I slam my hand on the bar. “Exactly. Usually, I’m okay. I like helping people. So far, it’s never been a problem, and you know that.
“But…”
With a sigh, I finish for him, “But with her, it’s become a real struggle, and one I lost last night.”
He frowns. “So this isn’t just theoretical, then. How does she feel about it?”
“She’s in love. Fuck, she’s doing everything she can to draw me in. I can’t talk about her details, obviously. Client confidentiality, but obviously there’s a reason she came to me in the first place. Given the nature of how we met, there’s a distinct possibility she’s more in love with the idea of me, rather than with the actual me.” I spin my glass in place, watching the Coke swirl while I work through my thoughts.
“Well, you know how this works. Communication is key. In the bedroom as much as the playroom. Talk to her.”
“Yeah, I try, but it’s awfully distracting. I go in full of good intentions, and then suddenly we’re naked, she’s tied up and we’re going to town.”
This time, Gabe barks out a surprised laugh. “Fuck, man, you’ve got it bad.”
Over a sip, I nod. “Tell me about it.”
There’s a bit of a pause before he sighs. “All right, listen. I’m generally a live and let live kind of guy. I don’t encourage breaking the law, but I’ve stretched a few here and there in my life. Ask Dawn how we met sometime.” He grins at some private recollection. “But here’s a question for you. Are you sure you’re not abusing your power? You’ve found someone who gets you all fired up, and maybe, just maybe, has you overlooking the fact that she also needs help. That’s why she came to you in the first place.”
“You’re absolutely right. That’s the most dangerous part. If I lose my license, I fuck my own life up, but if I fuck hers up, that’s a whole other story. That would be not only failing at my job, but failing her. We’re so closely entangled, it’s hard to tell where the professional ends and the personal starts.”
“So you should quit her then.”
Probably, but I’m not sure I can at this point. “I’ve helped her. I’m helping her. I know I am. She’s getting more confident, and she’s… well, she’s responding and moving in the right direction. Our relationship, at least in this case, is helping her get where she wants and providing her with a safe haven to land in at the same time.”
“So it is a problem or not? If she’s happy, and you’re happy, are you maybe just overthinking things?”
“That’s what I want to think. She won’t get out of my head, and the longer she’s there, the less I want her to. We help the people we love, don’t we? That only makes it better.”
Gabe reaches over the bar to put his hand on my shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I think life’s too short to give up on true love.” At my look, he grins. “So sue me, I’m a fucking romantic. Now, I’ll freely admit that this is probably not sensible advice, but meeting the right one is pretty fucking special. If you really think that’s her, well… I’d at least consider giving it a try. But that’s me, not you.”
“So you don’t think I’m nuts?”
“Jury’s out on that one.” He grins. “But ask yourself this. Is this what’s best for her? Or are you just rationalizing because you don’t want to let go?” A small group of older kinksters come in and settle around one of the tables. Gabe waves to them. “Anyway, got to help these people out. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to think about, anyway.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Thanks.”
“Good luck, man. I think you’re going to need it.”
Now that’s the truth. My phone buzzes, and I pull it out absentmindedly. It’s a message from Miranda.
I’m almost done at work. Is it too soon to ask for a repeat of last night? ;)
Images of a naked and moaning Miranda flash briefly through my head. Just long enough to make my pants go tight. Fuck yeah, I’d love a repeat. That’s not in question. But should I?
My training screams no.
My cock demands yes.
And my heart doesn’t know what the fuck to do. But I definitely know which part of my body it’s the busiest pumping blood to right now. Up for a night at the club? A BDSM date for real?
Her reply is almost immediate. Friday night? I have a late shift tomorrow, and I promised Mom we’d spend tonight together.
I could still back out. Sounds great. I’ll pick you up.
But I obviously won’t.
How about I meet you there? I have a surprise planned for you, but I won’t be able to show you at home. ;)
With that kind of cliffhanger, there’s no way I’m backing out now. This girl’s going to be the end of me.
I just hope I don’t return the favor.
20
Miranda
The powerful sound system at the club thrums with heavy bass beats that reverberate in the core of my gut and threaten to bounce my breasts right out of my dress. It drives the sexualized melee on the dance floor, while colored lights flit back and forth, lighting the dancers in intricate patterns that match the rhythm of the music. As usual, the dress code spans from formal to nothing at all, and everything in between. Friday nights are a madhouse, when not only the regulars show up in force, but all the weekend warriors start to make their appearances too. Normally I prefer when it’s not quite so crowded, but tonight is special.
I have a date. In a BDSM club.
I even dressed the part, and Keegan had better appreciate it. Wearing this outfit in public is spiking my anxiety through the roof. The woman at the coat check had to nearly pry my coat from my fingers. I was so close to chickening out.
Very self-consciously, I tug the hem of my black latex mini-dress, which clings to my curves like Saran Wrap. It made me feel like a bondage queen in front of the mirror at home, but now I worry that I’m showing just a little more bulge than I should be. It keeps riding up my thighs, but when I pull it down, I’m terrified that I’m going to pop right out on top. Add in a pair of latex gloves that go up past my elbows, knee-high leather boots with thick heels and buckles all over the place and a sturdy leather collar with a steel ring in front, and you get a woman who’s dressed to kill but feeling really awkward about it.
Keegan’s jaw drops when he sees me. He’s waiting inside the door and when he looks me up and down, I can see him trying to decide which part to eat up first. “Holy fuck,” he lets out. The hungry look on his face blasts away all my awkwardness.
I rub my lips together, feeling the silky slide of my red lipstick. “Did I do okay?”
He grins like a starving wolf. “Oh yeah, you did. If you don’t come with me right now, I’m going to pick you up and carry you off to our room. You look fucking amazing.”
Maybe I should’ve warned him, so he could’ve put on something to match. Then again, it’s not like he isn’t looking great. No suit today, but the way those jeans hug his leg and his tight gray T-shirt stretches across his broad chest… well, I’m sure not complaining. His hair is slightly mussed, but probably very much on purpose, and he’s cleanly shaven for that smooth feeling when he’s down between my legs.
Oh, I did not just think that.
Oh, yes I did.
I press my face into his chest so he won’t see me blush. “And I’m going to have to fight off every other woman here on the way to the playroom so nobody steals you away.”
He laughs, his chest rumbling in my ear. “No chance of that.”
“And my outfit, it’s not too—”
“It’s not too anything.” He hooks a finger under my chin and tilts my face up to his. With a sinful smile, he closes in for a kiss. It’s warm and wet and sexy and everything. The desire in his touch gets my heart racing.
When he pulls away, I have to catch my breath. “We have a room?”
“You bet your sweet ass we do.”
“Lead on.” Adrenaline already has my heart pounding. And a bit lower, too. I lick my lips, loving how his e
yes follow the motion of my tongue, and then I tack on, “Sir.”
He doesn’t say anything, just holds my upper arm with a steel grip and steers me along. Not that I need the encouragement, because I follow him eagerly.
My stomach tumbles over and over, like a butterfly colony doing somersaults. This is it. The real thing. I never thought I’d dare to do this. It’s a biggest middle finger ever raised to my insecurities, fears and most of all, to my father’s painful legacy. I’m going in there with Keegan, not with therapy as an excuse, but just because I want to.
If that’s not an achievement, I don’t know what is.
We squeeze through the dancefloor. Today it’s so packed that not even Keegan’s broad shape can keep a path open for long. I feel like an envelope from Amazon forced through the mail slot by an overzealous mailman. I get through, but maybe a bit ruffled at the edges.
Despite my excitement, I’m also terrified. Now that I’ve finally gotten what I wanted, what if I screw it up? Or what if I can’t handle it? I trust Keegan, but this has gone almost too smoothly.
He glances over his shoulder to make sure I’m keeping up, and gives me a reassuring smile. I smile back. I shouldn’t worry. This is going to be fine. I’ve got it under control.
Even the corridor is crowded tonight. We come out into the play area so suddenly, I half expect to hear the pop. At least once we’re in, there’s a bit more room to move. There’s a demo on the center stage, a long-haired woman demonstrating shibari macramé. She’s woven her curvy model a complete set of underwear from brightly colored purple and neon green rope. The model twirls on the stage to show off her outfit while the audience claps. Impressive, and normally I’d be standing there watching with the rest of them, but I’m having a hard time tearing my gaze away from Keegan.
Amber bears down on us out of left field, tearing me out of Keegan’s grasp and wrapping her arms around me in a laughing bear hug before she pulls back, holding me at arm’s length by my shoulders. “Oh my God, look at you. You’re gorgeous!” I don’t even get a word in before she barrels on. “I knew it. I told you so. I totally did.”
I can’t contain the laugh. “Fine. Okay. You did. Are you happy now?”
She glances briefly at Keegan before she looks back at me, giving me the once over. “Yeah. I think I am. Anyway, Eric’s on his way over, and I want to grab a playroom before they fill up, so I’m going to leave you kids to your fun.” She stops long enough to take both of my hands in hers and pull me into another hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
“You’re crazy,” I laugh but I hug her back.
Keegan wraps his strong arms around me as Amber walks away. “You know, I’m a little surprised you wanted to come here so soon,” he says into my hair before kissing the top of my head.
“Why? I was the one who asked you, remember?”
“I know, but this is a big step. You’ve been watching this from the outside for a long time. It has to be strange to finally be taking part.” His grip tightens, as if I might run. “But you’re here. Amber’s not the only one who’s proud of you.”
“Good thing I’m cured, right?” I grin up at him, while I run my fingers over the front of his T-shirt, tracing the tight muscles hiding underneath.
He smiles, but it looks a little unsure. “I still think we should try to take it slow. I don’t want you trading old problems for new ones.”
I’m not crazy about him giving voice to my doubts. Not that he’s doing anything wrong, but I’ve been trying to push them to the back of my mind. My anxiety is prone to assaulting my confidence and stuffing it into a closet, like some sort of brain home invader. If I let my doubts free, I’m going to back out, and I don’t want to.
It’s funny. A couple of weeks ago, you couldn’t have dragged me into the private rooms here, but after what’s happened between us, now I’m dying for more. There might be butterflies in my stomach, but there’s also a smoldering just a little further down that’s waiting for him to stir it up with his poker.
So to speak.
“So what was your plan for our date,” I prod.
“Good question. To start, maybe watch for a while, get comfortable with the idea of participating, take it step by step, little by little.” He laughs at my pout. “Until we’re panting like animals and fucking up against one of the walls.” His hand at my waist slides up towards my breast, stopping right beneath it.
Consider my smoldering core stoked.
I swallow deeply. “Um, listen.”
“Too fast?”
With a confidence I wish I felt, I make sure there’s no turning back. “No. I was going to say, can we skip over those first couple of steps, pretend that we did them and just move straight to the private room to work on the part with the panting?”
21
Keegan
Well, so much for taking it easy. Grinning down at the most beautiful woman in the entire club right after she just begged me to drag her off and have my way with her, I can’t deny my jeans just got way tighter. What happened to the shy girl who came into my office a couple of weeks ago, terrified to give in to her urges?
That girl certainly wouldn’t be wearing that sexy dress for me. It hugs Miranda’s sleek curves so tightly, it’s making me jealous of a damn piece of latex. I’ve wanted to peel it off since I first spotted her.
At this point, I’d love to buff my nails against my shirt and claim that her newfound bravery is all me, but at most, I triggered it. It was simmering under the surface the whole time, because no one changes this fast. Miranda was ready, she just needed a push in the right direction.
Talking with Gabe has made me feel a lot better about my feelings for Miranda. It helped to have someone else confirm that there probably is something different about her, and that difference is worth pursuing.
I hope.
But right now, we’re here to have fun. Not overthink things “You sure you’re ready to dive straight in?”
“I’ve been thinking about you—about this—without stop since I stayed at your place.” She grips my forearm with both hands, her face a mask of determination. “Every time I’ve…” She swallows and blushes bright pink. Her lips pinch shut.
“You can’t start like that and not finish. Every time you’ve what?”
Miranda’s voice is so small I can barely hear it. “Every time I’ve… played with myself.” She looks away, her face a veritable beacon in the dim lighting of the club. “I’ve been thinking of when you and I could… you know.”
Immediately, my mind is flooded by images of her naked, on her bed, her fingers between her legs and her back arching as she comes. And she’s been thinking about me while doing it. I nearly growl as I cradle her cheek in my hand and force her to look right at me. “You’re going to show me.”
Her eyes widen. “I’m… what?”
“Call me Sir.”
She swallows nervously. “Yes… Sir.”
“I’m going to take you to a private room, where you’re going to take off that dress.” I watch in pleasure as she nods, her lips parted and her eyes glazed with lust. “Then you’re going to lie down, spread those sexy legs and you’re going to play with yourself while I watch. I’m going to watch you make yourself come.”
She doesn’t answer, but licks her lips.
“Do you understand what I’ll expect of you?”
With a nod, she replies softly, “Yes, Sir.”
“And after you come, I’m going to make you come again, and again. I’m going to wear you out tonight.” Seeing how her breasts rise and fall with her heavy breathing pushes me to grab her wrists and pin them down at the small of her back while pressing her against my chest. “Do you think you can handle that?”
“Yes, Sir.” No hesitation, no nervousness. Just determination. I like that in my sub. And I love it in Miranda.
“Good.” I flip her around so I’m still holding her wrists tightly in one hand, but now she’s facing away from me. “Start walking.” Amber s
ees me marching Miranda towards our room and waves. I nod back in acknowledgement, and then we’re down the hallway with the private rooms.
Our room is the fifth one down. I stop Miranda in front, slide the key card I reserved earlier to unlock it and pull the door open. With the coast clear, I push her in ahead of me before locking the door behind us.
The rooms are pretty much the same, barring a couple of specialty areas, but we can save those for later. This is her first time playing without the guise of therapy and this room has everything we’ll need tonight, and then some. A stocked rack of most any kind of whipping equipment you might imagine. A spanking bench, a St. Andrew’s Cross, a leather couch—good for both play and aftercare—a shelf with toys, soy wax, everything. All of it shrink-wrapped and clean. Gabe is nothing if not professional.
But I don’t need any of that, at least not yet.
Miranda’s about to unzip her dress, but I raise my hand. “Wait. I’m going to undress you. Stand still until I tell you to move.”
She starts, giving me a quick look before dropping her gaze. “Yes, Sir,” she replies demurely. She lets her hands fall to her sides and waits for me.
I start by walking a slow circle around her, taking her sexy form in from every angle. The beautiful fall of her golden hair, the full curve of her breasts, the way her ass completes her hourglass figure in a way that makes me want to cover her fair skin with my marks. But there’ll be time for that afterwards.
She doesn’t turn her head, but she follows me with her eyes to the degree that she can. Her lips are just barely parted and she swallows often. I put my fingers gently against her throat, sliding the tips from just underneath her jaw to down into the hollow, where they bump against the top of her collar. Goosebumps pop up in their wake. Moving to her back, I lean in to place kisses on her exposed shoulder and up towards her neck.
Trust Me: A BDSM Romance Page 13
