by Hélène Soper
“Try to remember all you’ve accomplished and how happy that amazing little girl of yours is.”
Avery smiled at the thought of Cassie running in the schoolyard with her friends. Happy. Carefree. Her precious daughter had been her salvation through arduous therapy sessions combing through the detritus left in Cal’s wake. She vowed Cassie would never become a victim like she had.
“I know you’re right. I’ll do my best. This new job has my brain occupied so I won’t spend every waking moment paralyzed with fear. It’s a good thing. Speaking of…I need to get to the office for an editorial meeting.”
Avery put their mugs in the dishwasher, checked to make sure every appliance was turned off, and flipped every window lock on the main floor. Once she was satisfied she nodded to Gryff, picked up her purse and computer bag, and headed to the front door.
They left the house and headed to their cars. Her mom waved goodbye as she pulled out of the driveway after seeing Cassie safely to her bus. Avery felt safe tucked into Gryff’s side. He gave her a friendly kiss on the top of her head and said goodbye, ushering her into her car and closing the driver’s door. Too bad she couldn’t spend her day wrapped in his protective embrace. Cal wouldn’t actually hurt her or Cassie again. The note was just him playing mind games with her. Right?
Damn it all to hell and back! Years after he was put away Cal Winters still had power in her life. No point even entertaining the notion of seeing Luc again beyond their scheduled interview. Why would a successful, gorgeous, put-together man want a single mother who had a potential stalker and a crazy ex who just got out of jail? He wouldn’t. Period.
Sadness overwhelmed her, sinking into her shoulders, defeating her before she gave herself a chance to explore the chemistry between them. The way her body effortlessly surrendered to his demands both scared her down to her toes and brought her a sense of peace she couldn’t ever remember feeling.
But she refused to relinquish control of her body, of herself, to a man no matter how incredible that orgasm was. Avery pounded the heels of her hands on the steering wheel, pain reverberating up her arms, reminding her of her strength and resilience. “I’m not that fragile woman anymore. I don’t need a man to validate who I am or make me feel safe. I won’t allow my power to be taken by anyone ever again.”
A shot of adrenalin did a girl good. Her morose mood succumbed to the energy boost. She closed her eyes and took in a few deep cleansing breaths to bring her heartbeat down to a dull roar. Fuck you, Cal Winters. I’ll never be anyone’s doormat again.
Avery put the car in reverse, checked the rearview mirror, and pulled onto the road. Her peripheral vision caught an unfamiliar car pulling away from the curb across the street. Odd in her neighborhood. That cold chill snaked up her spine again, this time its grip was unrelenting.
“Do not get blood in my car, imbecile!”
“Yes, Avtoritet. I’m sorry. I didn’t notice the rose bushes in the backyard, Avtoritet.”
“I do not understand what Father saw in you. Why he protect you in prison? Why he make you part of my crew when you got out?”
The Avtoritet didn’t care about the tone of voice used when dealing with underlings. They were necessary. They were the muscle. They could not be trusted. Father taught well.
When the time was right Father would resume his rightful place as Avtoritet, not that he ever relinquished the role. They needed to keep up appearances, so Father could be released without challenge by law enforcement. Which was why the honorific was passed temporarily for safekeeping. He would be generous with rewards because his business would have grown under the direction of his loyal offspring and his honor avenged. Avenged for the indignity Father endured when he was convicted of tax evasion. A man of his stature jailed for such a minor infraction made a mockery of everything their family had built. When the time was right, he would be avenged.
It was fortuitous that an unforeseen opening to punish Luc Christianson, the lawyer responsible for Father’s prosecution, had presented itself. The Avtoritet always profited from opportunities, planned or otherwise. Being in the right place at the right time was not luck, Father taught, it was diligence. And, having a creative mind to see the benefit to the organization was a skill honed by its leader.
“Tell me.”
“She definitely saw the envelope and what was inside.”
“Good. What was her reaction?”
“The windows were closed so I couldn’t hear anything, but she was definitely scared. The message was a good first step.”
A sharp thrill coursed through the Avtoritet’s bloodthirsty bones. “Good. You have proven to be of some use to me. Lucky for you.”
The front door of the house opened to reveal the woman and a man leaving. The man scanned the surrounding area methodically and kept his body in front of the woman. Just like a cop. They drove away in separate cars.
“The bitch does not look scared now. Are you sure it was fear you saw?”
“Yes, Avtoritet. Fear was written all over her face. I am very familiar with that look.” The underling snorted, not happy his report was being questioned by his boss.
“Do not get self-righteous with me! It is because of me that we are using the woman. You are just a convenient messenger.”
The underling schooled his expression, duly chastised.
“Who is the cop?”
“Fucking asshole. Detective Gryffin Calder, Niagara Regional Police. He’s the cop who convinced her to press charges that got me sent up. They were friends in high school or something. She’s probably banging him too. Slut.”
“I do not need your juvenile commentary. I do not care what you think. Your job is to do as I say and report to me. I will do the thinking.”
“Yes, Avtoritet.”
“They are not fucking. They do not behave like lovers. Their embrace looked more like brother and sister. If you were more observant you would know this.”
“Yes, Avtoritet.” Disdain laced the man’s words.
A loud smack filled the car interior, catching the man off guard. His head reeled back from the force of the slap across the face, causing the side of his face to bounce off the driver’s side window.
“How dare you disrespect me!” Teeth were bared and the Avtoritet’s voice sounded feral, guttural. “Drive.”
“Yes, Avtoritet.”
The underling gingerly twisted in his seat to face the steering wheel, lit the ignition, and pulled onto the street. His eyes checked the back seat often, unsure if next time it would only be a hand that struck his head.
6
Luc had spent the day catching up on paperwork that had piled up from the few days he had been on the road. He glanced up from his computer to see Gryff strolling toward his office.
“What are you doing at this end of town?”
“Nice to see you too, buddy.” Gryff chuckled. “You have dinner plans? We could grab a bite then head over to the House.”
Bacchus House was an institution in Niagara, for those who knew about it. The House was a members-only club for folks who liked to get their kink on in the safety and privacy of those who shared the same interests. The refurbished barn, which served as the main building, was perched on a ridge at the back of the Hunter family’s vineyard, surrounded by stands of virgin Carolinian forest. The irony wasn’t lost on the members — virgin forest surrounding a club where sexual fantasies came to life. That little fact just added to the charm of the place. Rick Hunter, Luc’s dad, Billy, and Gryff’s late father, Thomas, were the House’s founding members.
“I could use you in a training scene. You look like you need to unwind.”
“That obvious?”
Gryff always seemed to know when Luc needed to blow off steam. Gryff had mentored Luc when he and Sydney began exploring Dominance and submission all those years ago. After Syd and their daughter, Ella, died Luc took the requisite courses, honed his skills and earned Master status at the House. The BDSM community was a salvation. D/s
helped Luc focus on something powerful within himself other than the grief that had a vise encasing his heart.
Luc and Gryff met a few hours later at a quiet bistro not far from the House. They both knew the place well — the food was delicious and they featured local wines. They placed their orders, but alcohol wasn’t included. The House had strict rules — only two drinks were allowed on nights you played. R.A.C.K — Risk-Aware Consensual Kink — couldn’t take place under the influence of alcohol.
“It’s been great to have you around for more than the occasional visit. I’m sure your dad appreciates it too.”
“Yeah, I’ve still got a lot to learn, but it feels right to be back home in Niagara and at Sky Hill.”
“Thanks again for taking Avery home the other night. Did I see that spark between you two reignite?”
“Why would you ask me that?” Luc’s forehead creased as his eyebrows drew together.
“You know I’m not one to butt into anyone’s business, but I know where you are, and I know what she’s been through. She’s got a big heart except it’s still not whole. She needs someone who can be fully engaged in a relationship. Not just a fuck buddy.”
Luc’s mood quickly soured. He’d had his one shot in life at true love. Sydney was the love of his life. She’d been it for him. Now he was alone. Syd’s death had shut down his entire being. Casual sex was all he could offer. And subs knew the drill before they entered into negotiations for a scene with him. When Luc played, feelings were never part of the scene. He’d buried his feelings with his girls.
“Why do you care? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Luc’s tone had more of a bite than he intended. What was it about Avery that made him go all caveman?
“Whoa, it’s not what you think.” Gryff held up both hands in front of his body and leaned back in his chair. “Avery and I are friends. Good friends. Nothing more. I helped her through a tough time, so I know what makes her tick. And I also know you, buddy. I know you’re not ready to give her what she needs and deserves. She is a wonderful woman. I care about you both and only want the best for both of you. So, calm that shit down.”
Luc raked his hands through his hair, leaned back in his seat, and looked heavenward as if to ask for guidance.
“Sorry, man. I can’t get her out of my mind. I don’t remember the last time I felt something other than straight-up lust in the context of negotiated scenes. Maybe it’s because we’ve known each other so long that there isn’t that initial getting-to-know-you awkwardness. But, you’re right. I’m in no shape to offer more than a scene. She’s a sub, right?”
“She is. But she’s not in the lifestyle anymore. Just be careful. You hurt her, and I may have to take sides.”
A chuckle softened his words; however, they both knew he was serious. Luc’s curiosity was definitely piqued. He wanted to know more about the woman who invaded his thoughts.
“Why doesn’t she play anymore? Something to do with the situation you helped her through? Is that why you think she’s so fragile?”
“I’m not comfortable sharing Avery’s confidences. If and when she’s ready to tell you, she will. For the record, she’s not fragile. She’s one of the strongest, most resilient women I’ve ever known.”
Luc sighed. Gryff would never betray a confidence. He shouldn’t have asked. Still, he wanted to learn more about what had happened to Avery between high school and now.
The mention of her name kicked up his heartbeat and sparked fantasies with her luscious lips and succulent breasts in starring roles. He could still taste her honey on his tongue, which emboldened his cock to act on his own volition. She awakened hunger in places he didn’t think were still alive. The question now was, what was he going to do about it?
7
It was a crisp, clear night in Niagara Wine Country. The moon and stars blanketed the sky like they were close enough to touch. Luc and Gryff pulled into the long driveway that led to Bacchus House, inserted a member’s card into the security card slot, and waited for the ornate wrought iron gates to open. Luc glanced up as he walked to the front door from the parking lot. Was Avery also admiring the night sky? He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air.
“Hello, Master Gryff. Hello, Master Luc. Nice to have you both with us this evening.”
Both men nodded toward the impeccably groomed, well-muscled sentry who held the door open for them. Luc and Gryff went over the plan for the training scene while they changed from their street clothes into their leathers in the Dom lounge.
Marlowe Hunter met Luc and Gryff in the viewing room.
“We have three new Doms tonight. Two have previous experience at other clubs, the third is new to the lifestyle. He’s a natural Dom and I see great potential in him. We’ll be in the viewing room as usual. You’ll take the sub through some basic stuff, nothing too intense. She claims to be experienced, though new to the House. Her name is Lily.”
Doms and subs new to the House were required to participate in an introductory training program overseen by Gryff. Marlowe, Rick Hunter’s daughter, now ran the club and was a stickler for protocol, training, and respect.
Gryff took over the briefing. “She’s considering taking out a membership with us and volunteered for this training session to get a feel for how we operate. She knows our Red, Yellow, and Green safeword protocols. Her hard limits are permanent marks, blood, and needle play. Intercourse is a soft limit. As you proceed, I will be explaining the techniques and psychology behind the various aspects of the scene. You know the drill. Your sub is being prepared right now. Any questions?”
Gryff slipped into his Dom persona as easily as a favorite pair of well-worn jeans. Master Gryff was part of the essence of who he was. As a detective, he was an expert in stripping away façades to get to the core of who a person was. Skills that made him a sought-after trainer in their community.
For Luc, Dominance was part of the armor donned when he walked into the club. A force shield to lock down emotions. Emotions that would flay wounds that still haunted him. As a result, when Master Luc played, the foundation of his scenes centered on quenching baser needs with a ferocity he didn’t dare unleash on an inexperienced sub. When they both got off, he was done. Cool detachment had become his trademark.
“I’m ready when you are, Master Gryff,” Luc said as he slapped his buddy’s back.
Luc exited the viewing room and entered the scene room next door.
Master Luc quickly surveyed the well-equipped room, planning his scene. An oversized bed with a simple red satin fitted sheet took center stage, a leather-covered spanking bench was off to the side, a St. Andrew’s Cross dominated the back of the room, and a long counter with a sink and towels surrounded by every sex toy you could imagine ran the length of the room.
A vision invaded his mind and stole his breath — Avery’s sweet ass bared to him as she lay over the bench, ankles bound, his red marks of ownership displayed so perfectly across her ivory skin. Back in high school, the lovely but shy girl was the subject of many of his lust-filled masturbation sessions. Sure, he’d had sex since Syd’s death. But it was just that, sex. Avery felt different. He wanted more than just a scene with her and wasn’t that a betrayal of Sydney’s trust, her memory? Guilt washed over him.
He closed his eyes, channeled his years of martial arts training to find his inner strength and harness it. He took in several cleansing breaths as he quieted his mind and focused on the scene about to begin and his responsibilities within it.
“Are you ready for your sub, Master Luc?” The door opened and another perfectly coiffed and chiseled man dressed in the requisite leather pants and red armband signifying his role as a DM, Dungeon Monitor, pulled Luc back to the task at hand.
“Yes, Master Trent. I am.”
Luc turned his back on the door and walked over to the toys to run his hands over a riding crop, feeling the supple leather, checking for sharp stitches.
The rustle of lingerie and soft breathing tun
ed Luc’s attention to the woman in the room. Trent’s heavier footfalls and a barely perceptible snick of the door told Luc he was alone with her. Master Luc was present.
Luc’s breath lodged in his throat when he gazed upon the beautiful blonde on her knees. She was blindfolded, hands bound behind her back, head gently bowed in a well-practiced posture, awaiting his instruction. Memories of Sydney flooded his brain.
The hair on the back of Luc’s neck stood up. Based on the roar that exploded in his head, recognition diverted all the blood from his musculature to his ears. What the hell was she doing here? There was no way Lily would follow him to his club in Niagara. They had played in Toronto, and she didn’t know anything about him. She didn’t even know his last name. Personal details were rarely exchanged in pick-up play when both parties understood their scene would be a one-time-thing. Anonymity protected Dominants and submissives alike.
Channeling every morsel of training he could remember, he shook off the chill that engulfed his spine, took several calming breaths and focused his attention on the sub who had placed her trust in him. He chalked Lily’s presence in this training room up to coincidence. He could do this. He was Master Luc.
Only, it didn’t feel like a coincidence.
“We’re ready when you are.”
Gryff’s command through the speaker was loud and clear. He had to make this work even though he had unequivocally no desire to scene with Lily again. Luc deepened his voice, hoping to conceal his identity.
“You look beautiful, sweet sub. You are mine for this scene. You may call me Sir. You have been made aware there are Doms-in-training observing us. Don’t think about them. Focus only on me, the sound of my voice. Do you understand?”
Lily’s mouth twitched. Her head tilted toward him, processing the sensory inputs available. “Yes, Sir!”
“What’s your safeword?”
“Red.”
“Red what, sub?” He couldn’t allow any break in protocol. Everything had to be perfect to allow Gryff to find the teachable moments for the trainees.