Not Negotiable: A Trident Security Series Novella - Book 3.5

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by Cole, Samantha




  Not Negotiable

  Trident Security Book 3.5

  A Novella

  By Samantha Cole

  Not Negotiable

  Copyright (c) 2015 Samantha Cole

  All Rights Reserved.

  Not Negotiable is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Front Cover Designed by Samantha Cole

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  The story within these pages is completely fictional but the concepts of BDSM are real. If you do choose to participate in the BDSM lifestyle, please research it carefully and take all precautions to protect yourself. Fiction is based on real life but real life is not based on fiction. Remember-Safe, Sane and Consensual!

  Dedication

  To my beautiful cousin, Ginger, who passed away after a four year battle with inoperable lung cancer while I was writing this book.

  Forty-five years with you in my life was not long enough.

  XOXO

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Other Books By Samantha Cole

  Connect With Me

  Acknowledgements

  To the fans of the Trident Security Series—you’ll find that Shelby and Parker’s story is a little different from the other books in the series. There is no one shooting at them, or trying to kidnap them for any reason, but they do have their struggles. I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for asking for more stories about my characters. It is because of you that I continue to write them.

  To Tori and Bullmastiff Rescue, Inc. for helping to bring Spanky into this story.

  As always, thanks to my Beta-readers and friends who’ve help make this book the best it can be.

  Chapter 1

  Mentally rolling his eyes, Parker Christiansen listened as his older brother droned on about life in Boston—a life Parker felt he never fit into and had left behind years ago. Dave was just like their parents—stuck-up, arrogant, and rich. He’d even followed in the their father’s footsteps and became a successful corporate lawyer. Meanwhile, Parker had taken his love for using his hands to build things and become an architect/builder/contractor. And no matter how successful he’d made his company, New Horizons, his father always managed to put him down. Nothing he ever did was good enough for the old man. Their family come from wealth and privilege, and Judge Alan and Janet Christiansen couldn’t accept that their youngest son liked getting his hands dirty. They also didn’t like that Parker was a Dom in the BDSM lifestyle—a fact Alan had found out by accident several years ago—and he never let his son forget it.

  But his brother had always been curious about the lifestyle—not in front of their parents, of course. Dave had called him a few weeks ago, saying he was going to be in Florida on business this weekend and he wanted Parker to bring him as a guest to the club he belonged to. The Covenant was a private and elite BDSM club in Tampa and Parker had been a member since the doors opened over four years ago. His company had done some of the work on the club, as well as the other three warehouses in the gated compound. He had converted one of the buildings into two apartments for the club’s owners, Ian and Devon Sawyer, and was in the process of adding two more apartments in the currently unused half of the building. From what he was told, Ian’s god-daughter, Jenn, was getting one, while their younger brother would be given the keys to the last unit for when he retired from the Navy. One of the other buildings was home to the Sawyers’ company, Trident Security. The ex-Navy SEALs had a thriving business in both ventures, but their cousin Mitch Sawyer was the third co-owner and manager of the club. The club Parker and Dave were en-route to.

  Parker had given Mitch his brother’s name to get him cleared to be a guest. The Covenant was extremely strict with running background checks on potential members and visitors. Legally-binding privacy contracts had to be signed to ensure what happened at the club, stayed at the club.

  “Why do you want to check out the club again? I thought Carol was against the lifestyle.”

  Dave shrugged. “She agreed our marriage needs a little spicing up. I’m thinking about joining a club outside Boston, but wanted to check one out first with you, so you can fill me in on the lifestyle a little more.”

  Pulling off the highway, Parker drove down the private road leading to the compound. “Take your license out. You need to show it to the guard.”

  “There’s guards?”

  “Yeah. The Sawyers’ take the security here seriously.” He took the ID his brother handed him, rolled down the window, and gave it to the guard. “Hey, Murray. What are you doing here? Thought you only worked days.”

  The burly, armed guard swiped the license through his hand-held computer, compared the picture and name to the approved list, then handed the card back to Parker. “Just grabbing a little overtime. One of the guys called in sick. You’re all cleared. Have a good night.”

  “Thanks. You, too.”

  Parker found a spot for his truck and killed the ignition. “Give me your cell phone.”

  “Why?” Despite his question, Dave handed him the device.

  “They aren’t allowed on the floor of the club.” Well, they were if they remained in a pocket or purse. Any texting or talking on phones had to be done in the lobby or parking lot. But Parker didn’t want his brother to be tempted to use it inside. He tossed the phone, along with his own, into the glove compartment. “All right. Remember. I’m responsible for you in here. At the front desk, you’ll get a yellow wristband that indicates you’re a guest and not available for play. You don’t do anything without checking with me first. When I introduce you to anyone, you ask permission of the Doms or Dommes to speak to their submissives. There’s a two drink limit for guests and anyone who is going to play. Don’t ask for more than that because they keep track.”

  Waving him off, Dave climbed out of the Chevy Tahoe. “I got it. I read all the stuff you sent in the email. No worries.”

  Despite his brother’s assurance, Parker still couldn’t help but think this was a big mistake.

  * * *

  Shelby Whitman walked out into the main room of the club and let the pulsating music flow through her body. Ian’s new submissive seemed nice. When they’d met a few minutes ago in the women’s locker room, Angie appeared nervous, but that was expected for a sub’s first time in a BDSM club. Shelby hoped she’d eased the woman’s anxiety with her little pep talk.

  Taking a quick glance down her body, Shelby grinned at her new outfit. Tonight’s color was electric blue. Her bra, mini-skirt, which flared out when she turned, and wig with straight hair to her shoulders, all matched perfectly. What had started as a way to hide her thinning hair from radiation treatments years ago, had become a fashion statement which had remained long after her treatments for ovarian cancer were completed.
Now, cancer-free for six years, she still wore a different colored wig to match her outfit every time she came to the club.

  Glancing around, she tried to tell herself she wasn’t looking for him, but her gaze still searched for those gentle brown eyes and blond crew-cut. There were plenty of single, hot Doms at The Covenant, but something about Parker Christiansen always drew her in, making her libido wake up and take notice. Totally drool-worthy, he was continually tan from working outside. She knew he owned his building company, however, he wasn’t the type of guy to sit behind a desk and let others do the dirty work. Parker got right down in the trenches with his employees.

  But the Dom wasn’t for her. He needed more than a submissive…he needed a wife. Parker was the type of guy who should grow old with the woman he loved, spoiling lots of children and grandchildren. Something Shelby could never give him. It was part of the reason why she liked the lifestyle—well, besides the awesome orgasms she tended to receive on a regular basis from any of the other single Doms who wanted to play. She could hook up with anyone who wasn’t looking for long-term…anyone who only wanted a relationship here at the club and not out in the ‘real’ world.

  Before her cancer, she had wanted a long-term relationship with a Dom/husband, two-point-six kids, a dog, and a house with a white picket fence. But that was before fate had been cruel. Now she had nothing to offer a man except sex and friendship. So she came here, put on her best smile and the bouncy personality everyone loved, before going home…alone.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed Master Parker from her mind and headed over to the submissives’ waiting area. Maybe Masters Brody and Marco would be here and willing to indulge her in one of their ménages. The two of them always left her sated and well-cared for without emotional attachments. And that was just fine with her.

  * * *

  An hour after they arrived, Parker was dying to get out of there. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be at the club, he just didn’t want to be there with his brother. He knew this had been a mistake. While Dave had been asking a whole bunch of questions, it was obvious he still had no clue about the lifestyle and didn’t belong in it. It was also pissing the Dom off that his brother was leering at every scantily dressed sub that walked by as if they were a piece of meat. Having him here was a recipe for disaster.

  In addition to his brother issues, he didn’t want to watch Shelby scene with the Masters of Ménage. Brody Evans and Marco DeAngelis were the popular tag-team duo for the female submissives, and a few minutes ago, he’d watched from afar as Shelby and the two Doms negotiated a scene. Well, mostly Brody did the negotiating with the blonde sub. Marco was on Dungeon Master duty at the moment and had kept one ear on the other two and his eyes on everything else going on around him. The DMs were all experienced Doms or Dommes who took shifts to ensure no harm came to any submissive, whether intentional or not. And Parker was one of them.

  Forcing himself to stop mooning over Shelby, who was chatting with a few other people in a sitting area designated for submissive’s, he bit the inside of his lip in frustration. She was probably waiting for Marco to get off his scheduled shift. Parker glanced at his watch. The DM would be free in about fifteen minutes. “Hey, Dave. Since you can’t play and I can’t leave you alone, why don’t we go somewhere else and have a few drinks.”

  His brother tilted his head. “I’m fine here, but if you want, we can sit upstairs, have a few drinks, and watch from one of the balcony tables.”

  Not the response he wanted, but at least they’d be out of the ‘pit’ as the members called the huge, downstairs playroom. The entrance was on the second floor where the bar was. The U-shaped balcony had numerous seating areas, with some along the railing so members could observe the scenes from above. He could pick the side over the spanking benches, so he wouldn’t have to watch Shelby’s threesome and dream she was his submissive—and his alone. He’d tried to negotiate with her twice in the past and she’d turned him down both times. It was a single submissive’s prerogative to play or not play with whomever they wanted, and a Dom had to accept it. He only wished he knew why she wanted nothing to do with him.

  Parker stood. “Yeah, that’s fine. Let’s take a walk through the locker rooms. I need to hit the john.”

  Their table was not far from the submissive’s waiting area, halfway between the grand staircase and the St. Andrew’s cross on a small stage in the middle of the room. Usually the stage was reserved for highlighted scenes or commitment ceremonies. Devon and his sub/fiancée, Kristen Anders, had their ceremony on it a few months ago, and Parker was glad his friend had finally found someone to love. He only hoped someday he could be so lucky.

  Still eyeing the activity around them, his brother remained seated. “I’ll wait here for you. No rush.”

  “I’m not supposed to leave you unattended.”

  Dave rolled his eyes. “Come on, Park. I’m a grown man and don’t need a babysitter. I promise to wait right here.”

  Hesitating, Parker was about to say no way, but Dave gave him that stare that always made him feel like the idiot of the family. That fucking holier-than-thou look that said I’m better than you’ll ever be. “All right, fine. But stay here and don’t talk to anyone unless they approach you first. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He headed to the locker room, glancing over his shoulder once at his brother. The cocky bastard gave him one of those condescending waves like he was shooing away an annoying gnat. Parker winced and disappeared into the men’s lounge. In here the sounds of flesh, or leather, smacking flesh, and orgasms being reached, faded away while the thumping music was muffled enough so he could hear himself think. Why he agreed to come here tonight, he had no idea. It wasn’t like Dave and him were the closest of brothers…hell, if it wasn’t for the blood relation, Parker wouldn’t even consider him a friend. Four years younger than Dave’s age of thirty-five, he had always lived in the guy’s shadow. That was one of the reasons he’d moved to Florida…to get away from his family.

  Brody stepped up to the urinal next to Parker. “Hey, man. How you doing?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Not bad at all. Especially since little Miss Shelby negotiated a scene with Marco and I for later. Damn, I love that little firecracker.”

  Parker clenched his teeth. He knew Brody didn’t have anything but respect for the submissive, however, it irked him that the big bastard knew her in a way Parker had never experienced. The computer geek of Trident Security was a former Navy SEAL, as was each of his co-workers. He also had a heart of gold and seemed to be well-liked by everyone who met him. Brody treated every female submissive as they should be treated…like they were the most precious women in the world.

  Zipping up his pants, Parker turned toward the sinks and tried to pretend it didn’t bother him who Shelby hooked up with. “Well, then, have a good time.”

  “Hey, before I forget…can I call you during the week? I want to overhaul the master bath in my new place. Pink tile and me don’t exactly go together and the shower is way too fucking small.” He finished at the urinals and stepped over to where Parker was washing his hands.

  “Yeah, sure. Monday’s usually a busy day, but I should have time Tuesday afternoon to swing by and take a look.” Shaking the excess water from his hands, Parker reached over and grabbed a paper towel. He glanced back to see the other man was nodding.

  “That should work. I’ll call you Tuesday morning to confirm. Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Slapping Brody on the shoulder as he walked by, he told him, “No problem. See you later.”

  Wanting to get out of the club now more than ever, Parker strode back out to the pit, where two things hit him at once. One—his brother wasn’t where he left him—and two—there was a large, loud crowd near the submissives’ area and it didn’t appear to be for anything good. Fuck!

  Shoving his way through the group, he wasn’t expecting what he saw, although he wasn’t too surprised. Dave was on the floor, being held f
ace-down by a furious Marco, with one arm hitched high behind his back. His brother was no match for the security operative who worked out on almost a daily basis.

  Parker had a sinking feeling in his stomach when he saw three women also on the floor a few feet away. Mistress China and a woman he didn’t recognize had their arms around…shit…a crying Shelby. Wide-eyed, she was holding a trembling hand against her cheek, while the Domme looked ready to spit nails.

  With his fists clenched, he turned his attention back to the two men and barked, "What the fuck, Dave? What the hell did you do?"

  "I didn't do anything. Now get this fucking gorilla off me. I'm going to sue if he doesn't get off me."

  The whiny, pain-filled order didn’t gain any sympathy from Parker. His gaze went to Marco, who growled and returned the questioning look with a pissed-off glower. "This asshole backhanded Shelby. I had people in my way and couldn't get here fast enough to stop him."

  What? The bastard hit Shelby? My Shelby? A woman who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Parker was livid. Glancing back toward the crying submissive, his blood hit the boiling point. Through gritted teeth, he addressed the other Dom. "He's my brother. Let him up, Marco."

  Marco’s eyes flickered to Ian who was standing next to Parker. Travis ‘Tiny’ Daultry, the head of club security, and several other guards had pushed the crowd back to give the Doms some room. Ian crossed his arms and studied Parker's face. Parker knew his fury was showing and he silently begged the owner to let him take care of this. Ian didn’t say a word, but nodded at Marco, who let go of the bastard and stood.

  As Dave got to his feet, Parker couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to say, "What's the big deal? Everyone is slapping women around here, and I get in trouble for what you all are doing."

  Parker took a step closer to him, his voice low and barely controlled. "You okay?"

 

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