Chapter 6 #2
Ten years in the lifestyle had taught Alec not to judge: hetero, same-sex, poly—attraction and kink were personal.
Still, certain kinks—even after ten years—pushed at his comfort zone.
Take Mistress Betty, who was using her sub as a footrest. Leaning forward, she set her glass between the man’s shoulder blades with a warning.
“If you spill so much as a drop, I’ll switch your disobedient ass, adding to the stripes you begged me for earlier.”
“Yes, Mistress,” the sub squeaked, as she slapped the seat of his skimpy midnight-blue shorts with the flat end of her crop.
Condensation beaded on the glass. Alec watched a droplet roll down and drip onto the man’s back then over his ribs and onto the floor. Impressed by the sub’s control, he saw a second and third bead follow but knew he didn’t have a prayer of enduring much longer.
Betty—also in her fifties, who at close to six feet tall towered over many of the men—claimed she wasn’t a sadist. Alec didn’t buy it for a minute.
Despite the spectacle of waiting for the sub to break, Alec had a pressing question for Regina and moved toward the group.
“Ladies,” he said in greeting. “May I join you?”
Regina waved him to the empty seat beside her, eyes rapt on the scene playing out before her.
“Think he can hold out?” Alec asked quietly.
She grinned and shook her head. “Roman never makes it past four icy drops, which is why Betty does it to the poor boy.”
When the fourth droplet splashed onto his skin, trickled down his spine, and into the gap at his waistband, Roman arched and let out a squeal.
“Tsk, tsk,” Betty scolded, picking up the empty glass now lying on its side at her feet.
After she set it on the side table, she yanked his shorts to his knees.
“Naughty boy. A dozen strokes for disobeying and another twelve for my ruined shoes. Then you’ll bring me a refill, and we’ll try this again. ”
“Yes, Mistress,” he replied, a distinct quiver in his voice. The size of the hard-on he sported said it wasn’t from fear or humiliation, but eagerness for more of his mistress’s attention.
And man, did he get it.
After twelve solid, welting whacks to his bare ass, Betty made him spread his legs, baring his vulnerable dangling bits, which she targeted with the remaining dozen.
Alec winced in sympathy when Roman cried out with the last six. They were obviously painful, though he rocked into them as if hungry for more.
Time for another beer, Alec decided. “Let me buy you a drink at the bar, Regina.”
“You’re sweating, Master Alec,” the domme observed with a laugh. “You men dish it out, but only a rare few, like Roman here, can actually take it.”
“Which is why I choose to wield the whip. I’m betting it’s why you do, too.”
After watching the male sub gingerly rise and hobble off to do his domme’s bidding—bowlegged in consideration of his tender man parts—she shrugged. “Point taken.”
Regina stood when he did. “One piece of business before we adjourn.” She extended her open hand to Betty. “He only lasted to four drops,” she announced. “He’s getting worse, not better. Pay up.”
“We’ll keep working on it,” Betty promised, dropping a twenty into Regina’s palm.
“And I’ll keep collecting,” she crowed, tucking the bill into the front of her corset.
Although convinced between the two of them, the pint-sized mistress had the bigger set of balls, Alec stepped aside, as a gentleman would, and let her lead the way to the bar.
She ordered a tequila shooter then asked, “What’s this about?”
“I couldn’t avoid hearing about your recent nautical event. Was it at the convention center by any chance?”
“Why yes, it was.”
“In honor of Marco Benedetti?”
“I don’t divulge my client’s names, but you seem to know it already. Why do you ask?”
“I was there that night. One of your staff looked familiar. She’s in her mid-twenties with long, dark brown hair.” He held his hand flat at chest height. “She comes up to about here on me.”
“That could be Emily.”
Alec’s jaw tightened a fraction. It was the only reaction he allowed himself as the name hit him square in the chest.
“What has she done?” Regina asked.
“Nothing,” he replied, keeping his tone even. “We’re old friends. I just want to talk to her. I’ll call tomorrow to get her address.”
“No outstanding warrants?” she pressed.
“No, she’s clean,” he reassured.
“In that case, I can’t help you.”
The rush of triumph after eight years of searching evaporated in a snap. “Why not?” he ground out.
“Because if you’re old friends and don’t know where she lives, she obviously doesn’t want to be found. Emily isn’t perfect, but she’s one of my best servers. I won’t risk losing her.” She reached up and patted his cheek. “Fellow dominant or not.”
Alec admired her for shielding her staff, even if part of it was protecting her bottom line. It seemed that Emily may have found herself another guard dog. It should’ve eased his mind. Instead, it only sharpened the reminder that he hadn’t been her shield when it mattered most.
Regina tossed back her tequila, sucked her lime, and then hopped off her stool.
“My advice. Get here earlier next Wednesday. I have a feeling she’ll be around.”
Alec grappled with a swirl of emotions as she walked away, triumph that he’d finally found Emily’s elusive trail, and frustration gnawing at him. Four days was too damn long to wait.
A stool scraped against the patio tiles beside him. He glanced over to see a massive figure in black lowering himself onto it. The string of lights over the bar glinted off Leland’s shaved head.
“What’s your interest in Regina’s staff?” he asked.
“It’s personal.”
The big man nodded thoughtfully. “See that subbie clearing the table near the door?”
Alec’s gaze shifted to the pretty brunette with a mass of springy curls. “She’s one of the newer members,” he replied. “Julia, I think.”
“Mm-hmm. Notice the uniform. She works for Regina and might have the information you’re after.”
He hadn’t noticed her until Leland pointed her out. He was really off his game.
“Why would she tell me when Regina won’t?”
“She’s been angling for a scene with me.” From the rise of color in her cheeks and the way she bobbled the tray, empty beer bottles clinking, she’d noticed their attention—or at least Leland’s.
“What’s stopped you?” Alec asked.
“When we’re here on the same night, one of us has always been working. Give me thirty and I’ll have your answer.”
“Regina won’t be pleased if you steal her staff to play.”
“They’re officially done for the night. The curly haired subbie volunteered to help her friends on bar duty with cleanup. Besides, Mistress Richmond owes me a favor. I’ll collect if she gives the girl any grief.” He thumped Alec between the shoulder blades. “You’ll owe me when I return.”
“I’ve got no problem with that.”
Alec signaled the dom tending bar for another beer then watched Leland work his magic.
A few words from him and the wide-eyed sub nodded, eagerly agreeing to whatever he suggested.
She didn’t hesitate in putting down her tray of empties and hurried after him to the opposite side of the yard, where a swing, suspended from a live oak, swayed in the breeze.
Rather than thirty minutes, it took over an hour.
Passionate cries echoed in the night signaling the conclusion of their session.
Not long after, Leland returned carrying a blanket-wrapped bundle—a voluminous cloud of springy curls peeking out of one end, pink-tipped toes from the other.
He found a vacant couch in an out-of-the-way corner and sat with her cuddled in his lap, encouraging her to take both water and chocolate until she could stand and walk under her own power into the house.
Alec didn’t quibble over the delay. Not when the first words out of his friend’s mouth were, “The Beach Bungalows, North Miami Beach. Apt 318. Same apartment complex as Julia.”
Alec exhaled slowly, tension easing from his shoulders for the first time all night. City. Street. Apartment Number. After years of chasing shadows and finding only dead ends, at long last he had something solid to punch into a GPS.
“What did you do?” he asked. “Coerce it from her while she was flying?”
“As if,” he replied, looking heartily offended. “I told her you were an old friend trying to reconnect. If she got chatty after a swing, that can’t be helped.”
“I owe you.”
“It was no hardship, believe me. She’s a sweet sub—I’ve been wanting a taste for some time. Besides, if finding this woman removes the perpetual scowl from your face, it’s worth it. We’re an easygoing, fun crowd, and you’re bringing down the mood.”
Several minutes later, Julia reemerged from the house looking more composed. Leland rose.
“If you’ll excuse me. I’m in the mood for seconds.” Before he crossed to the door, Alec heard him repeat, “No hardship at all.”
As long as he’d known him, Leland was a loner. But maybe there was a spark of something special happening with Julia.
Emily’s silhouette under the parking-lot lights replayed in his head until it settled as an ache in his chest. They needed to talk—really talk—when the dust settled. And there was still a promise to honor.
Now that he finally had a clear direction, he couldn’t afford to misstep.