Brat and Master (14 page)

He watched her from a distance. She wandered through the gallery to the rest room and spent a good ten minutes inside. Freshening up, perhaps. Crying, maybe. A flogging could be emotionally intense. He felt vaguely guilty and tried to push the thought off. For one thing, the thought only led to him getting pissed off at Amanda, and he felt positive Amanda meant well. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep playing with people this way, though. Some doms were good at keeping their hearts hard. He wasn’t one of them. He found a spot in the gallery that had a good view of the restroom and waited.

Dottie came out eventually, looking morose but with her makeup tidy. But a few steps from the rest room she was accosted by a collared blonde woman almost as tall as he was. He’d noticed her before, at the newbie night, because she was impossible not to notice. This was the second time she had ended up talking to someone right after he’d played with them. Soon Dottie and the woman were in animated conversation, and Dottie was brightening up by the minute.

A tall, dark-haired man with tousled hair, wearing a white shirt that was open to nearly his waist, and leather pants, leaned on the rail next to him. “You’re acquiring quite a reputation for coldness.”

Jeremy looked over at the man. He too looked familiar. He’d been the man who’d demonstrated negotiation with Amanda, he realized. Vincent was his name. “Hello,” he said. Things started clicking into place. The tall woman was Vincent’s sub, or maybe it was slave. And Vincent was a friend of Amanda’s, so Susan probably was too. He remembered what Amanda had said about having friends to watch him.

“Really,” Jeremy said blandly. He supposed the best approach was to stay cool.

“You never play with the same woman twice, but you always stay with them until they are okay. You never demand anything of them sexually. Even now, you’re watching over that girl—”

“Dottie,” Jeremy interrupted, feeling vaguely irritated.

“Dottie. And here the rumor was that you didn’t even bother to remember their names.”

“The rumor is wrong, then.”

“I used to follow the same rules. Well, not about the sex, but the rest.”

“You played with Amanda,” Jeremy said and regretted it. Actually, he wouldn’t have cared about whether Vincent
had
“played” with Amanda, if that had meant a flogging or something like that. But the sex comment had tipped him over for a second.

“Yes, I played with Amanda. And now she’s a dear friend, and I don’t want to see her hurt. I’m trying to figure out if you’re pining for her or if you’re just a cold, emotionless bastard.”

Jeremy didn’t appreciate the word
pining
either, but he bit back his retort. Insisting he wasn’t pining would only confirm the other alternative. He didn’t care what Vincent thought, but he cared what he passed back to Amanda. “I guess you’ll have to make up your own mind.”

Vincent nodded. “I usually do.” He put out his hand. “Name’s Vincent. And if you’re not Jeremy, I’ve made a horrible mistake.”

“I’m Jeremy. Pleased to meet you.” Jeremy turned from the rail. For a moment, the two men squeezed, testing each other’s strength, and then, satisfied, they both let go.

“Amanda thinks that because she has been able to play with so little emotion for so many years, everyone can do it.”

“I can handle myself,” Jeremy told Vincent. It wasn’t easy, but that didn’t mean he was lying.

“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about all the hearts you’re breaking on the way.” Vincent put up his hand to stop Jeremy’s protest. “I know. You tell them in advance. I’m not questioning your ethics. Or even the results, especially. I think you give them an experience to remember. Maybe you raise their standards a bit. I’m impressed with your work.”

Jeremy shrugged. “I’m going to head home, anyway. You have a beautiful submissive. Thank her for taking care of Dottie for me, please.” He pushed himself off the rail and picked up his case.

Vincent’s eyes widened suddenly, but Jeremy didn’t care what was behind that. He was done. He was going to call Amanda when he got home and tell her he was tired of playing games.

Vincent stuck out a leg, and Jeremy thought he could have twisted out of the way, if it hadn’t been for the man bumping him on the back at the same time. Jeremy fell, letting the metal case go with a clatter and grabbing on to the rail before his knee hit the ground. He straightened, twisted, and cocked his fists, full of anger.
What the hell is Vincent trying to pull?

His mother’s voice ran through his head.
“Never risk those wonderful fingers of yours, Jeremy.”
He’d backed down from a dozen fights in elementary school, enduring the taunts of the boys who called him coward. It would have been easier to fight back, but he’d always known his mother was right. And now, his livelihood depended on it. He unfolded his hands and let them rest at his sides. With that gesture came the calmness it had always given, even when the result had been a beating. He was in control, not anyone else, and not Vincent.

There wasn’t any malice in Vincent’s eyes. So why? There was no way it had been an accident. For some reason, Vincent didn’t want him to leave. He tried to hide his smile. The only reason for that involved Amanda.

Vincent stared at him. They held gazes for several seconds.

“You could have just asked me to have a drink with you at the bar,” said Jeremy. “Let’s go.”

Vincent laughed and clapped his hand on Jeremy’s back. “Sounds good.”

FOR MOST OF her adult life, Amanda had been willing to share. After all, sharing was what gave her the best access to a variety of play partners, and the resulting variety of experiences. She could hardly expect her partners to share her if she wasn’t willing to share back. She had told people she didn’t have a jealous bone in her body.

She had also always known, at some level, that it was a lie.

When Susan had given her a call and described the scene Jeremy had done, Amanda had grabbed her raincoat and ran to her car. Thanks to her first paycheck, she’d been able to get the Beetle repaired. She knew she was being impetuous. The whole point of letting—okay, making—Jeremy play was to see if his feelings were really for her or simply transferred over from his feelings for Cheri. If she walked into Excess right now in a fit of jealousy, she could not only damage her own reputation at the club but undermine what she’d been working for.

Did Susan have to describe so vividly how incredibly hot Jeremy’s play partner was? That was what had spurred Amanda into action in the first place. There was still time to turn around. But each new report she got had made her feel her pain more acutely. She wasn’t as cool as she pretended to be. And while the time away had been intended to bring Jeremy clarity, to make sure he wanted her, it had done the same for her instead. She wanted Jeremy. She wanted him now, and she wanted to have him for a good long time. And she didn’t want to share.

She made an effort not to drive more than fifteen miles over the speed limit. A few minutes later she pulled into the parking lot of Excess. The rain, which had been alternating coming down in buckets and then stopping entirely, had currently abated, leaving a heavy fog but nothing else.
That’s a good sign. At least I won’t be coming in looking like a drowned rat.
She decided to leave her umbrella in the car—not wanting to waste a precious second grabbing it from the backseat—and headed for the door.

“Hey, Joe,” she said to the big bouncer out front. Joe had been a fixture of Excess for a long time. He never ventured inside—he would tell anyone who asked that he was vanilla. But he was friendly and big enough that even the most macho of doms would defer to him when he laid down the rules.

“Hi, Amanda.”

She normally would have chatted, but she was in a hurry so she kept going. He stuck out his arm to block her. “What the fuck?”

“Such language from such a lovely girl,” said Joe. “I can’t let you in dressed like that, Amanda. It’s fetish night.”

Oh. Right. She sat on the advisory board for the club, as something of a representative of the submissives. When Vincent had run the club, fetish night had been more of a recommendation than a requirement, but at the most recent board meeting, they had agreed to require appropriate dress once a month. Not everyone was into dressing up, but it enhanced the mood for a lot of people, and everyone could dress as they pleased the other nights.

Amanda usually wore something sexy to Excess anyway. She enjoyed that. But this time she had run out of the house wearing jeans and a T-shirt and sneakers.
My head isn’t on straight. I should go back before I make a fool out of myself.

“Nice raincoat you have there, though,” Joe said.

Oh, right. Her raincoat came almost to her knees and was made of pink rubber. She’d seen it on sale in a department store and thought it was sexy, so she’d snapped it up. She remembered thinking it could double as a rubber dress in a pinch.

“Turn your head,” she said.

“Not a chance,” said Joe. “I may not be into all the whips and chains, but there’s a reason I come here every night, and it isn’t just the paycheck.”

“Can I go inside and change?” Not that she had anything to change into.

“Rules are rules, ma’am.”

And she was responsible for making those rules. She looked over. She couldn’t even see the road from where she was, so presumably no one on the road could see her. “Fine. Hold this.” She took off the raincoat and handed it to him. “I should tell Mrs. Joe on you.” She knew Joe was married but had never met his wife.

“Mrs. Joe,” said the bouncer, “says look but don’t touch. And I ain’t touching.”

“Fine.” Amanda pulled her shirt over her head and then handed it to Joe while taking the raincoat back.

“Nice,” said Joe. “Not nearly enough, but nice.”

She had to be wearing her comfy white cotton bra. Then again, there’d been no reason to wear anything else when she’d thought she was staying in for the evening. She rolled her eyes and put the coat back on. There were times when she would have enjoyed flirting with Joe, but this was not one of those times. She turned her back to him and pulled her bra off, and then slipped out of her jeans and panties. The coat had three big fasteners in front, which wasn’t nearly enough, but it was better than nothing. She fastened them up, which left the coat displaying a fair amount of cleavage and, more worryingly, parting too much at the bottom. She rolled her clothes into a ball and held them in front of her crotch in case the raincoat gaped too much. “Satisfied?”

She thought for a moment that Joe was going to make some leering remark, but he just nodded. “Of course.” Far from a predator, Joe looked hurt. She supposed a few months ago she would have milked it for all it was worth. Now she was on a mission to turn just one man on.

“Sorry, Joe, maybe next time.”

Joe smiled. “You look cute, Amanda. Have fun.”

There was a small side room at Excess where someone was always on duty to check coats; Amanda was not the first person to check her clothes instead. A low, steady, trancelike beat was coming out of the loudspeakers, with the occasional overtones of a soprano voice in the throes of pleasure. She’d heard the track before. Someday she’d find out what it was called, because the song oozed sex. This time, however, she wanted to retain her focus. She looked around for Jeremy and found him seated at the bar with Vincent of all people.

Two doms talking, and what they had in common was her. That could be dangerous. Vincent had been a play partner and a friend. Now he was happily matched with his Amazonian sub, Susan, so he was off-limits. Still, she didn’t want the two conspiring. She hastened her pace.

“Hi,” she said, loudly because they still hadn’t noticed her.

Vincent and Jeremy twisted around on the bar stools. “Amanda. Was wondering when you’d show.” Vincent had a smug look on his face.

“How’d you know…” Amanda started, then stopped.
Of course.
Susan’s description hadn’t been an accident. She’d been manipulated. And she’d told Susan she was coming, so of course Susan had told Vincent. Was Jeremy in on it? “Never mind. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Do you have something to say to me?” asked Jeremy, his voice cutting through. Amanda was vaguely aware of Vincent leaning back, but it didn’t matter. The way Jeremy met her gaze held her fast in place, all her attention on him.

“Yes.”

“Then say it.” He clearly wasn’t happy. Maybe she’d pushed him too far. Maybe playing with the “gorgeous girl” made him wonder if Amanda was such a good choice after all.

What she knew for certain was that she had to put it all on the line, because if the drive in the rain had shown her anything, it was that she wanted him very badly. She’d tried to keep her distance, and she’d failed.

“This.” She grabbed his shoulders, aware it was a decidedly unsubmissive gesture, and kissed him so hard she felt her lips bruise against his. It didn’t matter. She’d take pain or a mark or anything to make Jeremy hers.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. She missed his lips instantly. Her heart sank. Was he rejecting her? At the same time her heart sped up at the force he used.

He held her hair tightly, pulling on her scalp. With the other hand, he undid the fastenings on her raincoat, nudging the big oblong buttons out of their tight loops. Not rejection, then. She’d never been so glad to be stripped in her life, because she knew he wouldn’t do it if he was pushing her away. He got the third fastening undone and pushed the coat open. Finally, he let her hair go so that he could grab both shoulders. She spread her arms back so that he could slip the coat off. For a moment, she stood there, wearing absolutely nothing.

“Mine,” said Jeremy.

“Yours,” Amanda agreed.

“’Bout time,” said Vincent. Neither Jeremy nor Amanda so much as glanced in his direction.

“I’m not playing with anyone else, Amanda. Just you.”

“Darn straight,” Amanda agreed. “You’re mine.” She grinned at him, daring him to disagree.
God, I’m a lousy sub sometimes. “
And where do you want me, Sir?”

“Over my knee.”