by Stacey Lynn
Like every Friday night, the place was packed. The risk of anyone hearing us or paying attention to us was minimal.
Plus, I didn’t care.
“Yes.” My answer was irrevocable and certain. “I did.”
She’d asked, doubtful curiosity rimming her eyes. I didn’t hide things from her, though, and in truth, I wanted to tell her about this.
I hadn’t realized until Anya wrapped her arms around me when I met up with her how much I needed this night. How tense I’d been all week until I was in her arms. Despite enjoying myself with Jensen, it was also stressing me out.
I was a planner. I kept schedules and had a laminated cleaning list on my fridge. I had lists of to-do lists and a calendar overflowing with reminders with alerts sent to my email and my phone. Getting involved with Jensen, even in one week, had done a number on my need to control certain aspects of my life. While I loved the submission, being able to loosen the hold on my control, waiting for him to make the first move constantly left me on pins and needles.
It didn’t mean I didn’t want to continue this further. The lines Jensen had originally drawn were already becoming blurred. If they disintegrated further, I didn’t know how I’d be able to keep my heart from being unattached.
I needed to protect myself even while I explored.
“What are you thinking?” I asked Anya, realizing she’d been quiet since my admission.
A faint pink color tinged her cheeks and she licked her lips. “I think it sounds like you’re being careful, and safe, and while I don’t understand why you want this so badly, it um...well...”
I laughed softly as she shrugged one shoulder, and I leaned forward. “Admit it, some of it sounds really hot.”
“Well, yeah.” She rolled her eyes and took a drink from her beer. “I mean, I have no complaints about Lance in bed, or anything, but we’ve been together since forever. Sometimes I wonder if we’re getting too boring.”
I snorted. “Lance would never bore you.”
“I don’t mean that. I just think it’d be nice to experiment with...I don’t know...other things.” Her eyes flashed. “I don’t want to be spanked or anything.”
“I could always see if you could come to Luminous with me sometime.”
“God, no.” She shook her head. “There’s no way, and can you imagine Lance in a place like that?”
I thought of Lance, with his ripped jeans, tool belt and ratty T-shirts and choked down my laugh. He had the look of a man’s man, a tough guy, and he wasn’t uptight, but he was conservative. I called him classically pretty, and he was. He was also the perfect complement to Anya in her well-fitted skinny jeans, tucked neatly into boots with a small heel and the pale blue cardigan set she was currently wearing.
I doubted she needed anything extra in her life.
“Anya, if you want to experiment, do it,” I encouraged her, lowering my voice. “Don’t be afraid to talk to Lance about it, but don’t forget that what you guys have is special, too. Not everyone needs to add implements to the bedroom to make their relationship better. Just because I’m finding something new I enjoy, doesn’t mean you will.”
“I know, but it’s hard not to think about it when you keep mentioning it.” She winked teasingly and I slid from the booth, grabbing our bottles.
“I’ll get the next round. Let you cool down for a minute.”
She stuck her tongue out at me before I turned and saddled up at the corner of the bar where I managed to find an empty spot. I didn’t have to wait long before the female bartender gestured my way.
“Two more?” she asked, as I slid my empty bottles toward her.
“Please.” She dumped them into the garbage and popped the tops off two new ones. Her movements were fluid and quick and even as she took care of me, her eyes roamed the bar, keeping an eye on the rest of her customers sitting down and standing around. Her grace and quickness told me she’d been at this awhile, but it wasn’t only her movements that caught my attention.
Her curly platinum hair was pulled back into a messy top knot, with frizzy tendrils hanging down over her ears and the back of her neck. As she turned, it was the gleam of the choker at her neck that made me pause.
It was a thick metal, stamped with a ring of fleur-de-lis. At the back there was a small lock. She wasn’t wearing a stylish choker.
She was collared.
“Six dollars,” she said, barely giving me a glance.
I fumbled with my clutch to remove cash, unable to take my eyes off her throat.
Other than Master Dylan and Jensen, I hadn’t yet truly met anyone involved in the kink lifestyle. And I hadn’t yet met any subs or slaves, for certain. She efficiently controlled the bar, took orders while counting up my change, grabbed a fresh beer when she slammed the till closed, popped the top as she slid the cash toward me.
“Thanks!” she shouted, and I was still frozen.
My lack of movement got her attention and she turned to me. “Need something else?”
“No.” I reached for my change, leaving two on the bar for her. “Um, actually,” I called as she turned away.
She looked at me, brows furrowed, and I realized I was rubbing my throat.
I dropped my hand like my own skin had burned me.
“Yes?” She arched a brow.
“Um...sorry. This isn’t the time or the place. But your choker is beautiful.” Her fingertips grazed the metal and her eyes went soft. When she ran her fingers over the metal, down her throat, almost caressing herself, a warm sensation trickled down my spine.
“What about it?” She leaned forward on the bar, a gleam in her eyes I couldn’t miss.
I matched her pose and glanced around to see if we’d be interrupted. “Is it a collar?”
Before I could tell myself to shut up, I continued. “I saw the lock at the back. And well...I’m new...God, this is embarrassing.”
She scanned the bar before coming back to me with a soft smile. “Am I right?” I asked.
Instead of answering my question, she held her hand out over the bar. “I’m Gabby. You are?”
“Haley,” I answered, sliding my hand against hers. She shook it once and let go of my hand.
“You’re right.” She smiled, touching her collar once more before she looked over her shoulder and down the bar. “Hey, Paul! I’m taking five, okay?”
I assumed Paul was the bartender at the other end, a big, burly man with tats running down both arms. “You got it, G.”
My eyes flickered to the metal “G” insignia on the wall behind the bar and back at the woman still smiling at me.
“This is your place?”
She smiled, showing a mouthful of white teeth. “Used to be my dad’s—George—before he passed a few years ago. I took it over. It’s only fortuitous my name also starts with a G.”
“But you’re a slave,” I said, my voice awed.
Gabby threw her head back and laughed. “Get the drinks to your friend and I’ll meet you there. She’s looking a little concerned.”
Oops. I turned on my feet and quickly moved back to the booth where I’d deserted Anya. “I’m so sorry,” I said as I slid into the booth and gave her one of the beers.
“What took you so long?”
“The woman...she’s the owner...but get this.” I leaned forward so I could whisper-shout in her ear. “She’s a slave. I saw her collar and got curious and I’m so sorry, Anya.” Remorse filled me. I was changing, and I was doing it quickly, and not only that but so much of our friendship had recently become about my new life.
Tonight was supposed to be our night out and I was making it all about me.
“I’m a horrible friend,” I said.
Anya rolled her eyes. “Shut up. What happened?”
I gestured toward Gabb
y who was now headed in our direction. “She’s wearing a choker, but it’s really a collar and signifies that she’s a slave.”
Anya’s mouth went slack. I had told her a lot about the BDSM lifestyle as I was researching so she knew the term.
For some reason, I had never thought I’d run into anyone “normal” out in public. I scolded myself. The people who hung out in sex clubs and dungeons had to do something for a life outside the sexy walls of Luminous.
“Hi, I’m Gabby,” Gabby said, as she reached our booth. As friendly as she’d been to me, she was to Anya, too, with a gracious smile and a hand held out.
“Anya, nice to meet you.”
“Do you mind if I join you two for a minute? Bar’s packed and two of our servers called in sick tonight, but I’d love to talk to you while I can.”
I flashed wide, questioning eyes to Anya. This had to be her call.
“Of course,” she replied.
I slid over and gave Gabby room to sit next to me.
“You seem surprised that I can be a slave and own a business,” she said, getting right to her point. “And you said you’re new. I assume to the lifestyle?”
My cheeks heated until I felt the blush spread to the tips of my ears. “Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry, it’s so new to me and I have so many questions.”
“It’s important to have someone to talk to.” She glanced at Anya and smiled. “And you seem like a great friend to be there for her, I assume.”
“I’m always here for Haley.”
“That’s good.” Her smile softened. “Like any relationship or friendship, you need people in your life who can listen. Other subs or slaves are good for that, but sometimes an ear of someone on the outside can be just as helpful. Have you met any Doms yet?”
I pressed the bottle to my lips while I debated how much to tell her. She was effectively a stranger. “Um, yes?”
It was more of a question and her eyes narrowed. “If you’re not sure about him—”
“It’s not that,” I assured her. “Like I said, it’s all new. And sometimes overwhelming.”
“I understand that,” Gabby said. “I’ll give you my card with my cell number on it. I’ve been in my current relationship for years, but just like dating, it can be hard to find a good one. If you ever need anything or have questions, you can always call me.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I said.
“You’ll learn the kink community is very much a large, sometimes seemingly dysfunctional family. But we’re here to help, and if you want, I can look into your Dom, see what my Master says. He knows pretty much everyone.”
I didn’t like the idea of investigating Jensen, or what that would say if it got back to him. Plus, so far he hadn’t made me doubt him. And I still trusted Dylan.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Great.” She slid from the booth and hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll go get my card but I should get back to work. Paul’s good,” she said and winked. “But I’m still better.”
Anya chuckled and I waved her off.
“You know...” Anya said as soon as she was gone. “I don’t mean to be rude, or judgmental...but she seemed so normal.”
I snorted and took a drink of my beer. “Funny how I had the same thought.”
“This makes me feel better for you,” my best friend said. “I mean, you can always talk to me, but she seems willing to help in ways I can’t, too.”
I examined Anya but found nothing but truth and her typical gentleness. There was no jealousy in her tone.
“Tell me about school,” I said, changing the subject. We’d talked about me enough for one night.
Anya rolled her eyes. “School’s out in six weeks and I have a handful of kindergarteners ready for summer. How do you think it’s going?”
I figured only Anya could handle that kind of commotion on a daily basis without tearing out her hair. It certainly wasn’t my strength. We fell into discussing her job and Lance’s new business, how he was getting more business quicker than he’d expected, when Gabby returned and slid me her business card.
“Thank you,” I said, sliding the card into my clutch. “I mean it.”
“Like I said,” she said, her smile dropping. She frowned, becoming distracted by a group of men behind her. “I’m here to help. Whatever you need.”
She walked away just as two of the men, dressed in stretched-tight shirts got in each other’s faces.
I couldn’t hear their words, but they were clearly angry.
“Uh-oh,” Anya said, saying what I was just thinking. “Bar brawl.”
“Yeah.”
Gabby didn’t seem deterred, but I still moved out of the booth to pull her away. Why, I had no idea, but a woman my size getting between two bulky men didn’t seem like a great idea.
I reached her right as the first man swung back to punch, his hands curled into a fists, but before I could say anything, Gabby grabbed his wrist, twisted his arm behind his back and jerked him against the front of her.
“No fighting in my bar!” she shouted, and then yelled for Paul. “Get these guys out of here!”
“Get your hands off me,” the guy she had restrained growled.
I was frozen on my feet. She was maybe five-seven and slim, but she held him with the strength of a tiger.
As the guy shifted, trying to throw her off, Paul pushed himself through the watching crowd and a group of people behind me was shoved forward.
I was bumped, and then cold, foamy beer splashed down the front of my shirt.
“Ugh.” I stepped back and tried to get out the growing crowd. I shook my hands and turned toward our booth, throwing my hands up at my sides. “I just got a whole beer thrown on me.”
Anya’s nose wrinkled. “And your shirt isn’t exactly opaque.”
I looked down and groaned. Through my light gray shirt, you could now see the clear outline of my lacy black bra. I crossed my arms.
“Yuck. Maybe we should go,” I said.
Paul took the guy out of Gabby’s grasp and shoved him toward the front door.
“What’s the rush?” a man said from behind me. Anya’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened. I had spent the week having wicked things whispered in my ear from that voice. “When the fun seems to be just getting started?”
Chapter Eleven
Jensen
“Imagine,” I continued, even while Haley’s friend’s expression morphed into shock. “Of all the bars and all the towns, and you walk into mine.”
That pulled Haley out of her trance. “It’s not your bar,” she said and turned to me. “It’s Gabby’s.”
When Dylan and I first walked into G’s Bar to see Gabby and hang out for a few drinks, the last person I’d expected to see was Haley. Not that I was disappointed. But hearing she knew Gabby was shocking.
“You know Gabby?”
Her expression went dazed. “You know Gabby?”
Before I could answer, Gabby waltzed up like she’d been dancing with the linebacker Dylan and I had watched her subdue. He knew she could handle herself so he rarely stepped in to help.
“You know Jensen?” she asked, her eyes on Haley. And then her eyes went as wide as Haley’s still-silent friend’s. If I had a camera, I’d capture everyone’s stunned expression even as Gabby’s changed to knowing. “Is he your Dom?”
Haley sputtered and I pressed my fingertips against her back.
“Yes. I am.”
Gabby’s crystalline blue eyes softened and she turned to me with only a nod. “Wonderful! It’s good to see you, Jensen.”
I reached down and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, holding her tight for a just a moment. “You too, Gabby. It’s been a while.”
She pulled back. �
��Too long. What brings you by?”
“Dylan wanted to make sure you weren’t getting into trouble.”
“Ah.” With the instinct of a slave, her eyes immediately dipped and her head bobbed. “I’ve been good, I promise. We’re also busy, so I need to get behind the bar.”
“Shame,” Dylan rumbled, joining our group. “Haley, it’s nice to see you. G’s Bar is obviously one of my favorite places.”
Beneath my light touch, Haley stiffened. “My friend Anya and I come here every few months or so.” As if just remembering her friend was here, she gestured toward an attractive, but conservatively dressed friend, looking scared out of her mind. “Um...Anya, this is...”
I frowned, watching her struggle on how to introduce us, and then I understood as Anya’s cheeks turned just short of eggplant.
“I’m Jensen,” I said, holding out a hand. “And this is Dylan. I assume you’ve heard about us.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Anya said, her voice a slight mumble. “And yes, Haley’s told me about you.”
“Dylan,” he said, introducing himself with a brief flicker of his eyes to Haley, “just Dylan.”
Her tenseness beneath my hand relaxed.
“Mind if we join you ladies?” Dylan asked, nodding toward the bar where Gabby had disappeared to. “We stopped by for a drink or two, and to see my woman, but if you want to be alone that’s okay.”
“You’re Gabby’s Master,” Haley blurted and then snapped her lips together.
Like that would embarrass Dylan.
He rolled his shoulders back, putting him at his full height, and grinned. Poor Anya, she looked like she was going to faint. His stature and presence alone could be intimidating and Anya was much shorter than Haley. She craned her neck, tilting her chin up to take in his imposing frame.
“Of course I am. Going on five years now but we’ve been together for seven.”
He rarely smiled unless Gabby was the focus of conversation. Hell I’d known the guy a decade and unless the Red Wings were in the playoffs or he was talking about Gabby, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Dylan smile.