pleasure before she’s ready, Sloane Winters will always be safe with me.
But will I be safe with her?
This isn’t about me, it’s about her and removing the blindfold she wears when looking at herself. I force myself to pay attention to the present and focus on her paperwork. I am teaching her submission, not training her to be my submissive. A small but important distinction.
Members mill about the bar, the volume a little higher than normal for an afternoon. The buzz of The Games has taken over, setting every Dom’s crop humming in anticipation of a new sub to dominate. “Darko Aralica.”
For a fabulous Dominant, Carey Clark is an insufferable asshole. He can also be personable, so I manage to scrounge up a small smile for the tall, black-haired New Yorker. “Clark. How’s The Big Apple?”
“Boring, or I wouldn’t be on the wrong coast looking for excitement.”
“You always loved slumming it.”
“You know me too well. How is that darling little sub of yours? Melanie?”
He remembers her name but feigns disinterest like a cat toying with a mouse. “You mean Milena? She is well, though not mine.”
“Really?” His brown eyes twinkle. “Be a shame if someone was to lead her away from you in a dainty little collar and leash.”
That earns a real smile. “Daintiness is not her style. She would require something with spikes.”
“Duly noted.”
He’s wanted Milena for ages—he was a judge the year she won The Games and never quite got over her.
He waves at Claudia the bartender, who brings his drink to him from across the bar, dismisses her, and takes a leisurely sip.
“I assume you know I’m a coach this year? Again.”
I nod.
“I was waiting patiently, hoping you’d bring someone as delectable as Milena to the table for me to sample. And Valerie dropped out last minute, freeing a spot. Her contestant was without sponsor. Shame you’re not participating this year.”
“I’m working on another project. Valerie left because of Tiny?”
“Yes. It seems her sub is wearing the chaps in that relationship. Valerie shouldn’t let her get away with so much.”
I wave my hand and take a sip of coffee. “She’s happy and it’s none of our concern. She finally found someone she wanted to collar.”
“You sound jealous.” His eyes widen and he sets his drink down with a scandalized laugh. “Mister Untouchable has been touched and he liked it. Who is it? Milena?” I don’t answer or look away. “No, this is a new development.” He looks away and picks up his drink, pausing with the glass just below his mouth. “The paperwork have anything to do with it?”
I set my cup down a fraction too hard and lay my forearm across Sloane’s name on the page to block his prying eyes.
Carey smiles and savors his drink. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
The edges of my vision go black as the thought of Carey Clark touching, or fucking, Sloane slams through my mind. Over my dead body.
“Anyway, nice talking to you again. I think I see Milena over there.” He slaps my shoulder. “God, you Europeans are stiff.”
He walks away and it’s a good twenty seconds before I remember how to breathe. This is a problem. As a Dom, he will have every right to touch Sloane, to test her for her membership.
Sex is not a part of the test—some submissives wish to be dominated but not fucked, and including intercourse in the process would be unfair to them if sex is a hard limit.
But the fact that this makes me angry is an issue. Sloane is not mine, and I need to calm down.
I need to see her again.
I sag in the chair. It’s easier to think about Darko when he’s not in the same room. I’ve never met anyone like him before: dangerous and safe all at once, wrapped up in a neatly muscled package that is all kinds of yes. It’s not just power or looks; with Daddy’s job, I’ve met many kinds of men. Royalty, musicians, actors, businessmen whose empires rival kings, and none of them held a
But will I be safe with her?
This isn’t about me, it’s about her and removing the blindfold she wears when looking at herself. I force myself to pay attention to the present and focus on her paperwork. I am teaching her submission, not training her to be my submissive. A small but important distinction.
Members mill about the bar, the volume a little higher than normal for an afternoon. The buzz of The Games has taken over, setting every Dom’s crop humming in anticipation of a new sub to dominate. “Darko Aralica.”
For a fabulous Dominant, Carey Clark is an insufferable asshole. He can also be personable, so I manage to scrounge up a small smile for the tall, black-haired New Yorker. “Clark. How’s The Big Apple?”
“Boring, or I wouldn’t be on the wrong coast looking for excitement.”
“You always loved slumming it.”
“You know me too well. How is that darling little sub of yours? Melanie?”
He remembers her name but feigns disinterest like a cat toying with a mouse. “You mean Milena? She is well, though not mine.”
“Really?” His brown eyes twinkle. “Be a shame if someone was to lead her away from you in a dainty little collar and leash.”
That earns a real smile. “Daintiness is not her style. She would require something with spikes.”
“Duly noted.”
He’s wanted Milena for ages—he was a judge the year she won The Games and never quite got over her.
He waves at Claudia the bartender, who brings his drink to him from across the bar, dismisses her, and takes a leisurely sip.
“I assume you know I’m a coach this year? Again.”
I nod.
“I was waiting patiently, hoping you’d bring someone as delectable as Milena to the table for me to sample. And Valerie dropped out last minute, freeing a spot. Her contestant was without sponsor. Shame you’re not participating this year.”
“I’m working on another project. Valerie left because of Tiny?”
“Yes. It seems her sub is wearing the chaps in that relationship. Valerie shouldn’t let her get away with so much.”
I wave my hand and take a sip of coffee. “She’s happy and it’s none of our concern. She finally found someone she wanted to collar.”
“You sound jealous.” His eyes widen and he sets his drink down with a scandalized laugh. “Mister Untouchable has been touched and he liked it. Who is it? Milena?” I don’t answer or look away. “No, this is a new development.” He looks away and picks up his drink, pausing with the glass just below his mouth. “The paperwork have anything to do with it?”
I set my cup down a fraction too hard and lay my forearm across Sloane’s name on the page to block his prying eyes.
Carey smiles and savors his drink. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
The edges of my vision go black as the thought of Carey Clark touching, or fucking, Sloane slams through my mind. Over my dead body.
“Anyway, nice talking to you again. I think I see Milena over there.” He slaps my shoulder. “God, you Europeans are stiff.”
He walks away and it’s a good twenty seconds before I remember how to breathe. This is a problem. As a Dom, he will have every right to touch Sloane, to test her for her membership.
Sex is not a part of the test—some submissives wish to be dominated but not fucked, and including intercourse in the process would be unfair to them if sex is a hard limit.
But the fact that this makes me angry is an issue. Sloane is not mine, and I need to calm down.
I need to see her again.
I sag in the chair. It’s easier to think about Darko when he’s not in the same room. I’ve never met anyone like him before: dangerous and safe all at once, wrapped up in a neatly muscled package that is all kinds of yes. It’s not just power or looks; with Daddy’s job, I’ve met many kinds of men. Royalty, musicians, actors, businessmen whose empires rival kings, and none of them held a
Similar Books
