guys like him—ants
to a Popsicle stick. They got wind of his money and position and were already building
dream houses on the beach in their minds. He could smell it on them like over-spritzed
perfume. He’d never gotten that vibe from Kelsey, not even a whiff.
“Maybe you’re right,” Wyatt admitted.
Jace leaned out of the car to press his finger to a machine at the entry gate, then
turned back toward Wyatt. “I’m always right. I thought we’d established this by now.”
Wyatt sniffed, so used to his brother’s ego that he didn’t bother to respond to it.
“This whole plan might work out after all.”
The gates in front of them swung open, and Jace pulled forward. “Oh, and one thing
I forgot to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
He sent a sly grin Wyatt’s way. “Your sweet waitress who I know you’re weaving filthy
slave fantasies about?”
Wyatt grimaced but didn’t deny it.
“Yeah. She’s a dominatrix.”
“She’s a—” Wyatt’s head dropped back against the seat. “Ah, fucking hell.”
* * *
Kelsey stripped down in the locker room and donned the standard black bra and panty set that most female submissive trainees wore at The
Ranch. Colby had also told her to wear a basic leather collar for their first session.
She knew why he’d made the request. He’d obviously sensed her reluctance to take the
role even in their initial limits negotiations and wanted to put that psychological
symbol in place early. And it’d been a powerful one. The minute she’d fastened the
simple strip of leather around her neck, her heartbeat had picked up speed and her
skin had gone clammy.
I can do this,
Kelsey reminded herself.
Surprisingly, despite the trauma with Davis, fear wasn’t at the forefront of her mind.
She knew Colby wouldn’t physically harm her. There wasn’t even a doubt there about
that. She was more knotted up about what this submission could open in her. She tried
not to think of all the men she’d yielded to in her life. None of those relationships
had been D/s based, but the blind trust had been there all the same. When she let
her guard down, she could lose herself in a guy. Each time thinking
this
was going to be the one who didn’t fuck her over. And time and time again, she’d
picked the wrong guy to grace with that hope.
Growing up, she’d thought it was her version of rebellion against her mother’s sour
view of men. Her mom had told her and her sister to trust none of them, that men only
did what was good for their dicks, their wallets, and their ego. But Kelsey had trundled
along, reading her fairy tales and believing that she could create her own one day.
And that silly girlish hope had only led her right down the path scarily close to
the one her mother had ended up on. Kelsey had been used, taken advantage of, and
belittled more times than she cared to remember. And now she was going to let another
guy have control over her.
Even though logically she knew it was temporary and that Colby would rather cut off
an arm before he ever hurt her, she was having trouble keeping her dread locked away.
She glanced at the clock and realized she had three minutes before she was due in
the training room.
I can do this,
she repeated silently, and took a deep breath. In an hour, it’d be done. The hurdle
crossed. All she needed to do was get past this first session, then it would get easier.
Gathering up all the iron inside her, she straightened her spine, slipped on a silk
robe and ballet flats, and headed out into the hallway. Reluctant or not, she wasn’t
going to dare to be late.
Once she made her way down the hallway to the training area, Kelsey let herself in,
shucked the robe and shoes, and kneeled down in the middle of the quiet room. Colby
had left a kneeling pad on the floor and had made sure the temperature in the room
was comfortable. Both were subtle messages to her that he wasn’t going to
to a Popsicle stick. They got wind of his money and position and were already building
dream houses on the beach in their minds. He could smell it on them like over-spritzed
perfume. He’d never gotten that vibe from Kelsey, not even a whiff.
“Maybe you’re right,” Wyatt admitted.
Jace leaned out of the car to press his finger to a machine at the entry gate, then
turned back toward Wyatt. “I’m always right. I thought we’d established this by now.”
Wyatt sniffed, so used to his brother’s ego that he didn’t bother to respond to it.
“This whole plan might work out after all.”
The gates in front of them swung open, and Jace pulled forward. “Oh, and one thing
I forgot to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
He sent a sly grin Wyatt’s way. “Your sweet waitress who I know you’re weaving filthy
slave fantasies about?”
Wyatt grimaced but didn’t deny it.
“Yeah. She’s a dominatrix.”
“She’s a—” Wyatt’s head dropped back against the seat. “Ah, fucking hell.”
* * *
Kelsey stripped down in the locker room and donned the standard black bra and panty set that most female submissive trainees wore at The
Ranch. Colby had also told her to wear a basic leather collar for their first session.
She knew why he’d made the request. He’d obviously sensed her reluctance to take the
role even in their initial limits negotiations and wanted to put that psychological
symbol in place early. And it’d been a powerful one. The minute she’d fastened the
simple strip of leather around her neck, her heartbeat had picked up speed and her
skin had gone clammy.
I can do this,
Kelsey reminded herself.
Surprisingly, despite the trauma with Davis, fear wasn’t at the forefront of her mind.
She knew Colby wouldn’t physically harm her. There wasn’t even a doubt there about
that. She was more knotted up about what this submission could open in her. She tried
not to think of all the men she’d yielded to in her life. None of those relationships
had been D/s based, but the blind trust had been there all the same. When she let
her guard down, she could lose herself in a guy. Each time thinking
this
was going to be the one who didn’t fuck her over. And time and time again, she’d
picked the wrong guy to grace with that hope.
Growing up, she’d thought it was her version of rebellion against her mother’s sour
view of men. Her mom had told her and her sister to trust none of them, that men only
did what was good for their dicks, their wallets, and their ego. But Kelsey had trundled
along, reading her fairy tales and believing that she could create her own one day.
And that silly girlish hope had only led her right down the path scarily close to
the one her mother had ended up on. Kelsey had been used, taken advantage of, and
belittled more times than she cared to remember. And now she was going to let another
guy have control over her.
Even though logically she knew it was temporary and that Colby would rather cut off
an arm before he ever hurt her, she was having trouble keeping her dread locked away.
She glanced at the clock and realized she had three minutes before she was due in
the training room.
I can do this,
she repeated silently, and took a deep breath. In an hour, it’d be done. The hurdle
crossed. All she needed to do was get past this first session, then it would get easier.
Gathering up all the iron inside her, she straightened her spine, slipped on a silk
robe and ballet flats, and headed out into the hallway. Reluctant or not, she wasn’t
going to dare to be late.
Once she made her way down the hallway to the training area, Kelsey let herself in,
shucked the robe and shoes, and kneeled down in the middle of the quiet room. Colby
had left a kneeling pad on the floor and had made sure the temperature in the room
was comfortable. Both were subtle messages to her that he wasn’t going to
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