by Anya Summers
Delia checked Grace’s vitals: her temperature, her pulse, and her broken limbs. “Grace did well in her physical therapy this morning. Did she tell you that?”
“No, she didn’t.” Sadie smiled at Grace. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. You’re doing so well.”
“Everything looks good. And I hear there’s talk about discharging her in a few days,” Delia said. “They should be bringing lunch here for Grace in a few minutes. Do you want me to order something for you?”
Sadie shook her head. She couldn’t eat right now if she tried. “I’m fine for now. Maybe at dinnertime, I could see about taking her down to the cafeteria to eat.”
“Oh, that would be nice. Let me see what I can do to set that up for you. Be nice to get you both out of the room.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Sadie replied.
Grace paid attention to the entire exchange and appeared excited by the prospect of an outing—one that didn’t lead to physical therapy or more tests. Then the cafeteria delivered her lunch: chicken nuggets, carrot sticks, applesauce, and teddy grahams, with both milk and apple juice for her to drink.
While Grace was eating, Sadie drew up her courage. “You know, Grace, I wanted to ask you something. When you are well enough and the doctors say it’s okay for you to leave the hospital, how would you like to come live with me?”
Grace’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Then her bottom lip wavered. Her dark eyes filled with moisture and it was clear she was trying not to cry. A tear slipped down her cheek and in a tiny, high-pitched voice, she said, “My mama gone.”
Oh sweet girl! She’d been so brave, but the thought of leaving this place was frightening. At least when Sadie had lost everyone, she’d had the capacity to understand, regardless of whether she had processed it well.
“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” Sadie went with her instincts. She climbed up beside Grace onto her hospital bed and, without jostling her broken limbs, slid her arm around her tiny shoulders and held her close.
Sobs wracked Grace’s tiny form. The little girl clung to Sadie, sobbing for her mama. Sadie couldn’t help the few tears that escaped her own eyes. She made a vow to herself and Grace that she would do her best to never let her down, to always be there for her.
Sadie comforted her, her heart breaking at the girl’s sobs, because she knew there was nothing she could ever do to make up for what Grace had lost. But she could try to give her a better hand than the shitty one she had been dealt. Than both of them had. They were going to have a lot of work to do, she was going to have a lot of work to do. But Sadie was up to the challenge. When Grace’s sobs turned into soft hiccups, she asked again, looking down at her tear-stained face.
“Grace, I know I’m not your mama. I can never replace her. But I would like to have you come live with me. I promise to do whatever I can to take care of you. Would you like that?”
Grace stared at her solemnly for a moment, digesting Sadie’s words. Grace didn’t smile, but she did nod. For now, that would be enough. It would have to be.
And they were back to gestures, with Grace keeping her mouth pressed together. Two steps forward, one back. They would have plenty of days like this. Then again, they were both a work in progress. Sadie gently squeezed Grace in a side hug. “I would like that too.”
Sadie stayed with Grace all day long. Before Grace went to sleep that night, Sadie promised to return the following day. “I have a few meetings in the morning that shouldn’t take too long. Then I’ll be here all day with you tomorrow. Hopefully, by then we can see how soon the doctors plan to release you and when we’ll be able to take you to your new home with me.”
It wasn’t until Sadie arrived home that night and noticed the missed calls from Ram that she broke down, even more than she had earlier in the day. She was inconsolable because the man had broken her heart. She wasn’t sure how she had let him come to mean so much to her, but he did. How could she have allowed herself to love him when he had never given her any indications that it was anything more than a casual lay for him? Because it had been one hell of a lot more than merely being trained in the lifestyle for her. A lot more.
She’d come alive with him, had given Ram pieces of herself—parts of her soul—which he had helped resurrect, that she didn’t think she would ever get back.
Sadie had no regrets with Ram, except that it was over. Because of him, she knew more about herself, had learned about facets within her being she had not known existed, with the most important revelation being that she needed to submit to truly be satisfied in the bedroom. That a session with a flogger or paddle did more to keep her from circling the drain into the darkened abyss of depression than all the multiple hours of therapy she’d undergone since the accident was a startling realization for Sadie. While her heart wasn’t in the right place to be with another Dom, she would attend the orientation meeting with Dante tomorrow.
Sadie was no longer going to apologize for what she needed. Even if deep within her heart, she knew she needed Ram not just because of the way he made love to her, but because she loved him.
And there was no cure for that.
Chapter 25
The next day, Sadie did her best to dress to impress. Considering the bulk of her wardrobe consisted of scrubs, scrubs, and more scrubs, it took some effort on her part. She settled on a pair of skinny jeans, a peasant blouse and sandals, then wrangled her hair into some semblance of order. With the heat and humidity, her hair had a mind of its own, which was why it ended up in a long braid down her back.
Her first meeting of the day was with Victoria at her office downtown, where she went over guardian forms, and different requirements that she had to uphold and meet. This included everything from the pre-school Sadie would enroll Grace in, to possibly one day living with a roommate or significant other, who would need to have their backgrounds checked.
Sadie basically signed her life away. It was a little like buying a house. When she’d finished with family services, she headed outside and caught a cab over to Club Underworld. One of the items she added to her agenda was to buy a car, because she couldn’t ask a three-year-old to take public transit all the time, not when she would need to get her to daycare and pre-school, and on and on.
Sadie loathed the idea of getting behind the wheel again. And perhaps she would fail and end up having to sell the car. But until she tried to conquer that fear, she would never know.
During the day, the outside of Club Underworld looked like a refurbished warehouse that might hold loft apartments. But inside, it had a dramatic, eye-opening design, with club flooring and brick walls.
Sadie tried the front door, pleasantly surprised when the steel door opened.
She walked inside. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust after the glaring sunlight. At this time of day, the club, which was normally packed to the gills, was empty, save for a man sitting at the wall bar on one of the stools. To the casual observer, he appeared calm and relaxed, all while exuding testosterone in large doses.
He cocked his head to the side, his eyes missing nothing of her appearance. “You must be Sadie Montgomery. I’m Dante, one of the owners.”
He held out his rather large hand, the fingers long. His hair was black as midnight—long enough for an enterprising woman to slide her hand through—and artfully arranged to appear disheveled. His intense eyes were molten dark chocolate, with dark upturned brows slashed above them. His mouth was full and sensual, his square jaw covered in perpetual dark stubble, and his skin darkly tanned. Inky black tattoos peeped out from the open neck of his navy dress shirt.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Sadie shook his hand. He might be sinfully gorgeous, but his touch did not send electrical currents shooting through her system.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he murmured with a sexy smile hovering on his lips. Sadie thought: damn, he’s good. She might not be getting the nuclear reactor meltdown that she did with Ram, but he was smooth.
He assessed her from head t
o toe, making her wonder what he saw.
“Um, I hate to ask, but could I have my hand back now?” She didn’t want to anger him, but it was starting to get a little weird—at least on her end.
He shifted, released her hand and steered her toward the elevator. “Certainly. Now, as you might have guessed from your previous visits, the first floor is open to the general public. We tend to get a lot of tourists who want to take a walk on the wild side and those who like to dabble in the lifestyle.”
“I gathered that. But I don’t think I’m a dabbler. I think it’s something I’ve always needed and never knew until recently.”
He gave her a warm glance. “It happens. Our society tends to view pleasure and anything that is outside what is considered the norm with disdain, making it difficult for people to explore what their needs are in a safe environment. That’s one of the first tenets we have for every scene: that it is safe, sane, and consensual.”
He ushered her onto the elevator and took her up to the second floor. He showed her each of the scene stations, explaining what the furniture was and how it would most likely be used in a scene. She felt a little awkward discussing sexy stuff with a virtual stranger whereas he didn’t bat an eye while he was describing everything.
“We keep everyone to a three drink maximum. While drinking can help loosen people up, if people over-imbibe, things could go wrong in a scene. So we have this rule in place as it helps a Dom maintain control of the scene without impaired judgment which could lead to him inflicting unintentional harm on the sub.”
“But what if someone had a drink or two before they came and then had more? What would you do?” She only asked because if she was going to potentially scene with a Dom she didn’t know to get the relief she needed, she needed to understand she could trust them.
“A sub would be disciplined and given a two-week suspension for the first infraction.”
“And if it was a Dom?” she asked, curious.
“A Dom would be given a one-month suspension and then, for the next six months, would be required to take a breathalyzer test any time they came here. If there was any alcohol present in the reading, they would be given a three-month suspension and required to be sober during that time. Quinten would supply us with the equipment needed in that case. Any infractions after that would result in the Dom losing their membership and being banned from the club.”
“Good to know that you take it seriously.” Because if I’m going to do this, it will be with a Dom I don’t know.
“We never squelch on safety. In fact, we’re big into safety around here. Too much could go wrong that could have lasting implications.”
“And most of them end up in my hospital ward,” Sadie muttered.
He grinned. “Sorry?”
“I’m a nurse over at Saint Mary’s Hospital in the ICU. Or, I was. I just put in my notice and will be working for a general practitioner in about three weeks, he’s a member here as well. Luc Beauchamp.”
“Ah, so you’ve seen it all. Luc’s a great doctor. I’m sure you will enjoy working with him.”
She nodded. “More than you know.”
When they’d finished on the second floor, he took her up to the third floor and explained that each of the founding members had their own private room. The other rooms were available for the members to rent for the night. He showed her a few of the rooms that were not claimed by the founding members. Her heart clenched when they passed Ram’s.
When they’d made a full circle and wound up back at the elevators, he asked, “Any questions?”
“Actually, one. You said all of the founding members have private rooms here, and yet you don’t have one.”
“Smart and beautiful. I think I’m going to like you.” Dante’s lips curled in a seductive smirk.
She couldn’t help the blush as it spread over her cheeks. She had over two hundred pounds of solid male muscle just oozing testosterone right in front of her. She might be heart sore over Ram, but she wasn’t dead. After the tour of the third floor, Dante had them ride the elevator again up to the fourth floor. It held all the offices, and meeting rooms for the Doms to vote on things. But Dante led her to his office.
Inside, the room was richly furnished in masculine dark wood and the walls were bordello red. The guy knew how to play up his features, she would give him that. Dressed in black with the red behind him, he was smoking hot.
He sat beside her at the desk, handing her forms. It was the second time that morning she signed her life away.
“This form is where you need to mark what your hard limits are, the things that are hard nos for you. If there are any you are unsure about, just put don’t know. Know that in doing so, a Dom may approach you about potentially doing a scene with that in it. But you reserve the right to decline. Your information will be uploaded into our database for Doms to peruse. That way, they will already have an idea of what you like before approaching you. On the second Tuesday of every month, we have a meeting for all the club submissives. It is mandatory. If you can’t attend because of work or family life, you need to make arrangements to meet with me to go over what was in the meeting. Once we get your data inputted, we have an online group for the submissives to chat with each other. Have you had a chance to read through the guidelines Quinten provided you the other day?”
“Some. Not all.”
“Do you have any questions about our rules for submissives?” Dante asked, studying her intently.
“I don’t know. If I do, I haven’t thought of it yet. I’m sorry, I’m just so new to this and it’s a little overwhelming. All these rules, just to have a guy spank me.”
Dante barked a laugh. “The rules are in place so that they only spank you and don’t, say, do needle play. Any unattached sub who hasn’t been claimed by a Dom or who isn’t already engaged with another Dom, can be approached by any of the Doms for a scene, or a more private interaction in the rooms on the third floor.”
“But does a sub always have to say yes? Does a submissive have no say so in who they are with?” Because as much as she needed the lifestyle, if it was a free for all, Sadie was iffy on the whole thing.
“Yes and no. In the beginning, whoever is the DM for the night will watch over you as if they were your Dom, and give another permission to do a scene with you. The DM will ask your preferences and will know your hard limits. So they will take what you want into consideration. However, if you are misbehaving and need to be disciplined, they will also have that power over you—to mete out your punishment as well.”
“Okay. Is there a way I can attend one night and just watch to see how everything goes? I just tend to get a lot of anxiety when I don’t know what I’m walking into, and it could trigger a PTSD episode. I might need a few times even before I feel comfortable enough to be thrown into the lion’s den,” she explained, hating that she had to talk about her PTSD at all. People tended to give her the side eye, like she was ready for a padded cell.
Dante’s dark chocolate gaze studied her. “PTSD? You’re a vet?”
Sadie sighed. Bringing up her past was her least favorite thing to do. “No. It stems from a car accident that killed my parents and husband. I survived, and they didn’t.”
“I see.” Dante softened visibly, looking at her with what she could only describe as pity.
“Am I going to be disqualified to be a member now?” Then she would have a panic attack. She needed the lifestyle even if Ram wasn’t a part of her future.
He shook his head. “No. You’re not going to be disqualified. But it is something that we need to know. I’m glad you told me. It means our approach with you will be different. I know the rest of the founders won’t have an issue bending the rules a bit to accommodate. I want you to attend three times while I’m working as DM. This Saturday, next Wednesday, and next Saturday again.”
She would be here with him, as her Dom for the night. But that meant… Nothing like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. “Okay, so does that me
an that you and I will… I mean…”
He flashed her a sexy grin. “If I’m very lucky, it will mean that. But no, to answer your question, I’m not going to pressure you, nor will any of the other Doms. It’s so that you can see how things run without the added pressure of needing to be in a scene. As long as you are open and honest with us about your needs, including if and when you feel an attack coming on, we will endeavor to help you. I want you here at seven this Saturday.”
“Okay. That shouldn’t be an issue. I will have to find a babysitter for the other nights.” It was something she hadn’t even begun to consider she would need yet. She tried mentally going through all the people she knew in New Orleans who could potentially watch a three-year-old, and felt marginally under-prepared for her impending mommyhood.
“You have a kid?” Dante asked with a curious glint.
“Sort of. I just signed the paperwork this morning to foster a little girl who lost her whole family a few weeks back. She’s in the hospital for her injuries but she’s going to be discharged on Monday. It’s fine, I will find a sitter for those nights. I’m just new to the whole parenting gig.”
“Well, you’re certainly trying a lot of new things, aren’t you?”
“Grace needs me. And I think I need her too. I would hope, if I did have a kid and something happened to me, that someone would look out for them.”
Dante stared for a moment, and she noticed a heated possessiveness enter his gaze. “Might not let any of the other Doms touch you but me and Michael.”
“Two of you? At the same time?” She cocked her head, trying to picture more than one man pleasuring her, and wanted to fan her face at the imagery her brain cooked up. She’d already had Ram reduce her to a quivering limp noodle on every occasion. Having two dominant alphas pleasuring her, would almost be too much.
His expression turned downright wicked and his voice took on a husky, seductive tone. “Yep. Why, you interested?”
Yes. But not with him. Dammit. She should be. The man was sin personified. The problem was, when she was picturing having two men pleasure her, it had been Ram her stupid brain had conjured up. But as it stood, Ram was out of her life, so maybe. Maybe a decadent night of ecstasy like that would be exactly what she needed to expel him from her system for good. “Let me get back to you on that. What should I wear Saturday night? I know in the manual it mentioned a dress code.”