Shelter in Place: Quarantine Romance Collection Includes New Novella

by Jamie Knight

  “Oh shit,” giggles Britney, “I’ve heard rumors about places like this, but to actually stumble upon one? Holy fucking God,” she breathes. “Now this is perfect for birthday celebration!”

  As she is whispering, I’m watching in a confusing mix of horror, excitement and embarrassment as other couples are threading through us: for one pair, one is in a collar, while the other is holding the leash. Some even are wearing hoods.

  I’m so embarrassed by the surroundings, I can’t get myself to focus on anything. I keep following Britney, barely realizing that we are being taken to a table close to the bar/kitchen. Our waitress is scantily clad, but between my discomfort at all the weird noises (people seem to enjoy getting flicked with leather), I don’t care.

  I can barely believe what I feel happening between my legs, either. I’m feeling tight and hot. Like I might actually be finding this interesting, the surroundings to my liking. This is a fact that my military upbringing squeals and cries against, but that only succeeds in making me even more hot and tight.

  We are shown to our seats as I have that realization, and it’s not long before the same scantily-clad waitress takes our orders for drinks.

  Within seconds of her disappearing, we are approached by a tall, sinfully-gorgeous woman. Think Marilyn Monroe, but with slightly longer hair. She smiles generously at us, particularly paying attention to me.

  “Glad to have you with us tonight, ladies. I am Lady White, the owner of this slice of paradise. But please do be aware.” Long, dark eyelashes size me up. “If you’re going to stay, ladies, if you desire to be our guests, you will need to participate in tonight’s festivities. Not just giggle or gawk.”

  And this is when I feel something worse than panic. The need to make a nervous, stress-related trip to the bathroom.

  Chapter 3 - Jake

  You know what they say about novelty: it only works so long as you don’t beat it to the ground, so long as you don’t OD. And me? I’ve OD’ed on Lady White and her house of pleasures, Club Lush, much too often lately.

  But what else is a man of my age to do with my ridiculous amounts of money? The fact that the stock markets have been good to me, a farm boy from Idaho who knew nothing about finances?

  When money and women come to you as easily as they do me, you find yourself getting into habits, even when you know you’re bored of them, even when you know you want more, you can’t get out of your rut. Not even if you want to, like I do. Desperately.

  I’m at the bar, watching the women without a partner in the club tonight. I’m watching their body language, their cues for just the right amount of submissiveness.

  As I drink down my shot of scotch, I know that none of them are going to do it for me. Not even the “baby girls” — the most submissive of the submissive types, those aren’t going to do it for me. Not tonight, probably not ever.

  I like to dominate. I like to have a woman who does what I say, how I say, when I say. But I want more than just a woman who can follow orders. I want one who trusts me to do right by her, and to guide her into a world of freedom, despite being under my control— I want a woman who’s truly new.

  I need someone truly virginal in her experience. Who doesn’t just know how to act innocent or unsure, but really, truly is.

  Just thinking about a woman like that — a pretty young thing who values honesty over manipulation, and wants to play for fun, not just to game — that makes me hot and heavy. Hungry and restless, but also disenchanted.

  After coming here every night for the past couple months, and not finding a woman like that among the regular clubgoers, or the rare guests, I’m beginning to lose hope of that ever being a reality.

  I finish off my drink, waving away the bartender when she asks me if I want another. “No, no thank you, Katie. That will do for me.”

  I push myself out of my leaning position against the bar, and pay my tab.

  No amount of drinking is going to make up for the fact that I don’t have a proper sub. No amount of carousing is going to make up for the fact that I’m bored, lonely and irritated with such typical selection.

  I pay with cash, not card.

  Billionaires like me (though I’m self-made) tend to prefer paper over plastic, especially in clubs like these.

  As I turn to get away from the bar, and maybe even get out of the club, I see her. A young woman trailing a whole group of them. By the looks of surprise and interest on most of the female faces in this new group, it’s clear to me that they’ve stumbled in here.

  They’ve taken a trip down into this rabbit hole by accident, but are enjoying the ride. But the woman I’m interested in, the one at the back (or trying to be), she looks like a doe in the headlights. She looks like a sweet little kitten, afraid of being drowned.

  Her friends are having to practically drag her after the waitress. As I tell the bartender to keep the change, I can’t help it: I chuckle at the young woman’s distress. At the look of pure terror she has on her face.

  But, along with the terror, I also see something else. Something I know she feels and fears: interest. Intrigue about what’s going on around her, even as it frightens and disturbs her.

  As their waitress shows them to a table, I slink closer. I watch my doe-eyed girl. I enjoy the brightness of her blue eyes against her flushed cheeks. How her long, bright blonde hair frames her face like a platinum heart.

  I chuckle again, feeling my body and crotch warming. Even without hearing a word from her mouth, I’m imagining how soft and trembling her voice is. I’m imagining how small and soft her body would feel against mine. How breathy and light her lips would be on mine. On my cock, or anywhere else I told her to put them.

  Unconsciously, I bring my hand down to my crotch. Push the eager boy down, telling him to behave himself.

  What a treat, I muse. What a tender, gentle soul she is.

  I watch her large, liquid eyes fight a losing battle between keeping them pinned in her lap, and scanning her surroundings.

  She had no idea what kind of place this was when she walked in. She thinks she doesn’t want to be in a place like this, but she’s enjoying it. She doesn’t want to. She thinks she’s too innocent and “daddy’s little girl” for that — watching her fidget and wiggle in her seat screams that little bit of information at me— you’re interested. You’re intrigued. I’d love to be able to whet that appetite. I think I just might, if you stay around after Lady White gives you the rundown.

  Click here to read Training His Virgin!

  I'll teach her how to please me. For tonight and forever.

  As a billionaire, I'm used to getting what I want at Club Lush.

  Innocent, obedient virgins are always mine for the taking there.

  Things are getting old but then I meet curvy Melissa.

  She's ready to submit to me, for her very first time.

  It's her 21st birthday and I have the perfect gift for her.

  But it's so big she might not be able to receive it.

  I have to train her to deserve what I have to offer.

  Soon, though, I'm deep into Melissa- and not just physically.

  I never thought I was a one-woman kind of guy.

  But now I want to tie her down in more ways than one.

  Is this just for one night or am I hooked on her for good?

  Training His Virgin is the complete collection of the Club Lush series of steamy romance novellas, which can be read on their own but are best enjoyed all together.

  This box set also contains an exclusive, new, never before published story called Tying Down His Virgin, which is an extended epilogue to Melissa and Jake's story from Binding His Virgin.

  Jamie Knight promises to always bring you a happy ever after filled with plenty of heat. And never any cheating or cliffhangers!

  Click here to read Training His Virgin!

  Click here to see all my books in my entire catalogue!

  Jamie Knight –

  Your Dirty Little Secret Roman
ce Author

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  Thanks for reading!

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