The guard watched them walk out without speaking.
In the black night, they walked silently down the sidewalk. The parking lot lights were haloed by the fog rolling in off the Gulf. Thunder boomed in the distance, echoing Ghost’s anger.
At his convertible, Wrecker opened the door. “The owner’s not going to put up with your crap, you self-righteous bastards. He can’t run this place without me.”
“Yada, yada, yada,” Saxon muttered.
“Leave and don’t come back.” Ghost shoved Wrecker into the car, then joined Saxon and Cullen on the sidewalk.
After glaring at them through the windshield, Wrecker sped from the parking lot.
“You know,” Saxon grumbled, “I really wanted to hit him a couple of times.”
“This was better.” Ghost headed back up the sidewalk. “Cullen, I know Z’s overseas, but can you call him to make the firing official? He’ll want to change the locks and security codes.”
No matter what Wrecker thought, Ghost hadn’t a doubt Z would want the bastard gone.
“Guess you hadn’t heard—Z and family arrived home a few hours ago. It was getting close to the cut-off date for Jessica being able to fly.” Cullen scowled. “And why is it me drafted to tell an overprotective, jetlagged shrink how his manager was preying on teens?”
Ghost’s lips twitched. “Seems like that kind of heartening news should come from an old friend, don’t you think, Saxon?”
Saxon grinned. “Absolutely.”
“Assholes.” Cullen pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He’s going to blow his stack over this mess.”
Knowing Z, Ghost had to agree.
Stepping inside, Saxon stopped, gaze on the security guard. “Seems like those youngsters should’ve been stopped here before setting foot in the club.”
“You’re right.” Anger rising again, Ghost fixed the guard with a stare. “You’re fired. Clear out. The owner will be in touch if you have any wages due…or maybe to discuss charges for ignoring the law about the age of entry.”
The guard rose. “You can’t—”
“Bet?” Ghost asked softly and took a step forward.
“Shit. Fucking shit.” The guard sidled toward the exit. “I just did what Wrecker said. But I’m gone, no problem. I don’t want no fighting.”
The door closed behind him.
Saxon slapped Ghost on the shoulder. “Bet you terrorized your poor troops.
“My operators would have eaten him and Wrecker for breakfast.” Yeah, there were days he really missed his SF comrades.
“Yeah, I’ll call back in half an hour,” Cullen said into the phone, tucked it into his pocket, then frowned at Ghost. “What about a guard for tonight?”
Ghost settled into the guard’s chair. “I’ll hold it down for now. If one of you can relieve me in a bit, I have a pretty submissive who might never return after seeing the dark side of the lifestyle.”
“Valerie, hmm?” Cullen nodded. “She’s got a way about her. If those girls had been small enough to climb in her lap, they would have.”
He understood. The woman simply radiated serenity. Being with her was like experiencing those rare early mornings in Baghdad when there was silence—no shouting, no shooting, no explosions—only a sunrise and the chirping of birds. When a man could remember what peace meant.
“We can be grateful she found them,” Ghost said. “And was able to reassure them enough they’d talk to us.”
“She sounds like good people,” Saxon said.
As the two Doms headed back into the club, Ghost leaned back in the chair.
The manager would be fired. They’d need a new guard. Even worse, there was a problem with the actual atmosphere of the club. Like those three Doms who’d been trying to intimidate a submissive. That should never happen in the Shadowlands.
Guilt swept through Ghost. He’d let the club down. Sure, he’d been buried because of the extra university class and the new prosthesis he’d been testing requiring fittings and formal evaluations. Yes, he’d been busy.
But his presence—any Masters’ presence—might have kept Wrecker somewhat in check. They’d fucked up, all of them. Had let Z and the Shadowlands down.
Chapter Six
Since Valerie doubted she’d ever return to the Shadowlands, she decided to make the most of the night. She smiled at Josie who was waiting for her order. “I don’t think alcohol in here would be wise for me, since I’m still learning my limits.”
Josie tilted her head. “Now, you have me curious. Learning your limits?”
“In a way. My ex’s parents were alcoholics. After a couple of blackouts, we realized the dangers, and he stopped drinking at all. I did, too, to keep him from being tempted.”
And then, despite Valerie’s protests, Kahlua had brought in beer and hard alcohol—and Barry had given in.
Josie’s gaze dropped to Valerie’s ringless hands. “Divorced?”
“Recently.” The dent left by her wedding ring had gradually disappeared over the winter. Her thumb still searched for the metal band now and then. “Afterward, I fell prey to the enticement of strawberry daiquiris—and regretted it. My tolerance isn’t what it was.”
“You’re not the first person I’ve heard complain about losing their tolerance.” Josie started mixing a drink.
“Good to know.” Valerie waved toward the room. “So, instead of drinking, I’ll—”
“Wait.” Josie emptied the blenderized drink into a glass. “Why don’t you enjoy this while you stroll around. It’s a strawberry daiquiri without the alcohol.”
Valerie sampled it. Thick and sweet, and filled with crushed strawberries. “Wow. It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
“Have fun.”
Sipping her drink, Valerie headed for the back, figuring she’d see everything and work her way forward again.
Most of the people she passed were friendly, and a few Dominants came close enough to read Ghost’s name on her supervisory collar.
One extremely handsome Dom with a long scar down his face checked the collar. “Ghost, hmm? Good choice.”
“Um, thank you?”
Chuckling, he moved on…and she realized he had a gold band on his arm. Another Master.
As she was watching a flogging scene—and wincing at the welts the Dom was inflicting on the poor woman’s back—someone joined her.
“Hi, there.” The Dom was tall, thin, and wearing a black shirt.
“Well, hi.” She smiled, slightly startled at being approached. But this was why she was here, after all.
“You look like you’re new. Are you enjoying the club?”
“Yes. Everyone seems very friendly.” Why was it so much harder to talk to a man than to chat with her students?
“We are, really. Are you interested in participating at all tonight?”
Went right to the point, didn’t he? But he seemed pleasant rather than pushy. And wasn’t it splendid she’d attracted someone’s interest? In fact, he was the second one who’d asked her.
Unfortunately, as with the first man, she wasn’t interested. After Ghost, they all seemed rather bland. There was no…sizzle.
“Not tonight but thank you. Really.” Because, maybe…once she stopped reacting to being around Ghost, she might be interested. Maybe. “But I do have to be going.” She gave him her best smile, left her glass on a table, and headed for the exit.
Disappointment slowed her feet. After her hopes for sexy times, the evening had been rather a letdown. Time to go home to her cozy apartment and a good book.
Near the front, Natalia was also heading out.
Valerie waved at the short Hispanic woman. “Thanks for the help with rounding up Ghost. Did you find someone fun to play with?”
“Sure, I did. There are a couple of Tops who think I’m cute, and one gave me a nice flogging.” From her unexcited expression, the scene hadn’t been particularly rewarding.
In the brighter light by the door, Valerie noticed Natalia had used nipp
le clamps with silvery chains to lace her black sleeveless crop top to her cheeky panties. The crop top displayed: PUNISH ME with a paddle below it. “I love your outfit…and the print design.”
“Thank you.” Natalia grinned. “I’m kinda quiet, and this way, Dommes have something to…you know, start a conversation?”
“It’s a great idea.” Would it be a good way to find men who were interested in spankings? “I especially like that somehow you found a cute top instead of a baggy T-shirt.”
“I know, right? I print my own with special ink.” Natalia tugged at her shirt. “Actually, I started selling some for extra money.”
Perfect. “We totally need to talk. I’d love one.”
“Really?” Natalia bounced on her toes. “I can bring in a list of designs and prices next time.”
Valerie winced. “I…I’m not sure I’ll be back. But I’ll walk you out, and we can talk.”
The way she’d reacted to the interested Doms had affirmed her decision to not join the club. The dues were high, even if the people were welcoming. Well, most of the people. After all, her ex and his slave were members…as was Scott who was manager.
“Valerie.” The deep rough voice halted her in her tracks. Ghost. He strode toward her, a bag slung over his shoulder.
“Oh, hi.” She flushed.
Natalia grinned. “You know, I really think you’ll be back. Catch you next time.” With a wave, she continued out the door.
“Um. I was just leaving.” Valerie swallowed.
“Were you?” He studied her, then moved closer and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Merely a small casual touch, but intensely intimate when all his attention was focused on her. “I can see you haven’t had a scene with anyone.”
How would he know?
Then again… She remembered how messy and red-faced she’d been after he’d spanked her. “Well, no. But everyone was nice.”
His mouth curved slightly. “I don’t think you’re looking for nice, lass. Come with me.”
Tingles of excitement raced across her senses as he led her to a couch, set his bag down, and sat beside her. “Normally, with a new member, a Dom would be able to pull up her file.”
At her horrified stare, he grinned. “Those files don’t include private data like addresses or phone numbers, no more than information about medical problems and a soft-and-hard limits list. Information about what you like or want to try—or never want to do. It’s a place to start when negotiating a scene.”
“Oh.” She stared at her lap, unsure what to say.
“With you, we’ll start from scratch.” His hand closed over hers, warm and strong. “I know you like being spanked. Are you interested in doing a scene where we’d take it a bit further?”
How could she possibly explain to him her liking for pain depended on—
“Hmm.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “There’s usually only one thing that turns a submissive this color of red. You get aroused by pain and want to explore it as well?”
Her mouth dropped open, and she sputtered. “How can you just say such things?”
His deep, masculine chuckle resonated in her bones. “Between the military and the lifestyle, I don’t have much modesty left. Although I don’t mind handing out pain alone, I prefer when sex and pain are inextricably combined. Are you open to having that kind of experience with me?”
Oh, she did love intelligent men who could say words like inextricably. “Um. Yes. Yes, I am.”
“In that case… Since we don’t know each other well, how about sticking to the basics for a first scene? Maybe an erotic spanking where I can strip you down and use my fingers. Fingers only, and we’ll go to what’s known as third base.”
She laughed and relaxed, even though the room was growing steadily warmer. “That sounds like it’s something I’d enjoy more than you would.”
“This time, you will.” He tilted her chin up, his gaze level. “If things continue, rest assured I will take my pleasure when the time comes.”
The sheer self-confidence in his tone made her shiver.
“Any triggers or fears or injuries I should be aware of? Any blood-thinning meds?”
“No.”
“Do you like being restrained?”
Her breathing caught, and deep inside, the quivery anticipation heightened. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Have you ever had a problem with being tied up?”
“No. It’s only been a couple of times and only my arms.”
“Excellent. I can see we’ll have some new experiences for you.” As he ran his hand down her arm, his gaze stayed on her face. “Since we don’t know each other well, you can choose whether to play in public or private. Some people feel safer down here where there are people, but others, especially when new, don’t like getting off in public. The rooms upstairs are private, but monitored, so if you shouted the safeword, ‘Red’, a DM would come running. If we use an upstairs room, I won’t use any restraints you can’t get out of with a bit of work.”
The way he carefully considered her fears and laid out her choices was amazing. Wonderful.
So…private or public. She considered the nearest scene area and thought about being touched intimately where people could see. Thought about possibly being seen by Barry or Kahlua. “Private.”
He curled his fingers around hers. “All right then.”
She tensed, expecting him to rise and pull her toward the stairs.
Instead, he just…studied her. After a few seconds, he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Lean forward for me, please.”
Frowning, she obeyed.
“Put your arms behind you with wrists crossed above your ass.”
“But—”
At the slight tilt of his chin, she followed his directions.
When she looked at him, he slowly pressed her shoulders back against the couch cushions until she was leaning against her arms. It was a type of unbound restraint, she realized.
“As it happens, Professor, I’m not only a sadist, but also a Dom,” he said softly. “I’m quite pleased you’re submissive. Are you comfortable giving up control to me tonight?”
She was submissive. It was simply the truth. And the command in his voice reduced her to helpless jelly. “Yes.”
His finger ran over her cheek, leaving warmth behind it. “Did you learn any languages when you were in the Middle East?”
There was an odd detour. “Yes, a couple. I’m fluent in Arabic with some Persian-Farsi.”
“Well, then.” As his finger traced down her jawline, under her chin, down her neck, he asked her how she was feeling. In Arabic.
Filled with gutturals, the language was a warrior’s language. Spoken by the warrior who was watching her, it brought back a childhood spent in the souks—the marketplaces in Dubai, Riyadh, Muscat....
Her mouth dropped open, and she asked in English, “Where did you grow up?”
“South Dakota, actually.” He switched back to Arabic. “Special Forces soldiers are required to learn at least one language of interest, if not more.”
She stayed in Arabic. “Why?”
“Ah, of all the armed forces, we’re the ones who interact with a foreign country’s population the most, working with the locals and training their soldiers. Our medics help the sick and injured in the villages. It’s how I came to have a fondness for the food there.”
“I had no—” Shocked to realize her lacy bustier was halfway open, she tried to sit up. “What…?”
A crease appeared in his cheek, amusement in his eyes. With a hand between her breasts, he gently pushed her back. In English, he said, “We’re also good at multi-tasking.”
He leaned forward, kissing her slowly, his lips firm. His breath held a hint of mint. He cupped her chin, holding her as he took it deeper, coaxing her to respond to his slow invasion. Her bones melted like the snow in the first spring sun.
Lifting his head, his gaze held hers as his fingertips brushed the swell of her u
pper breasts.
Her nipples budded, and her body roused, making her far too aware of his hard face, his knowledgeable hands.
And how her arms were pinned behind her back.
Even as he nipped her jaw, his fingers were unhooking the rest of her bustier to expose her breasts. Only the shoulder straps kept it from falling off.
“What are you doing?”
“Aside from thoroughly enjoying myself?” His smile flashed white in the tanned face. “Before we go somewhere private, I want to see if you’re comfortable with my hands on you.” He cupped one breast, weighing it, molding it.
His palm was warm; his touch curled her toes.
“Comfortable isn’t the word I’d use,” she muttered.
She’d heard his quick laugh before, but now his laughter was open and hearty. Two people walking past paused and grinned.
He dropped another kiss on her lips before rising. Gripping her around the waist, he easily lifted her to her feet, even though she certainly wasn’t a lightweight. Under his shirt, his biceps bulged enough to strain the fabric.
After slinging his bag over his shoulder, he put his arm around her. As they walked, she started to fasten her bustier, and he put his hand over hers. “On a scale of one to ten, how uncomfortable will you be if it’s open? Ten is embarrassed enough to run.”
Such questions. Leave the bustier open? Her breasts sagged. Her stomach was certainly not lean and ridged.
Ten.
But there were lots of women here, all ages, all body types.
He was watching her, and the masculine appreciation in his gaze made her feel…beautiful.
So, maybe five?
Some of the people here were walking around completely naked. She’d only have her corset open. “Three, maybe?”
He ran his fingertips over her breast again. “Then leave it open. We’ll give the members a lovely treat. You have beautiful breasts.”
The compliment made her flush, and…almost…alleviated the embarrassment of walking past people and their gazes dropping to her chest.
To her surprise, only approval and pleasure showed in their expressions.
With his arm behind her, they climbed the spiral stairs to the second floor. A long hallway showed door after door, each with a tiny, shuttered window. Some had red lights glowing above the frame.
The Effing List Page 9