Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
L ooking up from the notes he was writing, Xavier pinned the delectable Grace Miller with a stern look. It was time to take off the kid gloves and start being direct. He just hoped she wouldn't run screaming—figuratively speaking, of course—from his clinic, once he'd said his piece. He didn't like to think of her sustaining injuries without the opportunity of having them properly treated.
"May I speak freely, Miss Miller?" he asked, more for propriety than response, since he was planning to state what was on his mind, regardless.
"I have a feeling you're going to, whatever I say," she replied wryly, accurately reading his thoughts as she crossed one shapely leg over the other.
Xavier tipped his head sharply in acknowledgement, and a half smile tipped up one side of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles, hoping the more casual posture would relax her.
"I can only hope you don't think I'm speaking out of turn, but I have some concerns about the fact that you are incurring such lacerations and yet not receiving adequate aftercare. Do you mind if I ask which club you attend?"
The intriguing woman sitting opposite him sucked in a breath and sighed. She might not want to give details, but she wasn't going to fob him off completely. He had to give her credit for the fact that she didn't claim ignorance, at least.
"I attend a club which is rather a long way away. I do that so that I can retain a certain degree of anonymity. It isn't a question of there not being adequate aftercare provided, it's simply the case that I am too far away to access it usefully."
"I see." Xavier frowned and mulled for the briefest of moments before making his decision.
"I don't know if you've heard of Club Risqué?—"
"Of course I have," she interrupted, and Xavier could see her impatience peeking through her outwardly calm veneer. "It's one of the premier clubs on the south coast, but I'm not sure what relevance they have here, being a thousand miles away.”
"The relevance is they’ve opened a club locally," Xavier revealed. "Perhaps it's more likely you’ve heard of Perversions?"
Now it was Grace's turn to frown, the movement highlighting the fine lines that were starting to form around her eyes. They gave her face character, he decided distractedly.
"Of course," she agreed. "But that's nowhere near the same calibre."
"It is now," he disclosed, leaning forward slightly, as if sharing a secret. "The men who own Club Risqué bought this local establishment and renovated it into a more modern version of the original club. Perversions has now been renamed Club Risqué, and while it is intrinsically different, the ethos and the standards are most certainly the same as its namesake."
Grace drew in a surprised breath at the revelation.
"It is, of course, very exclusive. Membership is limited, and every patron has to undergo any necessary training courses and a psych evaluation, plus, have the recommendation of an existing member. In return, you are guaranteed top-notch security, anonymity, and the safeguard of a non-disclosure agreement."
"I can't believe I didn't know this!" Grace murmured, her navy-coloured eyes wide but undeniably interested.
"Like I said, it's very private and membership is restricted, so it's not really advertised. However, members are allowed to take guests—subject to certain security checks and the signing of the non-disclosure agreement I mentioned. If you like, I could extend that privilege to you, in order for you to check it out and see if it's an opportunity you might want to explore."
"You'd do that for me?" she asked in surprise. "But you don't even know me!"
"I know that you're a masochist, unless you're going to tell me those marks were the result of somebody not respecting your safeword."
Grace shook her head to confirm the latter was not the case, and Xavier continued. "I also know you value your privacy and you're not getting the most out of your current arrangement, all of which leads you into dangerous territory with your wellbeing. I wouldn't be worthy of my Dom title if I didn't look out for you, or any other sub, in the same situation," he expanded, re-crossing his legs and leaning back in his office seat again as he studied her reaction.
"But, of course, it's up to you whether or not you take me up on the offer. There are no strings, either way. The offer is simply to give you the opportunity to look around and decide for yourself, nothing more."
Xavier wondered if it was just his own wishful thinking that made him question if he’d detected a hint of disappointment at those last words. If she was truly as masochistic as the marks on her back suggested, then she was a girl—scrap that, a woman—after his own heart, and the date of birth she'd provided put her at just three years his junior; perfect!
Plus, he'd be lying if he said he didn't find her more than a little bit attractive, and his libido was alive and kicking, so no one who saw how hard his dick was - again - was going to believe that! He'd already had to cross his legs to stop himself coming over like a horny perv.
Her hair was a warm honey colour and it settled into a natural style with a slight curl, just above her shoulders. Her breasts were a nice handful. Not too big, not too small, as he'd discovered at the hospital, and her voice had a low, throaty tone, which was, nevertheless, perfectly assured.
And his head was bombarded with visions of her on her knees in front of him, arms bound behind her back so that her beautiful breasts thrust forward, and with her pretty pink lipped mouth open and ready to receive his cock.
He had to stop himself from groaning out loud at the mental pictures he was creating, so he covered his reaction with action, leaning forward and taking an exclusive Club Risqué business card from the silver monogrammed case he kept locked in his desk drawer.
Scribbling something on the back, he offered Grace a business card for the second time in as many days.
"Here, take this," he prompted. "The dungeon is open from Thursday to Saturday, and I am usually there after 9 pm on Fridays and Saturdays unless an emergency comes up. As long as I'm present at the club, you will be granted entry even if I'm not with you, as long as you present this card. That way, you don't have to commit to anything, and you have plenty of time to consider your options."
"I don't know what to say," Grace murmured, rising to her feet as Xavier did the same, hoping that his trousers weren't tenting too noticeably.
"You don't have to say anything." He smiled, flashing a rare dimple and white teeth that looked all the brighter against his tanned complexion. "Just thank me by keeping yourself safe and not putting yourself in a position where you're forced to visit the ER again."