the tidbit in her mouth. “Mmm.”
“Have some more,” Gabi said and pushed the plate over.
“Can’t.” Jessica’s mouth turned down. “Z said when I wander around, I’ve been forgetting who I belong to.” She patted her dark green corset. “He said he’d make sure I feel as if he’s always got his arm around me…and pulled the strings so tight I can barely breathe.”
“That’s a new one.” Kim looked worried. “Hopefully he won’t share that trick with Raoul.”
Belong to? Linda spotted the engagement ring on Jessica’s hand. “You’re engaged to Master Z?” Are you insane?
Jessica laughed. “He’s not as scary in daily life.” After a second, she amended, “Well, sometimes he’s scarier.”
“How did you know we might come here?” Kim asked.
“Let’s see.” Jessica squinted in thought. “Gabi called Marcus. When Marcus called Dan about some serial rapist, he mentioned Gabi’s plans. Dan told Kari, and Kari told me, and I told Z.”
“Drown it. Raoul’s probably heard the news from at least three people.” Kim tipped back her head to stare at the ceiling. “I am doomed.”
Linda bit her lip, guilt dropping onto her shoulders. “Will you really get in trouble?”
“Not if I move fast. Time for preventative action.” Kim whipped out her cell phone, turned it on, and hit speed dial. “Hey, Master? Gabi and I actually convinced Linda to visit Shadowlands. I didn’t think she’d go for it. She’s so stubborn.” She winked at Linda. “But she agreed, so we’re here, and I wanted to make sure you knew.”
Through the phone, Raoul’s voice was deep and smooth, although Linda couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Kim winced. “Well, yes, we did plan to ask her if—” Pause. “No, I didn’t think—” Pause. “Yes, but—” Pause. Kim’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, Master.” She turned the phone off.
“You’re dead meat, girlfriend.” Jessica shook her head with a suppressed giggle. “What’s he going to do?”
“Don’t know, but he sure wasn’t pleased.”
“I’m sorry,” Linda said. “Maybe I can talk to him?”
“Nah, it would have happened sooner or later.” Kim shrugged. “We’re still kind of…defining…how much control he gets. He gives in on some things, me on others. But I got the feeling that being here without him isn’t something he’ll negotiate about, you know?”
“Well, he’s incredibly possessive of you, so having you loose in a club full of hungry Doms?” Jessica snickered. “No, you’re not going to win.”
Linda glanced at Gabi to see if she agreed, but the counselor’s attention was elsewhere. “Something wrong?”
“No. I
’m just watching…” She pointed.
As Linda looked, her stomach got a weird “bottom dropping out” sensation. Near the bar, Sam had his hand curled around a black submissive’s nape.
Linda clenched her jaw against the nasty shot of jealousy. He’s not mine. I turned him away. Rationalization didn’t help. Darn the man. “He’s going to do a scene with her?”
Jessica shook her head. “No way. Uzuri doesn’t even like light pain. No, I bet he arranged a scene for her.”
Gabi looked over. “Why would he do that?”
“Oh, Z gave him the trainees tonight. Said Sam had avoided supervising them for long enough.” She grinned. “Probably pissed that sadist off a bit, huh?”
Linda couldn’t take her gaze from Sam. How many men would be comfortable guiding a woman by his grip on her neck? But he didn’t look puffed up. Wasn’t strutting. When they stopped, he kept a hand on her shoulder as he talked to a Dom in his thirties. He spoke to Uzuri, then the Dom again, for all the world as if he was arbitrating. When the Dom and Uzuri started conversing, Sam nodded and walked away.
In the movies, cowboys had a rolling gait, soldiers a predatory one. Sam’s stride was somewhere between the two, like an ominous saunter.
What would happen when he noticed her? Her muscles tensed in anticipation. As her fingernails dug into her arm, the sting added to the sizzle under her skin, and she realized what she was doing. The perversion of pain. Her mouth tightened.
Gabi’s gaze met hers. “Linda, if it’s wrong to enjoy pain, does that mean I’m not supposed to like being tied up? Because I really do.” Gabi gave her a smile of understanding.
Linda relaxed. Gabi was just as sweet as Kim was. And wasn’t it odd that they both seemed so normal? A therapist. A biologist. “What do you do for a living, Jessica?”
“You’re new, aren’t you? Bet you’re suffering from the ‘ordinary people don’t play like this syndrome.” Jessica’s eyes lit with laughter. “Try this on for size. I’m an accountant.”
“No way.”
“Oh yeah. Can’t get stodgier.” Considering, Jessica tapped her lips. “Kari’s a schoolteacher; Andrea owns a cleaning business, Beth a landscaping biz. Sally’s getting her master’s degree, Uzuri over there is an executive in a department store, and Rainie manages a tow-truck chain.”
Linda leaned back in disbelief. Regular jobs; regular people. And why not? Why should she think they’d be odd? She pulled in a breath, feeling like an idiot. How many times had she unthinkingly accepted her father’s narrow-minded opinions as truth—in this case, that anyone wanting more than the missionary position must be creepy? “Thank you. That helps.”
“Hey, we’ve all been at that place,” Jessica said.
“Uh-oh, Linda.” Gabi waggled her eyebrows. “You’ve been spotted by the man, Ms. Shopkeeper. Are you going to run?”
Even though her stomach suddenly felt as if she’d swallowed every butterfly in Florida, Linda assumed a haughty expression…and carefully didn’t look around. “You children might run, but I’m too mature to give in to fear.”
“You’re so full of bullshit.” Kim glanced over her shoulder. “Yep, the sadist has his eyes on you.” She shivered. “Sorry, but he still scares me a little.”
Like a hot spotlight centered upon her, his attention made her insides quiver. Breathe. Look dignified. Relax. When she unclenched her fingers, they were gooey—she’d totally squashed the pizza roll she’d picked up. With a huffed laugh, she wiped off her fingers. Way to look indifferent, dummy.
A glance at the others revealed Kim trying to smother her laughter and Gabi smiling encouragement.
Jessica gave her a covert thumbs-up. “Stay strong and make him work for it.”
Why did she feel as if she’d dived off a mile-high cliff and was about to hit the water? With a final gulp of air, Linda turned her head.
Ice-blue eyes trapped her gaze. She realized she’d risen to her feet. Heavens, how does he do that? Even from a distance, she could see how suppressed laughter made his mouth quirk. He curved his index finger. Come here.
Well, this was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
It’s just a test. To see what was what. Maybe.
But as she walked up to him, the warmth in his gaze made her feel…beautiful.
Chapter Ten
Was she not the most beautiful woman in the club? Resting his hip on a bar stool, Sam watched Linda approach. Her brown eyes were wide, nervous, but not terrified. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth. He held out his hand, pleased when she didn’t hesitate to give him hers. Soft skin, small bones. “Why are you here, girl?”
“I-I…” Her chin firmed. “I’m trying to decide if being…different…has a place in my life.”
“Different.” Pissed him off the way she saw being unique as being wrong. “Are you talking about being a masochist? Or being a singer? Or a submissive? Or smarter than most? Or maybe being talented at basketry?”
Her spine straightened. “It’s not a joke.”
“I’m not joking.” He curved his hand firmly around her nape as he’d done with Uzuri. Linda instinctively tried to take a step back. When his grip tightened, halting her, he enjoyed the hell out of the way she shivered.
Then he watched as she didn’t move, yet silently, internally fought his control.
And he watched as she surrendered. To him.
When he leaned down and took her lips, not permitting her to withdraw, her mouth softened and opened.
My Linda. He pulled her between his legs and molded her so tightly against him that her full breasts flattened against his chest. Amazing how different one woman could feel from another. Why the hell did they all want to be alike? “Cut out all the different parts of yourself, and your personality will have the texture of mashed potatoes.”
She blinked, then burst out laughing.
Damn, he liked her laugh. “What?”
“Just…aren’t you a meat and potatoes sort of guy?”
Had him there. When she rubbed her forehead on his shoulder, he remembered how sweetly she’d snuggled against him in the night. She was a person who liked to touch.
She looked up at him, her eyes serious. “My dad was a fire-and-brimstone preacher, and my husband old-fashioned. My town is small and conservative. This isn’t easy for me, but I’m trying.”
“Good enough.” He put his hand under her chin, feeling the softness of her flesh. Older, not tight and hard, and she was so goddamned appealing she could break his heart. He didn’t require some eighteen-year-old to make his cock hard. He wanted a woman, one with lines in her face that said she’d done some living and had learned to cry. And to laugh.
A tiny trembling ran through her when she met his gaze, and the chemistry between them blazed up like dry wood in a wind. “Remember the safe word here?”
Her tongue touched her pink lips. “Red.”
“Good.” He ran his finger across her lower lip, circling her mouth with the wetness. “I’m glad you didn’t wear a mask, girl. I like to see more than your body. Don’t wear one again.”
A tremor ran through her, and a glint of fear showed in her eyes before she whispered, “Yes, Sir.”
Her trust sent warmth through him. “Good girl.” So what area was available for a scene? Releasing Linda from his arms, he checked. The stocks were free or…the picture frame was empty. “Cullen.”
The bartender looked over.
“Can you grab my bag?”
Cullen set a bottled mineral water in front of a Domme, then reached under the bar and brought out Sam’s leather toy bag. “Have fun, you two.”
“Thanks.” Sam took a grip on Linda’s nape again. “Come along, girl.” As the heavy silk of her hair flowed over his fingers, he caught her clean lavender-and-tangy-citrus scent. Made him want to pick her up and rub her skin over his.
But he could wait.
He led her to a wooden structure built like an extra-tall and double-wide door frame. “Cullen calls this th
e picture frame because of the way it displays a submissive.”
She eyed the chains and bolts studded around the inside of the frame, then glanced back toward the bar. “He’s not as easygoing as he acts, is he?”
“Last submissive who annoyed him got strapped to the bar.” With a bucket of ice cubes beside her for anyone that wanted to play. He grinned, remembering the sub’s appalled shrieks.
He glanced down at his redhead. Might as well give her a few choices in the game—or let her think she was getting some. After setting his bag on a chair, Sam started unzipping the inside dividers. Opened the one for the toys. Clamps, yes. Gags or blindfold? No. Why deprive himself of hearing her screams, of seeing tears in her eyes? That section stayed closed.
After moving a rectangular tray table beside the chair, he told Linda, “Set out what’s in the bag.” He touched one end of the table. “The toys you’d most like me to use go here. Work your way to the other end and your least favorite toys. If something is a hard limit, leave it in the bag.”
A sweet crease of worry appeared between her red-brown brows. “And you’ll start at the good end and work your way through to the bad?”
“Nope.” He stepped close enough that her breasts grazed his chest, and she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. “Just lets me know what will bother you and what won’t. I choose what. And when.”
“But—”
He smiled into her vulnerable eyes. “Trust me to know how much you can take, missy. And to push you to that point.”
Even as the hint of anxiety appeared in her eyes, her nipples contracted to hard points.
As the beast inside him stirred and raised its head, he stepped back. “Get started.”
While he worked on attaching chains to the proper bolts, he watched her pick and choose.
She put a thick cane midway, a lighter one closer to the good side. The heavy flogger was good; the one with knotted ends went to the bad side. His favorite short snake whip was considered. Put close to the bad end. Moved to the other side. Moved again. Was there anything more appetizing than a submissive’s uncertainty? He’d definitely give her a taste of that whip, no matter where it ended up on the table.
Masters of the Shadowlands 7 - This is who I am Page 11
