Brat and Master (8 page)

“I try.”

“So now what?”

It was a good question, whether she meant it in the short term or something slightly longer. Friday night in the club had been simple, contained. A scene, no more. Making out in the woods was something else entirely, and the two put together meant the one thing he sensibly should not be doing. A relationship. He couldn’t claim it was too soon after Cheri, but it was going fast. Still, it wasn’t as if they were figuring out their finances together or anything. What had happened was purely physical.

“We brazen it out,” he murmured, answering the short-term question.

The figure came closer, and it appeared to be an older man. “Nice day for a walk,” Jeremy said. Amanda gave a wave. The man grunted. The dog pulled on its master’s leash, and the man pulled back, hard. Clearly, he wasn’t happy to find a couple in
his
spot.

“We were just leaving.” Jeremy got to his feet. The moment had passed. He reached down to help Amanda to her feet. Amanda moved to her bike. He put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. Getting his own bike, he walked it back down the trail, glancing behind him to make sure Amanda was following. The old man stood in the middle of the clearing, watching them and muttering to himself.

They returned to the main path single file, and then Amanda got ready to mount her bike again. He put a hand around her waist to stop her. “I want to play with you again,” he said.

“Oh. I’d like to play with you again too.” She smiled.

He reached out and tugged on her zipper, returning it to the position it had been in while she was riding. “I like control, Amanda. Lots of it.”

He locked his gaze with her, daring her to zip it back up. She didn’t touch it. She stood there breathing.

“Master-and-slave kind of control?” she asked.

FOR A MOMENT Jeremy looked at Amanda like a deer caught in headlights. Finally, he answered
.
“I don’t know you that well. Let’s go slow.”

Amanda wasn’t sure what to make of his answer. She had friends who were very happy in intense, 24-7 relationships where they were expected to obey at all times. Her own experience was that after a night or two at the club, the last thing she wanted was anything to do with BDSM. It was great in short, intense bursts, and then she needed to snuggle with her cat. She pressed on. “But that’s where you want to get to, eventually?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have an eventually. I’m living in the now. And I want to do wicked things to you.”

Wicked things.
That sounded promising. “And if I give you control, what will you do?” She moved closer to him until her chest bumped against his.

“Maybe it’s time you told me about your limits,” he said.

He’d dodged the question, but obviously he needed to know. “No scat or water sports or any of that gross stuff. No needles. No marks where my clothes don’t cover. I’m trying to get a new job, and I need to be able to make a good impression. Nothing, um, permanent.”

“Those are all limits most people have. I want to know who
you
are.”

“You want me to tell you what I’m scared of.”
Single tails. Fire. Knives.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Tell me one thing.”

“I don’t want you to use it against me.”

“You’ll have to trust me.”

“I don’t really even know you.” Amanda turned her head.

Jeremy tucked a finger under her chin and turned her back. “One thing, Amanda.”

She felt unable to resist. But she rejected each thing she thought of in turn. Her heart beat faster. She had to tell him something or run away. She didn’t want to run.

“I’m afraid of being alone,” she blurted. Which wasn’t the sort of thing she had wanted to say at all.

Jeremy pulled her in and kissed her hard. The force of it took her breath away. She intertwined her tongue with his and held on.

He let go at last. “Is that why you went to find someone to play with last night after I left you? Not because you were unsatisfied, but because you hate being alone?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I didn’t find someone to play with. I curled up in a couch with my friend Callie, and we shared stories and griped to each other for a bit, and then I went home. I don’t even know why I said that, about being alone. I live alone. I’m happy. It’s just when we’re talking about kinky stuff, that’s what I hate. The idea that the person I’m with is going to walk away and just find someone else, as if I’m a replaceable part. I’m afraid of drop.”

“I see.” His voice was neutral.

She searched his eyes for meaning until she got it. “That’s totally what I did to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes. In a way. But at the same time I triggered it by leaving you so quickly, didn’t I? I have no good excuse for that, either. I imagine that what you said to me was a form of self-protection. Telling me I’m replaceable is a way of deadening the pain of being deserted.”

“Or a way of throwing the first punch.”

He nodded. “Or that, yes. Do you like resistance play?”

Amanda grinned. “Love it.”

“Thought you might.”

In resistance play, the bottom got to struggle and even try to escape the top. The few times she’d done it, she felt this buzz at being subdued and conquered. Although there was that one time when she’d split open Percival’s lip. It didn’t always go well. But Jeremy had been able to easily subdue her as he tickled her. He was clearly strong and agile. Even with his bike in the wrong gear, he’d been able to catch up to her. Yeah, resistance play with Jeremy could be fun.

He leaned over again, and Amanda hoped he was about to kiss her. His lips carried an almost electrical charge. It was more than hunger. Lots of people were enthusiastic, but Jeremy gave the impression that he was fully there when he kissed in a way she hadn’t remembered anyone else being. She couldn’t wait to do it again.

“We should definitely play again. My house?” asked Jeremy.

Amanda wanted to. One on one sounded wonderful. But she barely knew him, and there were risks. She didn’t think he was a serial killer or anything, but he was definitely stronger than her and things could go bad in a hurry. “No. Maybe the club?”

“I could become a member, couldn’t I?”

“Or you could go as my guest.” As soon as she said it, she recognized the impulse. As a member, he could go anytime he wanted and play with anyone. As her guest, he was dependent on her. A real submissive, she supposed, wouldn’t want to control her dom that way. But she wanted Jeremy all to herself for a while. That was why she had chased after a newbie dom in the first place. Although Jeremy hadn’t turned out to be one.

“I don’t think that would suit either of us, do you?” Jeremy smiled. “I’ll buy a membership. I can afford it. Tonight, then. First, we finish our ride.”

“Tonight. Already?”

“Do you have plans?”

She shook her head. “No plans except to look cute and hope to hook up with someone at the club for a bit, and I guess the hooking-up part has been solved.”

Jeremy nodded. “It has indeed.” He got on his bike. “Farther in or back?”

She strapped her helmet on again. “Back, I think.” She’d sweated enough. Besides, there was a chance of more enjoyable exercise later. She wondered what he had in store for her. Perhaps she should negotiate further, the way she usually did, and make sure it was something she enjoyed. She weighed that against the pleasure of letting him take the lead and decided she’d rather take her chances. He’d heard her hard limits. In the club, she’d have people watching over her. If he tried to push it to some strange place, it would tell her she’d been right not to go to his home. If not, well, at some point she might want to play with him in private. Everything in the club was partially for show, which could be exciting but lacked intimacy.

He put his helmet back on. This time he took the lead, setting a challenging pace. She supposed he may have gotten misconceptions from the way she had sped off before. Then, she had been driven by an impish desire to make him chase. Biking was something she considered herself good at. Now, however, it meant that she had to bend over and put her heart into what would normally be a gentle return trip. She felt odd about the amount of cleavage she was showing too, although he had returned the zipper to exactly the place she had it before. The message he was sending was clear.
You can be a brat or a tease. But you have to back it up.

You’ll see, Sir. I can. You won’t be disappointed, and I’ll be worth the chase.

Chapter Four

Amanda looked up at the giant clock that had been installed over the entrance to the dungeon room. Cell phones had recently been banned at Excess, and lots of people, including Amanda, relied on a cell phone instead of using a watch. So Gray had put in the three-foot-wide clock. Nine twenty-five. Jeremy had said he’d meet her at nine thirty. She stood in the gallery, at the spot where she could see the door, and tried not to stare too obviously in that direction. Her eyes flicked over the scenes in the middle—a spanking, a single-tail demonstration—without any particular interest.

She’d gone through a half-dozen outfits before settling on one. Debated between shaving her pussy and leaving it natural. She didn’t know anything about what Jeremy would like. She’d searched for a profile on a popular fetish site where she often researched new people and had come back empty. She’d had blind dates where she knew more details about her partner.

In the end she’d set the razor aside and had decided to go basic black. She had on a short cocktail dress, heels, and thigh-high stockings. Beneath, for him to discover, were matching black lace and panties, and a garter belt. The hem of the dress showed off glimpses of thigh and suspenders when she moved.

“Amanda,” said a husky male voice behind her.

She didn’t have to turn to find out who it was. The last “steady” dom she’d had, Blackie. Blackie had made her swear off relationships for a while, preferring the occasional play partner. It had been hot for a while. But every date they’d had, Blackie had pushed farther until Amanda was outside her comfort zone. As far as Blackie was concerned, a safe word was the end of a relationship. It had been exciting at first, to know she had no easy out. But then she had waited too long to say the word while her hands were going numb from the tightness of the rope around her wrists. If Master Vincent hadn’t interfered with the scene when he saw her hands turning blue and her grimacing in pain from the way the rope around her shoulder pinched her nerve, she could have been seriously hurt.

“What do you want, Blackie?” said Amanda coldly.

He put a hand on her shoulder, his fingers touching the bare flesh exposed by the wide neckline. “You,” he said.

That touch once thrilled her. For a moment, she felt it again. Then it was replaced by a chill that ran far deeper. She turned around, shrugging off his hand. “Real doms don’t break their toys.”

Blackie was broad with long, dark hair. He wore a motorcycle jacket over a white T-shirt. Confusion ran over Blackie’s face. “What do you mean?”

He thinks I’m talking about a flogger. I mean me.
“Ask around. I’m sure you’ll find out.”

“Look, Amanda, I know you’re lonely.” He took hold of her chin and turned her face so she was looking at him directly. “I can help with that.”

In comparison to Jeremy’s touch, Blackie’s seemed so crude. Jeremy caressed; Blackie grabbed. Had she once yearned to have him touch her? She knew she had. She didn’t know why anymore.

She grabbed Blackie’s wrist, and he released her. “No, Blackie. I don’t want you anymore.”

Blackie looked as if he was tempted to touch her again, but instead he shook his hand free and glared. “Dammit, Amanda. You know we were good together.”

“We had our moments. But we were bad more than we were good. Go, Blackie.” She saw Vincent coming from behind him. Probably Vincent had been watching ever since Blackie had approached her. Blackie didn’t move. She waited. She wanted to take care of her own battles. On the other hand, if Vincent got involved, it would wrap up the problem neatly. Even though they’d never had anything but a mentor relationship, Vincent had always been good at playing the knight in shining armor.

Blackie put his hand on her shoulder again, his thumb brushing the side of her neck.

“Sorry, she’s mine tonight,” said a voice from behind her. A hand with long fingers tightened around Blackie’s wrist and squeezed. Blackie’s eyes widened. Vincent stopped his forward motion. Amanda turned around and saw Jeremy with a look on his face as cold as ice. Even though his intervention was welcome, it was the scariest expression she’d ever seen.

“Holy shit, man, you’re hurting my wrist.” Blackie grabbed Jeremy’s arm. Blackie was bigger than Jeremy by several pounds, although he was shorter.

“That’s why there’s a club safe word,” said Jeremy coldly. “And rules. You don’t touch other people’s toys without permission.”

“I didn’t—” Blackie looked at Amanda and blinked. Recognition dawned on his face. “Oh, you mean Amanda. Let me go, dammit.”

“Close enough.” Jeremy released him. Amanda pushed herself against Jeremy, trying to back his move but also putting herself in the way. She was pretty sure Blackie wouldn’t hurt her. She didn’t want a fight. And after seeing that look on Jeremy’s face, she wanted to be held very badly. He probably thought she was flirting with Blackie or something, given the way she’d acted the night before about finding other people. Hell, even the comment about not wanting to be alone played into the idea that she was an incredible slut. She wondered if he’d believe she had been innocently waiting for him.

“She’s not a t—” Blackie started and then stared at Amanda, who had been wondering whether it had all clicked in or not. “So that’s what you meant,” he finished. “Sorry. Dammit.” His face fell, and he turned and walked away.

Maybe he can learn, after all.
But she didn’t want her focus to be on Blackie. She turned and looked up at Jeremy, fearing the coldness she expected to find on his face. Instead he was simply unreadable. His arm went around her waist and held her close. He wasn’t too angry at her, at least.