Obeying Rowen: Club Zodiac, Book Two
Page 27
Brooke didn’t allow herself to breathe easy, though. She didn’t even move. She wouldn’t dare move for the rest of the day.
What time was it?
Morning. Early. It would be a long day.
It had been months since the last time she’d endured a beating like this. She could feel the warm wetness of blood running down her back. It was a familiar sensation. It wasn’t usually this bad, but she was used to it. She could even predict from the level of pain alone how long the welts would take to heal.
A door slammed.
Slowly, gradually, she started to breathe again. At least she was alone now. There was peace in her loneliness.
She enjoyed being alone.
No one could hurt her when she was alone.
The first time she saw him she was hauling a bucket of cleaning supplies through the dim lighting of Club Zodiac on her way toward the private rooms that lined the hallway.
Brooke had no idea what his name was, but she assumed he was one of the owners. He had his head down, his fingers flying across the keypad of his cell phone while he sauntered toward the stairs that led to the third floor.
He didn’t notice her, but then again she stood stock still watching him. He was not only significantly taller than her, but broad. Enormous. His blond hair was tousled as though he’d either run his hands through it or hadn’t combed it at all.
Her heart raced for no good reason. She should not be standing there watching him move. She shouldn’t even care enough to glance at him. But she did. She continued to stare after he rounded the corner completely out of sight.
A noise behind her made her spin around so quickly she nearly dropped her supplies. Her face flushed, heat rushing up her cheeks as though she’d been caught stealing or killing puppies or something.
“I’m so sorry.” The woman who spoke rushed forward. “I didn’t realize anyone was here or I wouldn’t have snuck up on you. I didn’t mean to scare you to death. Are you okay?” The woman was blond with pale skin. She was not much taller or larger than Brooke.
When she reached for Brooke’s arm to gently touch her, Brooke flinched before she could stop herself. She had to take a deep breath before she found her voice. “No worries. I should have heard you. My mind was…” Where was her mind? She had no idea how to finish that statement, so she let it hang.
The blonde held out a hand. “Faith Robbins.”
Brooke stared at her hand for a moment before she realized she needed to take it. She shifted her bucket from her right hand to her left awkwardly in order to return the gesture. “Brooke Madden.”
“Nice to meet you, Brooke. Are you a member of the club?” she asked innocently.
Brooke’s eyes widened. “Me? No. I, uh…” She felt utterly foolish. “I work for the company that cleans the building.” She pointed at her bucket. “I was about to do the floors in the hallway.” When I got sidetracked by the giant of a man who should not have been able to penetrate my thick walls.
Faith smiled, her face also flushing with embarrassment. Why would she feel awkward? “Ah. Then I’m in your way. I just came in to practice while the club is closed. Will it bother you if I work in the main room?” She nodded over Brooke’s shoulder.
Brooke glanced behind her at the darkened room that was filled with the craziest most unimaginable equipment she had seen in her life. What the hell was Faith going to do in there to “practice”?
For weeks Brooke had been cleaning this club, and only because she cleaned the entire building, including the business located on the first floor below Zodiac. The first time she’d come in, another team member from the cleaning service had been with her, and thank God because Brooke might have left the place screaming.
She realized Faith was waiting for her to respond. “Oh, no. Of course not. Do what you need to do. I’ll work around you. I mean, unless that’s a problem. I can come back.” That wasn’t entirely true. The reality was Brooke was almost done for the day. After mopping this hall, she intended to go home. Exhausted.
Faith hesitated, narrowing her eyes slightly. “You’re sure you don’t mind? I don’t mean to traumatize anyone.”
Traumatize anyone? Brooke waved her off with a forced giggle. “Me? Don’t worry about me. Do your thing. I’ll mop this hallway and get out of your way.”
Brooke proceeded to mop the hallway, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she continuously passed by the wide opening that dumped the hallway into the main room. Snooping. Faith turned on several lights, illuminating the large room in a way that made it seem far less ominous. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all painted black, but with a few overhead lights, the odd pieces of furniture scattered around made the place look far less intimidating.
When a loud snapping sound rent through the silence, Brooke jumped out of her skin and rushed around the corner to make sure Faith was okay.
She was still breathing heavily when she came to a halt, finding the blond woman facing a strange bench and flicking a long whip thingy through the air. Another snap came as a shock to Brooke, making her emit a sharp squeal.
She clapped her hand over her mouth, mortified at being caught as Faith turned around.
Faith rushed forward again, still holding the whip. “Shit. I’m sorry. I’m totally making your day miserable time and again.” She set the whip down on a chair as she approached. “I’ll wait until you’re done here before I continue. I forget that most people would be horrified to watch me practice.”
Brooke licked her lips. “Practice? Practice for what?” She glanced around the room, wondering what the hell actually happened in the club when it was open.
Faith smiled. “You have no knowledge of BDSM, do you?”
“BDSM?” Brooke shook her head, realizing how stupid she sounded as the acronym seeped in. “I mean, yes. I understand the gist. Bondage and stuff. What are you doing with that leather rope?” She sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry. None of my business.”
Faith’s brows drew together.
Brooke backed up, nearly stumbling. She was supposed to clean the floors and then leave. The owners of CCS—the number one company for business cleaning in Miami—would frown on her engaging the client. Commercial Cleaning Services, Inc. Their motto was: Less is more. Clean and get out. Don’t encourage conversation and give a business any reason to fire them.
“Wait.” Faith stepped forward. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. It was rude of me to assume you wouldn’t freak out. I forget not everyone is used to seeing someone wield a whip.”
“What? Goodness no. I’ve seen everything,” Brooke lied as she waved a hand in front of her face to blow off the strange interaction. “You would not believe what cleaning people witness. Whips. Chains. Whatever.” She had no actual idea what she was talking about.
For a second, neither of them said a word, and then Faith cocked her head to the side, a slow smile forming. A moment later, she laughed.
Brooke couldn’t help but join her. She laughed so hard, she bent at the waist. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like that. And then she sobered as she realized she’d never laughed that hard.
Faith was wiping tears from her eyes as Brooke tried to control her outburst.
How mortifying. Could she have said anything more ridiculous? But Faith didn’t seem to mind.
Finally, Faith took a deep breath and nodded behind her. “Come on. The least I can do is give you a demonstration so you don’t leave here wondering.”
Brooke stopped mid-breath, taking another step backward. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Faith glanced around. “You’re curious, right?”
Brooke nodded against her better judgment. More like horrified, but sure.
The next thing she knew, Faith took her mop from her hand and leaned it against the wall. “Come on,” she repeated in a tone that brooked no argument. She gently took Brooke by the arm and led her across the room toward a bench. “Sit here. Don’t move. J
ust watch.”
Brooke felt extremely out of her element jumping up onto the bench thingy to sit while Faith picked up her whip again. She was intrigued. And frightened.
Faith approached, spun the handle of the whip around, and offered it to Brooke. “Here. Check it out. Best place to start. It’s just leather woven together. When I fling it through the air, it makes that cracking noise you heard.”
The one that made me nearly pee my pants. Brooke’s hands were shaking as she examined the whip and then handed it back.
“I’m what they call a Domme.”
“You mean like a Dominatrix? A woman?”
“Yep, but people don’t really say Dominatrix anymore. Just Domme. I’m a female Domme. The guys don’t get to have all the fun. Didn’t your mom tell you that you can be anything you want?” she teased.
Brooke gulped. Not even close… She rocked back and forth on her butt, tucking her hands under her thighs to keep from revealing more than she wanted. Shifting her gaze to the whip, she leaned back a few inches as if she might be injured by it any second. “What are you practicing?” she asked to change the subject. She also really wanted to watch.
“Precision.”
“Uh-huh.”
Faith backed up several yards, swung the whip slowly through the air a few times, and then gave it a sharp yank, which recreated that same cracking noise as before.
Brooke yelped, flinching as the tail end of the whip struck a pole.
“Precision,” Faith repeated as she turned around. “Don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“You…you…hit people with that?”
“Yes. But it’s not nearly as bad as you’d think. I can alter the intensity so that I leave little to no marks.” She winked. “I’ve been doing this a while.”
Brooke’s mouth was dry. “I can’t imagine how that would not hurt.” I know for a fact it would hurt. Bad. It would leave a welt. Probably blood. She cringed.
Faith turned back around, lined herself up with the pole, and whipped the tail through the air again, slower this time, with less of a crack. It still hit the pole right where she’d aimed, but not with as much force. Nevertheless, it would hurt.
Faith returned to stand next to Brooke, setting the whip behind her on the bench. “That’s a bit advanced. I can show you other toys if you’re interested.”
Brooke was at a loss for words. Half of her was incredibly curious. The other half wanted to run from the club and never look back. “Maybe you could just explain this to me a bit?” She glanced around. “What all happens in here? People come here, get tied to these benches and things, and beaten? Why would they want to do that?”
Faith smiled. “Damn. It’s been a long time since I’ve explained the inside of a club to a newbie.”
Brooke had no idea what that meant, but she said nothing.
Faith glanced around. “Your description oversimplifies things. First of all, nothing happens in Zodiac that isn’t safe, sane, and consensual. No one plays without a safeword. No one plays without reading the house rules and signing a waiver.”
“Who would consent to letting someone whip them?” Not me.
“You’d be surprised. People have all sorts of reasons why they practice masochism.” She lifted her gaze. “Masochists are people who enjoy some form of pain with their BDSM.”
Brooke’s heart was pounding. She glanced at the whip, memories of being struck with a similar object more times than she could count flooding her mind. The pain. The humiliation. The torture.
The strangely peaceful numbness.
As if Faith read her mind, she continued. “Many submissives say they get a release from being spanked or flogged or struck by any number of objects. Like they’re absolved from some perceived wrongdoing, real or imagined. It can be freeing.”
Brooke continued to stare at the whip Faith had wielded so expertly. Freeing… Something about the idea made her skin tingle. It had been so long since the last time she’d felt that kind of release.
So rarely did she step out of line, even lately. But today she had. She’d felt guilt for the last several hours. Her offense? Falling under the spell of a man. It was wrong. She knew it. And yet, she’d been unable to stop herself. The blond god who was part owner of Zodiac had tempted her.
“You okay?” Faith asked.
Brooke jerked her gaze up to meet Faith’s.
“I’ve said too much. I’m so sorry. I get carried away when it seems like someone wants to learn. I forget not everyone wants to hear about my world. Forgive me.”
Brooke slowly nodded her head. “No. Really. It’s fine.” She licked her dry lips. “Would you show me what it’s like?”
If you’d like to continue reading Collaring Brooke, here is the purchase link:
Author’s Note
If you’d like to read more in the Club Zodiac series, I’m including the link for Collaring Brooke.
Collaring Brooke (Club Zodiac, Book 3)
If you’d like to try one of my Mixed Martial Arts series, I’d suggest Come. It’s free on all venues.
Come (The Fight Club, Book 1)
If you’re interested in trying out one of my paranormal stories, I have recently released a new series called Arcadian Bears. This series is a spin-off from my most popular series, Wolf Masters.
Grizzly Mountain (Arcadian Bears, Book 1)
Also by Becca Jameson
Club Zodiac:
Training Sasha
Obeying Rowen
Collaring Brooke
* * *
Arcadian Bears:
Grizzly Mountain
Grizzly Beginning
Grizzly Secret
Grizzly Promise
Grizzly Survival
Grizzly Perfection
* * *
Sleeper SEALs:
Saving Zola
* * *
Spring Training:
Catching Zia
Catching Lily
Catching Ava
* * *
The Underground series:
Force
Clinch
Guard
Submit
Thrust
Torque
Saving Sofia (Kindle World)
* * *
Wolf Masters series:
Kara’s Wolves
Lindsey’s Wolves
Jessica’s Wolves
Alyssa’s Wolves
Tessa’s Wolf
Rebecca’s Wolves
Melinda’s Wolves
Laurie’s Wolves
Amanda’s Wolves
Sharon’s Wolves
* * *
Claiming Her series:
The Rules
The Game
The Prize
* * *
Emergence series:
Bound to be Taken
Bound to be Tamed
Bound to be Tested
Bound to be Tempted
* * *
The Fight Club series:
Come
Perv
Need
Hers
Want
Lust
* * *
Wolf Gatherings series:
Tarnished
Dominated
Completed
Redeemed
Abandoned
Betrayed
* * *
Durham Wolves series:
Rescue in the Smokies
Fire in the Smokies
Freedom in the Smokies
* * *
Stand Alone Books:
Blind with Love
Guarding the Truth
Out of the Smoke
Abducting His Mate
Three’s a Cruise
Wolf Trinity
Frostbitten
About the Author
Becca Jameson is the best-selling author of over 60 books. She is most well-known for her Wolf Masters series and her Fight Club series. She currently lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband, two gro
wn kids, and the various pets that wander through. She is loving this journey and has dabbled in a variety of genres, including paranormal, sports romance, military, and BDSM.
A total night owl, Becca writes late at night, sequestering herself in her office with a glass of red wine and a bar of dark chocolate, her fingers flying across the keyboard as her characters weave their own stories.
During the day--which never starts before ten in the morning!--she can be found jogging, floating in the pool, or reading in her favorite hammock chair!
…where Alphas dominate…
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Contact Becca:
www.beccajameson.com
beccajameson4@aol.com