Training Sasha (Club Zodiac Book 1)

by Becca Jameson

  Own her? That thought scared the fuck out of him. He didn’t own anyone. He played. He dominated. He sent his submissives home. He didn’t keep them. He couldn’t. His twisted needs wouldn’t jibe with anyone else’s. Especially not Sasha’s.

  The bottom line was he was selfish. He could not have her for himself, and he couldn’t bear the idea of watching her submit to another Dom, so he needed her to get this idea out of her head and move on to live a nice vanilla life.

  Admittedly, his thoughts confused him. Visions of Sasha were unlike any other images he had for other women. They made no sense. They boggled his mind. He’d pushed them aside. Every time. For years.

  He squeezed his eyes closed and forced himself back into the moment, stroking his hand over the soft skin of her arm while holding her lower back to keep her from slipping out of his grasp.

  “Sasha?” he whispered as he smoothed his hand up to her shoulder and out from under the blanket to cup her face. “Look at me, sweetheart.” Sweetheart? Jesus.

  She shook her head, burrowing tighter against him. “I’m so stupid,” she muttered. “What was I thinking?”

  “You were thinking you wanted to see what all the hype was about. It’s natural. You were curious.” He nudged her chin again, but she didn’t budge. “You were also lucky. If I hadn’t been here, you would really be in a bind right now.”

  That wasn’t necessarily true. Master Colin could have handled things. He was a seasoned Master. He would have stopped the scene immediately and been sitting where Lincoln was right now.

  Lincoln gritted his teeth at the idea of Colin holding Sasha or even touching her skin. It had been hard enough to watch the man stroke her arms and shoulder. Lincoln had nearly slammed a fist into the wall when Colin had lifted her skirt, exposing the bottom swell of her cheeks.

  Sasha shuddered, her fingers finding his T-shirt and fisting the cotton again. “You knew I was going to be here.”

  He could barely hear her. “Yes.”

  She groaned, lifting her face finally. “Rowen’s going to kill me when he hears about this.”

  He shook his head, meeting her gaze. “No, he isn’t. He won’t even know.”

  She lifted her brows.

  “I mean, he knows you’re here, but he doesn’t have to find out the details.” He wanted to wipe that frightened look from her face. He wanted to kiss her forehead. Hell, he focused on her full pink lips and considered kissing her right on the mouth.

  Lord, Lincoln. Get a fucking grip.

  She calmed slightly, swallowing. Her face was streaked with tears.

  Lincoln lifted his hand and wiped them away with the pad of his thumb. He needed to administer aftercare like he would with any sub. “Talk to me about what happened in there, sweetheart.” Jesus, fuck, Lincoln, stop using that endearment.

  She suddenly stiffened, her eyes wide. “Oh God. Do you think I messed up anyone else’s scene? How loud was I?” She bit her lower lip, her face changing to one of concern and worry.

  Here she was recovering after probably the most embarrassing moment in her life, and she was worried about other people?

  Lincoln had to swallow his own emotions. Sasha Easton was an absolute angel. Her heart was golden. Her soul was so open and kind.

  “Sweetheart, stop worrying. No one noticed. You weren’t nearly as obvious as it must seem.” He stroked his fingers through the hair at her forehead.

  “What about Master Colin? Will he get in trouble or something?”

  Lincoln shook his head. “No. It’s fine. I’ll talk to him. Explain things.”

  She trembled. “Can’t you just take me home?”

  He smiled, cupping her face again and then easing his hand to the back of her neck to thread his fingers in her thick curls. They were as soft as he’d always imagined. Thick. Lush. He held still to keep from stroking his fingers through them. “Yes. After you talk to me. Surely you’ve done enough research to know a good Dom always guides his sub through the proper amount of aftercare.”

  “You’re not my Dom,” she pointed out.

  He had to give her credit for being quick and sharp after her crying jig. “True, but I’m the Dom currently holding you in my lap. I’m also the Dom who is going to talk you through your reaction to that scene.” Until you realize you aren’t cut out for the lifestyle and stop trying to play in clubs while giving me a heart attack.

  She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. “It’s no big deal. I shouldn’t have rushed things. I panicked.”

  “When Master Colin spanked you? Was the swat too hard?” He knew it wasn’t.

  “No.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t the spanking. That part felt sort of clinical. I think… I think it was the way he lifted my skirt.” She dipped her face from his view. “I didn’t like thinking other people in the room could see my bare butt.”

  He stared at the top of her head, shocked. And damn, kinda glad. At least he wasn’t the only one in the room who thought her naked body shouldn’t be ogled by other people. Why, big guy? You want to be the only one who gets to see her naked? No. Fuck no. He couldn’t go there. No one should be ogling Sasha naked. Especially not him.

  However, maybe she was seeing the light. He could work with this. Convince her to give up this obsession.

  She continued, “I guess I wasn’t ready for that. Hadn’t prepared myself mentally to be naked in public. I’ll be more careful next time. Take it slower. Maybe watch for a few more weeks before I try to do a scene myself.”

  “Next time?” He spoke louder than he’d intended.

  She lifted her face and furrowed her brow. “Yes. Please tell me you didn’t come here to talk me out of joining a club or hoping I would work it out of my system.” She pushed against his chest and leaned back, crossing her arms in a way that only drew more attention to her cleavage.

  Lincoln swallowed, forcing his gaze from her chest to her eyes. Normally he enjoyed more than a handful of a woman’s boobs. But somehow Sasha’s smaller breasts were making his mouth water. “Of course not,” he lied. “I came here to make sure you were safe. I told you that.”

  “My brother sent you.”

  “No. I volunteered.”

  She gave another dramatic eye roll, which pushed him over the edge.

  He grabbed her chin and waited until she looked him in the eye. “If you roll your eyes like that again, you’re going to get a much better taste of what it feels like to have your bottom spanked than what Master Colin demonstrated.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. His cock was also fully erect and insistent. Fuck.

  Neither of those reactions were common for him. He was always in control of his words and his dick. Always. Or he had been until tonight.

  Sasha’s face turned bright red and her eyes went wide. She didn’t say a word.

  Damn if he didn’t wish she would test him. Somehow he knew she would not freak out at the touch of his hand on her bottom the way she had with Colin. Shit.

  “You with me?” he demanded, again without properly filtering his words.

  “Yes, Sir.” She swallowed.

  He stopped breathing. Holy mother of God. Those two words, spoken to him from the lips of this sweet, innocent angel threatened to make him come in his jeans without contact.

  He never reacted like that to a woman. Never. The dominance he practiced was separate from his sexual needs. What was this little minx doing to him?

  He forced himself to pull it together, taking a second to give himself a pep talk. He didn’t have the luxury of glancing away or closing his eyes. Nope. Because this sweet newbie was still staring at him with her wide gaze and questioning looks. Her breaths were shallow. Her face red. Her chest rose and fell, her breasts lifting with every movement.

  He needed to get her to talk about the scene some more. Work it out. He understood the exposure, but that was the last straw. She had been stiff the entire time. “Now, tell me what you felt when Master Colin spanked you, before he lifted your skir
t, I mean. What did you mean by clinical?” He’d watched the way she grew more and more uncomfortable with each swat of Colin’s hand. It wasn’t like Colin had hit her hard. There already wouldn’t be any evidence of his palm print.

  Not that Lincoln intended to see for himself.

  She licked her lips and chewed on the bottom one a moment before answering him. “I didn’t feel connected to him, I guess. I was sort of out of my body. Like it was happening to someone else. It didn’t hurt or anything. I just didn’t want…”

  He waited, and when she didn’t continue, he prompted, “You didn’t want what?”

  “A stranger to touch me like that,” she finished, her gaze lowering again.

  His heart thumped. She was killing him. “Okay, that makes sense. A lot of people prefer to be with someone they know when they’re in intimate situations. Most people need to develop a rapport, build trust. That’s true in any relationship, not just within the lifestyle. You don’t know Master Colin.” What the ever-loving hell was he saying? He needed to be telling her she wasn’t cut out for BDSM, not helping her think it was possible with someone else.

  “Right.” She seemed to ponder his ill-advised words. Great.

  He needed to right his wrong. “Maybe you aren’t cut out for this lifestyle. Not everyone is. There’s no shame in preferring a vanilla relationship.”

  She scrunched up her brow and shot him a glare. “What are you talking about? It was one scene. I went into it too fast. I didn’t know that man. He touched my bare ass. It doesn’t mean I’m not submissive.”

  He sighed.

  “Shit.” She released her arms to shove on his chest again, scrambling to get off his lap.

  He was so shocked by her sudden movement that he couldn’t stop her. In moments, she was standing a foot away from him, the blanket falling to the floor. “You planned this.” Her voice was louder. “You absolutely planned this. My brother helped you.” She pointed a finger at him.

  Her skirt was askew and had risen high on her thighs. Her corset was also crooked and precariously in danger of exposing her nipples.

  He lifted both hands in defeat, palms out. To continue to deny the truth would only make things worse. “We thought—”

  She fumed, nearly screaming as she stomped her foot and fisted her hands at her sides. “You thought you knew what was best for me. That’s what you thought. Both of you. Don’t act like my sexuality is something I should be ashamed of.

  “I’m tired of everyone acting like I’m a child. It’s growing annoying. I’m a grown woman. I’m not that seventeen-year-old girl you met in the breakroom five years ago. I’m not the girl you humiliated in front of the entire staff with your highhandedness and domineering ways.” Tears ran down her face and her voice cracked.

  Fuck. He’d really fucked up. He’d fucked up then, and he was still fucking up now. No matter what he thought about her or how hard he’d tried to ignore his weird attraction to her all these years, she was right. He hadn’t meant to shame her, only protect her. And himself. He was an ass.

  He needed to admit it. “You’re right.”

  Her chest heaved, and she opened her mouth to continue her rant, but stopped short. “I’m right?”

  “Yes.” He was so totally going to kick himself later for even thinking his next words, let alone speaking them out loud, but he did it anyway. “You’re right. I was a dick that night I met you. And you deserve to explore this curiosity you have with submission. No one should deny you the opportunity, nor the right to own your feelings. If you want to give submission a try, you should do so.”

  She stared at him, leery, her eyes narrowing.

  His next words were going to get him killed by her brother, but again, he spoke them anyway, knowing this might be the only way. “Let me train you.”

  She paused, and then she stumbled backward.

  He leaped to his feet and reached out a hand to grab her before she fell on her ass. Steadying her upright with both hands on her elbows, he silently shot himself in the head.

  Yes. Rowen was going to have him executed.

  He eased one hand up her arm and cupped her face. He lifted her chin while he continued to dig his early grave. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  She looked completely shocked when she did as he told her.

  “If you want to explore your submission, let me be the one to train you. It’s the best scenario you’re going to get. I’m safe. You know me. You won’t have to worry about meeting someone who doesn’t treat you with respect or who makes you nervous.”

  “You make me nervous,” she interrupted.

  He chuckled. “Touché.” But this was veering way off track. Train her? Good fucking God. He needed to right this. He could do it. Make some demands. Do it now. “The first behavior I’m going to insist you correct is this constant insubordination and that mouthy way you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. If you accept my proposal, I want you to address me appropriately from now on. And, I expect you to think before you speak. No more lashing out at me verbally. I won’t tolerate such insolence. Are we clear?” He lifted a brow, hopeful.

  He wasn’t even sure what the fuck he was hoping for. His stupid self wanted her to take him up on his offer. His more rational self pushed the boundaries with that last little speech in the hopes she would renege and turn him down. Now would be the perfect moment for her to back out.

  Best case scenario, instead of digging her heels in, she would be horrified by his demands and tell him to go fuck himself.

  She breathed in and out, seemingly wrapping her head around his sudden proposal. Finally, she spoke. “Yes, Sir.”

  Well, fuck. His dick jumped. He couldn’t stop the next words from adding to the train wreck. “Good girl.”

  “My brother…”

  He lifted another brow. Two seconds and already she was speaking out of line.

  “Sorry, Sir. But…”

  “Your brother… Well, after he screams at me and throws everything not nailed down around my office, he’ll see reason. He’ll understand this is the best way to help you find yourself in the safest environment possible.” Would he? Because Lincoln didn’t even believe his own words.

  She nodded slowly.

  “I realize there are a lot of details to work out. I want you to know my only intention is to train you. I won’t take advantage of you. Do we have an agreement?”

  She hesitated again, making his heart stop, and then, “Yes, Sir. We have an agreement.”

  Chapter 6

  “You what?”

  As expected, Rowen didn’t take the news well at all. He glanced around Lincoln’s office, grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on—a magazine off the coffee table—and launched it across the room. It hit the window, but unfortunately it didn’t have the dramatic effect Rowen was going for.

  “I can’t believe you.” He stomped in a haphazard circle, hands on his head. “This is my sister we’re talking about, not some slave girl you picked up on the street corner.”

  Lincoln pulled his shoulders back and set his hands on his hips. “Watch it, Easton. I’m not some flunky asshole who wants to take advantage of your sister, and you know it. I’ve never had a Master/slave relationship, and I don’t intend to start now.”

  Lincoln pointed a finger at his friend and continued. “And if I ever hear you imply your sister is for sale again, I’ll beat the shit out of you myself.”

  Rowen spun around. “Please. Don’t you dare lecture me. I’m not the asshole who followed her to Breeze this evening to ensure she lost interest in the lifestyle, and instead came back three hours later with a hard-on the size of Texas and some elaborate plan to train her to be his own perfect submissive.” He leaned in closer. “She’s not even your type, Walsh.”

  Yeah, Rowen was pissed. And Lincoln couldn’t blame him.

  The door to the office was pushed open, and Carter stepped inside, closing it behind him. “What the hell is going on in here? You two are yelling
so loud the entire club can hear you.”

  Rowen faced their third partner and waved a hand through the air as he sarcastically brought him up to speed. “Lincoln here apparently hasn’t gotten laid in a while, so he thinks it’s a good idea to use my sister to remind himself what it feels like to have his cock inside a woman.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Lincoln fumed. Rowen was going too far.

  Carter shot him a wide-eyed stare.

  Lincoln kept talking. “You know I’m not that kind of asshole, Rowen. So shut the fuck up and listen to reason. Sasha is hell-bent on exploring her submissive side. That leaves you with two choices, let her go find herself with random strangers in a club across town or let me gently guide her in a caring way that won’t cause her any permanent damage when she realizes she isn’t cut out for this lifestyle.”

  “He’s got a point,” Carter stated, leaning against the door and crossing his ankles, clearly prepared to watch the shit-show.

  “He’s got a hard-on,” Rowen shot back. “I can’t even remember the last time he got laid.” He turned his gaze from Carter to Lincoln. “I’m not with my sister twenty-four seven and haven’t been for years, but I think I can safely say that she’s about as innocent as a twenty-two-year-old girl can be.”

  “Woman,” Lincoln interjected.

  “What?” Rowen yelled.

  “She’s a woman, dude. Your sister grew up several years ago. Stop thinking of her as a kid.”

  Carter spoke again, though perhaps unwisely. “He has another good point.”

  Rowen spun around to face their partner, who also happened to be the club’s head bouncer and thus significantly larger than either of them. “Whose side are you on?”

  “I’m on Sasha’s side. Someone has to be. The two of you have been acting like toddlers in here.”

  Lincoln exhaled slowly. Carter was right. He needed to pull himself together. Think. Maybe Rowen was right too. This entire idea was stupid and ill-planned. He never should have offered to train her. Hell, where would he even work with her? It wasn’t as though he could do it here at the club under her brother’s nose. And considering how she reacted at Breeze tonight, he didn’t want her in a public BDSM club at all.