Collaring Brooke (Club Zodiac Book 3)

by Becca Jameson

  She was afraid she might stop breathing.

  “Our client enrollment is way down this year in the Miami area. Headquarters is cutting every corner down to the bare bones.”

  Brooke said nothing. This could not be happening. Surely she wasn’t about to get fired.

  He sighed. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.” As he spoke, he pushed an envelope across the table toward her. “Today was your last day. The best I could do for you was a two-week severance pay to tide you over until you can get another job. I’m so sorry.”

  She stared at the envelope, not blinking. Not moving an inch.

  “Brooke?”

  She jerked her gaze up to his chest and swallowed. “You’re firing me?”

  “I don’t have a choice.” He squirmed in his seat.

  “But I’ve been working here for four years.”

  “I know, but we have others who have been here longer and several people with families. I need to hang on to those who are most desperate for as long as possible.”

  I’m most desperate.

  Her breaths came faster. She was going to hyperventilate. In fact, she leaned forward and rubbed her temples with both hands. “Mr. Zellerman, I need this job.”

  “I know, Brooke. I know. I wish there was some other way.”

  Silence filled the space between them. There was nothing else to say. Finally, she reached for the envelope, clasped it close to her chest, and stood. She walked out of his office and then the building without looking at a soul or speaking to anyone else.

  When she was back in her car, she started the engine while the tears began to fall. Tonight would be the last night she slept in her apartment, but it had never occurred to her that she might also lose her job. Her entire world was collapsing around her.

  On autopilot she drove home, parked, and climbed the stairs to the third floor. The tears she’d shed on the way to the apartment hadn’t even dried up yet when she flopped down on her mattress.

  After twenty-two bleak years of existence, tomorrow afternoon she would be homeless. Jobless and homeless.

  Without removing her stupid uniform or even her dirty shoes, she rolled to her side, pulled the covers up over her body, and closed her eyes. It was three in the afternoon. But she had no idea when she would get to sleep on a mattress again.

  She hadn’t thought far enough to even devise a plan. All she could do was pack up her meager possessions in her car and make the few dollars she had stretch as far as possible until she could find another job.

  Exhausted beyond reason, she finally fell asleep, not waking for twelve hours when her stomach started protesting. It was the middle of the night. She rolled onto her back, took a deep breath, and then pushed off the mattress to start packing.

  By five, she had everything she cared about loaded in the trunk and back seat of her car. At least none of her neighbors would witness her shame when she casually left at noon. She returned to her apartment, opened the fridge, and sighed. She had a few slices of American cheese and some bread. She didn’t have butter, but toasted cheese was almost as good as grilled cheese.

  The important thing was it was hot. She had two cans of off-brand chicken noodle soup too. She made one of them, adding extra water to make it stretch further, and slowly sipped the warm broth.

  In the silence of her apartment, she glanced around as the sun came up. She’d lived in this cheap, tiny, one-bedroom dump for as long as she could remember.

  And now this part of her life was over, as well as her job.

  Maybe she could get work cleaning homes. She could apply with local area companies like the one she’d been with or even go on her own. She had no idea how would she would find clients though.

  All the money she had in the world was in an envelope handed to her by her stupid boss yesterday afternoon. She considered using it to get a hotel room, but even a cheap one would eat away at the cash in a few days, leaving her once again homeless with no money. She needed the few dollars in that envelope for gas and food.

  She sat on the ratty, worn kitchen chair for several hours. Thinking. Finally, she headed for the bathroom and took a long, semi-hot shower. She had no idea when she might get another chance. When she was finished, she packed up the few dishes and pans she thought might come in handy when she landed on her feet and left the apartment for the last time. She slid her key under the door and walked out of the building.

  Brooke had no idea why she came to Club Zodiac that night. She wasn’t even positive Faith would be there. She hadn’t called or texted Carter or Faith to confirm. She had never intended to.

  The truth was she had nothing else to do with her time on a Saturday evening, and chances were after tonight she would never return to the club again. She wouldn’t be cleaning it. She wasn’t paying for the membership. And she couldn’t afford the luxury of pretending she was a regular human being after today.

  It was as if she decided to put aside her immense life problems for one more day and focus on the only thing that had brought her any pleasure for the last several weeks. Pain.

  She nearly laughed at the irony.

  Wearing one of her three pairs of jeans, a long-sleeved, black tee, and her black flats, she climbed the stairs to the second floor—the club’s main level. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved when Carter wasn’t the one who greeted her at the entrance. Another employee was working the door. He nodded at her as she passed, but said nothing. Thankfully.

  It was after ten o’clock. Several members were already milling around, talking, and preparing to play. She glanced around, feeling out of place. She didn’t know these people. None of them. The only person she had a relationship with was Faith, and she had no way of knowing if Faith would be there that night.

  And Carter, of course. Where was he?

  Why did she care? It wasn’t as though she intended to speak to him or would even approach him. He was simply a man who was part owner of a club she used to clean. A large man. Broad. Built. With unbelievable muscles. And messy blond hair that women would kill to run their fingers through.

  Good grief.

  She shook the absurd thought from her head and took a breath. This was stupid. She should leave. Carter and his partners had probably already been informed of her firing. They would wonder why she came.

  She spun around to rush back out the door just as Faith stepped into the main room from the stairs that led up to the third floor. She was with a man. Another owner. Rowen. They weren’t touching each other, but Rowen was standing close to her, and he spotted Brooke before Faith did.

  He whispered something in Faith’s ear, and Faith lifted her gaze to smile at Brooke before heading her direction. “You came.” There was a surprised lilt in her voice.

  “Yeah, uh, but maybe it wasn’t such a good idea,” Brooke stammered. “I mean, you’re probably busy, and I should go.” She started to pass, but Rowen stepped in her path.

  His voice was deep, commanding. “Why don’t you two talk in my office? I’ve got a few things to take care of down here.”

  His office? Why would they do that?

  Faith smiled up at Rowen. “Great. Thanks. We’ll be back down in a bit.” She nodded toward the stairs that continued to the third floor and backed up in that direction.

  Brooke followed, feeling foolish.

  Faith was so glamourous. She wore an amazing white fitted dress that looked like it was designed just for her. It was short, but tasteful. Her breasts were far larger than Brooke’s and showed an impressive cleavage. Again, tasteful. Not that Brooke would ever own anything like that in her life, nor would she have the confidence to wear it. But it looked fantastic on Faith.

  The silver strappy heels on Faith’s dainty feet rounded out the outfit. Even her nails looked like they’d been done that afternoon. The woman had money. Why had Brooke never noticed before?

  Rowen never took his gaze off Faith as Brooke took a step to follow her. He too looked like a million buck
s in black slacks and a classy black dress shirt. Even his tie was black. They looked like a couple. Were they?

  Brooke followed Faith up the stairs, wondering why they were heading to Rowen’s office. Maybe Carter had told Faith about Brooke coming to the club on Wednesday and how weird she acted before running out.

  Her hands were sweating, and she wiped them on her jeans as she entered the office behind Faith.

  Faith flipped on the lights. “Take a seat. I’ll grab us some water.” She glided across the room to the mini-fridge and pulled out two bottles. After crossing back to the sofa, she handed one to Brooke. “I’m so glad you came.”

  Brooke felt ridiculous. What was she doing here? “I wasn’t going to come. I’m not even sure why I did.” She took a breath.

  Faith leaned back, crossing her elegant legs. “Why not? I wasn’t sure you would show up, but Carter told me you asked for a time slot with me.”

  Brooke lifted her gaze. “He did?” What else did Carter tell her?

  Faith’s brow furrowed. “Of course.”

  Snap out of it, Brooke. This is your only chance to fully experience BDSM. Make it good. She took a deep breath and lifted her gaze to meet Faith’s, forcing herself to pull out all the stops and go for it. “Do you? I mean, do you have time to do a scene with me?”

  “Yes.” She beamed. “That’s why we’re up here. I thought we could negotiate what you want from the experience before we go downstairs. We can take our time. I’m only performing with you tonight. In fact, I have a confession to make…” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced down at her water bottle, running a perfectly groomed nail over the top absentmindedly.

  For the first time since Brooke had met her, Faith seemed out of sorts.

  Finally, Faith smiled and lifted her gaze. “You’re the first person I’m telling this to.”

  Oh God.

  “I’m not really a Domme.”

  Brooke winced. She had no idea what that meant.

  Faith shook her head. “That didn’t come out right. I am a Domme. I mean, I have practiced as a Domme for a long time, but I’m giving it up. You’ll be my last bottom.”

  “Why?” Brooke squeezed the bottle tighter, confused.

  Faith giggled. “I’ve been pretending it was right for me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m good at it. I know that. I’ve topped a lot of people. But my true self is submissive.”

  Reality dawned. “You’re with Rowen.”

  Faith beamed again. “Yes. I mean, it’s recent, but it’s right.”

  “That’s why you didn’t come in Wednesday night.”

  She nodded. “Exactly. I’ve been submitting to Rowen for the past week. Few people know. It’s going to be weird switching and explaining myself to everyone, but I know in my heart it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Wow.” Brooke’s shoulders relaxed. “Why did you come in tonight? Just for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” No one had ever gone out of their way to do something for Brooke. It warmed her to think Faith cared enough to do this for her.

  “I did. For several reasons. I need to top someone one last time for myself, for one thing. And you need me too.” She reached out with one hand and clasped Brooke’s.

  Brooke swallowed hard, afraid she might cry. Her bottom lip trembled.

  “You have secrets, Brooke. Deep pain that needs to be let out. I’m not expecting you to share everything with me tonight by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m hoping I can at least break through and help you open up. And then I’d like you to work with someone else.”

  Brooke jerked her gaze up, shaking her head. “I couldn’t do that.”

  “You can. You’re ready. I’m not the only person capable of dominating you.”

  Brooke continued to shake her head slowly. “No. You don’t understand. I’m… I’m…” A tear fell, and then another. She tugged her fingers free and wiped the line of moisture from her cheeks onto the back of her hand, fighting for composure.

  Faith leaned closer. “Don’t worry about the future right now. Let’s just concentrate on the scene we’re going to do.”

  Brooke stared at her. She could do that. No sense worrying about later. It didn’t matter anyway. She would be gone. She would never see these people again. There was no reason to stress about Faith’s imaginary future plans for Brooke’s life.

  Faith sat up straighter and pointed toward the floor in front of her. “Kneel in front of me, facing out. I want to braid your hair.”

  Brooke searched Faith’s face. “Why?”

  Faith smiled. “It’s common. I’ve always had you pull it up when we played in the past. I’m going to do it for you this time. It will calm you. Put you in the right frame of mind.”

  Brooke finally broke the stare and lowered to her knees in front of Faith. It felt awkward. Different. They weren’t in the club. They were upstairs in an office.

  The moment Faith gathered Brooke’s hair and ran her fingers through it, Brooke relaxed. It felt so good. No one had ever played with her hair before. “Tip your head down,” Faith whispered.

  More tension left her body as she stared at her knees.

  “Put your hands on your thighs, palms open and facing up.”

  She followed Faith’s instructions, releasing even more pent-up stress. Incredible.

  “That’s good.” While she worked her fingers through Brooke’s curls over and over, she continued speaking in a soothing, calm voice. “I’m going to tell you a lot of things in the next hour or so. I know you won’t remember all of them, but hopefully the most important things will stick.”

  Brooke said nothing.

  “You’re very submissive. It makes you vulnerable. Even the slightest suggestion puts you in a subspace most people aren’t capable of. I know you probably think it has something to do with me, but it doesn’t. I just happened to be in the right place at the moment you were ready.” She chuckled. “Worked out well that we met inside a fetish club.”

  Brooke managed to smile.

  “Promise me you’ll be careful. Not every Dom or Domme is as tuned in as I am. I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you.”

  “I promise.” It seemed important to Faith to hear the unnecessary confirmation, so Brooke gave her that.

  “After our scene, I’m going to ask someone else to take over your aftercare. A transition of sorts.”

  Brooke flinched.

  Faith released her curls to set a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. I promise. I have just the right person in mind.”

  Who? Brooke wanted to ask, but she decided not to. It didn’t matter. When Faith was done with her, she would flee the club and never come back.

  “Pull your shoulders back. Straighten your spine.”

  It took Brooke a moment to comply. Again, it felt awkward. She spent most of her time hiding from the world, her shoulders hunched forward so no one would notice her. Pulling them back made her feel exposed.

  She glanced at her chest and rolled her eyes. No part of her was exposed. She wore a baggy, black shirt that revealed nothing. And there wasn’t much to reveal anyway. Her chest had always been small. Of course that was partially because she never ate enough to gain weight.

  “I’m going to ask you to do things we haven’t discussed before tonight. I want you to get a more complete experience. I want you to feel more fully what it means to submit and let yourself relax into someone else’s care.”

  Brooke nodded.

  Faith finally finished playing with Brooke’s hair and divided it into three sections to braid it. The thick weight of the heavy braid on her back felt comforting in a way. It kept her from being able to hide her face, but she found she liked the fact that it pleased Faith.

  “I’d like to secure your wrists tonight. Do you think you can handle the restraint?”

  “Yes.”

  Faith stood and circled around to stand in front of Brooke. She reached under Brooke’s chin and lifted
her face, forcing her gaze up. “For the next hour, you’ll address me as Ma’am.”

  Brooke swallowed, nodding.

  Faith lifted a brow.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Good girl. It humbles you. Puts you in the right frame of mind. Everything a dominant does guides you to the right frame of mind.”

  Brooke nodded.

  “Are you ready then?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Faith smiled. “Then let’s go downstairs.”

  Chapter 7

  Brooke was surprisingly calm as she followed Faith down the stairs. She kept her hands clasped behind her back as Faith instructed, her shoulders back, and her head down.

  Every instruction was both awkward and soothing. It felt natural. Perhaps Faith was right and Brooke was a natural submissive.

  It didn’t matter. This was her last night to experience submission, and she intended to be the perfect bottom and fully live in the moment.

  She was surprised when Faith led her toward a new piece of equipment Brooke had not paid much attention to yet. A strange circle of chains that looked exactly like a spider web.

  Without a word, Faith lifted Brooke’s hands above her head and circled her wrists with Velcro cuffs. It was the first time Brooke had been secured by Faith. It felt odd, but comforting. The inability to escape relaxed her.

  “How do the cuffs feel?” Faith whispered in her ear.

  “Good, Ma’am.”

  Faith smiled. “I thought you would like them. Another level of submission.”

  Brooke nodded.

  Faith disappeared for a moment and then returned holding three items in her hands—a paddle, a flogger, and a whip. “Look at me, Brooke.”

  Brooke tentatively lifted her gaze. “Ma’am?”

  “You said you didn’t want me to hold back tonight.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “I’m going to let you choose which item you’d like me to strike you with, but there’s a catch.”

  Brooke’s eyes widened. “A catch?”

  “Yes. I’m going to expect you to open up to me. Talk to me. Answer my questions while I top you.”