CHAPTER 2 #2
Jamie shrugged, her eyes darting over to me when I moved to stand on her other side. “I’m not entirely sure.”
“What exactly are you reading?” I asked, interested to know what her underlying reason for being here was. I got the feeling she was hiding something.
“Books. Romance, specifically.”
“Romance?” Interesting.
Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Erotic romance books.”
Cav laughed, a throaty sound that drew attention from the submissives standing around us. “You’re a dirty girl, are ya?”
I narrowed my eyes at Cav, but it didn’t do any good. He probably figured he was in deep already, so what the hell.
“I’ll admit I’m rather drawn to BDSM. It’s my mission in life to … experience it for myself.”
My thoughts drifted back to her mention of being a virgin earlier. “Really?”
She nodded but didn’t elaborate.
“And you thought you’d lose your virginity here in my club?” I managed to hide my smile when Cav choked on his water.
“You’re a virgin?” he asked as he cleared the obstruction.
Jamie’s eyes shot up to mine, hardened. “I said I was a kink club virgin.”
I held her gaze, implored her. I knew she wasn’t telling me everything.
“So, you’re not a virgin virgin?” Cav clarified.
When she didn’t answer, I knew I hadn’t imagined her Freudian slip from earlier. She was a virgin.
I should’ve turned her toward the door, sent her home right then.
Instead, my cock twitched, and a deep, dark need burned hot and fast through my veins.
Something I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
It was a need to possess, to control, to protect.
Although I managed one of the most popular BDSM clubs in the country, I hadn’t felt that need in a long damn time.
It was quite surprising in its intensity.
“You are a virgin,” Cav muttered, his voice much lower than before, his baby blue eyes lit like a gas flame.
I peered over at him and shook my head. This wasn’t a conversation we’d be having right now.
But you’ll have it later? When you address the fact that you’ve never fucked a virgin before?
Son of a bitch. My subconscious was starting to piss me off.
Cav held my gaze momentarily, then nodded and took another drink before launching a different question. “So, what is it you do for a livin’?”
“I’m still in school.”
His eyes widened, and I fought the urge to laugh. “A student?”
“What?” I asked with a smirk. “Did you think she was in high school?”
He glared at me.
This time, I couldn’t help but laugh. Sure, she was young, but not that young.
“Definitely not high school,” Jamie said. “I’m working on my doctorate.” Her eyes dropped to her glass. “In psychology.”
I knew that. I did. But for some stupid fucking reason, I’d forgotten. And then it all seemed to click into place.
“Ahh.” Cav seemed relieved. “Is that why you’re here? To dig into the psyche of a Dom?”
Very good question. I crossed my arms, waited for her to answer.
“I … uh…” She couldn’t seem to hold either of our gazes. “It might’ve been part of what prompted me in the beginning, but no. Tonight…” Jamie blushed. “I’m here for selfish reasons.”
Selfish, huh? That means she’s interested in that spanking she witnessed earlier.
No. Damn it. That wasn’t what it meant.
Even if my brain was in denial, my damn dick liked the sound of that, and it twitched in response.
“What interests you?” Cav set down his water, leaned casually on the bar. “Bondage? Spanking? Water sports? Master/slave? Daddy/baby girl?”
Color infused her cheeks, but Jamie didn’t hesitate when she said, “I honestly don’t know.”
A sweet smile tilted the corners of her lips as she looked between the two of us.
“Okay, let’s look at it from another angle,” Cav prompted. “When you read, what tropes do you tend to go for? BDSM specifically.”
“Um…”
I saw the moment the steel infused her spine.
“I tend to enjoy the Teacher/student aspect, to be honest.”
Hear that? You can be her teacher.
Her comment stirred a memory. During one of my previous training sessions, one of the submissives thought it would be appropriate to call me Professor Edge.
I’d nixed it immediately, but now, as I stared at Jamie, I imagined her calling me Professor, a sweet little pout on her lips when she promised to do everything I told her to.
Yes! Keep that train of thought.
“So you’ve never been tied up?” Cav asked, clearly unaware of the fantasy playing out in my head. “Had that pretty little ass turned a nice rosy red?”
While nothing that came out of Cav’s mouth surprised me—he was not known for discretion or subtlety—I had a hard time hearing him speak to Jamie that way.
She wasn’t a club submissive. She wasn’t a plaything we’d be tying up or crushing between us at some point in the evening.
She was Zeke Lautner’s sister, for fuck’s sake.
But Professor Edge has a nice ring to it. Especially coming from her.
She most certainly would not be calling me Professor.
“I have not,” she answered, her voice even. “But I’m definitely interested in seeing if those are things I enjoy.”
Cav’s eyes shot to mine. I shook my head, warning him that this was going in a direction I wasn’t comfortable with.
“Well, sugar, I have to admit, I’m curious to see how things play out for you tonight.”
“No,” I stated firmly. “No, you’re not.”
The silent conversation ensued:
Me: And do not call her sugar. That’s your pet name for club submissives. She is not on the menu.
Cav: Whatever.
Jamie chuckled. “I take it the two of you aren’t into sharing.”
My eyes shot to Jamie’s face. Sharing? What the hell was she talking about? When had we gotten on this topic?
Mmm. She’d look damn good pinned between you and Cav. You know it.
She smiled, a mixture of seduction and sweetness rolled into one. “I just figured…”
I wanted to tell her that wasn’t going to happen. None of this was going to happen. Tonight, she would be walking around, completely clothed throughout the entire evening. And when she exited my club, she would be going home alone.
Or … you could see how this plays out, you big bad Dom.
No.
Absolutely not.
Yet I didn’t say anything.
Not a single fucking word.
Jamie
While I waited for Edge to answer me, I watched the battle brewing in his head.
From what it looked like, he was hanging by a thread, but I wasn’t sure if it was me or Cav who was sending him into a tailspin.
Ever since Cav had arrived on scene, there’d been a noticeable shift in Edge’s demeanor.
As though he had to protect me from the sexy Dominant.
Granted, the second I mentioned my thoughts on the whole Teacher/student thing, something had darkened in his eyes.
Was he turned on by the idea of me calling him Professor?
Was that a sign of a power shift between Dominant and submissive?
Was this a thread I should tug on, see which direction it headed?
Perhaps it would be a way of proving my theory.
I would have to think about that a little more later.
Right then, I was trying to figure out who actually held the winning hand.
Although I hadn’t interacted with Edge much before Cav showed up, there was undoubtedly some sort of silent communication going on between them.
These two men had a history together, that much was clear.
It was easy to peg them both as Dominants.
No question there. However, there was a playful undertone to Cav that Edge didn’t seem to have.
No, Edge was on guard, his body hard, unyielding, as though he was expecting a confrontation.
Was there a reason for that? Something in their past that had him on the defensive? Or was it me specifically?
Quite frankly, I enjoyed watching the interaction between the two of them.
And it wasn’t until Cav appeared that I realized exactly what Edge’s intentions had been for me.
I’d pegged him correctly earlier. He had intended to keep this completely clinical, giving me a tour of the space, but not actually allowing me to experience anything.
While it didn’t surprise me since I knew about his relationship with my brother, it pissed me off a little.
No. Not a little. It pissed me off a lot.
I didn’t come here tonight for Edge to treat me like Zeke’s little sister.
I’d come with the hopes of getting the full experience of a place of this caliber.
I was hoping to interact with other submissives and Dominants, get a feel for their relationships, their expectations.
And perhaps on some level, I’d considered getting a glimpse myself, having a more intimate interaction of my own. With Edge.
Did that mean we had to have sex? No.
Did that mean he had to touch me? No.
However, it did mean he couldn’t intend to keep me at arm’s length. That wasn’t fair.
Knowing I would get nowhere voicing my opinion on the matter just yet, I turned my attention back to Cav. He seemed rather interested in my reasons for being here, and as far as I was concerned, he would be the one who would open doors for me this evening.
“So, no to the sharing?” I repeated, more so to get a rise out of them than anything.
Cav grinned. “Oh, we’ve been known to share, sugar.”
The way he used the term sugar sounded very generic, as though he used it frequently.
I understood the use of pet names, both in relationships and in BDSM.
Master or Sir, known as honorifics, were used as a way for a submissive to convey respect, to acknowledge who had the power in a relationship.
Some Dominants preferred the use of them, others—like my brother—did not.
However, it seemed to be rather common for a Dominant to give a submissive a pet name. Like sugar, in Cav’s case.
“Why sugar?” I asked.
Cav frowned. “What?”
“Why do you use that endearment when you talk to someone you deem to be a submissive?”
He stared at me for a moment, confusion warring with amusement in his pretty blue eyes.