In the Den (9 page)

She watched him over the rim of her glass, tracking his every move.

“May I join you?” he asked as he neared her table.

“Please.”

Though he’d seen her on numerous occasions over the years, the more he knew her, the more there was to uncover. Tonight, no pretty man knelt by her side. In fact, there wasn’t a leash in sight.

As usual at the Den, her makeup was startling. Her eyes appeared enormous, more luminous, thanks to false lashes. Her red-colored lips were full and pouty.

She’d left her hair loose, though a large clip held a chunk of it back from her face and showcased her stunning cheekbones.

By any standard, her black dress was demure, but fabulous. The square-cut neckline covered her breasts, but revealed her collarbone and an alluring glimpse of her cleavage. Previously he hadn’t played with her nipples much, but now he itched to explore all of her.

“Nice event,” she said as he sat.

“Quite,” he agreed.

“I heard last night was a little different.”

“I looked on the dessert table when I was upstairs. There isn’t a single orange cupcake in sight.”

“Orange?”

“They were a complement to the neon pink ones, I’m told.”

“Sounds like fun. I love big hair and hoop earrings. I’ll be here for the next eighties night.” She moved her straw through the ice cubes in her glass. Her filmy shirtsleeve fell back, and he noticed her white wristband.

Gutted, he stared.

Any hint of ease between them vanished. Her smile, and her hand, froze.

To avoid confusion, when a guest checked in for the night, they were issued wristbands. Doms and Dommes wore red ones. Tonight, she wore white, which meant she was heterosexual and looking to scene.

He took hold of her hand. He kept his voice low and well-modulated as he said, “You’re full of surprises.”

“I decided to accept your challenge and try to submit,” she said, meeting his gaze.

Damien rubbed his thumb pad against the flutter of her pulse.

“To you,” she clarified.

“Of course it would be to me. This is my domain.” No way would he stand by and watch her interact with anyone else.

She sighed. “You know you’re arrogant, don’t you?”

“Not usually, no.” Confident, convinced of what he wanted, determined to get it…yes. But she brought out intense reactions in him that he wasn’t sure he liked. “I’m not interested in a scene.” He wanted so much more.

“I understand. That’s why it took me so long to reach a decision.”

“What convinced you?”

As if hypnotized, she stared at the small circles he made with his thumb.

He stopped rubbing and captured her chin and tipped her head back slightly. “No hiding.”

“Maybe you can help me learn to be a better Domme. Maybe the experience will leave me unchanged. But there’s only one way to know. And…”

He waited.

“I’m curious.” She shrugged. “I liked what happened at your house. And the fact I enjoyed it scared me, shook me up. Worse, it made me question everything I’ve assumed over the last few years. Part of me wants to pretend it never happened. But the truth is, I’m also intrigued. It took me a long time to reconcile the different thoughts and feelings. How can I be a strong, independent woman, but then enjoy being in your arms after you spank me? I’ve spent years depending on only myself. The bigger question to me is…do I even want to consider a change? I’ve never met a man who was worthy of trust.” She stared into the bottom of her glass. “And I like my life.”

He waited, allowing the time to stretch in case she had anything else to say.

A full thirty seconds passed before she met his gaze. Her eyes were wide, honest. She placed her hands on the table, palms up. “It meant something when you said you’d always want your subs to come to you. I’ll be honest. I thought that was a line. Or maybe a nice fantasy. The more I thought about it, the more I thought it sounded like friendship.”

“I like that. Or maybe a partnership.”

“Don’t push it, mister.”

He grinned. Now that she was near, the tension that had gripped him for two weeks seeped away.

“So I decided I’d talk to you about it and see what we could work out. I’ll admit I’m intrigued.” She wrinkled her nose. “Damn. And as much as I hate to admit it, I’ve already learnt a thing or two from you.”

“I’m honored you’d say so. It’s mutual. I’ve learnt not to assume what you’re thinking. And I’m honing my patience skills.”

“Oh, Damien…” She batted her eyelashes. “You’ve only just begun.”

“I accept your challenge.”

Catrina cocked her head to the right and more seriously added, “I want to know what else is out there.”

“It will be an adventure for both of us.” He realized he’d stopped rubbing her wrist, and he started again. “I want two weeks of your time. When can you arrange to be away from work?”

Her chest rose as she drank in a deep breath. No doubt this was becoming more real to her. So he continued his reassuring touch.

“I work from home, but I have to meet with clients periodically.”

“We should be able to manage that,” he said.

“My clients matter to me. I won’t abandon them.” She brought her chin up.

“I’d never ask you to. The things that matter to you matter to me. So let’s figure out a schedule. Gregorio can set up an office for you. Just let him know what you need. I assume you have a notebook computer that you can bring? We have a satellite connection you can use for email.”

“As long as I can get online, I’ll be fine. I can pack all my files in a box.”

“You can drive to Denver as needed. Or I can take you. I won’t have you tied to my bedposts all the time.”

“About that…”

He remembered her having a similar reaction at his house to his threat. “Scares you?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll eventually ask me to.”

His soon-to-be sub arched one of those sexy dark eyebrows. “I might agree if I tie you up a time or two.”

“Not happening.”

She tugged her hand away from him.

“Talk to me, Catrina, always. About everything. We can resolve anything as long as we keep the lines of communication open.”

“That all makes sense. And it’s great. In theory. But I’m not good at it. My first response, always, is to protect myself.”

Damien was taken aback by how small and delicate she seemed. He’d always seen her as larger than life, a dominant, powerful force. Not that she wasn’t still, but the hesitant side of her drew him. “Not all people are trustworthy,” he said. “So it would be ridiculous to ask you to trust me.” He covered her hand but didn’t squeeze. Rather, he tried to convey his reassurance. “But I promise I will work to earn yours, every day, every moment.”

“Let’s start with one week,” she said.

Damien shook his head. Certain things, he was willing to compromise. On others, he’d remain steadfast. The trick for him was in knowing which to choose when. “Two weeks is hardly enough time for you to explore what it means to live and breathe submission. A month would be better.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“I never thought it would.” He’d only thrown it out there to make his dictate easier to swallow. He fingered her wristband. “You wanted to start tonight?”

“Yes. But I wasn’t sure what your reaction to me would be since I hadn’t called.”

He would have waited forever.

“I didn’t want to presume too much, and…” She paused. “I was a bit afraid of being rejected. I figured I could find someone to play with me.” She shrugged fatalistically. “If not, I’d planned to trade it back in for a red one.”

“Let me be clear about one thing.” His gut was tight in an unfamiliar and unwelcome way. He looked at her hard. “As I’ve already informed you, my rules for you are slightly different than they are for others. If you’re at the Den and you’re subbing, it will be to me.”

“That sounds a bit possessive.”

“It is. Deal with it. So that we’re clear, I will refund your membership fee.”

She shivered.

“Problem?”

“Um.” She exhaled. “I guess not. After two weeks, I’m going back to being a dominant, so arguing about the details is pointless.”

“Well said. Now that I have you here, Catrina, I’d like to keep you.”

“I didn’t bring any toiletries or even a change of clothes.”

“Jeff can pick them up. Just give me a list of what you need.”

“You have a solution for everything,” she said.

“Only the things I truly want.”

To her credit, she kept her gaze on him, and she didn’t look away, even though he noticed her shift uncomfortably. “As for clothes,” he added. “You won’t need many. I intend to keep you naked.”

“Sounds cold.”

“I’ll turn up the heat. Anything else you want to discuss before I take you to a private room and make you scream?”

Chapter Five

Catrina’s mouth dried.

Over the last couple of weeks, she’d played out a dozen scenarios in her head. She’d show up and he’d reject her. Or he’d frown and scold her. Best case, he’d fall at
her
feet. Still, she hadn’t been prepared for this Damien, tender and simultaneously unyielding. It scared her when she thought of how easily she’d fallen under his spell.

His touch reassured, his voice soothed.

Sexual desire knitted her insides when he was close.

Earlier, she’d watched him come down the stairs. The first sight of him had stolen her breath.

As was customary, he wore all black. Tonight, though, his clothes had a more refined cut, and the fabric seemed richer, as befitted the elegance of the night. His trousers were tailored, his wing-tipped shoes polished. His sweater, she guessed, was cashmere. He looked every inch the owner and master of the place.

He’d swept his gaze over the gathered crowd, but he hadn’t noticed her. He’d nodded toward several guests before continuing confidently down the hallway to check out the private rooms.

Everything about him oozed success and confidence.

She’d slipped over to the bar and secured a cola, knowing she needed to occupy her hands and her time until he saw her.

And she’d known the moment he had.

When he’d locked his gaze on her, she’d shaken, as if electricity had zapped down her spine. Courage had almost deserted her.

The way he’d moved toward her, with undeterred purpose, proved how much he wanted to dominate her.

And damn it, she’d spent two weeks denying the obvious. She wanted him to.

A sub had interrupted him for a moment, and she’d been momentarily afraid he would be needed elsewhere.

But he’d continued toward her.

Drawing on skills she’d learnt in an acting class, she’d pretended to be relaxed. She’d swirled her drink, thinking it was a metaphor for what was going on inside her.

And now that the rules were in place, he stood and offered his hand.

It was more than a polite gesture, she knew. It was his first demand. He was claiming her in one of the house’s most public spots.

After only a moment’s hesitation, she placed her palm against his. She accepted his strength as she slid from the high stool.

“Milady.” He nodded, indicating she should precede him down the hallway.

That surprised her. He could have instructed her to follow him. He might have asked her to crawl. She should have realized that nothing about him was predictable. “Any particular room?” While each was furnished with a counter, sink and a few toys, none were identical.

Because a production company rented space here, she knew there was a storage area that contained an amazing array of furniture and contraptions.

Almost every fantasy could be fulfilled with enough notice.

Some rooms had no doors so that participants could be watched by anyone who wandered past. Others could be sealed off, except for a small window. All scenes were looked-in on at some point by either Gregorio, Damien or a designated House Monitor.

“Last one on the right is vacant.”

She’d never been down that far, and she wondered what he had in store for her.

Gregorio intercepted them on the way. “Enjoying the evening?” he asked, his arms folded across his imposing chest.

She detected a hint of a tattoo on one biceps.

The man glanced between Damien and Catrina, obviously taking in their body language.

“It’s okay to ask her if she’s willing,” Damien said dryly.

Gregorio nodded. His pirate-like earring glinted in the dim light, and his bald head made him seem all the more imposing.

Like the trusted employee he was, Gregorio asked, “You’re not under any undue pressure, Milady?”

“I’m here of my own free will.”

“And you know the Den’s safe word?”

It gave her comfort that Gregorio was looking out for her, even where his boss was concerned. “Halt,” she said.

“I’ll be looking in on you.” He cocked his head in his boss’s direction.

“You’re not invited to join us,” Damien said. “She’s mine.”

Gregorio grinned. The expression was quick, as if he was satisfied in a very personal way. “I never thought otherwise, Boss.”

“Please prepare an office for Catrina on the second floor.”

Gregorio dropped his arms. “Private?”

“Adjacent to mine.”

“By when?”

“Monday morning. I have plans for Catrina tomorrow.”

“I take it our meeting is canceled?”

“Not at all.”

Gregorio frowned.

Obviously she wasn’t the only one confounded by Damien.

“Consider it done, Boss. Milady, please, if I can be of service, let me know.”

“Enough,” Damien said, the word a growled warning.

Without saying anything further, Gregorio stepped aside.

Feeling Damien’s fingers possessively resting against the small of her back, Catrina continued down the hallway. As they reached the end, he reached over her head to push open the door.

She missed a step as she crossed the threshold.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

A gigantic spool-looking contraption dominated the space. Though she didn’t know what it was called, she knew two ways it could be used. And in either case, she’d be completely helpless to him.

He placed his fingers lightly at her spine again and urged her forward.