Dylan’s wild eyes suddenly darted to Sawyer and he motioned for him. It was a complete what the fuck moment for him and his body froze. Dylan’s eyes moved to Sarah and he nodded, prompting her to take Sawyer’s hand and guide him to the center stage.

“You’re up, Sawyer,” Dylan stated.

A knot rose in his throat and he shook his head adamantly. He didn’t want any part of harming Isabel, regardless if it was something that she got off on. He backed away and put his hand up. “Don’t ask me to hurt Isabel. I won’t do that. I can’t.”

Isabel’s feminine voice resonated over the music. “It’s okay, Sawyer. Dylan won’t let you hurt me beyond what I can handle. I trust you implicitly, as does Dylan,” she panted out, still winded from Dylan’s whipping.

Maybe Isabel trusted him, but Sawyer wasn’t sure he trusted himself. What if he liked it? What if hurting a woman appealed to him?

“Try to forget all the social norms you’ve been spoon fed, Sawyer. Push all the things you’ve been told about sadism out of your head and the stigma associated with it, and go with what you feel. You’ll never know if this is something you like or not unless you try it,” he spoke firmly. “Watch me. Like this: relax your wrist and pace your movements slowly.” He demonstrated what he had done before and lightly snapped the cat-o-nine tails on Isabel’s glistening right thigh. “Your motions should be smooth and fluid; the weapon a part of you; like the talons on an eagle. You can do it, Morrison, and don’t worry; neither I nor Isa will be offended if you’re turned on.”

Dylan’s prompt and statement caused Sawyer’s defenses to slowly subside. Hesitantly taking the whip in his left hand, his palms became clammy and a trickle of sweat ran down between his shoulder blades. He couldn’t believe he was really going through with it. Dylan stood back, giving him room to wield the calfskin. Closing his eyes, he drew in a long steady breath through his nose and blew it out his mouth. Just focus, Morrison, he repeated to himself.

Bringing up the cat midair he paused, his eyes taking note of the light sheen of sweat that had built up on Isabel’s petite form, but finally snapped the end of the leather across her stomach lightly; so light there was no reaction on Isabel’s part. Even though it had barely touched her, something about what he was doing just didn’t feel right. He did it three more times over her thighs just to make sure he wasn’t being too quick to call judgment, but the same feeling was there, or lack thereof. Sure he felt in control, but there was no excitement in what he was doing and no sexual arousal. The only thing he felt was that it wasn’t for him. But the way Isabel was responding, Sawyer became aware that it wasn’t only about his needs, but hers.

He moved behind her and as he slowly became more comfortable with the whip, he stroked her body at a more rapid pace until Isabel’s moans became louder. When he sensed that Isabel was near orgasm, he looked to Dylan who promptly came over and fingered her to release. When everything was said and done, he dropped the whip to the floor with a resounding thud and a prevailing sense of relief filled him.

Turning to face Dylan, he let out a loud sigh of relief and spoke. “Thanks for the invite, but that,” he gestured with his head to the cat lying on the floor, “is not for me.”

Dylan smiled knowingly as he unshackled Isabel and cradled her in his arm. “So you’re not a sadist. I guessed as much. Even still, Isa thanks you for going through with it. Isn’t that right, pussycat? Now be a good girl and thank Sawyer.”

Isa was still in her subspace high, her body shivering as she turned to face Sawyer, instantly doing as her Master had asked.

“Thank you, Sawyer,” her voice shook and her teeth chattered.

Dylan carried Isabel away, murmuring his praises in her ear while Sawyer began to pace the floor, stunned with everything that had played out. If Young assumed he wasn’t a sadist, then why the hell did he insist he whip Isabel? Was this some sort of fucked up test of his resolve?

While Dylan delivered aftercare to Isa, he became more irate with every passing minute. When Dylan finally approached, Sawyer huffed, “If you suspected I was no sadist, why the hell did you make me do that?”

“Because now you know for yourself and you’ll never wonder again.”

God, Sawyer hated when Dylan was right. He was so damned smug about it, too. He shook his head and his mouth ruffled into a sarcastic grin. Typical, fucking, Young.

* * *

Back at his condo, Sawyer showered and made himself dinner. The afternoon had been more stimulating than he had expected and his earlier reluctance now seemed completely unwarranted. Sarah’s luminous eyes flashed in his mind. She had the most seductive shade of blue he had ever seen, like a blue flame sky. Perhaps it was just the club setting, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. His cock began to harden as his mind wandered to all the things he wanted to do while staring into those eyes. Suddenly the flame of desire was doused by guilt.

Tired of thinking of Sonya and the what if’s, he picked up his phone and dialed her number. He hadn’t spoken with her in nearly a month, but he needed to tell her everything that had happened.

“Sawyer,” she answered.

“Lady Sonya, how are you?”

“Busy. We’re getting ready for a show at the gallery. Have you spoken with Isabel? She’s agreed to supply four paintings, but I haven’t been able to get in contact with her. I think she’s still mad at me.”

Sawyer smiled. Isabel had initially set the two up and she had voiced her displeasure with Sonya’s decision to put things on hold and her less than enthusiastic attitude toward all things BDSM. Isabel was protective of him and though it was often annoying at times, it was also nice knowing that she cared. Of course, it was her protective nature that had gotten her into the whole mess with her father over a year ago.

Sonya’s voice became distant as he recalled that horrible night again; Isabel confronting her father and the shit storm that came after. He often wondered what would’ve happened if he and Dylan hadn’t shown up that fateful night. That would’ve been an even worse mess to clean up than simply killing Emilio and Simons. As fragile as Isabel’s psyche was, he had no doubt she never would’ve recovered if she had taken the same action herself.

“Are you still there?” Sonya asked, breaking through Sawyer’s thoughts.

“Yes, I’m here. It’s just good to hear your voice. If Isabel agreed to four paintings, I’m sure she’ll follow through with her commitment, but I’ll have her call you to verify.”

“I’ve missed you’re voice, too,” she sighed, her once loving tone gone and replaced by something else; distance and dejection.

Had so much time passed that she had gotten over him already? Feeling forlorn at the thought, he let out a long slow breath.

“I went to the Dark Asylum today.” As the words left his mouth, his nerves tensed.

There was a quiet pause before Sonya responded blandly. “So you went through with it then. How did that go?”

“It was interesting and… educational, to say the least. I learned a lot in one day. I wish you had been there to learn with me.”

“We’ve been through this. I’m not ready for… that. I’m not even sure I ever will be. That lifestyle… it’s just so…” she answered in a grudging tone.

He interrupted before she could say the judgmental words he hoped she would never say. He wanted to live the lifestyle with her… if only she would consider the possibility. “Please don’t, Sonya, don’t do that. Don’t judge.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying not to. I know how much it means to you. I also know how important Dylan and Isabel are to you. I just hope they’re not influencing you to do something that goes against who you really are.”

Sawyer shook his head. The conversation was turning out to be a replay of what they had discussed months before and the unwelcome tension stretched ever tighter between them.

His voice took on a strong, disciplinarian tone. “I’m not easily influenced, Sonya, and no one can make me do anything I don’t want. But you already know that, don’t you?”

She remained silent, not answering and the chill between them seemed to grow. Damn her silence. It was only one of a few things about her that drove him insane.

“Answer me, please,” he urged her.

“You won’t like the answer I have for you.” Now her voice was curt and patronizing.

“Can we not do this? I just wanted to talk to you; to tell you that…” he debated whether or not to speak his true feelings but remembered what Sarah had mentioned about open communication. “I want you to be a part of my life and this new experience.”

He could hear a soft gasp of surprise on the other end of the phone. “Sawyer… wow.”

Chuckling at her response and also surprised by his own admission, he countered, “Yeah, I know. It’s a lot to take in isn’t it? I’m trying to be more open. It’s one of the things that I learned today.”

“I see. What else did you learn?”

Sonya suddenly became interested and Sawyer cheered up when he detected thawing in her frigid tone. “That I’m not a sadist.”

“Well that’s good to hear,” she laughed incredulously. “Did you ever have any doubt about that?”

“Honestly, yes.”

“Oh. Well… I don’t quite know how to respond to that. Did you ever want to hurt me?” she asked with anxiety in her soft voice.

“No. Did I ever lead you to believe that I wanted to?”

“No. Never. It’s just strange that you weren’t sure.” It was hard not to detect the note of bewilderment in Sonya’s tone.

“If you knew my past, not really,” he stated, suddenly realizing his almost admission.

“I don’t know about your past. You never shared anything. Or have you forgotten about that?”

Reeling from the sting of Sonya’s statement, he shook his head and sighed. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”

He sat wordless, waiting for her next response. He almost wished she would ask about his past so he could be free from his secrets and not be forced to do it on his own, but she didn’t. After sitting for more than a minute in silence, Sawyer spoke with hopefulness in his voice.

“Can I see you? I’d like the chance to talk you into coming to the club with me.”

Sonya let out a heavy sigh and he could hear the sound of her moistening her lips. Would she go? The silence was deafening and his heart sank.

“Maybe. I can’t make you any promises right now, but this new, more open Sawyer is definitely an improvement, so… we’ll see.”

Chapter 4