Their Famous Dominant

by Nicole Edwards

  I swear I heard Zeke chuckle.

  “Yes, it has.”

  Without additional conversation, the woman prepped me, using scissors to trim my pubic hair, then quickly jumped right into it, placing the warm wax on my most sensitive parts and covering it with a strip of fabric.

  “Take a deep breath,” the woman instructed. “And breathe out when I pull.”

  I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut. I barely had time to inhale before I exhaled on a rough groan, the pain sharp and bright. Stars danced behind my eyelids as I gritted my teeth.

  There were no apologies but I hadn’t expected them. I knew what was coming, but still, I hardly managed to inhale before the next strip was being yanked off, ripping the hair from between my legs.

  That part was particularly awful, but the tweezing that followed was equally brutal. The entire process only took a few minutes, and then the woman applied a soothing lotion to my irritated female region before standing up and smiling.

  “That was the worst part. By the time you leave here today, you won’t even remember it happened.”

  I forced a smile. I seriously doubted that, but I wasn’t going to argue.

  The woman held out her hand to assist me to a sitting position. I secured the robe in place as the woman led me from that room into another. Zeke was close behind.

  Like the other room, the lights were dim, and soft music was playing. But this one had a strong, soothing scent of lavender and vanilla that instantly relaxed me.

  Another female attendant greeted me with a smile, her eyes darting from me to Zeke, then back. “Welcome, Ms. Tinsley. My name’s Adelle. You are our VIP for today. Anything you wish, we have been instructed to provide. May I get you a glass of champagne?”

  Why not. “Yes, that would be lovely.”

  I knew it was going to be a long day. However, I knew it was going to be well worth it.

  After all, I got to see Trent in a few hours.

  And that was all I seemed to be able to think about.

  Well, that and how badly that waxing had hurt.

  Trent

  THE FIRST INTERVIEW OF THE afternoon lasted all of three minutes. The guy didn’t even pass Sarah’s initial questions, which made the process easier, especially for me. I was grateful they’d decided to do a staggered interview process, which would weed out most of the fakes before they ever made it my way.

  The second interview came with a recommendation from Luke McCoy as well as Dylan Thomas, so I asked to meet with them. When two men joined me in the conference room, I instantly recognized the twins from Devotion.

  I stood and greeted them both with a handshake, then sat down and glanced at their applications.

  Christian and Tristan Biggs were relatively new members at Devotion; however, they were apparently high school friends of Dylan’s. According to Dylan, they’d maintained their friendship through the years and the twins had helped him with a scene with Sarah back when he and Sarah had been dating.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what made you decide to join Devotion?”

  Christian spoke up first. “We joined on Dylan’s recommendation. Interesting club. We don’t get by there often, but we’ve been able to go a few times, mostly when they have BDSM-theme nights.”

  I smiled to myself. I was the one who had implemented those.

  “Tell me a little about yourselves,” I prompted, leaning back in my chair and regarding the pair. I knew quite a bit about them due to their application, but I wanted to hear it from them.

  “We’re identical twins,” Christian stated, then smirked sheepishly. “Although that might be obvious.” He nodded toward the application. “I’m a homicide detective with the Dallas Police Department. My brother owns a mechanic shop.”

  “Homicide? That’s gotta be brutal. I did a movie a few years ago where I played a homicide detective. I did quite a bit of research for that role, so I have an idea of what it’s like.”

  “Not for the faint of heart, no,” Christian agreed. “But don’t worry, I counterbalance all the death and carnage with long walks on the beach, candlelight dinners…”

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  Christian laughed. “Not really. I’m not a fan of sand. Or fire.”

  This guy was the funny one, obviously.

  I glanced over at Tristan, who had yet to say a word. “And you? Do you have a fear of sand?”

  Tristan shook his head.

  “Well, then. Only identical in looks, huh?”

  “Pretty much,” Christian agreed. “However, I’m the wittier, smarter one.”

  Tristan flipped off his brother, making me laugh.

  I perused the application, noting the twins were forty-three years old and apparently well-established in the BDSM community. They had lived in the Dallas area all their lives, both parents were still alive, and they had one younger sister.

  “Why’re you interested in Dichotomy?” I asked before glancing up at the pair.

  “Although we value our recent membership at Devotion,” Christian began, “Dichotomy offers us more to meet our personal preferences. Fetishes are good but our tastes run more along the lines of D/s. Plus, word’s getting out that this is the place to be.”

  “Are you Dominants?”

  “Yes,” Tristan replied. “With fourteen years of experience.” He nodded toward the application. “You’ll see an extensive list of clubs we’ve been members of, all in good standing.”

  I noticed how Tristan seemed to be a rule follower, getting right to the point. I would’ve pegged them to be the opposite, so it was an interesting discovery.

  “The list is extensive,” I told Tristan as I again scanned the page, noticing Sarah had added notes from when she’d called every club on the list to get details. Based on the positive feedback, the twins were well liked in the community.

  “And we generally co-top,” Christian added, “which is our preference. However, we’ve been known to go solo from time to time.”

  “Do you have any specialized strengths?” I watched them both carefully. “Flogger, whip, fire play?”

  “I’m an expert with a flogger,” Christian stated, maintaining eye contact with me. “And by expert, I’m not self-titled. I actually have extensive training, believe it or not.”

  I believed it. I’d met quite a few Doms over the years who took their preferred form of impact play seriously.

  “I prefer a more hands-on approach,” Tristan noted, a gleam in his eye. “I’m not a Sadist like my brother.”

  My gaze darted to Christian. “Is this true? You’re a Sadist?” I leaned back in my chair.

  He rolled his eyes. “Not by the technical term, no. The need to apply pain is not something I crave. It’s merely something I enjoy from time to time. However, my brother’s not into pain at all, so he tends to exaggerate on my behalf.”

  I grinned. “Understood.” I glanced down at the application once more. “Do either of you currently have a submissive?”

  “No, we do not,” Tristan answered for them both. “However, we are open to finding one.”

  “One?”

  Tristan nodded. “Yes. Ultimately, our intention is to share.”

  I nodded. I’d already intended to approve the twins, but meeting them face-to-face gave me a better understanding of their overall personas. It was obvious Christian was more outgoing, Tristan more clinical. However, they both seemed to want the same thing, which wasn’t necessarily surprising.

  Getting to my feet, I held out my hand once more. “Welcome to Dichotomy, gentlemen. As you might’ve heard, I’m still ramping up on memberships due to the overwhelming interest. It’s slowgoing, and I wouldn’t mind any advice you might have. Based on the glowing recommendations, I’d be interested in discussing Master status within the club. I’ll have Sarah provide you with the details, so you can look it over. I’m available to chat whenever you’re ready.”

  Neither man seemed surprised by the offer. Being that they were highly regarded Domina
nts, I hadn’t expected them to be.

  “We’ll look it over,” Christian said, shaking my hand. “We look forward to being here. And if you need help with anything, just holler. We don’t mind pitching in.”

  After shaking Tristan’s hand, I walked both men back to the main floor. “If you’re interested in interrogating people,” I stated to Christian, “I could use some help with the interview process.”

  Tristan laughed for the first time, glancing over at his brother. “He’s a master interrogator. Hope you’re looking to weed out many and not few.”

  I looked at Christian. “That’s certainly the plan. Like I said, I’m available to talk later if you’ve got time.”

  “I’ve got time,” Christian told me. “I’ll set something up with Sarah if that works for you.”

  I nodded, then noticed Dylan was leading a group of five—three women and two men—toward the stairs.

  “Submissives?” Christian asked.

  “Yes. We’ll be starting training classes soon. In the meantime, we’re looking for some experienced subs who’ll help with demonstrations.”

  “I’d be more than happy to help interview them,” Tristan offered.

  I cocked an eyebrow and caught Christian’s smirk. “My brother has an affinity for getting subs to reveal their inner desires.”

  “Is that right?” I turned and watched the group as they climbed the stairs.

  “It’s true,” Tristan said mischievously.

  I motioned toward the stairs. “I’d be more than happy to watch you in action.”

  Tristan grinned, a playful smirk that said these subs were in for a treat.

  Maybe this interview process wouldn’t be as boring as I had thought it would be.

  *

  After spending an hour listening to Tristan put the submissives through the motions, I finally excused myself. As much fun as it was, there was something else on my mind, something I’d put off for long enough.

  Regardless of how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss Troy and I had shared that morning. It had rocked me on a level I hadn’t expected. I wanted to say that my obvious obsession with it was due to the fact that I’d never kissed a man before. However, I didn’t believe that was the case. If I had to guess, it was Troy who had damn near leveled me in a way no one ever had.

  And still, hours later, the lure was damn near debilitating. It was all I could think about, and I feared it was going to be a distraction I couldn’t necessarily afford.

  I unlocked the apartment and slipped inside, finding Troy still sitting at the island with a pen in his hand, the iPad beside the folder, and the papers in front of him.

  He glanced over at me and grinned. “Back so soon?”

  “What are you working on?”

  “I was going through my limit list one more time. Considering I didn’t know half of what this shit was, I’ve been utilizing my good friend Google.” He grinned. “It’s safe to say that if the FBI is monitoring my searches, someone’s probably going to descend on the building soon.”

  I grinned, doing my damnedest not to look at his mouth.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as I moved into the kitchen. “I can order something to be delivered. I’m not sure when you ate last and I noticed there isn’t much here.”

  I wasn’t sure when I’d last eaten, either. I’d skipped breakfast and lunch and … hell, I hadn’t had anything except for coffee since lunch in Chicago late yesterday afternoon.

  “I could eat.”

  “Great.” He grabbed the iPad. “Oh, and I called the spa to check on Clarissa, make sure they were taking care of her. They said to assure you she’s doing fine.”

  I stared at him for a second. I hadn’t expected that, although I wasn’t sure why not. An assistant was there to ensure things were taken care of. Troy had good follow-through. But there was something else. I knew from the past few years that he was good at his job. His attention to detail always impressed me. This was different, though. If I pegged him correctly, he was doing his best to please me in more ways than merely his job.

  I liked that he was putting forth the effort.

  “Thanks.” Shaking off the intense heat I felt, I turned to the refrigerator. “Order from wherever. I don’t have any preference today.” I grabbed a bottle of water.

  “Oh, right. Case and Brax are in Chicago,” he said with a chuckle. “Not here to monitor your kale intake.”

  It was true, Case and Brax kept me on my toes. More so during filming. And strict was an understatement when it came to Case monitoring what I ate and how often I worked out.

  “But don’t worry,” Troy added, “I’ll continue to sneak you chocolate as long as he’s not looking.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. I did like Troy.

  Far more than I’d anticipated.

  Troy

  ALTHOUGH I EXPECTED THEM TO be, things between Master and me weren’t awkward. I ordered from the Vietnamese restaurant nearby, knowing how much he enjoyed it. Master seemed pleased with my selection, so I considered that a good thing.

  After we ate, he disappeared back down to the club for a little while, giving me some time to receive the contract Landon said was on its way over. I didn’t know the first thing about legalese, so I didn’t bother to read it, I merely printed it out so Master could go over it when he was ready.

  I also signed the membership agreement, went through my emails, and declined two requests for Master’s attendance at specific functions, informing the inviters that his calendar was bogged down with other engagements.

  When that was finished, I called his Dallas house manager to ensure Master’s groceries had been delivered. We’d been getting low on quite a few things and I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. I wasn’t sure what his plans were for next week, but at the very least, he would have food at home.

  I had even thought ahead, purchasing a few things I could make myself. With Brax in Chicago, I wanted to ensure Master was taken care of. Just in case he wanted to eat in at some point. With Clarissa perhaps?

  My eyes drifted to the apartment door and I thought about the club below.

  Although I couldn’t deny the attraction I had to Master and Clarissa, I was equally curious about this lifestyle. I had read plenty, but I knew it was nothing compared to experiencing it for myself. I had no idea what to expect, but I was looking forward to tomorrow night.

  I had just finished emailing the maintenance crew with this month’s issues when the door opened, and Master stepped inside. The same as the previous time he’d come in, his eyes instantly landed on me.

  “Landon texted and said he sent the contract.”

  “He did,” I confirmed. “I printed it and it’s on your desk. I figured you might want to look at it.” I turned on the stool as he neared.

  “Thanks. I’m not sure I’ll get to it tonight, but I’d like to have Clarissa look at it when she has the chance.”

  When he didn’t say anything more, I decided to get something off my chest. “I’m not sure what to expect tomorrow night, Master,” I admitted. “You know, down in the club.”

  He seemed surprised by my abrupt subject change and eyed me for a moment. “You’ll do exactly as I instruct you.”

  There was an authority in his tone that I didn’t usually pick up on. Now that I thought about it, though, it was always there. Everything about Master spoke of power and control. Which made perfect sense considering. Trent Ramsey exuded control and authority from every pore. It was always there, brimming just beneath the surface.

  “The question is,” Master continued, “how much are you willing to submit?”

  I wasn’t sure what sort of answer he was hoping for. Was there a measurement system? Like one to ten? Or was it simply a little or a lot?

  Master grinned as though he could read my mind.

  I came up with an answer. “I’ll go all in.”

  One dark eyebrow lifted as Master studied me. “All in?”

>   “Sure.” I mean, why not, right?

  He moved over to me. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  Oh, I had absolutely no clue. I think that was what made it so intriguing.

  Something glittered in Master’s blue eyes and it was then that I noticed what everyone else in the world saw when they looked at him. Trent Ramsey was a bad boy of the highest caliber. He was sex personified, a walking wet dream. He made my dick hard without even trying and I secretly liked that by being his submissive I wasn’t going to have to worry that he was my boss or that I was his employee. Tomorrow night, I would be his submissive.

  “I’m going to need your pants size. I’ve got just the outfit in mind.”

  Oh, well, hell. I remembered him mentioning leather and realized I was evidently going to play dress-up. Perhaps I should rethink this all-in thing.

  Master took another step closer and I found myself staring up into his eyes.

  “You know what?”

  I shook my head because I had no clue.

  “I think I’ll be all-in, too.” Without another word, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and walked out of the room.

  “What does that mean?” I called after him. “Master? Boss? What does that mean?”

  A rusty chuckle sounded from down the hall.

  Shit.

  “Troy?”

  “Yeah?” I hollered back.

  “Follow me.”

  Right. Shit.

  I bolted off the stool and grabbed my iPad. I had no idea what he wanted me to do, but I intended to be ready for anything.

  “Where are you?” I called out when I glanced in his office to see he wasn’t there.

  “My bedroom.”

  I damn near dropped the iPad but I forced my feet to follow the sound of his voice.

  When I was in the doorway, he was dropping his cell phone on the bed.

  “Shower,” he said, his tone firm. “You and me.”

  “But you already showered this morning,” I told him unnecessarily.

  His head tilted slightly. “Are you questioning my instruction? Because if you are, I know exactly how to handle that.”