Show Me, Baby: A Masters of the Shadowlands Novella (1001 Dark Nights)

by Sinclair Cherise

  She retreated a step and bumped into a body that was totally bone and muscle. Honestly, hadn’t men ever heard of padding?

  Lean fingers gripped her shoulders, steadying her. “Just the person I was looking for,” Master Jake said.

  Oh, this is just craptastic. Green eyes. Carved features. And a trimmed five-o’clock shadow on his strong jaw. She realized she was breathless. “Can I help you with something, Sir?”

  “Mmmhmm. I’ve got some time, so we’re going to work together tonight”—he added the final word as if to let her know she was screwed—”trainee.”

  “But I thought the trainees weren’t… No. We’re free to make our own choices tonight.”

  To her dismay, Master Z turned to contemplate her for a long, long moment. “You haven’t the appearance of a satisfied submissive. Go with Master Jacob.”

  Oh hellfire and hissyfit hyena shoes. “Of course, Sir,” she said obediently and looked at Master Jake. “Sir, do you have an assignment for me?”

  “Let’s talk a bit.” He curled his hand around her arm, firmly enough that she felt controlled, carefully enough that she knew he wouldn’t hurt her by accident. On purpose, though…

  Despite her avoidance of him, she’d observed him play, something he did frequently and well and with a variety of submissives. His BDSM skills appeared exhaustive. He well deserved the “Master” title he’d been voted into last summer.

  And, from the way just his touch had melted her insides into liquid goo, she’d still underestimated him. Unlike the in-your-face authority of other Doms, Master Jake’s power was a lazy riptide, drawing a submissive under his command before she even realized she’d surrendered.

  He steered her to a secluded area and pointed to a chair. As she settled onto the leather cushion, he drew the other chair around so they sat face–to–face.

  When his long legs bumped into hers, she pulled her feet up onto the chair.

  A corner of his mouth tipped up and then he leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs, shifting right into her personal space.

  “What did you want to discuss, Master Jake?” Considering her lack of attire, her manager’s voice proved ineffective. Actually, she rather doubted the “voice” would daunt Jake no matter what she wore.

  “Couple of things. I’m curious—your papers show only ‘Rainie.’ Is it your given name?”

  “’Fraid so.” He’d checked out her trainee forms. Why? “My mother liked names to convey something. Her name was Carol, but she called herself Sunny.”

  “And?” He was too close, his gaze too intent.

  She turned her head. At a nearby scene, someone’s single-tail flashed under the UV lights. The thrum of the bass from the dance floor speakers struck her skin almost like impact play. “Sunny didn’t want a baby and cried all the way through her pregnancy. So she christened me Rainie for rainy.”

  His snort held disgust.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much how I felt.” Her mother had often ranted about her unwanted pregnancy, the ghastly labor, and the amount of work raising a child required.

  When younger, Rainie had fled in tears from the cruel words. She was a tougher bitch now. Oh yeah.

  “Here, I thought Rainie might be an abbreviation for Lorraine or something,” Jake mused.

  “Nope. It must frustrate Master Z not to have a ‘real’ name to call me.” Master Z disliked nicknames. Sam was Samuel. Dan was Daniel. Jake, Jacob.

  Amusement lit Jake’s eyes. “I bet.”

  He kneaded her calf in an absent-minded act she didn’t believe for a second. That friendly, casual attitude of his disguised a very controlled Dom.

  The sensation of being touched without permission—and dammit, wanting to be touched—hit a sonorous note deep inside her. Behave, body, or no chocolate for a week.

  “Rainie’s a pretty name.” His baritone held a hint of smokiness at the edges. “However, I’ve never met anyone less like rainfall.”

  A compliment? Had he just given her a compliment? Her gaze swung back.

  His eyes were straightforward…and his long, tapered fingers traced a pattern on her leg.

  She swallowed. “You didn’t drag me here to talk about my name.”

  “Now, Rainie, I didn’t force you here.” His lips curved up slightly. “But I can arrange to drag you if it’s something you’d like.”

  Being dragged.

  By Jake. The surge of sheer desire made her stiffen, even as she wanted to melt. But no. No, no, no. No Jake. She shook her head. “I don’t think I’d like that.”

  He cocked a brow and made a sound, showing how little he believed her answer.

  She tried to steady her breathing. Jake Sheffield had been a gorgeous twenty-one-year-old college student. As a confident, virile Dominant, he was lethal. She’d been right to avoid him.

  “I noticed something odd in your files,” he said. “Tell me, when did you last have a serious scene?”

  “I—” Even with her gaze on the leather cuffs circling her wrists, she sensed his gaze never wavered. “A few months, maybe.”

  “I see. Sweetling, what is it you want from being a trainee?”

  The endearment made her heart flutter until she remembered whom she was talking to. Jake.

  Why did some memories turn to shadows…and others corrode into rawness? Even after a decade, she could hear her classmates. “Did you see how she stared at Jennifer’s brother?” “The fatty wants Jake Sheffield.” “God, I think I’m going to throw up.”

  She shook her head, hoping to fling the thoughts away.

  Concentrate on the present, girl. He’d asked a question. “What is it you want?” She didn’t have a ready answer. Her goals had changed. As irritation bubbled up, she glared at him and tried to tug her leg from his grip. “Excuse me, but when did this turn into a job interview?”

  His deeply masculine voice held a note of steel. “When I decided it did.”

  He pulled her legs off the chair, placing them on the outside of his knees. His downward glance reminded her she wore nothing under the short skirt. At least her large thighs hid her pussy. Mostly.

  His hands opened, palms up. “Give me your breasts.”

  “What?”

  “Now.”

  From the raging heat in her face, she knew her cheeks were redder than the lotus flowers in her tattoos. With a hand under each heavy breast, she hesitated. He didn’t move. Well, at least he hadn’t told her to remove her top. She inched forward on the chair. Her legs slid alongside his until her inner thighs aligned with his knees, and his jeans scraped against her tender skin.

  Cool air touched the flesh of her labia. Now, she was completely exposed before him. And somehow, with the physical nakedness, the barricades protecting her emotions were splintering.

  Leaning forward slightly, she set her breasts onto his cupped palms. Giving him her body. Giving him her soul.

  “Very good.” His fingers gripped her breasts over the fabric.

  He angled his knees outward, spreading her legs farther apart. Opening her. Her instinctive jerk back was countered by his hold on her top half. She wouldn’t be permitted to retreat.

  At the amused look in his forest green eyes, she growled under her breath. The flames streaming up and down her spine, made her want to…to kneel. To beg. To submit.

  “You like being controlled. Do you know how much your surrender pleases a Dom?” he asked softly, his gaze on her face, then her breasts. “Lace your fingers together behind your neck.”

  How did he know the common hands-behind-the-back position was one she couldn’t easily achieve? Her hair spilled over her wrists as she complied. Her breasts lifted with the movement.

  “Very nice.” His resonant voice was as firm as the hands holding her breasts. “I enjoy seeing you in this position, sweetling. Giving me your breasts. Offering your cunt.”

  And, oh God, she was. She wanted him to take her, to control her, to have her in any way he chose. As if she knelt on the beach in
a heavy surf, the ground beneath her was being swept away, leaving her unbalanced. And she was being pushed right to him. She swallowed, her voice coming out husky. “I didn’t offer. Sir.”

  On top of the fabric, his thumbs circled her jutting nipples, making them bunch so tightly they ached. “When a woman’s nipples are this hard, Rainie, I’d say you’re an offering ready to be taken.”

  The way her lower half turned into a heated pool, her body agreed. She stared at the silk of his shirt, knowing she was wet. Please, please, please, don’t let him notice how he turns me on.

  “As a trainee, you’re supposed to learn about new kinks. Meet and work with different Doms, searching for the one with whom you fit. Why aren’t you doing that?” While he talked, he used one hand on her left breast as a restraint, and the other slid under her halter bra to roll her right nipple. The skin-to-skin sensation grew more intense with each second. Her toes curled.

  What had he asked?

  “I—” She shouldn’t have looked up. Tanned skin. Green eyes. Sun streaked hair the beautiful brown of chocolate, falling over his forehead, luring her to touch. She closed her eyes.

  A light pinch on her breast made her gasp.

  “Eyes on me, trainee.”

  Between his unyielding grip and his resolute focus on her, she couldn’t seem to concentrate. “I’ve tried out new things. It’s just… I-I don’t know.” I’ve given up. There’s no one out there for me.

  “I think you’re not giving me the complete story, sweetling.” His focus had locked on her in a way that had her very bones trembling. “It’s time your reasons were examined.”

  His grip gentled. “Right now, make me a mental list of which Doms you’ve decided against and the ones you’d like to play with.”

  She stared, mouth open, unable to find a reply.

  He actually grinned. “You sit here and think until I return.”

  Chapter Three

  As Jake moved away from Rainie, he saw her pretty face scrunch into a scowl.

  What a cutie. And more. She’d responded like a dream to his hands, his will. Even as he’d watched her mind and emotions war, her body had been sweetly compliant. God, she was beautiful.

  But something was going on with her, and it was more than her difficulties in honest refusals.

  Whenever a trainee was unsettled by a scene—whether performed by a Master or another Dom—her file got a note, so a follow-up could be performed. Jake had found no notes for months.

  On her own, she requested scenes with lightweight Dominants, which wasn’t necessarily wrong. However, he doubted she’d be content with a Dom who didn’t push her.

  Yes, a Master needed to have a long talk with her. Jake planned that Master would be him.

  He picked up the short length of chain from behind the bar and returned.

  Curled in the chair, Rainie felt her anxiety increase as Jake approached. The seriousness of his expression made her rub her sweaty palms against her skirt.

  “Thinking done?” he asked. He stood over her, arms crossed over his chest, legs braced apart. His black jeans clung to his muscular thighs and cupped his bat and balls.

  Bad Rainie. Pay attention.

  With some effort, she lifted her gaze back to his face. “Started, but not concluded.”

  “Not a problem. This week, write everything out. Handwritten, not typed. In addition to the Dom lists, make another of your strengths and weaknesses as both a submissive and a person. Next weekend, we’ll read over your homework together.”

  The thought was completely unnerving. Put her thoughts and emotions down on paper for him to read? To discuss? She’d rather have a root canal.

  He held his hand out. “Let’s walk, and you can tell me which Doms you know. Which ones you’ve rejected.”

  His nonchalant strength when he pulled her to her feet sent a dizzying desire through her. “I haven’t played with everyone, but I’ve met most. I haven’t—haven’t rejected anyone.”

  Although a muscle flexed in his jaw, he merely nodded. When he put his arm around her and ran the knuckles of his other hand over the tops of her breasts, the casual intimacy of the touch blanked her mind.

  “Since you haven’t said no to anyone, should I assume any Dom here would make you a good permanent Dom?” he asked.

  “Not permanent. I mean—”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  She got the uncomfortable impression he saw right through her.

  After pulling a short length of chain from his pocket, he secured her arms behind her back. The chain between her wrist cuffs was only about twelve inches, but long enough to prevent her shoulders from feeling dislocated.

  On the way across the room, he picked up two tubes of body paint and a rag from a table.

  She glanced at the tubes with a twinge of anxiety. Why did he need paint?

  He guided her to a sitting area containing four Doms. “Gents, the trainee here needs to be decorated. Anyone up for the task?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why not?”

  “You bet.”

  All three single Doms indicated interest.

  Jake turned Rainie toward the first, and she tensed. She’d hated her single experience with Donald. Some tops were deliberately sexually rough—which was hot. Earlier, when Jake had hurt her nipples, he’d done so with awareness of exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t so self-absorbed to have missed her response.

  Although Donald never overstepped the club boundaries, he was rough, because he was careless and selfish.

  Rainie forced herself not to step back, and then realized Master Jake was watching her face. He arched a brow and directed her to stand in front of the other two. Although she hadn’t played with them, neither had a bad reputation with the submissives.

  “Brand, Casey,” Jake said, ignoring Donald’s annoyed grunt. “Show us your artistic talents.”

  Brand had silver at the temples and in his mustache, but his latex body shirt showed rippling muscles. His sweeping gaze took her in, and he smiled. “Who could resist painting those tits?” He glanced at Casey. “I’ll take the outsides of her breasts and leave the nipples for you.”

  After tossing them the paint tubes and terrycloth rag, Master Jake wove his fingers into her hair and immobilized her. Her arms were already restrained behind her back. His other hand gripped her upper arm, ensuring she’d remain in place.

  She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “You don’t have to hold me,” she muttered.

  “But I like to,” he murmured.

  His woodsy masculine scent wrapped around her—which was just wrong. Anything that smelled that temping should be licensed. Regulated. Dispensed in very small amounts.

  A touch on her chest startled her. She forced herself to hold still.

  In front of her, Brand ran his finger over her halter top to circle her breast. Her breasts were sensitive. Responsive. And being touched there together with Jake’s merciless control slid her body straight into a flustered arousal.

  “Gorgeous breasts,” Casey commented as he watched his friend paint. He glanced at Jake. “She’s fair-skinned. Bet her nipples are a pretty pink.”

  “Be fun to find out, wouldn’t it?” Still holding her hair, Master Jake undid the halter ties at her back and neck and pulled the top off. Her nipples contracted at the cool wash of air…and the heat of the men’s assessing stares.

  Jake’s warm breath brushed her ear as he whispered, “You’ve got gorgeous breasts, trainee.”

  His hands. She wanted his hands on her so badly her knees wobbled.

  “Magnificent,” Brand said. “Guess I need to start over.” After squeezing out some red paint, he drew filigree patterns on her bare right breast. The paint was cool over her heated skin.

  He handed the second tube to Casey.

  The younger Dom circled her left nipple with a bright yellow streak, then used one finger to massage in the paint.

  God, having Jake standing so close, restraining her, watchin
g her…somehow turned everything the others did into a type of foreplay. By the time the two men finished, her breasts were swollen and throbbing and sending urgent messages to her pussy.

  Trying not to rub her thighs together, she shifted her weight.

  Brand chuckled. “Your trainee is aroused, Jake. We’d be happy to co-top her in a private scene upstairs.”

  Dismay ran through Rainie like a whip of icy rain. I don’t do threesomes.

  Jake’s steady gaze provided the only warmth in the suddenly cold, shadowy room. “Rainie, what do you say?”

  Hadn’t Jake read her papers? “I-I…”

  Brand and Casey watched her with open anticipation, obviously expecting her consent.

  She faltered out, “I—I have other things to—”

  “Yes, you do have a problem, don’t you?” Jake didn’t release her hair as he stepped completely behind her. His hand smacked her bottom far, far harder than a fun swat.

  Pain burst like fire across her buttocks. She bit back a yelp.

  A second and third stinging spank followed. Ow! God, what had she done? Tears hazed her vision. She exhaled, trying to chase away the pain. “Why? Why, Sir?”

  Jake straightened and turned her to face him. His palm cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his grim gaze. “Sam said you’d already received a lesson on this.”

  “Master Sam?”

  “Rainie, when you don’t want to play with a Dom—or date a Dom—what is the proper answer?”

  Her thoughts whirled in her head, but all she could think of was how her bottom hurt. A tear escaped.

  Jake’s eyes softened, although his jaw remained stern as he positioned her to face the two Doms. “What do you say to them, Rainie?”

  Master Sam had told her to say no.

  She cleared the thickness from her throat. “I-I—” When Jake’s hand squeezed her shoulder in warning, the memory of the pain he could wield impelled her words. “I’m really sorry, Sirs, but I—No. No, thank you. I’m sorry.”

  “So are we,” Brand said. “But you gave us a courteous refusal. Well done, pet.”

  “Gentlemen,” Jake said politely and steered her away.