by Evie Hunter
Damn it. Could he have made a mistake? Was Summer here at all?
Summer forced a smile onto her face. This is what she was here for, wasn’t it? This was what she had been discussing with Molly for months. So why wasn’t she eager? Why did she have a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that no amount of soda could take away?
‘Please, Sir. Me, Sir.’ Molly pouted at Robert, her large eyes pleading with him for attention.
Robert dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘How remiss of me. Of course, my pet. Let me take care of you first.’
The eagerness in her friend’s attitude surprised her. This was Molly? Molly, who could out-drink and out-flirt an entire rugby team. They had backpacked across Europe together. Molly was a free spirit, wild and independent. She didn’t say Sir or let a guy drag her around on a leash like a pet. There was something wrong with this picture.
‘I want you to sit here, Su –. You are not to move and you are not to accept an invitation to play. Do you understand?’
Summer nodded. She had no intention of playing with anyone. Satisfied, Robert turned and bent down to open his tool kit. He pulled out a riding crop and tapped it firmly against his palm. Oh dear god, he wasn’t going to beat Molly with that?
‘Another time.’ Replacing it in the bag, he drew out a leather flail.
She watched in shocked fascination as he led Molly to the X-shaped cross. Her friend stood obediently while Robert attached leather restraints to her wrists and ankles. Molly’s eyes were bright with anticipation. She really wanted this. Robert dragged one hand through her hair and pulled her head back before taking her mouth in a rough kiss. His other hand roamed her abdomen before plunging into the front of her thong. Molly stood on tiptoe, leaning against him, eager for his touch.
Summer blushed. Were they going to have sex in front of her? She didn’t know if she could watch. As he continued to kiss her, Robert opened his eyes. His hard stare held a hint of dark promise. This scene wasn’t for Molly. This was a demonstration of his power over her.
Robert stepped away, staggering slightly. His face was flushed from the two drinks he’d had since they’d arrived at the club. She had thought you weren’t supposed to drink if you were going to play. Summer looked around. She didn’t know anyone here. There was no one she could ask. She sat frozen to her seat as Robert swung his arm for the first blow.
The leather made contact with Molly’s skin and she flinched and cried out. ‘Oh!’
Summer sat rigid, fascinated and shocked by the scene in front of her. Robert wielded his flogger with skill, whisking it around and around, hitting Molly with a hypnotic rhythm. At first she gasped and flinched with every stroke but after a dozen or so, she stopped fighting and something changed. Her body softened, relaxing against the wood of the cross.
Robert changed his stance, so that he could flash up and down her body with the leather flail. He broke off to change it for a different one, and Molly grunted when he laid it across her buttocks.
Robert’s arm flashed at lightning speed, across her legs and back.
Twenty, fifty, one hundred, more. Summer lost count. She could almost feel each stroke of the lash. Her nails dug deep into the velvet chair. Her palms sweated, even as goose bumps popped up on her skin.
Robert paused, to wipe the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. He stroked the reddening skin, pleased with his work. He pulled down Molly’s thong, leaving it around her thighs while his fingers played with her. ‘Good girl,’ he praised her. ‘What do you say?’
When Molly nodded weakly, Robert administered a sharp slap. Her eyes snapped open. ‘Thank you, Master.’
Removing his shirt, he reached for the bag again and removed the crop. He slapped it hard against his palm. The sound of it made Molly straighten up and Summer wasn’t sure whether it was with eagerness or fear. He traced a path down her back with the tip of the crop. ‘Do you want this?’
‘I want to please you,’ she said in a hoarse whisper.
‘There’s a good pet.’
Robert’s back was dripping with sweat. Ignoring the bottled water on the tables, he reached for his champagne glass again and took a deep gulp. A few drops dribbled down his chin and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
One of the staff approached Robert and whispered to him. Summer couldn’t hear what was said, but he spoke quietly to Molly for a moment and she nodded her head. The man pressed an open water bottle to her lips and she drank greedily.
‘Do you want to stop?’ he asked Molly. She shook her head.
With a disapproving glance at Robert, the dungeon monitor left. Summer was tempted to follow him. She couldn’t watch this anymore, but she couldn’t leave her friend here. The sound of a crop against flesh startled her.
‘Count them, and thank me,’ Robert growled. His temper had taken a turn for the worse following the interruption.
Six blows landed in quick succession on Molly’s already reddened flesh. Each stroke left a mark. Molly panted and gasped as she forced the numbers out. At each blow, Molly cried out in pain. Summer rose to her feet. She knew that you weren’t supposed to interfere in a scene but she had to do something.
Robert grunted as he whipped her. He smiled as she flinched and writhed against the restraints. A small crowd of men formed a circle around them, their eyes watching eagerly as Robert worked himself into a frenzy.
Sickened, Summer hurried from the room. She had to find someone to help. Where was that dungeon monitor who had been there before?
8
Summer hurried through the crowded rooms. There were so many people here now and each of the rooms looked the same. She spotted the man dressed as a surgeon heading her way and turned left to avoid him. That guy was creepy.
Another dimly lit corridor. Behind each closed door she could hear the sounds of women and men groaning with pleasure. Occasionally someone screamed. Her heart raced. What the hell was she going to do? Where were the dungeon monitors? There should be staff in a place like this.
She headed for the cloakroom. She needed to get her phone. She had nodded when Molly had told her to leave her bag with her phone in the cloakroom. ‘No phones allowed. Nothing that could take photos of or record a scene.’ At the time it had made sense, but now she desperately wanted that phone so she could phone for help.
Maya or Natasha? She couldn’t call them, they were too far away, and the Aussie guys were probably out partying. She suppressed a hysterical giggle as she imagined Mike and Gavin pushing their way through the club as if they were heading for a try at Lansdowne Road.
Her dad. Oh yeah, that would be sweet. Hi, Dad. I’m in a fetish club with Molly watching her boyfriend beat the crap out of her.
Flynn. She had Flynn’s number. If she could get to her phone and call him, he would protect her and get Molly out of here. Yes, she would have to explain. Admit that she had lied to him and face his anger and his disgust. His opinion of her was already low enough. Spoilt little girl. No job and a mega-rich daddy. Flynn couldn’t possibly understand that money wasn’t always enough to protect you.
But it would be worth it. Flynn would rescue her. She wasn’t sure why she was so certain, but she was. All she had to do was get to her phone.
She took a breath and left the ladies room. She remembered the way. Summer set out, weaving her way through the crowd in the main area as she headed to the cloakroom. Yes, there it was.
It was closed. Summer wanted to cry. She banged on the wooden shutter. ‘Open up. Please, I need my phone.’ There was no reply. The cloakroom was deserted.
Okay, O’Sullivan, time to put your big girl panties on. You have to do this yourself. She would find the man who had given Molly the water and get him to help her. And if she couldn’t find him she would do something herself.
There was no sign of creepy surgeon guy, but she did see a familiar figure in the crowd. Peter the Highwayman. Heaving a sigh of relief, she hurried across the room and tapped him on the shoulder.
‘Well, if it isn’t the little wild child?’ He inclined his head in a small bow. ‘Is there some service that I can perform for my lady?’
‘As a matter of fact there is. It’s my first time here and I’m afraid I’m lost. I need to find my way back to the playroom.’
Peter offered her his arm. ‘It would be my pleasure, my lady.’
Clutching the sleeve of his greatcoat, Summer allowed him to lead her through the club. Peter seemed nice. Maybe she could ask him to help her. ‘Um, have you known Robert long?’
‘Just at the club and some private parties. Robert is quite a showman. He is always worth watching when he plays.’ He slanted a speculative look at her. ‘I wouldn’t have pegged you for one of his girls. You don’t strike me as the sort who likes group play.’
Group play? What was he talking about?
His eyes raked over her skimpy dress and Summer wasn’t sure if she should pull it up or down. ‘Something tells me that you’re a virgin.’ He gestured around him. ‘To this scene, I mean. But don’t worry, Robert will fix that.’
‘No!’ The exclamation burst out of her before she thought.
The highwayman’s eyes gleamed. ‘Well, if you are looking for someone else, I’d be happy to oblige you. I bet that pert little arse would wriggle a lot if I had you over my knee.’
Oh god. She had no idea how to get out of this. She needed someone to help Molly. If she promised the highwayman he could spank her, would he help? Even now, the thought of what would happen if she made enough of a fuss to attract attention made her shudder. She had to do this quietly, without calling too much attention to Molly or herself.
A new player had entered the room. His white pirate shirt was open to the waist, displaying tight abs and a V of dark hair. A black leather kilt with a studded belt covered his thighs. Slung over his right shoulder was an arrow quiver. Dark stubble decorated his strong jaw. His mouth was set in a stern line that spelt danger for anyone who crossed him, but it was his eyes that caught and held her attention. The gold-flecked hazel was almost black with rage. It was Flynn.
Flynn was here.
Summer cringed, waiting for his anger to focus on her. She had lied to him, deceived him. She deserved every bit of it, but she didn’t care as long as she could get Molly out of here. Standing at the edge of the crowd, Flynn had the stillness of a predator waiting to pounce. His eyes scanned the room, taking in everything. Nothing escaped his attention. She knew that he had been a soldier. Was this what he was like before he went into battle? There was an aura of suppressed power about him that was incredibly sexy.
Others apparently thought so too. A Dom leading two white-shirted schoolgirls by their school ties approached him. Flynn politely declined before resuming his scan of the room. His eyes passed over her. He hadn’t noticed her. The hair. She had forgotten about her hair.
‘Come along, my dear, I promised Robert that I’d take care of you.’ Highwayman Peter took her arm.
Summer flinched. She couldn’t let him take her out of here. ‘I can’t. I’ve just seen my Master.’
Highwayman gave her a disbelieving look. ‘Your Master? And which one would he be?’
Summer glanced towards the doorway. Her change of appearance had only fooled Flynn for a moment. He was striding through the crowd with an expression as dark as a storm cloud. Flynn inclined his head to Highwayman politely before shooting her a glance that would melt steel.
‘She says that she is yours,’ Highwayman offered.
Flynn’s eyes narrowed. ‘Aye, I’m afraid that she is. She’s new and untrained. I apologize if she’s been troublesome.’
‘That’s quite alright. She’s a pretty little thing, although I imagine that she needs a firm hand.’
‘Indeed,’ Flynn agreed. ‘She can be quite the brat at times.’ He reached into his sporran and pulled out a length of silver chain and a collar.
Oh, he wouldn’t. Flynn wouldn’t dare put a collar on her in front of all these people. She thought she caught a hint of a smile as he fastened it around her neck. He inserted a finger between the collar and her bare skin before attaching the chain to the collar.
She flashed him a mutinous glare but remained silent. It was her own fault that she was in this mess. She might have to put up with it now, but she would make him pay for this later.
‘She’s had enough excitement for one night,’ Flynn said. ‘Have you seen her companions? I’d like to say goodnight before I take her home.’
‘Robert and Molly? I’m afraid you’ve missed them. Two of Robert’s eastern European friends turned up and they left together.’
‘But was Molly okay?’ Summer asked.
Peter laughed. ‘She was barely warmed up. Molly has a remarkably high pain threshold.’
They left her? Molly and Robert had left her here alone? Summer swallowed hard. If Flynn hadn’t arrived when he did … She didn’t want to think about that. This night wasn’t turning out as she had planned. She had to get out of here. Summer moved towards the door, only to be pulled up sharply by the leash.
‘Going somewhere?’ Flynn asked mildly.
Hell. She had forgotten that she was supposed to be his sub and Highwayman was still hanging around. ‘No … I …’
‘No, what?’ he said sharply.
The words stuck in her throat like shards of glass. When they got home, Flynn was going to suffer. Really suffer. ‘No, Master.’
‘Good girl,’ he praised her. ‘I’ve had a long, thirsty ride to fetch you. I need a drink.’
She followed obediently behind them, praying that no one she knew saw her. The ignominy of it. Summer O’Sullivan on a leash and chain. She would make Flynn pay for this.
Through an ornate pair of doors was another bar. This one was quieter, more formal. Groups sat quietly chatting. They could have been in the lobby of a five-star hotel. She glanced around her, gritting her teeth when she realized that the subs were expected to sit at their masters’ feet. They had to be kidding. Flynn chose a quiet alcove with two wing-backed leather chairs. He was going to do it. This was his petty revenge for making him drive into the city to rescue her.
Flynn ordered two single malts and a sparkling water, while Highwayman located a low footstool and placed it beside Flynn’s chair. She smiled gratefully at him; at least she didn’t have to sit on the floor. When the server arrived with their drinks, Flynn offered her the whiskey. ‘I don’t …’ she began.
His warning glance silenced her and she accepted the glass without further protest. The men chatted about the club. Flynn seemed to know many of the members, which was surprising. But then, a lot of things about tonight had shocked the hell out of her. She took a sip, savouring the warming flare of the whiskey as it slipped down her throat.
She was suddenly desperately tired. Would this night ever end? As if she had spoken out loud, Flynn stroked her hair and he gently pressed her head against his knee. She rested her cheek against his thigh.
Highwayman rambled on. Underneath the wig and the flamboyant costume, he was an old gossip. ‘Dreadful business about the property crash. There were rumours that Robert got himself mixed up in some deal in Bratislava. And I heard that Maurice was hit so hard he had to move back in with his parents.’
‘Very unfortunate,’ Flynn agreed.
The highwayman put down his drink and got to his feet. ‘Break time is over.’ He looked at Flynn and smiled. ‘I wonder if I might play with your pet?’
Summer squeaked. ‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’
Highwayman ignored her. ‘I noticed that she hasn’t played all night.’ Was there a flicker of suspicion in his eyes?
She pressed closer to Flynn. Surely he wouldn’t let anyone touch her.
‘Your choice, pet,’ Flynn said. ‘Would you like to play with me or Peter?’
What? This wasn’t what she had expected. She glared from one to the other while Flynn grinned at her. She was going to kill him for this. Kill him stone dead and scatter his body
parts over the manure heap.
Summer unclenched her teeth and forced the words out. ‘Please, Sir, would you like to spank me?’
Highwayman gestured at Flynn. ‘In that case, go for it, sir. I love watching you in action.’
‘Of course.’ Before she could blink, Flynn had caught her around the waist and flipped her so that she was ass-upwards over his knee. Instinctively, she put her hands down on the carpet to balance herself. Her toes barely reached the ground, but Flynn’s strong arm held her securely in position.
Almost before she could register her position, his hand flashed down in a series of quick spanks. It stung, bright and hot. She wanted to yell in outrage, but the sound of his hand hitting her latex dress was shockingly loud and attracted the attention of everyone in the room. If she called him the names she wanted to, everyone would notice.
She set her teeth and silently vowed to kill him.
A dozen spanks later, he let her up and helped her to her feet. ‘What do you say?’ The unholy grin on his face showed he knew her dilemma.
‘Thank you, Master.’ Killing was too good for him. She was going to have him tortured for eternity.
‘You may rub.’
On those words, the heat in her rear end blossomed and she couldn’t help rubbing to relieve it. Oh yeah, the man was mincemeat.
Highwayman tipped his tricorne to her, and departed.
‘He’s gone. You can stop pretending now,’ she told Flynn
His demeanour had changed too. Gone was the playful Dom. The efficient bodyguard who despised his principal was back. ‘Why? Isn’t this what you wanted? Some cheap titillation for a bored little rich girl.’
‘It wasn’t like that,’ she snapped. ‘Molly and I have been planning this for months.’ She had said too much. She could almost see Flynn filing that particular piece of information away for later.
‘What was it that you wanted?’ His eyes raked the minuscule dress. ‘A chance to dress up like a tart? Being a Saturday night submissive so that you could gossip with the girls over Sunday brunch?’
