Fulfilled (4 page)

“You made a good impression on Maurice, and he’s rarely wrong.”

Lois bit back a squeak of surprise. Graham set her drink down on the little table and dropped into the other chair. “He seemed nice.”

Graham loosed a bark of laughter. “Maurice isn’t nice, Lois. That’s why he’s on the door. He plays in the hard dungeon when he plays. He’s an inflexible Dom and has specific tastes.”

Lois didn’t like the sound of that. Kennedy explained the difference between middle-of-the-road Lifestyle and hard-core. Her ears were pierced, and that was enough. It had been her one small act of defiance in childhood. She had no need to be branded to know who she belonged to if she was ever lucky enough to be claimed. Lois didn’t want to be humbled, degraded, or humiliated. Her mom practiced those black arts, and she wasn’t going there again. She’d be properly deferent to Maurice and give him a wide berth. She was adept at not garnering unnecessary attention.

“There’s a dance floor on the other side of those folding doors. We use it for the meet and greets and some special occasions, like a party or a celebration, a ceremony maybe, but people don’t usually come here to dance.

“There’s three unattached Doms in the room.” Graham kept up a running commentary. “They’re checking you out. I’m not introducing you to anyone else tonight unless we see Patrick. So keep behaving just as you are. They’ll all get the message.”

Bossy much? If she hadn’t seen Kennedy put Graham in his place, he might have scared her. As it was she was torn between seeing him as her boss and like a younger brother. She really wanted to meet that good-looking Dom who was still watching her. Shy, good-girl Lois was banished. The weight of his gaze was palpable, and a flurry of excitement giddyuped in her belly. He was good-looking, beautifully cut dark brown hair framing a rough-hewn face, nicely shaped lips she could imagine kissing. Broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt, and his leathers molded the length of a muscled thigh. One hand rested casually on that thigh, and she noted the blocky size of it. She wondered how it might feel on her body. She thought his eyes were a dark blue but needed to get closer to determine her guess. Something Graham wasn’t allowing tonight.

She obeyed his edict. Graham told her the three people sitting together were in a ménage, and that really interested her. Imagine having two men care for a woman, love her,
and
make love to her! That woman looked blissfully happy. Graham narrowed his eyes at her, and she knew he’d picked up on her interest. The other couples were in D/s relationships, although one of the women was apparently the dominant in theirs. The man with her sat quietly, yet Lois could see how alert he was to his Domme’s every move. She periodically laid her hand on either his arm or thigh, and he visibly relished her touch. Neither spoke that she could tell, and yet she could see the intense connection and nonverbal communication. Graham didn’t talk about the Doms, and she decided to ask about the one she’d really noticed.

“That’s Master Trevor. He scenes or offers up as a third. He’s been looking at you the whole time. He doesn’t do that, usually.”

Lois wanted to know more.

“Graham.” Another tall man presented himself, and she swallowed the question.

“Hello, Patrick. Good to see you.”

Lois froze. This was Kennedy’s boss. The one who owned the club. She didn’t look at him, uncertain how to react. Graham intervened.

“You remember Lois, Patrick, our nanny. Our submissive nanny. Lois, Master Patrick.”

She sent Graham a glance calculated to convey her annoyance at the teasing label he’d applied before murmuring an acknowledgment of Patrick, who placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face. He stared at her for a moment before smiling, his dark countenance transformed into that incredible handsomeness she remembered, and she smiled back, quite spontaneously.

“Welcome here, Lois.” He released her and turned back to Graham. “Born submissive. She’ll fit in well.”

Okay then. She guessed they would know, but it was getting a little tiresome. Lois kept her mouth shut and her opinion to herself.

“Who’s up tonight?”

“Master Jonathon is working with a new sub, Marguerite. She’s connected to a Dom who’s moving out here next month, and she’s worried about her form. I think this is her last night with Jon. Might be a good scene for Lois to observe.”

“That works. I’ll bring her along. How’s Madi?”

“Well. Exhausted, but well. It’s taken her a long time to get back on her feet. No more pregnancies though. My heart couldn’t stand it.”

Graham and Patrick, make that Master Graham and Master Patrick, began to make their way out of the room. Nobody asked her, but Lois knew Graham’s expectations anyhow. She wished she could have asked a few more questions, especially about Master Patrick’s wife. Babies were exhausting, and it sounded as though the woman hadn’t had an easy time of it. And if she was honest, she wanted to hear more about Master Trevor.

She took a quick sip of the soda and hurried after them, adjusting to her borrowed shoes. No questions, just compliance. It was actually quite freeing. She wondered if she could really feel Master Trevor’s eyes on her or if she was being fanciful. They didn’t go far, just down the hallway, then turned into an open doorway. Lois stepped in behind, and Graham took her wrist to pull her to stand in front of him. He leaned over her shoulder and spoke in her ear.

“Be quiet and observe. If you find you can’t manage anything, face me and we’ll leave quietly. And, Lois? If you ever give your Dom a look like you gave me, especially in front of another Dom, your ass would get paddled red. And maybe not in private.”

Holy crap.
Respect. No bratty behavior. Lots to remember. Surely getting aroused at the very thought was twisted. The fictitious Dom she imagined paddling her ass closely resembled Master Trevor. She might be getting ahead of herself, but she felt considerably attracted to him. Probably the ambience. She nodded her understanding, and Graham straightened. She really wasn’t sure about this scene thing. She understood, intellectually, about erotic pain releasing a mixture of endorphins and enhancing pleasure. She reacted sexually to the idea of being restrained and at the sensual mercy of a trusted man. Or two. Yessir, two. Lois Wright obviously was making up for lost time.

But mostly, she wanted to belong to someone or someones who’d take her burdens away, someone she could give herself to without a qualm. Trust, respect, and communication, the basis for any solid relationship. She dared to hope.

* * * *

Trevor stared at the empty doorway. Who was that sub with Graham Alexander? Just a slender slip of a woman, pale and lovely, a mass of golden-brown hair wreathing her head. He longed to release it and wrap his hands in its length. He could imagine her on her knees in front of him, awaiting his command, her little breasts lifted for his caress. His leathers fit uncomfortably tight, and he shifted his position to ease his aching cock. Women often appealed to him, and he’d fucked his way through a considerable number over the years, never committing to one, never settling. He was in demand as a third. Like that should be a source of pride. Oh, the subs liked him, loved his expertise, filling one orifice while their Dom filled another to bring them superb pleasure, but the emotional component was fleeting and lacking.

That little sub screamed to him. Way past appeal. She wasn’t young and stacked. Sadly lacking in protocol, too. The way she stared at him from beneath her long lashes, striving to keep up the pretense, was reflective of a bratty sub or a tourist. Graham was married and pussy whipped. He acknowledged it and bragged on it because the other man was
happy
. Trevor fiercely envied Graham. He’d found his One, just as Trevor’s best friend Cameron found his One in Olivia. Trevor kept telling himself and others he wanted the same thing, but his actions told a different story. He took single, trained subs for a one nighter or was a third to his friends or other Doms. Which was why his ass was still glued to the arm of this chair instead of up and moving to confront Little Miss Checking Him Out and putting Graham to the test.

Trevor could admit to lusting after Little Miss. He could admit to instant sexual attraction. After all, they were in a place where sex was the big draw. All kinds of sex. Trevor had been dominant in the bedroom since high school. He liked to tie his girlfriends up and make them crazy with pleasure. He cut a swathe in school, too. He took a degree in law enforcement before moving into private security work. His life was all about control and keeping people safe. And he wanted to take that lovely little sub away from Graham, control her, and keep her safe, alone and forever. Pleasure her to insanity. And how nuts was that?

“Comin’?” Randall gestured toward the door. “Jon’s got Marguerite up. Last session.”

Trevor shook his head. “No. Go on ahead. I’ll see what Mallory’s up to tonight. She bartending this week and you know how she gets.”

“Yup. Bored and feeling left out. You always capitalize on that.”

Randall hustled out of the meet-and-greet area before Trevor could respond. What was there to respond to? The other Dom was right. He was lazy, content to fill his nights with casual D and s. Except tonight he really didn’t feel up to it. His tumescence was a thing of the past, presumably following after Little Miss. He’d have a beer and think awhile, maybe give Cameron a call and talk to his buddy. Call him from a goddamn club where he should be enjoying himself instead of pontificating. Shit.

* * * *

People closest to the door shuffled, and an enormous man filled the entry. Lois swore she felt him before she saw him. It was then impossible to keep her eyes lowered. She stared at him, in awe and not caring who knew. He was absolutely, amazingly gorgeous. Maybe six foot four, broad shoulders packed with brawn, arms rippling with muscle, a large expanse of naked skin gleaming under the lights, including his shaven head. His barrel chest was well defined above the ridges of muscle banding his abdomen, and she fancied she could see his heart pump and power that huge torso. She wished Master Trevor hadn’t been wearing a shirt because naked torsos were suddenly Lois’s favorite body part. This Dom obviously took really good care of his body, and Lois made a mental note to look into some form of exercise. It was never too late to start getting fit.

His leathers fit admirably over his hips and thighs just as Master Trevor’s did, and she boldly looked at the front of them where a significant bulge advertised his sex. Slightly embarrassed at her temerity she raised her eyes to his face. Wow. Nothing refined there either. Harsh cheekbones, full, sensuous lips, a blade of a nose and deeply set, dark, dark eyes. Saracen. He could have been the cover model for
The Saracen Blade
, a favorite book from her teen years. A secret fantasy. Lois sighed a little. Her heart stuttered as his gaze locked with hers, and she felt her body respond, much in the same manner as with Master Trevor. She inadvertently leaned into Graham who immediately supported her with a hand on either side of her waist. The Dom in the lounge area was the good guy. This Dom the bad. Whew.

The Saracen’s eyes dropped to Graham’s hands and flicked back to her face, becoming shuttered. He moved on, and she was aware he’d hesitated for only a few seconds. It seemed more like a lifetime. He looked nearly as good from behind, and she shamelessly checked out his tight, muscular bottom and long, powerful legs. His boots rose to midcalf, well-worn and polished, the heels clocking on the tile floor. Did these guys shop at the same place? It would be nice if Master Trevor happened to be walking away from her as well, so she could enjoy the view. Graham would look as hot, but she wasn’t interested in Graham.

Lois realized a tall, statuesque brunette walked gracefully behind the Saracen, secure in her beauty, wearing a clinging silk robe in a deep shade of amber. Lois had an absurd urge to trip the other woman, send her sprawling on the floor, and then kick her when she was down. She blinked against the overwhelming thoughts and feelings and shivered. Graham instantly spoke in her ear.

“That’s Master Jon. Jonathon Spence. He replaced me as house Dom. Marguerite is the sub Patrick referred to earlier.”

Jonathon Spence. And he’d noticed her and didn’t like what he saw. She experienced an abject sense of disappointment and a hint of resentment. Too bad for him. Maybe she shouldn’t have looked at him so obviously, but somebody needed to blindfold her if that were the case. How couldn’t she look? He was amazing.

“It’s okay, Lois. You were staring at him like you stared at Master Trevor. More obviously in fact. Oh, I noticed you checking out Trevor. So did he, even if you did it more circumspectly. But Jon figures you’re my sub. He wasn’t pleased with your form. Or mine, incidentally. No Dom would tolerate that kind of behavior. He expected me to correct you.”

Okay then. These were the subtleties. Not so unlike the real dating world where boyfriends expected their girlfriends to behave appropriately and be loyal. And vice versa, she hoped. Master Jonathon thought she belonged to someone else. Too bad. She wondered how to correct that misinterpretation and was astonished at herself. Full speed ahead was so
not
her style. Heck, she had no style and was adrift on confusion.

Master Jonathon was a man of few words. He gestured to the brunette who slipped out of the robe to unveil a skinny body. Well, all right, slender, but those breasts couldn’t possibly belong to a real person. She was attractive, Lois could admit, if one liked skinny and fake, and Lois was fast turning into a bitch because—she wasn’t going there. Lots of places she wasn’t going tonight. She’d picked two men out tonight, and was interested in them both. Slutty behavior, she was certain, even here.

She decided to treat the scene like a lab assignment at school, an observation and recording assignment. She mentally hauled out her lined pad and pen. Point form. Factual. No assumptions, no feelings, simply what transpired.