Doms of Dark Haven 2: Western Night
Page 1
Doms of Dark Haven 2:
Western Night
Sierra Cartwright,
Belinda McBride, and Cherise Sinclair
www.loose-id.com
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Doms of Dark Haven 2: Western Night
Copyright © May 2011 by Loose Id LLC
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Publisher acknowledges the authors and copyright holders of the individual works, as follows:
A Good sub Would…
Copyright © May 2011 by Sierra Cartwright
Hunting Holly
Copyright © May 2011 by Belinda McBride
Welcome to the Dark Side
Copyright © May 2011 by Cherise Sinclair
eISBN 978-1-61118-410-5
Editors: Jana J. Hanson, Sandra Rychel, and G. G. Royale
Cover Artist: April Martinez
Printed in the United States of America
Published by
Loose Id LLC
PO Box 425960
San Francisco CA 94142-5960
www.loose-id.com
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Good sub Would…
Sierra Cartwright
Chapter One
“It’s your bet, Master David.”
Silence hung over Dark Haven’s makeshift poker room as everyone waited for
Shelby’s sometimes-dom to answer Master Trevor’s challenge.
From her peripheral gaze, she noticed one of the dungeon monitors head for the door, presumably to fetch Master Xavier, the club’s owner. The friendly game of poker to benefit a children’s charity had just taken an interesting turn.
Shelby continued to kneel on the floor next to David’s chair and told herself a good sub would keep her gaze on the floor. A good sub would mind her business while the doms conducted their wager.
A good sub would school her mind and focus on her dom’s wishes. And David’s wish was for her to behave so he’d look good.
Earlier, after he’d picked her up from her hotel, he’d told her he intended to play Master Trevor in tonight’s charity Texas Hold’em tournament at San Francisco’s Dark Haven. In fact, if all went according to his plan, the evening would end in a showdown between Trevor and David.
Shelby knew that her friend, David, had a complex relationship with Master Trevor, and six months ago, he’d lost a sub to other man. According to the story, David had been at Dark Haven with Janine, a fun but fickle sub who changed doms like others changed shoes. After seeing that Master Trevor was alone, she’d unfastened David’s collar and tossed it over her shoulder before kissing Master Trevor’s boots.
Although Master Trevor hadn’t accepted Janine as his sub, hadn’t even played with her that night, David’s ego had still been battered.
And now that everyone else had folded or busted, the last hand of Hold’em had, indeed, come down to the two of them.
At the beginning of the evening, David had made a charitable contribution of a thousand dollars in exchange for poker chips. Earlier, he’d been up substantially. But over the last half hour, his pile had diminished rapidly. His bets had become more and more reckless, and it seemed as if he was barely looking at his cards, let alone the flop, before raising the stakes. If she’d noticed that, so had his opponent.
Tension rippled across the room.
Each man had already been dealt their first two—hole—cards. And only moments before, the dealer had turned over the flop, the first three of five potential community cards.
She had no idea what either man was holding in the pocket, but a surreptitious glance had told her the flop’s high card was a king of spades. There were no pairs, no other face cards. A heart and a diamond meant a flush was unlikely, possible but not probable.
“Master David?” Master Trevor prompted a second time.
Shelby noticed David’s hand form a fist alongside his right thigh, betraying his agitation. He’d run through his first thousand dollars. He was a lawyer in an area of town with a high crime rate. It was a decent job, she knew. It paid the bills, but David all but ran a nonprofit. He took on significant amounts of pro bono cases. His offices were run-down and beat-up, and he’d never met a sob story that didn’t tug his heartstrings or hurt his wallet. His wages definitely didn’t finance a luxury lifestyle.
Time dragged, and she shifted. Being a good sub, she was learning, wasn’t as easy in real life as it was in her fantasies. She knew stealing a glance at either man—especially Master Trevor—might earn her a spanking from an angry David, but out of boredom mixed with healthy curiosity, she was contemplating the risk.
Even though she lived in Denver and only visited Dark Haven a few times a year, she knew of Master Trevor’s stern reputation. Other subs dreamily whispered about him, wanting to experience his lash.
He stood well over six feet tall and commanded respect just by walking into a room. His broad shoulders, dark hair, unyielding jaw, and purposeful stride were the stuff of fantasies. Factor in his sexy, gravelly voice and she’d been a goner from the start.
If she were honest, she’d admit the other subs weren’t the only ones to fantasize about him. Ever since she’d first seen him last fall, she’d masturbated to images of him, and she hadn’t felt guilty doing so. He was exactly the type of man she wanted to dominate her.
She and David had known each other since college, and their friendship was more of a companionship than a relationship. Truth was, they were too good of friends to be fabulous lovers. Even their BDSM scenes had become a bit boring. She might not have a lot of experience, but she suspected he allowed her to get away with too much; being with him was nothing like her fantasies, nothing like the books she read or the videos she watched.
The last time she’d been with him in San Francisco, she’d tried to hide yawns she’d blamed on jetlag. She’d initially declined his most recent invitation, but when he’d mentioned that Dark Haven and its Western-themed night were on the agenda, she’d rearranged her client load so she could fly in and attend.
Even though she had been kneeling on the floor for at least an hour, seeing Master Trevor with a replica six-shooter strapped to his thigh made everything bearable.
A cowboy hat sat jaggedly atop his head, partially shadowing his steely, electric blue eyes.
He’d wrapped a dark blue bandanna around his throat, and a tailored We
stern shirt hugged his upper body.
Because she’d been placed on the floor like a good little sub, she knew his brown cowboy boots were authentic, marred and scratched by the years. He also wore a pair of spurs. The silver had dulled, but they had made a forceful sound when he’d walked across the floor earlier.
The dark color of his jeans had faded slightly, and he’d obviously worn them a number of times, long enough that the denim had broken in to hug his strong thighs.
Master Trevor sat easily in his chair, his shoulders relaxed. He toyed with several high denomination chips, turning them over between his thumb and forefinger.
Last night, after she’d packed her suitcase for the trip to the West Coast, she’d drizzled lube onto her bullet vibrator and lay down on her bed with her legs spread. She’d imagined him drawing her across a room and tying her to a spanking bench, her ass upturned for his hand or a flogger, whatever he chose. After tonight, though, and seeing the well-worn belt circling his waist, she knew future fantasies would include that supple leather against her backside.
Unable to help herself as the minutes dragged on, she sneaked a glance at the object of her desire. He looked at her—apparently sensing her perusal—and held her gaze captive.
A shiver of fear mixed with desire raced up her spine as they made eye contact.
In that brief second, his steel blue eyes promised one thing: punishment. If she were his sub, her out-of-bounds behavior wouldn’t be tolerated. He’d expect, and demand, perfect submission.
Her breaths threatened to strangle her.
She wanted him. She craved his dominance. And her raw need scared her.
He raised a brow commandingly and nodded toward the floor.
Even though he wasn’t her dom, she immediately dropped her gaze to stare at the wooden floor.
BDSM wasn’t a way of life for her. Rather it was something she occasionally enjoyed, much like having dessert after a celebratory dinner. The weekends a few times a year satisfied her needs. Or they had, until right now, until this powerful reaction to Master Trevor’s unspoken command.
She heard the echo of footsteps, and she dared another surreptitious look. This time, though, she didn’t look up. She glanced sideways so it wasn’t immediately noticeable that she was deliberately disobeying both Master Trevor and David.
Destiny, the club’s receptionist who seemed to know everything and everyone, and Master Xavier had entered the room.
The club’s enigmatic owner came in without saying anything. He didn’t need to. Master Xavier electrified the air. An alpha among alphas, he was dressed in black trousers and a burgundy vest. His long black hair hung down in back in an oh-so-sexy braid. As if comfortable with his legendary status, he folded his arms across his chest, lord and master of all he surveyed. Everyone knew it; everyone respected his authority.
“Having trouble with your sub?” Master Trevor asked David, looking across the table and inclining his head in her direction.
Oh God. Oh God.
Startled, fearful, she looked at him.
This wasn’t a man to be trifled with. He was as unyielding as his reputation suggested.
David dug his fingers into her hair and forced her head down. For long seconds he kept his hand painfully on her scalp. Her eyes watered, but she kept her mouth shut.
After his experience with Janine, she knew what her disobedience meant to David, especially in front of Master Trevor. More than ever, she wished she could behave better. In her mind, she was a much better sub than in reality.
Silence seemed to drag.
“What do we have here?” Master Xavier asked finally.
“We’re waiting, My Liege,” the dealer said. “It’s Master David’s turn to place his bet.”
True to the club’s theme night, the man looked every bit the part of an Old West poker dealer. He wore a long-sleeved striped shirt with a garter around his biceps. A knotted bow tie, gold brocade vest, jeans, and a hat completed his outfit.
David glanced across the table.
She knew they each saw the same thing. Master Trevor had the resources to call any bet he could make.
Pulling his money clip from his front pocket, David said, “Another thousand dollars in chips.”
Shelby gasped. Another thousand dollars? Was he crazy? He’d be willing to bet that on two potential turns of the cards?
“While the children’s charity will appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Master Xavier said, “the evening has already been a huge success.”
Shelby admired the owner’s tact. He was offering a dom an easy and graceful way to back out of his aggressive wager. No wonder the man was so respected in San Francisco’s BDSM circles.
“A thousand dollars,” David repeated, peeling off bills and tossing them onto the felt-covered table.
Shelby had never known David to be reckless. Suddenly she was questioning everything she knew about him. Surely the experience with Janine had stung, but no way did the woman matter that much to him. So what the hell was he thinking and doing?
As the moments stretched, Shelby concentrated on her breathing and keeping her body still and being a good sub instead of shifting uncomfortably. Her entire body was fatigued, and she wanted this ridiculous display of David’s masculine ego to be over.
Kneeling for several hours while the men played and she was ignored had not been what she was anticipating when she boarded the flight early this morning at Denver International Airport.
“My Liege?” the dealer asked.
Technically, this was against the rules. Chips needed to “purchased” up front, from the club’s receptionist, Destiny. David was behaving more like he was at a casino than at a charity event.
The quiet conversation that had hummed through the poker room abruptly died as people eavesdropped, waiting for Master Xavier’s decision.
“The children’s charity is the beneficiary,” Master Xavier said with a nod.
The dealer exchanged the cash for poker chips and then gave the money to Destiny for safekeeping.
For a minute, David sat there, as if considering his bet. “Five hundred,” he said finally, pushing a pile of chips into the middle of the table.
Someone whistled.
That was an aggressive bet considering his remaining funds.
Master Trevor studied the flop, but he never glanced at his two cards. Then he thumbed back the brim of his hat. He allowed thirty seconds to pass before he said, “Call.” He matched the other man’s bet.
Master Trevor had more than enough funds to raise the bet. It seemed that, since he hadn’t raised, he might be playing a bit of cat-and-mouse. Either that or the flop hadn’t helped him.
The dealer burned the next card. As each player watched intently, the man then flipped up the next one, known as the turn. Ten of spades.
David reached for her and put his hand lightly on the top of her head. He all but petted her. His touch telegraphed confidence. Maybe he did know what he was doing. She hoped he had spades in the hole.
Master Trevor waited for David’s bet.
“One hundred dollars,” he said, adding the chips to the pot.
The bet was at odds with the way he was stroking her. Either his bet was a bluff or his relaxed behavior was.
“Raise,” Master Trevor said. “Four hundred.”
The other dom apparently had a better hand, or he was trying to force David’s hand.
David was almost out of options. If he wanted to raise, he needed more chips. At this point, he had to fold or go all in.
Over the past few seconds, David’s hand had tightened on her scalp. He might have a good hand, but he didn’t have the funds to back it.
He reached for his money clip again.
Was he crazy?
Before peeling off the few remaining bills, he sat back and said, “Let’s make it more interesting.”
Master Xavier raised a brow.
Other doms, with their subs trailing behind, wandered over and formed a ci
rcle around the table.
“If I win, Lawton International remodels the Northwest Community law offices.”
Shelby gasped. She’d been thinking this might be about Janine and a grudge. And it had nothing to do with that.
He’d maneuvered this entire evening to manipulate Master Trevor into donating his time to David’s cause?
Master Trevor sat back in his chair. “You’re asking me to put up something close to half a million dollars?”
“I’ll buy materials.”
“Generous,” Master Trevor said.
For long moments he sat there quietly, a study in self-mastery.
Finally, Master Trevor nodded. “If I win, I want the sub.”
Shelby’s heart stopped.
“Wait a fucking—”
“Master David,” Master Xavier admonished quietly. “I’ll thank you to be more respectful in my club.”
Despite the fact David’s fingers were digging into her scalp, she looked directly at Master Trevor.
His gaze was pinned on her, hot, hard, as if he’d been waiting for and anticipating her inability to keep looking at the ground.
“Can’t get your own subs, Trevor?” David demanded.
Master Trevor didn’t respond. Rather, he continued to look at her.
She knew she should look down, show him the respect he demanded, but she didn’t; she couldn’t.
She felt scorched as his gaze trailed from her face, down her body, lingering for a few seconds on her chest. In keeping with the Western-themed night, she’d selected a white shelf bra and a fringed leather vest. She’s spent a week shopping for a beautiful sterling bolo tie. It had cost a lot more money than she wanted to pay, but the way it caught the light when she moved made it worth every penny.
He continued his perusal and paused again at her pelvis. Unlike some of the other subs who were almost completely naked, her mound was covered by a pink thong. Still, she had felt completely exposed to him.