The only significant change in her appearance was her hair. Kennedy insisted she wear it up in a fairly complicated style she’d never hope to replicate, instead of in its usual no-nonsense braid. Lois brushed it until the mousy blonde shone with subdued highlights and thought maybe she looked okay. The other changes were subtle. Her eyes looked bigger, full of anticipation, and there was a flush of hectic color across her cheekbones. Even her lips looked fuller, more relaxed. Could this be anticipation? Excitement? It was an interesting feeling. Kennedy suggested she not bother with makeup, as she usually didn’t use any, aside from lip gloss.
“Ready?” Graham rapped on the doorframe, and she and Kennedy both jumped. He was wearing those leather pants with the boots she remembered and a snowy-white shirt. Kennedy crossed to him and went up on tiptoe to offer her lips. He bent to accommodate her, looping an arm around her waist, and Lois thought they should get a room.
“You take care of her, Graham. And I don’t know why you feel the need to wear your leathers!”
Lois heard the lack of censure in Kennedy’s voice, heard the teasing. So did Graham, who winked at her over his wife’s head.
“You never know if Patrick might need an extra pair of hands or something in the dungeon, honey.”
“Your leathers won’t protect you if you pull that crap, Gray.” Kennedy morphed from sweet, teasing wife into threatening, possessive wench in an instant.
“And there’s my girl.” Graham kissed her again, and Kennedy clung to him. “Later, sweetheart. Don’t wait up. I promise to wake you and tell you all when I get home, but you get your rest. Baby brat is making you tired.”
Lois immediately felt guilty. Kennedy was pregnant, exhausted, and being left at home to watch Nathan while she went to a sex club.
“Enough, Lois.” Graham deepened his voice and fixed those silver eyes on her. Lois looked at Kennedy for a split second before nodding hard in compliance.
“Let me find those shoes for you, Lois.” Kennedy hurried down the hall. They wore the same size in footwear despite the disparity in body type. Kennedy was small and curvy. She was just small.
Lois ducked her head and followed. Graham chuckled behind her, and she knew she heard him mutter submissive under his breath. And he wasn’t talking about his wife. Kennedy returned with a pair of red stilettos, and Lois gingerly stepped into them. She instantly felt the difference. Librarian, meet slut.
“Good choice, honey. We’ll see you later.”
Lois impulsively hugged Kennedy and stepped back in haste, casting a look at Graham.
“S’okay, Lois. Graham doesn’t have those kinds of fantasies. Because I don’t.”
She was so not going there. She pretended to smooth her skirt while her employers kissed yet again, and then Graham was opening the door and escorting her through it. He helped her into the truck, and if it wasn’t for her turbulent anticipatory thoughts, Lois would have remarked on his courtliness. She felt no sexual interest in Graham per se, or in Kennedy, so thought she was probably a voyeur if any label applied. Although she didn’t think about that evening in their bedroom if she could help it. Much.
The drive was comfortably silent and went quickly. When Graham pulled up in front of a tall building close to downtown, Lois scrutinized it as best she could in the street lighting. She had no idea what a BDSM club should look like, but this one fit in with the surroundings, and she’d have walked past it without a second glance. Graham spoke to the man on the door who agreed to park the car and introduced her to him. He wasn’t overly tall, but he was immensely broad, his chest and forearms covered in some remarkable tattoos, some of them quite shockingly beautiful. His glance slipped over her in a practiced manner, and Lois shivered. It was both blatant and assessing, almost leisurely, before he nodded. Maybe it was a test.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Alain.” The librarian spoke with learned civility. The slut was terrified.
Maurice smiled at her, a remarkably sweet smile for such a bad boy. “Likewise.”
He held the door for them after pocketing Graham’s keys. Graham preceded her, and Lois realized she’d been relegated to a submissive role as soon as they crossed the threshold. It amused her in a distant way, but the skittering of her heart in her throat was front and center, vying with the loud, pounding beat of the music. Graham led the way into a large room filled with different seating arrangements and stopped by one configuration of two chairs and a little table. He gestured to one chair, and Lois obediently sat. It was nice not having to wonder what to do, where to go, where to sit, how to act. She knew people were looking at her, and she surreptitiously peeked around from under her lashes. She didn’t have that awkward feeling, that look at the geeky woman who just came in feeling she often had in social situations. She was under Graham’s protection and felt content.
There were a few couples in the room, and one woman sitting between two men on a large couch against the far wall. All were engrossed in one another. The man on the right of the woman in the middle stroked her hair, and she leaned into him, her eyes closed and lips parted. The other man palmed her knee. It wasn’t overtly sexual, yet it was. It made Lois’s nipples bead and her sex tingle. There were three men dressed similarly to Graham. One of them was perched on the arm of a chair with his back to her, while the others leaned against the wall. The single men were all looking at her, and they weren’t hiding it. The one sitting twisted around to stare. He had a quality about him, something she tried hard to place. She considered, and then figured it was his casual arrogance and confidence. Not overdone and reassuring somehow. Interesting. She rarely looked at men, but now her horizons had widened and—
“You made a good impression on Maurice, and he’s rarely wrong.”
Lois bit back a squeak of surprise. Graham set her drink down on the little table and dropped into the other chair. “He seemed nice.”
Graham loosed a bark of laughter. “Maurice isn’t nice, Lois. That’s why he’s on the door. He plays in the hard dungeon when he plays. He’s an inflexible Dom and has specific tastes.”
Lois didn’t like the sound of that. Kennedy explained the difference between middle-of-the-road Lifestyle and hard-core. Her ears were pierced, and that was enough. It had been her one small act of defiance in childhood. She had no need to be branded to know who she belonged to if she was ever lucky enough to be claimed. Lois didn’t want to be humbled, degraded, or humiliated. Her mom practiced those black arts, and she wasn’t going there again. She’d be properly deferent to Maurice and give him a wide berth. She was adept at not garnering unnecessary attention.
“There’s a dance floor on the other side of those folding doors. We use it for the meet and greets and some special occasions, like a party or a celebration, a ceremony maybe, but people don’t usually come here to dance.
“There’s three unattached Doms in the room.” Graham kept up a running commentary. “They’re checking you out. I’m not introducing you to anyone else tonight unless we see Patrick. So keep behaving just as you are. They’ll all get the message.”
Bossy much? If she hadn’t seen Kennedy put Graham in his place, he might have scared her. As it was she was torn between seeing him as her boss and like a younger brother. She really wanted to meet that good-looking Dom who was still watching her. Shy, good-girl Lois was banished. The weight of his gaze was palpable, and a flurry of excitement giddyuped in her belly. He was good-looking, beautifully cut dark brown hair framing a rough-hewn face, nicely shaped lips she could imagine kissing. Broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt, and his leathers molded the length of a muscled thigh. One hand rested casually on that thigh, and she noted the blocky size of it. She wondered how it might feel on her body. She thought his eyes were a dark blue but needed to get closer to determine her guess. Something Graham wasn’t allowing tonight.
She obeyed his edict. Graham told her the three people sitting together were in a ménage, and that really interested her. Imagine having two men care for a woma
n, love her, and make love to her! That woman looked blissfully happy. Graham narrowed his eyes at her, and she knew he’d picked up on her interest. The other couples were in D/s relationships, although one of the women was apparently the dominant in theirs. The man with her sat quietly, yet Lois could see how alert he was to his Domme’s every move. She periodically laid her hand on either his arm or thigh, and he visibly relished her touch. Neither spoke that she could tell, and yet she could see the intense connection and nonverbal communication. Graham didn’t talk about the Doms, and she decided to ask about the one she’d really noticed.
“That’s Master Trevor. He scenes or offers up as a third. He’s been looking at you the whole time. He doesn’t do that, usually.”
Lois wanted to know more.
“Graham.” Another tall man presented himself, and she swallowed the question.
“Hello, Patrick. Good to see you.”
Lois froze. This was Kennedy’s boss. The one who owned the club. She didn’t look at him, uncertain how to react. Graham intervened.
“You remember Lois, Patrick, our nanny. Our submissive nanny. Lois, Master Patrick.”
She sent Graham a glance calculated to convey her annoyance at the teasing label he’d applied before murmuring an acknowledgment of Patrick, who placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face. He stared at her for a moment before smiling, his dark countenance transformed into that incredible handsomeness she remembered, and she smiled back, quite spontaneously.
“Welcome here, Lois.” He released her and turned back to Graham. “Born submissive. She’ll fit in well.”
Okay then. She guessed they would know, but it was getting a little tiresome. Lois kept her mouth shut and her opinion to herself.
“Who’s up tonight?”
“Master Jonathon is working with a new sub, Marguerite. She’s connected to a Dom who’s moving out here next month, and she’s worried about her form. I think this is her last night with Jon. Might be a good scene for Lois to observe.”
“That works. I’ll bring her along. How’s Madi?”
“Well. Exhausted, but well. It’s taken her a long time to get back on her feet. No more pregnancies though. My heart couldn’t stand it.”
Graham and Patrick, make that Master Graham and Master Patrick, began to make their way out of the room. Nobody asked her, but Lois knew Graham’s expectations anyhow. She wished she could have asked a few more questions, especially about Master Patrick’s wife. Babies were exhausting, and it sounded as though the woman hadn’t had an easy time of it. And if she was honest, she wanted to hear more about Master Trevor.
She took a quick sip of the soda and hurried after them, adjusting to her borrowed shoes. No questions, just compliance. It was actually quite freeing. She wondered if she could really feel Master Trevor’s eyes on her or if she was being fanciful. They didn’t go far, just down the hallway, then turned into an open doorway. Lois stepped in behind, and Graham took her wrist to pull her to stand in front of him. He leaned over her shoulder and spoke in her ear.
“Be quiet and observe. If you find you can’t manage anything, face me and we’ll leave quietly. And, Lois? If you ever give your Dom a look like you gave me, especially in front of another Dom, your ass would get paddled red. And maybe not in private.”
Holy crap. Respect. No bratty behavior. Lots to remember. Surely getting aroused at the very thought was twisted. The fictitious Dom she imagined paddling her ass closely resembled Master Trevor. She might be getting ahead of herself, but she felt considerably attracted to him. Probably the ambience. She nodded her understanding, and Graham straightened. She really wasn’t sure about this scene thing. She understood, intellectually, about erotic pain releasing a mixture of endorphins and enhancing pleasure. She reacted sexually to the idea of being restrained and at the sensual mercy of a trusted man. Or two. Yessir, two. Lois Wright obviously was making up for lost time.
But mostly, she wanted to belong to someone or someones who’d take her burdens away, someone she could give herself to without a qualm. Trust, respect, and communication, the basis for any solid relationship. She dared to hope.
* * * *
Trevor stared at the empty doorway. Who was that sub with Graham Alexander? Just a slender slip of a woman, pale and lovely, a mass of golden-brown hair wreathing her head. He longed to release it and wrap his hands in its length. He could imagine her on her knees in front of him, awaiting his command, her little breasts lifted for his caress. His leathers fit uncomfortably tight, and he shifted his position to ease his aching cock. Women often appealed to him, and he’d fucked his way through a considerable number over the years, never committing to one, never settling. He was in demand as a third. Like that should be a source of pride. Oh, the subs liked him, loved his expertise, filling one orifice while their Dom filled another to bring them superb pleasure, but the emotional component was fleeting and lacking.
That little sub screamed to him. Way past appeal. She wasn’t young and stacked. Sadly lacking in protocol, too. The way she stared at him from beneath her long lashes, striving to keep up the pretense, was reflective of a bratty sub or a tourist. Graham was married and pussy whipped. He acknowledged it and bragged on it because the other man was happy. Trevor fiercely envied Graham. He’d found his One, just as Trevor’s best friend Cameron found his One in Olivia. Trevor kept telling himself and others he wanted the same thing, but his actions told a different story. He took single, trained subs for a one nighter or was a third to his friends or other Doms. Which was why his ass was still glued to the arm of this chair instead of up and moving to confront Little Miss Checking Him Out and putting Graham to the test.
Trevor could admit to lusting after Little Miss. He could admit to instant sexual attraction. After all, they were in a place where sex was the big draw. All kinds of sex. Trevor had been dominant in the bedroom since high school. He liked to tie his girlfriends up and make them crazy with pleasure. He cut a swathe in school, too. He took a degree in law enforcement before moving into private security work. His life was all about control and keeping people safe. And he wanted to take that lovely little sub away from Graham, control her, and keep her safe, alone and forever. Pleasure her to insanity. And how nuts was that?
“Comin’?” Randall gestured toward the door. “Jon’s got Marguerite up. Last session.”
Trevor shook his head. “No. Go on ahead. I’ll see what Mallory’s up to tonight. She bartending this week and you know how she gets.”
“Yup. Bored and feeling left out. You always capitalize on that.”
Randall hustled out of the meet-and-greet area before Trevor could respond. What was there to respond to? The other Dom was right. He was lazy, content to fill his nights with casual D and s. Except tonight he really didn’t feel up to it. His tumescence was a thing of the past, presumably following after Little Miss. He’d have a beer and think awhile, maybe give Cameron a call and talk to his buddy. Call him from a goddamn club where he should be enjoying himself instead of pontificating. Shit.
* * * *
People closest to the door shuffled, and an enormous man filled the entry. Lois swore she felt him before she saw him. It was then impossible to keep her eyes lowered. She stared at him, in awe and not caring who knew. He was absolutely, amazingly gorgeous. Maybe six foot four, broad shoulders packed with brawn, arms rippling with muscle, a large expanse of naked skin gleaming under the lights, including his shaven head. His barrel chest was well defined above the ridges of muscle banding his abdomen, and she fancied she could see his heart pump and power that huge torso. She wished Master Trevor hadn’t been wearing a shirt because naked torsos were suddenly Lois’s favorite body part. This Dom obviously took really good care of his body, and Lois made a mental note to look into some form of exercise. It was never too late to start getting fit.
His leathers fit admirably over his hips and thighs just as Master Trevor’s did, and she boldly looked at the front of them where a significant bulge a
dvertised his sex. Slightly embarrassed at her temerity she raised her eyes to his face. Wow. Nothing refined there either. Harsh cheekbones, full, sensuous lips, a blade of a nose and deeply set, dark, dark eyes. Saracen. He could have been the cover model for The Saracen Blade, a favorite book from her teen years. A secret fantasy. Lois sighed a little. Her heart stuttered as his gaze locked with hers, and she felt her body respond, much in the same manner as with Master Trevor. She inadvertently leaned into Graham who immediately supported her with a hand on either side of her waist. The Dom in the lounge area was the good guy. This Dom the bad. Whew.
The Saracen’s eyes dropped to Graham’s hands and flicked back to her face, becoming shuttered. He moved on, and she was aware he’d hesitated for only a few seconds. It seemed more like a lifetime. He looked nearly as good from behind, and she shamelessly checked out his tight, muscular bottom and long, powerful legs. His boots rose to midcalf, well-worn and polished, the heels clocking on the tile floor. Did these guys shop at the same place? It would be nice if Master Trevor happened to be walking away from her as well, so she could enjoy the view. Graham would look as hot, but she wasn’t interested in Graham.
Lois realized a tall, statuesque brunette walked gracefully behind the Saracen, secure in her beauty, wearing a clinging silk robe in a deep shade of amber. Lois had an absurd urge to trip the other woman, send her sprawling on the floor, and then kick her when she was down. She blinked against the overwhelming thoughts and feelings and shivered. Graham instantly spoke in her ear.
Fulfilled [Club Pleasure 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 3