Paige wrote down a few titles to look up later and kept walking, not entirely sure where she was headed. She found herself standing in front of a vendor booth with the most beautiful wooden bench apparatus she’d ever seen.
“Aubrey should have been here an hour ago. What am I supposed to do for a model now?” A leather-clad dominant, his fair skin magnified by his dark hair and inky eyes, stood frowning in front of an artfully crafted wooden bench. His stance emphasized the force of his thighs and the slimness of his hips. Despite herself, Paige's breath quickened.
Her cat yowled her appreciation and a twinge of something sparked deep inside of her. He felt…familiar. But how could that be if they had never met?
A light-haired man walked from behind the counter, his well-muscled body moving with easy grace. There were hints of amusement around his mouth and laughter crinkles around his eyes.
“Tyler, don't worry.” He clasped the other man's arm. “Look, I'm sure something must have happened. Aubrey isn't usually late like this. We can see if someone from the audience will volunteer to help out until she gets here, okay?”
Tyler frowned, shrugging in resignation. “Who did you have in mind?” His dark eyes scanned the area and rested on Paige.
“You. Come here.”
Paige swallowed, panic settling in. “No, I'm not really here. I'm looking for my friend...”
“She is just about the right build.” The light-haired man thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “I might have something that would fit her.”
Tyler’s eyes glittered, mesmerizing Paige. His lips turned up in a smile as intimate as a kiss. “My name is Master Blackburn. Would you like to be our sub for an afternoon?”
“I, um. Wait,” Paige stammered, her gaze sweeping down her more than adequate curves. The very same ones her mother assured her would make it hard to find a husband or mate that would accept her as anything else but a political match. “I’m not sure I’m your type, sir. I’m not exactly model material.”
“On the contrary. You are more than perfect…”
“Well…”
The blond dominant smiled. “You are, actually. I’m Ross. We seem to be missing a sub for today's spanking demonstration, and we would very much appreciate the pleasure of your company for the afternoon.”
Paige had wanted to check some things now that she was here, but this was a little sudden. Still, it intrigued her. Spanking? She’d read about it, sure. But were they actually going to, like, spank her? The idea of it brought the pulse skimming a little faster in her veins.
“What would I have to do?”
“Well, to address your earlier question, you would need a change of attire, but we can handle that. You’re just about Aubrey's size, as a matter of fact, and would look stunning with a bit of a freshening up.”
She was?
Paige blinked.
Did that mean they didn’t think she was fat?
Ross held up his hand and turned back to the booth. “Hold on a minute. I may have something.”
Master Blackburn kept his full attention on Paige.
“You're here with your friend?”
Paige flushed, unsure whether she should tell him the truth. “I was supposed to meet her but she bailed on me at the last minute.”
“That’s a shame. Had you made any plans while you were here?”
“Not really. I got distracted by your lovely spanking bench over here.”
“It is a beautiful piece, isn't it? Ross and I make them all by hand.” Master Blackburn ran his hand over the bench's maroon leather.
“Here we go!” Ross returned carrying a leather corset and matching mini shorts, a crinoline skirt, fishnet stockings, and patent leather knee-length boots, all in black.
Paige stared. They were gorgeous and appeared to be her size. “Oh, wow.”
“I know. Aubrey is our seamstress as well.” Ross grinned. “Have you ever heard of Gothique Corsetry?”
“I've run across the site doing my research.” Her stuff was amazing.
Ross handed her the hangers. “The display starts in forty minutes. Can you slip into one of these and pose on the bench? Master Blackburn can do some light paddling, but nothing you aren't comfortable with.”
Paige bit her lip and looked at the time. It was getting late. Knowing her mother, she would be looking for her soon, but she was dying to try this. Her eyes moved longingly over the costumes in her hand and she nodded, resolute. “If one of them fits, I'm yours. How long do you think you'll need me?”
“I got a text from Aubrey while I was in the back with the costumes. It shouldn't be more than an hour. She got stuck in traffic.” Ross replied.
Only an hour. Perfect. She could get home in time for dinner and nobody had to know anything. “Where do I change?”
They led her back to a small closed-off room with a door. Paige kicked off her shoes and shucked her jeans in a hot minute. Her tee shirt was next.
Which costume to wear? She had always wanted to try on a corset, but she would need help. Now that was a delicious possibility. She pulled on the thigh-high fishnet stockings. Sliding on the micro shorts, she turned to admire her backside. It was edgy with the garter-belt tabs showing beneath the shorts, but she liked it.
Paige pulled out the band holding up her hair, letting the dark curls slide down her back. Much better. She held up the leather corset and sighed. Pressing it against her chest, she craned her head out into the front of the booth.
“Can one of you lend a hand?” She batted her eyelashes. “I can't get this fastened by myself.”
At her interruption, they stopped talking and stared, slack-jawed. Ross grinned and poked Master Blackburn in the side.
“Why don't you go and assist the lady?”
Paige turned bright red, and Master Blackburn joined her in the changing room.
“What would you like me to do?”
“Um, have you ever tied a corset before?”
“I have indeed.”
Master Blackburn's hands wandered down Paige's back, his fingers warm as he fastened the stays and tightened the corset. In the mirror, Paige noted the bulge in his leathers and couldn’t help but think this was the stuff of her naughtiest fantasies.
Things like this never happened to girls like her. All of her sexual escapades had been through the pages of her smutty books, plus one or two dates with guys her mother set her up with who needed a road map to get from point A to point B. Or at least they would have if she let them.
She would bet a salted caramel mocha that Master Blackburn knew what to do with his hands. The corset cinched tighter, and Paige gasped.
“Are you all right?”
Paige laughed. “Yes. I was thinking about something and you surprised me.”
“What about?” He pulled another clasp closed, and Paige leaned forward on the stool. The mirror reflected her cleavage as it swelled over the corset. She met his eyes in the mirror and quickly looked away.
“How do you choose your subs?” Paige blushed, staring down at the pattern the fishnets made on her legs. She was going to have to get some. They were sexy beyond belief.
I can't believe I just asked him that!
Master Blackburn ran a finger down the fastenings and met her startled expression with a warm smile. “That, my dear, is a very leading question.”
Paige blushed again. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.”
“No. That's not what I meant at all.” He patted her back and turned her around to face him. “I choose my subs carefully. There has to be trust there. And chemistry.”
Paige swallowed. He was standing so close she could feel the heat from his body. “Oh.” His masculine scent filled her nostrils. “Do you have a sub now?”
Master Blackburn smiled. “No.” He tipped her chin upward, looking into her eyes. “Are you applying for the position? And here we’ve only just met.”
Paige swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. He was daring her. The bastard thought she was too afrai
d.
“What if I was?”
“Now that would be intriguing.” He bent down and captured her lips with his, a feather-light touch of intimate perusal. He drew back and wound a hand in her hair, pulling her closer. “Do you understand what that would mean? To be a submissive?” His eyes bored into hers, his breath teasing her lips, oh so close. She strained to meet his lips and he yanked back on her hair. “No. Answer the question.”
The sting brought a gasp from her and a surge of fluid to her moist folds. Outrage and shock warred with arousal. “I think so.” Paige blinked moisture from her eyes, annoyed that it had stung, but equally surprised at her body's response. The pain had excited her more than she thought it would have.
“Are you sure?” Master Blackburn stood back, releasing his grip on her hair. “I live the lifestyle, and there are many who think they know, but at the first hint of not being in control, they run for the hills back to their vanilla lives.” He pulled her face inches from his own. “I can't help but wonder...”
“What?” Paige cocked her head.
“What flavor are you?” He brushed his lips to hers as he pulled her close long enough to crush her breasts against his chest.
Paige thought about the lonely nights dealing with her family and politics, and decided she wanted more. Her lips sought his again, filled with a burning hunger. She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. He tasted of cinnamon and honey, and she wanted to lick him all over. Glancing down at the bulge trying to push its way out of the leathers, she smiled.
“Salted caramel mocha.” Her lips met his once more, and she pressed her lush curves against the hard lines of his muscled frame.
“What?”
“You asked me what flavor I was.”
Master Blackburn chuckled. “I'll just bet you are.” He gripped her shoulders in his powerful hands, holding her at arm’s length. “How long have you been into the lifestyle?”
Paige lowered her eyes. “I only just started.”
“I see.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You don't have any experience?”
Warmth crept up Paige's neck and spread across her cheeks. “No,” she whispered. “But I’d really like to.”
“Have you ever been spanked?”
“No.” Paige stepped out of his embrace and turned back to the mirror. She was completely unrecognizable as herself, and she liked it that way. She didn't want her only experiences to be from the pages of a book. She wanted to feel his hands on her. The thought of just going home to her empty life left her cold. But the idea of going out in public dressed like this scared her to death.
His eyes watched hers from the glass. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can wait for Aubrey.”
“No!” she sputtered. “I do want to. It's just...well, look.” She pointed to the crowd beginning to gather in front of the spanking bench. “All those people out there. How do you do it?”
“Some people like to be watched. It adds to the excitement.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Master Blackburn folded his arms and grinned. “Would you rather be anonymous? That could be arranged.”
Paige lowered her eyes. “I think that might help.”
“Here. Try this.” He reached into a bag next to the changing table and pulled out a simple black mask. “No one will know it's you.”
Chapter One
“A re you sure there isn’t a category in your questionnaire for introverted bat shifters?” The bespectacled, middle-aged woman peered down her nose at Paige and resumed picking at the over large scab on her arm.
Her cat recoiled beneath her skin, pacing in agitation. She didn’t like this client any more than she did.
“Ummm. No. That, surprisingly, is not on our form.”
Oh God.
She really needed to screen these people better.
The woman was just…odd.
Her question shouldn’t have surprised Paige. On the form her favorite hobbies were hanging upside down in her family’s garage during the day and dancing around lamp posts at night.
Wow. A real live bat girl.
A shame she wasn’t more styling.
Her eyebrows needed threading and the hair on her upper lip just screamed for a bleaching. And those clothes. She hadn’t seen anything like those pants since she checked out a vintage style store when she was a teenager—and they weren’t in the cool section either. Not even close.
Maude’s frumpy attire would have been perfect on a woman twice her age and living on a farm in the middle of nowhere, but the fact that she stubbornly refused to let Paige help her spruce up her image or assist her in getting contact lenses was about to make her crazy. How could she find a mate for her if she didn’t at least make an effort?
“Do you think you could add it? That might be helpful in placing me.”
The entire time the woman had been sitting across from Paige, she’d been worrying over the scab to the point where it had begun to bleed.
Ugh. Gross.
Paige wanted to look away but found she couldn’t. She almost mentioned the value of a tetanus shot, but one warning glance from her partner, Sylvia, and she clamped her mouth shut.
It took her a second to remember Maude had asked Paige a question. Something about adding to her file…
“Probably not. But if I come across anything that fits the criteria we’ll be in touch. Um. Do you want a band aid for that?”
Or maybe some restraints?
Paige shuddered at that image, pressing on with the conversation. Imaging the woman stretched out across a spanking bench was just a little out of the realm of her stomach contents. Like ever.
“Oh. Yes. Thank you. I cut myself and it’s still bothering me.”
“I can see that. Here…” Paige reached into her desk and pulled out a first aid kit. She set it down and pulled out an adhesive strip, plopping it down in front of the other woman. Most of her clients eccentricities she didn’t mind, but this one…oh she was a handful. The woman had more nervous ticks than anyone she’d ever met, and each and every person she’d introduced her to had been flat out rejected in minutes.
In the five months since she’d walked into Shifting Heart’s Dating Agency, Maude had been giving Paige a run for her money. She kept trying to foist her off on little miss love goddess across the room, but Sylvia was being remarkably stubborn, even for her.
First, there was the party at the delicatessen down the street. There, three of their new male shifter clients connected over bagels and lox and now lived together in a happy ménage style relationship. They extended the offer to the bat shifter, but Maude had sniffed in disapproval. She held her nose in the air at their bliss, demanding something a little more conservative.
Fine.
So Paige set her up for a hay ride and night out at a local festival, only for Maude to come roaring back saying the horse frightened her and that there were too many mosquitoes.
Unreal. The woman was a bat for crap’s sake. Didn’t they eat mosquitoes or something? Whatever. Month after month it had been the same thing. Spaghetti night at the church: too religious. Bingo night at the town rec center: too old. And now, here they were with a failed pizza meet and greet at Star Pizza and she was honestly running out of options.
She closed her eyes and thought of one of their best success stories. Natalie, one of their latest clients had hit it off at Ventures, the local BDSM club and one of Paige’s personal haunts. Funny how things worked. And why couldn’t she catch a break with this one?
Paige had only gone to make a connection for the business, but one look at the spanking benches and the hunky Masters and she fell in love. Well…and so had Natalie. Now she was married and expecting her first pup.
A lengthy conversation with the woman who ran the Shibari class and Paige was seduced on the spot. What was it about cats and rope? Or yarn? Her animal purred in anticipation at what might be in store, the urge to find a mate of her
own strumming through her veins.
Dimly, she heard her client prattling on and on about the last failed date and let herself think of Ventures.
Hell, she didn’t know, but one look at what the other woman had done with a bunch of nylon rope and one of the sexiest male subs she’d ever laid eyes on and her heart stuttered.
Somehow she missed the Ventures newsletter in all of her email. Scanning it quickly, she signed up without even thinking twice and hit send before Sylvia could poke her nosy nose in her business.
Damned Goddess…
Then there were the spanking benches.
She’d come back to work on several occasions with her ass warmed enough so it hurt to sit down. Delicious was what it was. She loved her curves and it so happened that the Doms she ran into liked them, too. Rumor had it they were about to have a fundraising event for victims of local Hexen attacks. If they were, she was going to pledge a donation. Bully tactics just pissed her off and this latest bout of witch on shifter violence was getting old.
Jonathan and Lucas ran the place like a machine and their assistant was a drill sergeant if she ever met one. A thought passed her mind of what and who it would take for that woman to melt the fortress she’d built around herself—but that wasn’t the challenge at hand. The woman across from her was.
Maybe she was going to have to resort to checking for more bat shifters in the local area and seeing if there was some kind of gathering spot. She was good at outreach and this client was going to need some special help. Either that, or she was going to have to endure her endless scab picking for the foreseeable future.
At the very least, she was going to have to fumigate her chair on the off chance the woman had fleas.
Kitten Around (Shifting Hearts Dating Agency Book 3) Page 2