by M. S. Parker
Alix chuckled. “When you say it like that...”
I crossed my arms and leaned back, waiting for him to realize I was only half-joking.
He ran his hand over the dark stubble on his chin. “Sorry. I’m just not used to having to explain it. Usually, the...people I’m talking to already know about the lifestyle.”
I was grateful he didn’t go into detail about just who those people were. Even though I wouldn’t be sleeping with him again, that didn’t mean I wanted to hear about the women he’d been with before me. Or the women he’d be with in the future. The ones who already knew what that lifestyle was already about.
“You want to do a series of photographs showing the BDSM lifestyle. With me.” I had to say it out loud to see if it freaked me out or not. Judging by the rush of arousal that coursed through my veins, I would have to say...not.
“More or less,” Alix said. “The conditions the contract spelled out stay the same. No nudity. And what you said before, about things staying professional between us, that’s still there too.”
I knew if I took the time to think through it, I’d find a dozen reasons why I should tell Alix that I’d be his assistant and nothing more. I didn’t ask for time, but I did have a question.
“Before I can yes or no, I need one thing.”
“What’s that?”
I pressed my hands against my stomach, wishing they could calm the butterflies. “I need to know exactly what you’ll be expecting from me.”
He was quiet for a minute, then stood. “Take the rest of the day off. Tonight, I’ll take you somewhere for research.”
I may not have been overly experienced sexually, but even I could guess that wherever he was taking me, my work clothes wouldn’t cut it.
This was going to be...interesting.
Thirteen
Alix
Deciding to take Sine to Gilded Cage felt right in a way that made me more than a little nervous. My friends and I didn’t bring girls to the club, but after Erik had broken the ice and brought Tanya, we’d assured him we didn’t mind.
Which meant it wouldn’t be an issue for any of the rest of us to do the same. Not that this was the same. This was just business, I’d promised myself.
That promise lasted until I knocked on the door and Sine opened it.
Shit.
Fuck.
I hadn’t told her how to dress because I honestly hadn’t thought of it, but if I had, I never would have imagined this.
She wore no make-up, but the fresh-faced look worked for her. Her curls were as wild as they ever were, and I liked that she hadn’t tried to tame them. Comfortable-looking flats kept her at five feet, which made me remember how delicate she’d felt underneath me. Then I processed the rest of the outfit.
She was wearing shorts, but not some dressy khaki kind of things, or the baggy gym shorts she’d worn the last time I was here. They were short, ending just below her ass, but so tight that she could bend over without flashing anyone. Her shirt was made of the same clingy material, molding to her slim frame and those firm, high breasts. The neckline wasn’t low, and where we were going, she’d be one of the more conservatively dressed patrons, but she would, without a doubt, draw attention. Men like me – or women like me, for that matter – would be enchanted by her.
Shit.
I didn’t want anyone else looking at her. She was mine to look at.
No, not mine, I reminded myself. We’d made that clear. We weren’t together. This was research so she’d feel comfortable doing the series.
Employer-employee. Photographer and model.
No matter what happened at the club, I would keep it professional. Even if that meant I had to threaten to beat the shit out of a few people. Professionally, of course.
“Is there something wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
I jerked my head up. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you’re staring at me.” She crossed her arms, drawing attention to her breasts, and making me suddenly need to adjust myself.
“Trust me,” I said with a wry smile, “where we’re going, I won’t be the only one staring.”
We went in the middle of the week, partly because I figured the chances of the guys being here was smaller than it’d be on a weekend. I didn’t want to try to explain to them who Sine was. I’d seen what happened when Tanya had come to the club when she had been Erik’s editor. Erik had claimed her, right then and there, and nothing he said after that mattered. She was his, even if he hadn’t been willing to admit it yet.
I wasn’t sure what I would do if faced with the same situation, and I didn’t think I wanted to find out. Sine and I had an understanding, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that.
Still, as we made our way through the club to one of the tables at the back, I found my hand hovering over the small of her back, my instinct to protect more than guide. And hidden under that, my need to let everyone here know that she was with me.
Okay, maybe not so hidden.
“We’re going to sit back there,” I said, leaning down so I could speak in her ear without having to shout. “Let you get a good look at things.”
She was already looking, I knew. From the moment we walked inside, she hadn’t stopped looking. She didn’t seem freaked out by any of it, not even when Eloise and her partner, Big Cindy, walked by in their matching leather corsets and nipple rings. Most first-timers were easy to spot. They either came in all wide-eyed and blushing, or were all swagger and arrogance.
Sine was neither.
It wasn’t until I settled into the booth next to her that I realized what it was. She was paying attention. To everything. As a photographer, I knew what it was to observe, to see the world without getting involved, but I hadn’t seen it from someone else. She was mentally taking notes, filing away whatever she found interesting.
“Is there anything specific you want me to focus on?” She leaned closer to speak, but didn’t look at me. “Something you have in mind for your photo line?”
Right, the photo series. The reason we’re here.
“I have a few things in mind,” I admitted, shifting into work mode. “Nothing with the clothing.” I glanced sideways at her. “I prefer what you wear.”
A faint flush spread across her cheeks. “You said you didn’t want to only explore bondage, right?”
I nodded. “I’m thinking of this as a sort of juxtaposition between the stereotypes of BDSM and how things really work.”
She turned to me at last, curiosity rather than desire in her eyes. “Show me.”
I stood and held out a hand. She took it, and I kept my fingers curled around hers. We moved around the edge of the dance floor, and I swiped my VIP card across the card reader next to the door.
When we stepped into the room and closed the door behind us, the music faded, and I was made painfully aware that we were alone. In a room with a bed. Again.
To distract myself from how tight my jeans had become, I walked across the room to the wall where a series of whips, floggers, and crops hung.
“Every Dom who uses these has to know exactly how to use them and what sort of damage they each inflict, as well as what their Subs need.” I ran my fingers over a couple of the items. “Subs aren’t the only ones who need to be trained. Doms need it too. A man or woman who picks up one of these things without thoroughly understanding the responsibility they have can hurt someone.”
“So, where society sees abuse and a loss of control...”
I turned as she walked toward me. “The reality is about power, pleasure, and being in control. About knowing what someone else needs, and the two of you coming together to find a connection that provides you both with what you require.”
Even as I said it, I could see the way the light in her eyes flared, the hunger when I talked about power and pleasure and control. I felt it in her body when we were together but hadn’t completely recognized it as the counterbalance to what I needed for myself. Not until now.
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I watched her as she approached the wall, as her hands traced along each item, her eyes studying every line. With the same dedication she’d shown as my assistant, the same scrutiny she’d had in the main room of the club, she looked at and cataloged everything. She would approach being a Sub the same way.
Dammit.
I didn’t want to follow her rules. I wanted my photos, but I wanted her too.
I needed to be smart about it though, or I’d lose everything.
Fourteen
Sine
I told myself to be clinical, to separate what I felt when I was close to Alix from the sexual energy in the club. We’d agreed to be professional.
That hadn’t stopped me from taking the time after work to scour my favorite thrift stores to find the outfit I’d worn last night. It had been a nice compromise of sexy while still being me. The shorts had been a bit shorter than I normally liked, and the top more form-fitting, but the expression on Alix’s face had been worth it.
If he’d been paying more attention to my own face, he would’ve seen a similar appreciation for his attire. Jeans that hugged his thighs and ass without being obscene, and a short-sleeved shirt that left no doubt to whether or not he had a six-pack.
He did.
He’d been careful at the club not to touch me, but I’d felt the heat of him as if we’d been skin to skin. A part of me had wanted to lean into him, not only so I could enjoy his touch, but also to stake a claim. He was there with me. It didn’t matter if I’d put down rules to prevent us from crossing that line again. He’d come with me, and he’d leave with me, even if it wasn’t for the reasons I wished.
I could admit to myself that I wanted him. A purely physical reaction.
At least, that’s what I managed to keep telling myself until we walked out of the club and Alix had gone and done something sweet. There’d been a pair of young women in their mid-twenties giggling and swaying as the doorman flagged down a taxi, and Alix had asked me to wait for him as he went over to the cab. He’d leaned down, giving us all an eyeful of that firm ass and a strip of tanned skin at his waist, and spoken with the driver for a few minutes before straightening and coming back to me.
When I asked what he’d been doing, he almost seemed embarrassed but had still told me that he’d given the cabbie some incentive to make sure the two women arrived at their apartment safely. Naturally, I asked how he’d know if the guy followed through on his promise, and the look he’d given me said it all. Alix was a man who was accustomed to people doing what he asked – or what he ordered.
As I walked into the studio, my stomach twisted into knots, only easing when Alix appeared, his expression showing a strange sort of relief, as if he’d been afraid I wouldn’t show.
“I have your contracts for you,” he said, gesturing toward the table. “You can sign both or just one.” He gave me a lopsided smile that spoke volumes about how uncertain he was. “I’m just hoping you’re not here to tell me to shove both jobs.”
“I’m not,” I promised, meeting his eyes. “I’m planning to sign both.”
The statement surprised me more than it probably should have. Until that very moment, I’d still been debating the merits of modeling for him.
After I signed and initialed all the places marked out in both contracts, he spoke again, “May I ask what it was that made your decision for you?”
“Last night, when you paid the cabbie to make sure those girls arrived home safely,” I answered honestly, “it reminded me of something my brothers would have done.”
He gave me an odd look. “So, you agreed to be my model because I remind you of your brothers?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Not exactly.” I leaned against the counter. “One of the reasons my family didn’t want me to come to the States was because they were afraid I wouldn’t have anyone to look out for me. I’m the baby in the family, and with one older sister and six older brothers, that’s an awful lot of looking out for.”
“If I had a sister, I can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same way.” His eyes didn’t meet mine though, and I wondered exactly what was going on in his head.
“I came here for school,” I continued, “so I was barely eighteen. Mam has cousins in the city, so that was the only reason she and Da didn’t raise more of a fuss, but after visiting them a few weekends, I decided it was better worth my time to work rather than going out to see them. They’d all been born here and had a much more American way about them.”
“I’m guessing that’s a bad thing.” He sounded amused.
I rolled my eyes. “I only mean that my parents had wanted me near family so I didn’t lose sight of where I come from, and my cousins didn’t exactly meet that standard.”
“I’m not following how this connects with what happened at the club.”
“I’m getting there. Don’t be getting your knickers in a twist.”
The teasing note in my voice had his eyebrows shooting up. Or maybe that had been my unintentional reference to his underwear. Either way, I liked that I’d surprised him.
I kept going with my story. “About two weeks after the last time I’d seen my cousins, I was working as a receptionist on the night shift at an office building downtown. One of them, Nigel, is a couple years older than me. He came by one night at the end of my shift, asked if I would get a cup of coffee with him. It was late, but Nigel and I had always gotten along, so I went. Turned out, he just wanted to borrow money. I didn’t have any, which I told him when we were standing outside at three in the morning. As soon as I said it, he hailed a cab. I walked to the subway.”
Alix’s hand curled into fists. “He left you alone at three in the morning while he took a taxi home?”
I shrugged. “He didn’t think of it as putting me in danger, I’m sure. He doesn’t have any sisters.”
Alix took a step toward me, eyes blazing. “I don’t give a damn if he has sisters or not. I’m an only child, and I would never leave a woman alone at night, especially one...” His voice trailed off.
I looked up at him, pulse taking off at a gallop. “Especially one what?”
His gaze locked with mine, and I could fairly feel the electricity between us. I wanted him to finish the sentence, but at the same time, I didn’t. If he said it was because I was like a little sister, or because he thought I was in more danger due to being a girl...
I wanted him to be angry because it was me. Because I was special to him.
He reached out, brushed the back of his hand down my cheek. “I’d never leave you alone like that.” He took a step back. “No decent man would leave someone stranded like that.”
I ran my hand through my curls and tried to get my thoughts back on solid ground. “Seeing you take the time and money to get two strangers home safely just confirmed what I already knew.”
“And what was that?” His voice was soft, but I couldn’t exactly call it gentle.
I didn’t trust myself to do anything more than glance at him as I answered, “That I could trust you to keep me safe.”
My hands were above my head, wrapped from elbows to wrists and attached to the chains hanging from the ceiling. The ribbons were purple, the exact same shade as the bra and panty set Alix had given me to change into. I hadn’t asked how he’d known my measurements. He was a photographer. And he’d had his hands on my body. I couldn’t forget that.
Not even if I tried.
He was kneeling behind me now, his hands on my ankles as he positioned my feet. At first, I’d been surprised that he hadn’t put me in heels, but then his fingers had trailed over my calf as he explained why he wanted me in my bare feet.
I couldn’t remember what he said, but it’d been something artistic.
“A little farther.” He nudged them apart. “Arch your back a bit more. One more set and we’ll call it a day.”
I nodded, trying not to shift my weight as he stood and moved back. I closed my eyes and ran through everything I needed to do tomorrow morning in an a
ttempt to distract myself from the fact that he was looking at my ass.
“Keep still.”
I felt him set something on the small of my back. It didn’t weigh much, but it wasn’t until the soft leather strips brushed against the tops of my thighs that I realized he’d carefully balanced a flogger on my back.
I let myself fall back into the quiet place where I waited for him to take the pictures he needed. It was a place where the discomfort in my body faded to the back of my mind, hidden under the heat of Alix’s gaze, under the sounds of him breathing, walking, under the clicks of his camera.
“Did you play sports back home?”
The personal question startled me, somehow more intimate than his prior touches. If it was all about the modeling, then it was easy to tell myself that he saw me only as a prop, an object in his photographs. Not in a bad way, but in a different way.
I heard his footsteps coming toward me, then the weight of the flogger vanished. His palm was hot as it slid over my ass and up my spine.
“You’re strong,” he continued. “I’ve photographed men and women both, all different body types and sizes. I haven’t only studied photography. I’ve taken several anatomy and biology courses, learning muscles and bones. Learning all about the body.”
“I was involved in gymnastics,” I said as he walked around in front of me, trying to ignore the way his hands felt on me. “And karate. I was always small, but I got into fights anyway. Da convinced Mam that if I was going to fight, I might as well know how to do it right.”
He reached up and touched something that released the chain. My arms fell, but he caught them, his fingers starting to work on the simple knots he’d used to bind me.
“I played football too.” I smiled as I straightened. “Soccer, I mean.”
His hands moved over my arms as the ribbons fell to the ground. The pins and needles feeling that rushed through my veins as my circulation returned to normal was hazy under the electricity of his touch.