Chapter Two
Vivian held her breath and sank to her knees,
her whole body focused on the man in front of her.
Welcome, Viv. Present yourself to me.
It was all the man had said, but she was already fascinated.
Those words were said in a deep, dark tone that made her shiver slightly. He
was likely a hell of an actor. Every eye would be on this man. She’d been
right. He was the man from the bar, the one who had caught her attention
because he’d basically walked out of her every fantasy. Tall, dark, muscular,
with a face that belonged on a magazine cover. He was masculine, and she would
bet he was pushing forty. Which didn’t bother her at all. She liked an older
man.
Not that she got to date many since her home club was filled
with twenty-somethings, and she wouldn’t date her professors. Much of her
professional experience was at the company her father cofounded, and not a man
there would have touched her fearing her father’s wrath or her Uncle Ian’s
never-ending sarcasm.
Another reason that London felt like freedom. Damon Knight
was simply her boss. She hadn’t grown up around him. The man hadn’t changed her
diapers. Or nappies. Whatever they called them here.
So she was free to sink to her knees and present herself to
this gorgeous actor who she was probably going to ride like a racehorse.
She let her head fall forward, placing her palms upright on
her thighs and spreading her knees.
“Very pretty,” he said, his voice like whiskey and
anticipation. That voice went straight to her pussy. “You’re not new to the
lifestyle.”
She kept her head down. “Not at all, Sir.”
“And an American. I didn’t expect that.” He sounded slightly
amused. “I’ve heard that accent before. Though you sound mostly standard
American, there’s a hint of twang in your tone.”
“I’m from Dallas, but I spent a lot of time abroad, Sir.”
“Yes, well, so have I, but anyone around here can tell
exactly where I grew up.” He moved in and his hand came down, tilting her chin
up. “You’re quite beautiful. How old are you?”
She was confused. “I think all you need to know is that I’m
old enough.”
It wasn’t like she was barely eighteen.
“You said you’d been in the lifestyle for a long time. You
look like you’re maybe twenty-one,” he replied.
She gave him a grin. “Try twenty-five.”
His brow furrowed. “That feels like a baby to me.”
“What are you, Sir? Barely forty?” She was teasing him a
bit.
“I’m thirty-six,” he replied, sounding slightly aggrieved.
“It looks good on you.” She was excellent at soothing a
man’s ego. “As to how long I’ve been in the lifestyle, I grew up in it. Well, I
grew up and my parents were in the lifestyle, though they kept it mostly to the
club. They were open about it. I spent most Saturday nights when I was a child
in the kids’ room at their club.”
He frowned, the grim expression doing nothing to lessen his
beauty. “They had a kids’ room at a sex club?”
She didn’t care about the judgment in his tone. She’d
learned long ago that simply because one was in the lifestyle, it didn’t mean
that one wasn’t judgmental. There were plenty of jerks in the lifestyle, too.
“I suppose everyone could have paid for babysitters on their own, but the club
was like family, and I enjoyed those nights. I didn’t watch orgies or anything.
We were strictly forbidden from joining. Nothing but juice boxes and Disney
movies.”
He frowned down at her. “And you’re a brat.”
Had Sophy said this guy was fun? For all his gorgeousness,
he sounded like a judgmental prick. She let her expression go neutral. “If
you’re displeased with me, I can go.”
“I didn’t say that.”
She wasn’t going to waste time on someone who didn’t want
her. “In the two minutes I’ve been in this room you’ve inferred my childhood
was perverted and called me a brat for answering your questions. It’s obvious
from your tone that you don’t like a brat. Given the evidence in front of me, I
should take my leave and you can find a more suitable partner.”
She didn’t mention that she could do the same. She knew how
to handle a man like this.
He was quiet for a moment. It was obvious he didn’t know how
to handle a woman like her. Or perhaps he didn’t care to know. “I don’t think
your childhood was perverted. I was surprised. I’ve never been around a club
that acted as a family in that manner. And I once quite liked a brat.”
But then some woman done did him wrong, and now he would take
it out on every woman. Well, she’d tried. “I am quite the brat, Sir, and I
don’t particularly want to change. I’m certain the management can find you
someone you might like better.”
He sighed, a weary sound. “I’m making a hash of this. Please
stay. The truth of the matter is I was watching you earlier and thought you
were the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen in a long time. It threw me off when you
walked in, and I’m not handling it well. Did they tell you my terms?”
“Not really.” His words had placated her to some extent. It
was hard to hear that she was gorgeous and not settle a bit. “I was told you
were a good match and when to be here. I didn’t need to know much more. I’ve
been under a lot of stress in the last year, and I was looking forward to a
session.”
“Then we have something in common.” He placed his hand on
her head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been told I come off a bit harsh at times. Please
stay. I think I need this as much as you do.”
She needed to make a few things plain. “I’m a submissive,
Sir. Not a masochist. I don’t know that I want to serve someone who dislikes
me.”
“It’s the opposite.” He was quiet for a moment as though
trying to decide how much to say. “I liked you the moment I saw you, but I
don’t trust the emotion. I’m sorry. I went through a bad divorce. I promise. I
won’t say another thing that might hurt you. I’m a Dom. I’m not a sadist.”
She chuckled. “I know a sadist, and he’s one of the nicest
men I’ve ever met. He feeds that part of his soul so it never gets the best of
him.”
“And I haven’t played in a long time, which is why I’m being
rough on you when you don’t deserve it,” he admitted. “Again, I’m sorry. I
promise to be perfectly pleasant from here on out.”
It would still be a better idea to walk away. She had some
strict dating rules, and she was ignoring the most important one. Although this
wasn’t a date. It was obvious this man was a wounded animal, and they tended to
tear up the people who tried to help them. She would offer him a therapy
session, but that wouldn’t go well.
And yet she found herself sitting there in her submissive
position. There was something about the man. Something dangerous and
attractive. Something she wanted to explore but not for more than a night. This
man would need years to get over whatever had been done to him. He might never
get over it.
He wasn’t dating material, but if he was a good top and good
at sex she wouldn’t complain.
“All right, Sir. If I’m staying then I should get to ask a
question, too. Only about your experience as a Dom.”
He nodded, though he was clearly wary. “All right.”
“How long have you been in the lifestyle?” Vivian asked.
“Since I was a young man, and yes, that makes me
hypocritical because of what I said earlier. I was twenty-two. You look younger
than you are, and I’m getting to the age where people start talking midlife
crisis when I’m seen with a woman who is barely an adult. Not that I’m seen
with them. I try to find women more my age.”
“I was told you aren’t looking for anything more than a
casual partner.”
His head shook. “I’m not even looking for that. I’m leaving
town soon, and I won’t be back for quite a while.”
Good. Maybe they could get on the same page. If they could,
she wouldn’t have to look for someone else. “I understand. I’m not looking for
anything permanent either. I’m looking for a top to give me a nice spanking and
some orgasms and that’s all.”
He seemed to come to a decision. “Excellent. Then I think
we’ll pair well. You want a punishment scene?”
He appeared to be a careful man, and she decided to shove
aside the comments he made earlier. She supposed if one didn’t grow up in the
lifestyle it could seem odd. All most people ever heard about was the kinky
sex. They didn’t hear about the potlucks and pool parties and families that
were made in the club and relied on outside of it.
She was pretty sure this man didn’t have a massive family he
could count on. Her blood family was pretty small. Or rather her nuclear
family. Her brothers were both adopted, but that never once made her feel like
she was more of a McKay. Cooper and Hunter both wore the family tartan when
they’d gone to a family reunion in Aberdeen. Her mom and dad were both only
children. They had no close blood-related aunts and uncles.
Oh, but they had friends. Friends who became family. Friends
they could count on like they were brothers and sisters.
She bet this man was guarded and rarely let anyone in.
There was a perverse part of her that was fascinated by the
idea. Could she be the one who made him open up? Could she be the woman who
could heal his heart and make him live again?
Nope. That was for romance novels. Not that she didn’t enjoy
a good magical pussy/penis story, but in reality no single person could heal
someone else’s soul. The person who was hurt had to do the work for themselves.
“I think a punishment scene would do wonders for me, Sir.”
She had done the work. She knew what she needed and what her boundaries were.
The Master was a lovely man, and she could enjoy him on several levels without
running the risk of getting emotionally involved. One of the best ways was to
role-play. She loved role-play. “But I would rather build a story around the
play. We can pretend I’m getting punished for a reason. It helps me enjoy the
scene.”
A brow rose, and the man looked positively arrogant. “You
want me to pretend to be someone else?”
“Have you never role-played, Sir?” He’d been in the
lifestyle for years and didn’t role-play?
“I suppose I’ve engaged in a bit but mostly at parties. I
went to a play party once where everyone was supposed to be Roman generals and