Temporary Master

by Dakota Trace

  As her eyes began to tear, he panicked. Had he read her wrong? Had she formed more of an attachment to him than was necessary between a training Dom and his sub? “Sheila, I was honest with you about…”

  She gave him a watery smile. “I’m just so happy, Ethan.” She jumped up and gave him an impulsive kiss, before giving him a quick hug. “You did exactly what you said you would. You found me a Dom who wouldn’t care about my disfigurement.”

  He chuckled as she squeezed him tight. “He’d have to be blind to not recognize the giving woman underneath.” He traced the slightly raised flesh that ran from the nape of her neck to between her shoulder blades. It was the result of her former master attempting to use fire play with no experience. He’d burned her badly before a Monitor had stopped the scene. “You’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Sheila. You were the one who wanted to move past what your previous Master did. It was you who walked the path. I was merely your guide.”

  Chuckling, she pulled away. “You and your mystic Asian ideologies.” She lifted his hand to her lips. “Why can’t you simply say ‘you’re welcome’?”

  A smile tugged at his lips, but he managed to suppress it. “Lift your hair, little sub.”

  She obeyed without question. Brushing his fingers over the raised flesh, he still wanted to commit murder when he thought of her former Master. It was a good thing the fool was serving ten years in Folsom Prison on both money laundering and tax evasion charges. Evidently Uncle Sam didn’t look too favorably about hiding your wealth. It’s too bad we couldn’t have pressed assault charges to go along with it.

  Unbuckling the dark black leather collar, with its simple silver tag sporting the Japanese characters of his name, he slipped it free of her neck. Laying it on the counter, he brushed his hand through her hair one final time as Balin reentered the room, with his bag and outer jacket on. Sheila’s new Master was ready to leave for the night. Ethan forced a smile. “It’s time to go, little one. Your new Master is waiting.”

  She nodded, standing slowly. “Thank you, Master Ethan.”

  She was half way across the room, when Ethan finally forced himself to speak past the sudden tightness of his throat. Soon he’d be alone once more. “You’re welcome, Sheila.”

  * * * *

  Moving away from the security monitor as his friend’s former submissive left the room with Balin Iranski, Davis Clayton scowled. He wanted nothing more than to wring his best friend’s neck. Ethan’s vicious cycle of playing the temporary Dom had to stop. I know Tamiko is dead but Ethan is still alive. He needs to get over it and find a submissive to keep.

  He was drawn from his thoughts when his partner entered the security office several minutes later. Ethan picked up the clipboard from the hook next to the door, skimming its contents. Rocking in his executive chair, Davis glared at him. “When’s this gonna stop, Ethan?”

  Looking up from his reading, Ethan seemed unfazed. “When we can afford to hire a fulltime staff, or at least one to run security?”

  Even with Ethan contributing the collateral for New Beginnings and Davis’s small trust fund, the club had the usual start-up costs. The club was fast approaching its second year anniversary, but was barely running in the black.

  “I’m not talking about our financial issues – let alone our staffing issues.” Davis raked his hand through his dark hair.

  It was the only thing he had in common with Ethan. While he was over six and half feet of muscle, his buddy barely topped five ten and was whipcord lean. In fact, if he hadn’t been friends with Ethan since they met as teens, he’d have tried to kick the smaller man’s ass for what he was doing to himself. But he was Ethan’s friend, and knew all too well what the half Asian man could do with his fists and feet. Twenty plus years of training in Jujitsu gave Ethan the skills to not only hurt him but kill him if he so chose.

  Sighing, Ethan finally returned the clipboard to its hook. “Look, I really don’t want to get into this again.”

  Anger surged through Davis. Fucking stubborn fool! “Fine. You want to be miserable for the rest of your life–”

  Ethan stared at him coolly, nothing showing on his face. “I’m not miserable. In fact, I’m very happy with my life.”

  “Bullshit.” Davis crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re just going through the motions. Tamiko is dead. You need to quit letting her rule what you do from the grave. She may have been a deceitful bitch, but surely she’d want you happy. She might have had issues with your marriage, but she always said you were a wonderful Dom. She’d be irked to see how you’re acting…”

  “Enough!”

  Ethan’s near shout was so out of place, Davis’s tirade died in his throat.

  His chest heaving and his green eyes icy, Ethan seemed on the edge, but then it was as if a switch had been flipped. His eyes cleared, he took a deep breath, and when he finally spoke again, it was in his normal soft, well-modulated voice. It wasn’t the first time he’d witnessed it, but his partner’s ability to turn his emotions off at will, still managed to freak Davis out.

  “I understand your concern but there’s really no need, Davis-san. Obviously you just saw me release Sheila to Balin, but believe me when I say I understand my wife is dead, and the fact has no bearing on how I act as a dominant. While you may not believe it, I do know she isn’t coming back. I’m the man – the dominant I choose to be. And what I do in my private life is just that…private.”

  Davis gritted his teeth. He didn’t know which was worse: Ethan pissed or Ethan hiding behind his mask. And sure as shit, that’s what he’s doing. Drawing in a deep breath, Davis forced his shoulders to relax. “Fine. We won’t talk about your private life. But tell me, all knowing one, what the hell we’re supposed to do now for the upcoming Kinkfest? The one you promised to do a demonstration in kinbaku? You’re going to have a helluva time demonstrating without a sub, and I’ll be damned if I let you use me again. I was so stiff and sore the last time, I was barely able to walk when we finished.”

  Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. “Fuck, I forgot about that. I was so wrapped up in work and Sheila’s training…perhaps if I talk to Balin, he might do it…he has some experience with rope bondage and would probably be willing to demo for the club if we give him a discount on his membership dues.”

  Davis shook his head and stood to join him. “Even if we could afford it, you can’t do that to Sheila, Ethan. You know as well as I do she needs to settle into her new relationship with Balin before you can even think of asking. Six weeks isn’t long enough for a new sub – especially one like Sheila, to acclimate to Balin. Christ, you had her as your sub for nearly a year, before deeming her ready. Besides even if she could, we don’t know how she’d react to having another bind her, let alone how comfortable Balin would be.” He clapped a hand over Ethan’s shoulder. “In the end it’d be like any other rope demonstration. Balin may be good but he’s not you. He didn’t live in Japan for almost thirty years, nor did he receive the training you did. He’s not a nawashi–you are.”

  “Fuck.” Ethan sank into Davis’s vacated chair, suddenly looking defeated. “What do we do?”

  “I don’t know, Ethan. We can’t afford to pay a professional submissive, nor do we have any members currently who are into your particular type of rope bondage. So unless you pull a sub out of your ass, we’re screwed.”

  Rubbing his hands over his face, Ethan groaned. “I’ll call Ryouko.”

  Panic pumped through Davis’s veins at the mention of Tamiko’s younger sister. “No! Not even for our club are you going to put yourself at the mercy of that viper. You know what she’ll demand in exchange.”

  Ethan nodded. “I suppose I could do worse for a wife. At least with her, I’ll know she’ll be faithful.”

  Unlike Tamiko.

  It was left unsaid but Davis knew it was echoing through his friend’s mind. “No. I can’t let you do this. Let me put some feelers out. Maybe I can…”

  “Find a woman wh
o’ll be willing to let me tie her up at a BDSM convention, and won’t mind the long hours we’ll have to put into before it happens?” He shook his head. “You’re asking for a Christmas miracle. I need at least a month to practice with a new sub before I do this and the convention is only six weeks away.”

  He slowly stood as if an old man. “We can’t afford to cancel the demonstration. We need the publicity to help bring up our membership numbers. I’ll stop by Ryouko’s tomorrow.”

  Davis grabbed his friend’s arm as he walked past. “Give me a week! If I can find you a sub–”

  “An experienced one. I won’t have time to sooth a newbie’s feelings or ease her into it, Davis. Ryouko may be a bitch, but she’s an experienced submissive who’s been suspended before.”

  Gritting his teeth, Davis took the opening. “If I can find you an experienced submissive, you’ll forget this idea of shackling yourself to Ryouko?”

  Ethan stared bleakly at him, his eyes flat, before finally giving an abrupt nod. “I have an early appointment in the morning.”

  Without saying more than that, Ethan shrugged off Davis’s hand and walked out of the security room. Sinking into the chair, Davis didn’t know whether to weep with joy or sob in despair. While he may have gotten a small reprieve, he had no doubt Ethan would do as he said. He would marry the distasteful woman to save their club.

  And that’s too high of a price to pay. I’d rather see the club close than have my friend trapped in a marriage from hell like his first one.

  Chapter Two

  Sabella was just putting away the final bag of groceries when the phone rang. Glancing at the time, she wondered who was calling after ten on a Thursday night. Folding the sack, she lifted the receiver off its base to wedge it between her shoulder and ear before walking back across the kitchen, where a stack of canned goods awaited her on the counter.

  “Hello?” Picking up two cans of peas and a box of rotini, she was shoving them into the cupboard when her ear got blasted by her best friend.

  “Girl, what are you doing Friday night? You have to come to the club with me!”

  She winced at Lauren’s demand over the line as well as the loud sound of music in the background. It sounded like her friend was already at the club. But after a long day at the youth center, a meeting with her agent, and a round of late night grocery shopping, all she wanted to do was kick off her shoes, read the next chapter in the steamy book awaiting for her on her Kindle and go to bed. “I’m sorry. But I don’t think so, Lauren. Not only has it been a long day, but this entire week has been hectic with Dad’s appointments and everything. I’m planning on coming home early tomorrow after taking Dad to his support group and hibernating. Maybe next time?”

  She didn’t have to hear the loud sigh to know that Lauren was fed up with her ongoing evasions. “That’s what you keep promising me, but next time never comes. This has to stop, Bella-mía. You’ve been back for over three months. You can’t continue to ignore your needs. It’s not healthy.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but what could she say. It was true. She’d been so wrapped up in re-establishing herself in Cali as both an artist and as a daughter, she’d woefully neglected her sexual needs. But I’m not a mindless animal controlled by my body’s urges. “Not everything has to do with…with…sex.” Christ I can’t even say the word without stammering.

  “Of course not, but most of the good things do.” A pleading note filled her ear. “Come on. It’s subbie night at New Beginnings.”

  Sabella had another refusal on the tip of her tongue when what her friend said finally registered. “What on Earth is a ‘subbie night’?”

  Lauren’s voice seemed to perk up. “It’s a night dedicated to submissives. It’s something unique to New Beginnings. The owners have set up a safe environment for uncollared subs to come in, mingle with unattached Doms under the house Dom’s supervision...” Her tone dropped an octave as she cupped her hand over the mouthpiece, or that’s what Sabella assumed since the background noise became decidedly distant. “…and if we tease all the wanna-be Doms who pay through the nose for just a glimpse at a true submissive, all the better.”

  Sabella nearly dropped the can of peas she was putting away. “Lauren!” Aghast at the idea of teasing any man, let alone a Dom, was foreign to her. And even if it wasn’t, the chance of a Dom, even a wanna-be one, taking what he wanted despite what the submissive wanted, sent apprehension through her. “Submission isn’t a game! A sub could get hurt…”

  “Oh relax, Ms. Priss. It’s perfectly safe. As if Davis or Ethan would ever let anything non-consensual happen to any submissive under their watch.”

  “But what if they can’t watch everywhere? I’d be scared to even walk back to my car after such a night. Who says one of those Doms won’t follow you out…”

  “Oh my God, you’ve been in New York too long, girl. This is Napa Valley - not the big city.” There was now more than a thread of exasperation in Lauren’s voice. “Not only are there several experienced Doms monitoring the floor, there’s also a bouncer who escorts all submissives to their cars if requested. You worry too much. New Beginnings is a place to start over. In fact, I believe that was the owners’ intention when they opened up two years ago. A place to start anew.”

  She waivered. Lord only knew she needed a fresh slate, and it seemed as if the owners had thought of everything. But even if she longed to let down her hair for a night, she wasn’t sure she should. She knew herself. The first Dom who showed her the least amount of attention, and she’d be begging them to collar her. All in the hope of finding that elusive release which had plagued her in every relationship she’d ever had, whether it had been BDSM or vanilla. And after the catastrophe with Louis, she wasn’t sure she could trust herself. Perhaps it would be better if she waited.

  “Sounds tempting, but I don’t think I’m ready to break my celibacy yet, Lauren.”

  “Aw come on. You can’t turn off the need to submit that easily. When’s the last time you even spoke or saw someone in the scene? And you can’t count Kaleb. He’s your boss and I know he won’t touch you while you’re still his employee.”

  “Ew….I’m so not going there, girl. That’s wrong on so many levels.” It was true Kaleb Terzis was eye candy and if the situation had been different, Sabella might have been tempted, but he reminded her too much of a protective old brother. There simply wasn’t any attraction between them. At least not on her part.

  “You can’t, can you?” Lauren taunted.

  Sabella wanted to reach through the phone and smack her friend. Good grief the woman was like a pit bull when she wanted something.

  “So, I’ve been out the loop for awhile. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “Bella!” Her father called out from the living room, interrupting whatever argument Lauren probably had prepared, but she took it as an opportunity to end the conversation.

  “Look, Dad’s yelling for me. We’ll get together this weekend, okay?”

  “Fine, but I get to pick the place.”

  Sabella quickly agreed, but should’ve taken Lauren’s warning to heart.

  * * * *

  The rest of the week passed in a blur and before Sabella knew it, it was Sunday. After fighting with her father about the new diet his dietitian wanted him to start, and doing her lesson plan for the youth center for the following week, Sabella was looking forward to getting out of the house. She was just getting ready to walk out the door, when Andrew stomped into the kitchen. The scowl on her father’s face had her sighing. She knew the look well. It seemed like he was always in a grumpy mood because she wouldn’t let him have his Twinkies and Pepsi. She was trying to switch him to the diet version of his favorite soda, but so far hadn’t had much luck.

  “Aw come on, Dad. Did you even try it?” She strove for patience.

  He tossed his barely touched meal into the garbage and then gave her a look that dared her to comment. “Tastes like crap. You eat it,” he muttered as h
e stomped out of the room, pausing to grab a tube of salted cashews.

  “Well at least you’re eating something that isn’t going to hurt you.” She wanted to scream but refrained. Hooking her purse over her shoulder, she let herself out of the apartment. “I’ll be back later, Dad.”

  A muffled reply was all she got as she stepped into the hallway. Pulling the door shut, she headed down to her car. Within moments she was headed towards downtown Napa. Her destination was the Bistro Sabor, a favored Latin restaurant of hers and Lauren’s. Not only was the food great but it was affordable even for a starving artist’s budget. As she parked, she looked for Lauren’s Mustang. It was her friend’s pride and joy since she’d rebuilt it from the ground up. Finally spotting the jet black car, she pulled into a parking spot a few cars down from it.

  After locking her own car, she strode into the bistro. Her stomach rumbled as the delicious scents of the sofrito they used on their Latin delicacies reached her nose. Scanning the thinning lunch crowd, she finally spotted Lauren. With her blonde hair twisted up into an elegant but slightly messy French twist, she looked nothing like the mechanic she was. But as Lauren rose to wave at her, that’s when she realized she wasn’t alone. There was a behemoth of a man sitting next to her friend, sprawled comfortably in the booth, his long frame filling out the seat with no room to spare. As Sabella got closer, she could see the darkened shadow of his beard. He was quite the specimen of manhood. Anger rushed through her. It would be just like her friend to try and set her up. And if I weren’t so pissed for her trying something like this, I might be attracted to him.

  “Lauren….you didn’t tell me we were going to have a guest.” Keeping her voice even was a miracle, especially when the blonde had a cat who ate the canary expression on her face. Sabella wanted to do mean and evil things to her girlfriend.

  “Pish posh, if I’d told you, you’d have never come.” Lauren pulled her into a hug. “Just give him a chance, Bella-mía. I didn’t bring you here to set you up with him.” She drew back, raising her hand. “Scout’s honor.”