“Whitney.” Sam nodded to the Domme before turning his attention to Rainie. “Girl, Cullen needs you at the bar.”
“Yes, Master Sam.” Rainie cast him a look of relief before she disappeared from the dungeon room.
The Domme glared. “Sam, I—”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “She didn’t say no, but some submissives won’t. Read the body language. And you need to give them space to say if they don’t want what you’re offering.”
“Shit.” Whitney scowled. “What did I miss?”
“If you’d looked instead of pursuing, you’d have caught it,” Sam said. “How close was she to you? Did she back away? Was she leaning forward or turning her side to you? Flirting with her hair or face…or crossing her arms defensively.”
The Domme looked as if she’d like to put her fist through the wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I really fucked it up.” Tall and slender, she kept her black hair shorter than Sam’s, and her delicate features concealed a mind as tough as her body. She’d make a fine Domme with a tad more experience.
“You did.” Every Dominant in the world screwed up. The good ones admitted their mistakes and learned from them. “You’ll be more careful next time.”
“I will, and I’ll apologize to the girl.” She slapped his shoulder—one of the few people in the place who dared touch him. “Thanks for breaking in.”
After nodding, he headed back to the bar to give Rainie a different lecture. Submissives, especially trainees, needed to be able to say no.
He snagged her as she walked toward the front of the room, having obviously traded places with Dara. Well, Dara definitely knew how to say no. “Rainie.”
Her hazel eyes widened, and she took a step back. Hands in front. Clenched already. “Yes, Master Sam.”
He sighed. Sometimes he enjoyed his “eat babies for breakfast” reputation, but sometimes it got old. Eventually the girl would discover that sadists tended to be politer than regular Doms—at least, when not in a scene. After all, if a sadist was nasty, then how would he get anyone to play with him? “Did you want a session with Whitney?”
She shook her head.
“Say it aloud, girl. Did you?”
“No,” she whispered.
Might as well use his damned scary rep. If she could say no to him, she should be able to say it to anyone. “I can’t hear you, missy,” he snapped.
“No.” Still a whisper.
Her wrist cuff included a yellow ribbon to show she liked mild pain. “Bend over the bar stool.”
Her eyes widened, but after a second she obeyed.
When he forcefully slapped her boy-shorts-covered ass, she squeaked. He said, “Stand up.”
Her face was red, more from embarrassment than from being hurt.
“Did you want to scene with the Domme?”
Her bottom lip quivered. “No.” Still too faint.
“Until I hear a loud no from you, I’ll continue.” He gave her a heartless look. “This wouldn’t be the first time I spanked someone for hours.”
She gulped when he pointed to the stool, but bent obediently.
He delivered a swat hard enough to sting his palm, hard enough to make her yelp. When she stood, he asked, “Did you want to scene with the Domme?”
“No!”
Nice and loud. “Repeat that.”
“No!”
“Do you want me to spank you again?”
“No!”
“Good.” He looked upward. “Did the ceiling fall because you said no to a Dom?”
She blinked, and her mouth dropped open. “I guess not.”
“Tell me the point of this lesson.”
“I should have told her no.”
“Right. Next time, say no with enough assertiveness that a Dom doesn’t think you’re saying yes.” Sam tapped her cheek with his finger, pleased she didn’t shy away. “Do better or next time I’ll use a cane.”
“Yes, Sir.” She took a step away, then another. “Thank you, Sir, for the lesson.”
He crossed his arms over his chest as she hurried away. She got halfway across the room before she reached around to rub her ass. He grinned.
WEARING A HALTER top and a short wraparound skirt, Linda sat between Gabi and Kim, watching Sam. As he’d delivered a hard swat to a tattooed submissive, she’d realized everything about the Dom was sexy—his severe expression, harsh face, square chin, corded wrists, lean muscles. Black tough-guy clothes, a big black belt, and boots. All that darkness made his ash-gray hair and pale eyes seem eerie. When he crossed his arms over his chest and watched the young woman flee, Linda gave a little sigh.
“What’s up?” Kim eyed her and popped a tiny quiche in her mouth.
Just lusting after a man. Linda cleared her throat and went for a diversion. “Have you ever noticed what a guy’s posture and demeanor say about him?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Kim said.
“Well.” Linda looked around, then nodded at the giant, craggy-faced bartender. “He moves like he’d not only fight hard, but he’d enjoy the heck out of it. A brawler.”
Gabi snorted. “You got Master Cullen down. What about that one?” She nodded at a brutal-looking, darker Dom with a scarred face.
Linda studied him. No expression, but his eyes never stopped moving, and he stood as if… “Get in his way, and he’d flatten you without thinking twice. Then he’d step over your body without looking back.”
“Damn, you got Master Nolan figured out too.” Kim grinned.
“Working as a shopkeeper, you learn to read people quickly.”
Gabi gave her a sly smile. “What about Master Sam?”
“I’ve met him, so it’d be cheating.” Her lips curved up. “He wouldn’t start a fight, wouldn’t enjoy it, but wouldn’t back down either. And he’d definitely finish the job.”
Kim nodded. “That’s him.”
“Then he’d kick the guy, just to enjoy hearing him groan,” Linda added.
Gabi choked on her drink, coughing hard enough to attract attention.
“Way to go, dummy. Cullen saw us,” Kim hissed.
Gabi held up her hand, managed a breath, then wheezed, “Oh, please, as if Ben wouldn’t have already called your Master? Didn’t you tell Raoul we might visit the Shadowlands?”
Kim’s eyes widened. “But…but Ben didn’t tell on us before.”
“After the last time we sneaked in, the guys undoubtedly had a chat with him.” Gabi assumed a smug expression. “Which is why I asked permission.”
Linda frowned, trying to catch up. Wasn’t Ben the oversize security guard in the entry? “You’re going to get in trouble? Just for being here?”
“Oh yeah.” Kim glared at her friend. “You little brat.”
“Hey, you guys. I heard you might come by.” A short, buxom blonde with sea-green eyes dropped into a chair before smiling across the table. “You must be Linda. I’m Jessica.” After swiping one of Gabi’s pizza rolls, she popped the tidbit in her mouth. “Mmm.”
“Have some more,” Gabi said and pushed the plate over.
“Can’t.” Jessica’s mouth turned down. “Z said when I wander around, I’ve been forgetting who I belong to.” She patted her dark green corset. “He said he’d make sure I feel as if he’s always got his arm around me…and pulled the strings so tight I can barely breathe.”
“That’s a new one.” Kim looked worried. “Hopefully he won’t share that trick with Raoul.”
Belong to? Linda spotted the engagement ring on Jessica’s hand. “You’re engaged to Master Z?” Are you insane?
Jessica laughed. “He’s not as scary in daily life.” After a second, she amended, “Well, sometimes he’s scarier.”
“How did you know we might come here?” Kim asked.
“Let’s see.” Jessica squinted in thought. “Gabi called Marcus. When Marcus called Dan about some serial rapist, he mentioned Gabi’s plans. Dan told Kari, and Kari told me, and I told Z.”
“Drown it. Raoul’s probably heard the news from at least three people.” Kim tipped back her head to stare at the ceiling. “I am doomed.”
Linda bit her lip, guilt dropping onto her shoulders. “Will you really get in trouble?”
“Not if I move fast. Time for preventative action.” Kim whipped out her cell phone, turned it on, and hit speed dial. “Hey, Master? Gabi and I actually convinced Linda to visit Shadowlands. I didn’t think she’d go for it. She’s so stubborn.” She winked at Linda. “But she agreed, so we’re here, and I wanted to make sure you knew.”
Through the phone, Raoul’s voice was deep and smooth, although Linda couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Kim winced. “Well, yes, we did plan to ask her if—” Pause. “No, I didn’t think—” Pause. “Yes, but—” Pause. Kim’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, Master.” She turned the phone off.
“You’re dead meat, girlfriend.” Jessica shook her head with a suppressed giggle. “What’s he going to do?”