11

Y ou wouldn’t last a day as my submissive.

“What the fuck ever. I don’t need a babysitter or ride home. I won’t allow him to ruin the most amazing night of my life.”

Brynne stood up and almost tipped over. Her tights were still down at her knees. She hurried to pull them up and gasped as the material abraded her tender skin.

Ignoring the discomfort, she grabbed a slice of pizza and the Gatorade and rushed to get changed. She scarfed down the other piece and almost choked when she glimpsed herself in the mirror. Raccoon eyes stared back. Her face was pale, and her lips bare of any color. There was no time to repair the damage. She needed to get the fuck out of there.

As the taxi pulled away, the impact of the night hit her. She started giggling uncontrollably, which might have given way to tears, except she noticed the driver kept checking his rear view mirror. He thought she was daft. Her cell phone started buzzing the moment she turned it on. Jared had sent three messages, which she ignored. He would press her for details, but the conversation would have to wait until she’d processed everything. Her phone buzzed again, and it was a number she didn’t recognize.

Unknown: Where the hell are you?

Brynne: Who is this?

Unknown: Your boss. Where are you?

Brynne: In a taxi. Thanks for the pizza.

Unknown: I said I would take you home.

Brynne: Not necessary. I’m good. Thanks for the enlightening demonstration and the aftercare. Much appreciated. Good night, Boss.

Unknown: This conversation is not over.

Brynne: There isn’t anything else to say. I learned my lesson. You should be very pleased.

Unknown: I am not pleased. You disregarded my direction. Again.

Brynne: I was only thinking of you—the club needs you more than I do.

Unknown: You don’t decide what I need.

Brynne: OK, true. But in my vulnerable state, I might have tried to seduce you. It’s best that I saved us both from that embarrassment.

Unknown: Good submissives don’t seduce. They do as they are told.

Brynne: Whoever said I was good?

It was easy to be cheeky when he wasn’t in the same room. She could imagine his shock when he found her gone. God help her, she loved provoking him. Pushing his buttons was the only way to get him to drop his resting dick face and reveal some of his true self.

When the taxi driver pulled up to her flat, he asked if she was okay. She laughed and assured him that life was grand. Once inside, she made herself a tea and ran a bath with Epsom salts. She sank into the hot water and hissed at the sting. She would be tender for a few days, but it was worth it.

Brynne closed her eyes and smiled, feeling incredibly proud of herself. She had not only witnessed a private scene that shocked her to her core, but also survived a public spanking without using her safe word! Gage wasn’t willing to admit she was tough, but it didn’t matter. She had endured it and barely cried…well, not until the white-hot sting of the cane. That searing pain shocked her, but it soon gave way to a warmth that radiated straight to her core. The key to letting go was seeing Gage right beside her and knowing she was safe. Even if he didn’t like her, he took his duty seriously and wouldn’t allow any harm to come to her.

Reading about it or seeing it happen to someone else would never have given her the insight she now possessed. Being strapped down and helpless was so erotic. Those same tantalizing sensations assailed her during the scene with Mistress Patricia. She felt ashamed of these dark and disturbing desires. But that didn’t stop her from wanting to explore more. He’d opened a Pandora’s box of deviant thoughts, and there was no way to lock them back up. Maybe she needed someone to show her because she wanted to know everything.

She reached for her new vibrator. The clerk promised Mr. Boss was waterproof, and she hoped so because it had a job to do.

Three exhilarating orgasms later, Brynne was certain she had exorcised Gage. For the moment. She donned her pink flannel nightdress, crawled under the covers, and fell immediately to sleep.

The jarring ring of her cell phone woke her the next morning. It wasn’t on the bedside table, so where did she leave it? She stumbled bleary-eyed into the bathroom to pee and found it on the edge of the sink. The missed call from Aunt Josie brought on a wave of guilt. It had been more than a week since they last spoke. Brynne made it a point to call her every three or four days. She was from the era of handwritten cards and the telephone, so she hated email and texting. Even after Brynne set up her iPhone so they could FaceTime, she refused to turn the thing on, insisting the cell signal on Skye was too weak. She was fiercely independent and stubborn, but Brynne admired that more than anyone.

She turned the thermostat up and jumped under the covers to call her back.

“Helloo!”

“Auntie Josie, it’s me Brynne. How are you?”

“Brynnie, my love, it’s so good to hear your voice! I’ve missed you.”

“Me too! I’m sorry I didn’t call this week. I took a second job in the evenings and I’m finally getting noticed at the paper for more than finding typos.”

“That’s wonderful, darling. But a second job? If you need money, you only have to ask.”

“It isn’t for the money, Auntie, it’s actually for research.” She paused and took a deep breath. “You know how devastated I was when your agent told me the book just wasn’t realistic enough.”

“Yes, but I was rejected many times before someone took a chance on me. You are a talented writer, and I know you won’t give up on your dream.”

Brynne smiled, feeling buoyed by her aunt’s unyielding belief in her. “True, I’m not giving up, but I figured out a way to understand my subject matter a little better.”

“Oh, that sounds intriguing, do tell!”

Brynne giggled, happy to hear a liveliness in her voice that had been missing the last few times they spoke. She told her a little about Gage, the tall, dark, and disagreeable bastard who owned the club. “I’m getting quite an education, Auntie. I got to witness a woman get spanked in front of a crowd.”

Josie whistled into the phone. “Too bad it wasn’t you in the hot seat! That would give you fuel for the book!”

“Yes, well, if I get on the bad side of the boss, it just might be me one of these days.”

They talked for a while until Brynne could sense she was getting tired. Josie assured her that everything was good, and she wanted for nothing. A housekeeper visited every week and Declan, one of her many old flames, had gourmet meals delivered to her almost every night of the week when he wasn’t there cooking them himself. She told Brynne not to worry—she was being pampered. The only thing she complained about was not being able to drive her ’66 MGB Roadster. The doctor hadn’t cleared her to drive the stick shift since she broke her hip last fall. Thankfully, she’d recovered from the surgery, and things were finally getting back to normal.

Maybe Brynne could take a break from work and visit. She hung up and went to brew a pot of coffee. She didn’t feel human without a few cups in her. A quick glance in the fridge confirmed her suspicions. Half a loaf of bread, one old egg and some coffee creamer. While toast and marmalade would sustain her, she needed to get to the market soon.

Jared had texted two more times, demanding to know that she was okay. She assured him she and her “sorry ass” were fine—albeit a bit tender—and that her night had been unbelievable and eye-opening. She promised to call him later.

After breakfast, she curled up on the couch and wrote her feelings about the night in her journal. Then she spent the balance of her afternoon editing her manuscript and completely lost track of time. If only she could call in sick and spend the afternoon writing.

Forget it. The ornery master of the club would read that as weakness.

Brynne arrived ten minutes late, winded from running from the train. She got changed, freshened up her hair and face, and ran up the steps to the lounge. Thank goodness Sunday was traditionally slow, and Bettie had three tables well under control. They met at the side station.

“Hi Tink, how did your night go? I overheard some fellas complimenting you on how well you did—and the cuteness of your butt!”

Brynne blushed. “I did okay, I guess. Until the last guy used the cane. That was insane!”

“It can be… But Mr. Richmond is a master in every sense of the word!” Her eyes went dreamy, and she smiled wistfully. “I have a bit of a crush on him.”

“I never saw his face. Is he handsome?”

“A dreamboat. He looks like a young Tom Berenger.”

“Who?”

Bettie’s mouth dropped open. “Haven’t you seen the movie Someone to Watch Over Me ?”

“No, I don’t think so. When did it come out?”

“Shit, probably before you were born. Late eighties.”

She laughed. “I’ll see if I can find it on Netflix.”

“I think you’ll love it. Oh, I almost forgot. I have some tips from last night’s party for you.” Bettie dug into her bra and peeled off £275.

Brynne shook her head, shocked. “You did all the work to set that up. I only covered it for a short while. That’s too much!”

“No arguing. They were extremely generous, and this is your share.” She pushed the money into her hand.

The dark-haired beauty wouldn’t take no for an answer, so Brynne gave in. “Okay, thank you. I appreciate it. It got me out of Dimitri’s sights.”

“Yeah, that man has it bad for you.”

“Speak of the devil,” Brynne whispered, looking over Bettie’s shoulder. Dammit, why couldn’t he have drinks somewhere else?

He and a dubious-looking character sat down at his corner table. The other guy was oversized in every respect, his massive neck stretching the wool of the black turtleneck he wore under a black leather peacoat. Dimitri wore a dark-gray pinstriped suit that fit him to a T. Brynne took a deep breath and headed over.

“Good evening, gentlemen. May I bring you something from the bar?”

He ignored her question. “How are you feeling after your punishment, Kiska?”

“Fine, thank you. Just a little sore.” Brynne hoped he would leave it at that.

“Good.” He sat back and loosened his tie, his eyes never leaving hers. “Did you like being punished in front of everyone?”

Brynne swallowed a gasp. “No. I, no, it was embarrassing.” Heat crept up her neck.

“I think you are lying, Devushka. I think you enjoyed being the center of attention.”

She shook her head but couldn’t form a reply.

“I could tell by the sounds you were making, and the air was ripe with your sweet scent.”

Brynne’s teeth ground together. She lifted her chin, then asked again, “What would you like to drink?”

The corners of his mouth curled in a way that made her shiver. “I would like to lap at the honey between your legs.”

She cut him off, stamping her foot. “That is quite enough, Mr. Ivanov. If you continue to speak to me that way, I will not serve you.”

“Oh, so fiery.” He smiled fully now, enjoying her anger. “Da, Malishka. I will stop…because I want to enjoy your company tonight.” He looked mildly chastened. “I will start with the best scotch you have, straight up. My friend will have a double Stolichnaya on ice. And bring the wine list. Spasibo. Please .”

She nodded curtly and turned for the bar. Bill could see they’d agitated her, but she waved him off and relayed the order. When he confirmed the Macallan 1948 was the best scotch in the club, she punched it in. The man had more money than sense.

He got the drinks ready and said, “Never let them see you sweat, Tink.”

Bill was right. Ivanov was enjoying her discomfort.

Garrick arrived and asked her how it was going.

“He’s trying to get under my skin, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“All eyes are on him, so you have nothing to worry about.”

How could she explain it wasn’t a physical threat that worried her? It was his Hannibal Lecter-style questioning. No one could protect her from that.

Garrick glanced over her shoulder in their direction. “They are ready to order. You just let Bill know if he gets out of line.”

“Sure. Thanks, Garrick.” She headed back to the table.

“Have you decided what you want for the main course?”

Dimitri stopped studying the menu and looked up at her. “I’m looking for a new submissive. Are you available, kitten?”

She choked back a laugh. “No. I am spoken for.”

His eyes narrowed. “Really?” His lips compressed into a hard line. “Has he collared you yet?”

The game is on . “No, she hasn’t yet. Our relationship is quite new.”

“She? You are with a woman?” he said, skepticism blazing from his eyes.

“Yes. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Dimitri scoffed, and his friend cleared his throat loudly.

“What would you like to order?”

He continued to watch her, his hand rubbing the stubble on his square chin. “I’ll have the escargot, and my comrade will have the French onion soup.”

“Certainly.”

“I will choose the wine when you come back.” The other man spoke, and Dimitri turned away, effectively dismissing her. She wished she could understand Russian.

Gage was nowhere to be seen, and she was a little disappointed. After her cheeky text messages, he was probably ignoring her. Which was what she wanted, right? He couldn’t be the one to show her the ropes. Hell, neither could Dimitri. That dude wanted ownership. So where did that leave her? All revved up with no place to go.

When Brynne got to the table with their appetizers, Dimitri rose with the wine list and edged close to her. His big body dwarfed hers and she fought to hold her ground as he invaded her personal space.

He pointed to a line on the menu. “I want a bottle of this.” She saw the price and her eyes almost popped out of her head. He continued, unfazed. “We will both have the sixteen-ounce ribeye, medium rare. You can choose the sides.”

Nervous to tell him no, Brynne cleared her throat. “Uh, I must confirm I can serve those items. They are on the dining room menu. I’ll check on that right away.”

“Da.” His blue eyes glittered. “I expect you can make that happen.”

Brynne hurried over to Bill. “He wants the ’88 Richebourg Grand Cru and steaks off the main dining room menu. Can we do that?”

He shook his head, his mouth a hard line. “That bastard always likes to push the envelope. Punch it in and then go find Gage or Garrick to approve it. I’ll hunt down that bottle.”

“Okay, got it.” Off she went.

Garrick wasn’t in his office, so she reluctantly knocked on Gage’s door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Brynne, I mean Tink. May I come in?”

The door opened, and she was momentarily speechless at the sight of him. He wore a snug-fitting black cashmere sweater and faded blue jeans that were molded to his muscular thighs.

“Have you come to finish the conversation you started last night?”

“Um, no, not now. I need your approval for Dimitri, who wants steaks off the dining room menu. And he ordered a very expensive bottle of wine too. Bill said I should check with you.”

“He’s always testing my limits.”

“That’s what Bill said,” she said, wringing her hands.

“That’s fine. I’ll let it go this time. Is he behaving himself otherwise?”

“Not exactly. He’s just trying to make me uncomfortable, but I can handle it.”

“Don’t let your guard down.”

“I won’t. Gotta go!”

She was halfway through the door when she heard him say, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten your disobedience or those brazen texts.”

Her stomach fluttered as she took the stairs two at a time.

Bill was wiping down the rare bottle and had retrieved a decanter. He followed Brynne to the table and presented it to Dimitri, who nodded his approval. She was glad it was him handling the exceptionally rare Pinot Noir. The consequences of spilling a four-thousand-pound bottle of wine didn’t bear thinking about.

The young sous chef had already plated the meals and blew her a kiss when she picked them up. She thanked him profusely and hurried to the elevator.

After she put his plate down, Dimitri grabbed her wrist. “I find it hard to believe a woman fully satisfies you.”

Brynne started, “She is very special.”

“If you were mine, you wouldn’t have to work another day. I would take care of you. You could live in the lap of luxury, like a pampered pet.”

“That’s very sweet, but I’m not interested in being a pet .”

“If you wanted a woman, one would be provided for our mutual enjoyment.”

Her face suffused with heat, and she tried to pull her wrist free. “Your food is getting cold, Mr. Ivanov.”

He reluctantly let her go and she escaped to the back for some water. His approach was so intimidating, it made her pulse race with fear and, if she was honest, a bit of excitement, too.

Bettie interrupted her daydreams when she came back to complain about how slow it was. “Lucky for you, Tink, you landed a whale tonight. He’s on his way to spending a few thousand.”

“That whale is throwing all that money away on wine—it would pay my rent for three months.”

“I think he’s letting you know he could just as easily spend that kind of cash on you. I admit, he is sexy in a scary mafia kind of way.” Bettie giggled.

“Yeah, but when he tires of you, you disappear into the English Channel.”

They laughed and Bill poked his head in the back. “Ladies, back to work. Bettie, you have a new table, and Ivanov is looking for you, Tink. Get going.”

They both hurried out to the lounge. Brynne reached the table and asked, “Is everything to your liking, Mr. Ivanov?”

“The food is fine. You’ve been neglecting your duties. My wine needs topping up.” His voice had an icy edge to it.

“Of course, my apologies.” Brynne carefully lifted the decanter and refilled his glass. She looked at the other guy, and he nodded, his glare making her nervous. She filled the bald man’s glass and put the decanter down. “May I get you anything else?”

“Da. You may answer another question for me.”

Brynne sighed and gritted her teeth. “What if I don’t feel obliged to answer your questions?”

“What if I pay you to answer them?”

“That isn’t appropriate or allowed.” As far as she remembered, that wasn’t in the rulebook, but it sounded legit.

His head tilted to one side, and he looked her over. “I will conceal it in your tip, so no one will have to know.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Are you trying to make me uncomfortable?”

A rumble came from his throat. “Da.” He chuckled wickedly. “I’d like that. In fact, I can think of many uncomfortable positions for you, Kiska.” The tone of his voice deepened. “I’ve imagined tying your beautiful body to my bed, spreading you open to be smacked and licked and fucked within an inch of your life.”

Brynne shivered. If she heard those words from a different man, one she trusted, they would be music to her ears. But from Dimitri, they were just unnerving. “Mr. Ivanov, I am sorry, but I am not interested. I’m happy in my relationship.”

“It’s a pity you are afraid of what we could have together. I could fulfill your dark fantasies—in a way that I am sure your mistress cannot.”

“My mistress knows what I need. Now, please, if you’re finished, I’ll take these plates.”

“You can run, little kitten, but I see the pulse hammering at your throat, and the way your eyes have gone dark.”

“Curiosity won’t kill this cat,” she fumed.

He laughed. “I knew you were curious. At least you admit that.”

He was hoping she would lose her cool and give them another reason to punish her. After a few calming breaths, she went back with the dessert menus. He motioned for her to top up his glass by pointing his finger imperiously at the carafe. He was watching her for a reaction, but she remained calm and managed the task without dumping the wine over his head.

“We have a wonderful tiramisu tonight. Would you or your friend like to try that?” she asked sweetly.

He sat back and his eyes burned with impatience. “Nyet. I only want one thing for dessert, but you are denying me that.”

She looked down at the floor demurely. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“If only I believed you meant that, Pchelka.”

“What does that word mean?” she asked, trying to ease his darkening mood.

“It means little bee —because you sting me with your words.” He handed her the menu and poured the last of the wine into his glass. “I’ve had enough of this game; I’ll take the check now.”

“Of course.” She expelled the breath she had been holding and scurried to the bar to close out the order and print the check.

Ten minutes later, he was gone. He paid with a black American Express and left her a £1,500 tip. She should be thrilled, except it felt like dirty money.

Bettie was happy to stay and close so Brynne could head out. She returned from her break with a message from Gage, and Brynne rolled her eyes. Sparring with him was the last thing she needed.

She changed into her street clothes before going to his office. That should give him a clue that she was in a hurry. The door was ajar, and she poked her head in. What a stroke of luck—he wasn’t there! She backed up to leave and collided with a tall, warm brick wall.

“Going somewhere, Red?”

“I was looking for you. But you, uh, weren’t there.”

Up went the eyebrows, and her cheeks heated.

“Please…” He pointed to his office and her shoulders drooped in defeat as she preceded him into the room. “Have a seat. We have a conversation to finish.”

Brynne sat in one of the club chairs and stared at her hands.

Gage made a sound between a growl and a bark to get her attention. He was holding a drink out to her.

“Hendricks and tonic is your chosen poison, if I recall?”

Brynne nodded and took the drink from him, her eyes wide. She watched him fold his tall, lean frame onto the couch.

“How did it go with Ivanov tonight? Did he behave?”

“No!” she snapped. “He tormented me the entire time. Asking me all kinds of personal questions and he told me in gory detail what he would like to do to me!”

His lips turned white, his jaw rigid. “Did he try to touch you?”

“No, but his words were…” She trailed off.

“His words were what?” Gage’s voice was like sandpaper across her nerves.

Brynne took a swig of her drink before answering. “Too much. They were just too much.”

Gage stared at her. “I will speak to him.”

“It’s fine. I can handle it. I was just tired today.” Brynne leaned back and sighed. “I would rather not have him thinking he got under my skin.” She considered telling Gage about the tip, but thought better of it.

“Fine, but if he continues, I want to know about it.”

“Fine,” she huffed out.

“Would you care to tell me why you left yesterday when I told you I would see you home?”

Brynne took a fortifying gulp of her drink to buy herself a minute. He sat back and swirled his scotch like he had all the time in the world.

“I was feeling very off kilter and vulnerable.” She took another sip.

“Go on.”

“I didn’t want to inconvenience you. I don’t imagine you drive staff home, even after an intense scene.”

He drew his finger over the rim of his glass. “This situation was quite different.” His voice sharpened. “You are not one of our regular subs. I’d wager you’ve never experienced a scene like that before. You were under my care; therefore, it was my duty to escort you home.”

“I was fine. Especially after the pizza…and the catnap.”

“Are you sure there isn’t more to it?”

He will not let this go . Resigned, she sank back into the cocoon of the chair. “Upstairs, in the private party, it was enlightening and bloody erotic. Then the whole spanking thing intensified those feelings.”

“What happened at the party?” His voice was a low, his accent more pronounced.

“Oh, you know, just the erotic torture of two beautiful slaves, and the blow job of the century, delivered by my best friend. Who doesn’t have any idea that I witnessed it!”

Gage’s eyes widened. “Ooch.”

Before he could say anything, she rushed on. Her voice went up an octave or two. “Since you seem hellbent on getting me to bare my goddamned soul, I’ll tell you. I left because I might…I would have begged you to fuck me.”

His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “I wouldn’t have allowed that to happen.”

“No, of course you wouldn’t!” She let out a strangled-sounding laugh. “So, I saved you from having to spurn my advances, and saved myself from a mortifying rejection.” She put her empty glass on the table and stood. “I think that’s enough therapy for today, doc. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get home. Tomorrow is a workday.”

Gage went to stand, but she put her hand up, barely holding on to her composure.

“No, please don’t.”

She dashed out of the club without looking back. No taxis waited in the lane, so she headed for the subway. The walk would do her good and the streets were filled with people coming out of the theaters. Along the way, she avoided looking at the candlelit tables and couples making googly eyes at each other. It only made her cynical about the fake displays of affection.

Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut. Blurting out her thoughts usually got her a shocked but honest reaction. You got your answer, Bree. He made it crystal clear that even if he was interested, he wouldn’t pursue it.

Brynne kept her gaze ahead, dodging all the people hurrying in the opposite direction. A car horn blasted right behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She noticed a flashy Range Rover with blacked-out windows and fancy black and red rims with a taxicab riding his back bumper. It was driving slowly; in fact, the vehicle was keeping pace with her. The taxi flew around them and honked again as it passed. As she approached the entrance to the underground, Brynne had an odd sense of unease. Her self-defense instructor taught her to trust her spidey senses and pay attention to her surroundings.

She considered stopping in the brightly lit pharmacy, but that felt silly. As she reached the subway entrance, Brynne abruptly turned and raced down the steps. She scanned her pass and flew through the turnstiles without looking back. The train pulled into the station a minute later and she tucked herself into a corner behind a couple of tall guys with backpacks. The balance of the trip home was uneventful, and she dismissed the experience as paranoia and exhaustion.