“You’re new, aren’t you? Bet you’re suffering from the ‘ordinary people don’t play like this syndrome.” Jessica’s eyes lit with laughter. “Try this on for size. I’m an accountant.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Can’t get stodgier.” Considering, Jessica tapped her lips. “Kari’s a schoolteacher; Andrea owns a cleaning business, Beth a landscaping biz. Sally’s getting her master’s degree, Uzuri over there is an executive in a department store, and Rainie manages a tow-truck chain.”

Linda leaned back in disbelief. Regular jobs; regular people. And why not? Why should she think they’d be odd? She pulled in a breath, feeling like an idiot. How many times had she unthinkingly accepted her father’s narrow-minded opinions as truth—in this case, that anyone wanting more than the missionary position must be creepy? “Thank you. That helps.”

“Hey, we’ve all been at that place,” Jessica said.

“Uh-oh, Linda.” Gabi waggled her eyebrows. “You’ve been spotted by the man, Ms. Shopkeeper. Are you going to run?”

Even though her stomach suddenly felt as if she’d swallowed every butterfly in Florida, Linda assumed a haughty expression…and carefully didn’t look around. “You children might run, but I’m too mature to give in to fear.”

“You’re so full of bullshit.” Kim glanced over her shoulder. “Yep, the sadist has his eyes on you.” She shivered. “Sorry, but he still scares me a little.”

Like a hot spotlight centered upon her, his attention made her insides quiver. Breathe. Look dignified. Relax. When she unclenched her fingers, they were gooey—she’d totally squashed the pizza roll she’d picked up. With a huffed laugh, she wiped off her fingers. Way to look indifferent, dummy.

A glance at the others revealed Kim trying to smother her laughter and Gabi smiling encouragement.

Jessica gave her a covert thumbs-up. “Stay strong and make him work for it.”

Why did she feel as if she’d dived off a mile-high cliff and was about to hit the water? With a final gulp of air, Linda turned her head.

Ice-blue eyes trapped her gaze. She realized she’d risen to her feet. Heavens, how does he do that? Even from a distance, she could see how suppressed laughter made his mouth quirk. He curved his index finger. Come here.

Well, this was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

It’s just a test. To see what was what. Maybe.

But as she walked up to him, the warmth in his gaze made her feel…beautiful.

Chapter Ten

Was she not the most beautiful woman in the club? Resting his hip on a bar stool, Sam watched Linda approach. Her brown eyes were wide, nervous, but not terrified. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth. He held out his hand, pleased when she didn’t hesitate to give him hers. Soft skin, small bones. “Why are you here, girl?”

“I-I…” Her chin firmed. “I’m trying to decide if being…different…has a place in my life.”

“Different.” Pissed him off the way she saw being unique as being wrong. “Are you talking about being a masochist? Or being a singer? Or a submissive? Or smarter than most? Or maybe being talented at basketry?”

Her spine straightened. “It’s not a joke.”

“I’m not joking.” He curved his hand firmly around her nape as he’d done with Uzuri. Linda instinctively tried to take a step back. When his grip tightened, halting her, he enjoyed the hell out of the way she shivered.

Then he watched as she didn’t move, yet silently, internally fought his control.

And he watched as she surrendered. To him.

When he leaned down and took her lips, not permitting her to withdraw, her mouth softened and opened.

My Linda. He pulled her between his legs and molded her so tightly against him that her full breasts flattened against his chest. Amazing how different one woman could feel from another. Why the hell did they all want to be alike? “Cut out all the different parts of yourself, and your personality will have the texture of mashed potatoes.”

She blinked, then burst out laughing.

Damn, he liked her laugh. “What?”

“Just…aren’t you a meat and potatoes sort of guy?”

Had him there. When she rubbed her forehead on his shoulder, he remembered how sweetly she’d snuggled against him in the night. She was a person who liked to touch.

She looked up at him, her eyes serious. “My dad was a fire-and-brimstone preacher, and my husband old-fashioned. My town is small and conservative. This isn’t easy for me, but I’m trying.”

“Good enough.” He put his hand under her chin, feeling the softness of her flesh. Older, not tight and hard, and she was so goddamned appealing she could break his heart. He didn’t require some eighteen-year-old to make his cock hard. He wanted a woman, one with lines in her face that said she’d done some living and had learned to cry. And to laugh.

A tiny trembling ran through her when she met his gaze, and the chemistry between them blazed up like dry wood in a wind. “Remember the safe word here?”

Her tongue touched her pink lips. “Red.”

“Good.” He ran his finger across her lower lip, circling her mouth with the wetness. “I’m glad you didn’t wear a mask, girl. I like to see more than your body. Don’t wear one again.”

A tremor ran through her, and a glint of fear showed in her eyes before she whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

Her trust sent warmth through him. “Good girl.” So what area was available for a scene? Releasing Linda from his arms, he checked. The stocks were free or…the picture frame was empty. “Cullen.”

The bartender looked over.

“Can you grab my bag?”

Cullen set a bottled mineral water in front of a Domme, then reached under the bar and brought out Sam’s leather toy bag. “Have fun, you two.”

“Thanks.” Sam took a grip on Linda’s nape again. “Come along, girl.” As the heavy silk of her hair flowed over his fingers, he caught her clean lavender-and-tangy-citrus scent. Made him want to pick her up and rub her skin over his.

But he could wait.

He led her to a wooden structure built like an extra-tall and double-wide door frame. “Cullen calls this the picture frame because of the way it displays a submissive.”

She eyed the chains and bolts studded around the inside of the frame, then glanced back toward the bar. “He’s not as easygoing as he acts, is he?”

“Last submissive who annoyed him got strapped to the bar.” With a bucket of ice cubes beside her for anyone that wanted to play. He grinned, remembering the sub’s appalled shrieks.

He glanced down at his redhead. Might as well give her a few choices in the game—or let her think she was getting some. After setting his bag on a chair, Sam started unzipping the inside dividers. Opened the one for the toys. Clamps, yes. Gags or blindfold? No. Why deprive himself of hearing her screams, of seeing tears in her eyes? That section stayed closed.

After moving a rectangular tray table beside the chair, he told Linda, “Set out what’s in the bag.” He touched one end of the table. “The toys you’d most like me to use go here. Work your way to the other end and your least favorite toys. If something is a hard limit, leave it in the bag.”

A sweet crease of worry appeared between her red-brown brows. “And you’ll start at the good end and work your way through to the bad?”

“Nope.” He stepped close enough that her breasts grazed his chest, and she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. “Just lets me know what will bother you and what won’t. I choose what. And when.”

“But—”

He smiled into her vulnerable eyes. “Trust me to know how much you can take, missy. And to push you to that point.”

Even as the hint of anxiety appeared in her eyes, her nipples contracted to hard points.

As the beast inside him stirred and raised its head, he stepped back. “Get started.”

While he worked on attaching chains to the proper bolts, he watched her pick and choose.

She put a thick cane midway, a lighter one closer to the good side. The heavy flogger was good; the one with knotted ends went to the bad side. His favorite short snake whip was considered. Put close to the bad end. Moved to the other side. Moved again. Was there anything more appetizing than a submissive’s uncertainty? He’d definitely give her a taste of that whip, no matter where it ended up on the table.

When she pulled out the coiled six-footer, he said, “No, baby. There’s not enough space in here to play with that one.” She nodded and dropped it into the bag, coming out with a crop. A Wartenberg wheel. A vampire glove. Finally she finished.

After setting up the top restraints, Sam adjusted the lower chains so he could spread her legs. “Come here.”

As she chewed her lower lip, he savored her hesitation, seeing her anticipation of the pain that would eventually take her to the height of pleasure, no matter how much the initial lash stung. His anticipation rose as well, since watching her ride that first bite of pain would give him an equally sized rush.

When she stood inside the picture frame, he untied her halter top and tossed it onto his bag. He was already hard, but the sight of her full breasts made his cock lengthen to serious discomfort, an interesting type of erotic ache. Pulling her into his arms, he ground his chest against her bare breasts, feeling her nipples contract back into stabbing points.

Her eyes were wide with nerves, and he could see the golden flecks that lightened the rich brown. Her lips were parted and inviting, so he fisted her hair, tipped her head back, and took her lips, demanding all he wanted from her mouth. At least for now. Damn but he’d missed kissing her and how she gave him everything, holding back nothing.

When he lifted his head, her fingers had dug into his back to hold him closer.

“I like the way you kiss, girl.” His voice came out gruff.

She pinkened at the compliment. So sweet.

Time to push that giving nature of hers. He untied the side band of her skirt, tugging hard at the laces to drive home that she would soon be naked, without the most basic of defenses.

He tossed the skirt on his bag, followed by her panties. After using his boot to push her feet apart, he ran his hand between her legs. Not cruelly, simply a Dom’s inspection that his submissive had kept herself groomed for his enjoyment.

His fingers met smooth, bare skin, already slick. Nice. Nothing there to cushion a blow. He rubbed his knuckles over her mound. “Good girl.”

Although she was aroused and wet, her muscles tensed and her gaze dropped.

Gently, Davies. She’d been traumatized. Brutalized. Made into an object. He had to ride a path between dominance and abuse, and in her case, it was a goddamned narrow trail. So he enfolded her in his arms for a comforting hug and a reminder. “Your safe word is red. Do you remember?”

Her muscles relaxed, and she nodded.

“Good.” He rubbed his chin on her smooth hair. “If I ask you how you’re doing, green means keep going. Yellow means slow down, or that you can’t take whatever I’m using on you at the time.”

She nodded again.

He might also ask her who he was so she’d remember she wasn’t with the bad guys. And hell, he simply liked the way she said his name as if he was goddamned John Wayne.

“All right.” After fastening padded Velcro cuffs on her wrists, he snapped them to the overhead chains. The ankle cuffs and chains spread her legs wide apart. Then he tightened the arm restraints until her body was stretched nice and taut. Didn’t want her to wiggle and spoil his aim. A shame he couldn’t use his favorite single-tail, but Z rarely cordoned off space for the longer bullwhips.

Smiling into Linda’s eyes, Sam flattened his hand over her exposed pussy, enjoying her startled response. Enjoying the increasing slickness coating his palm. “I’ve only given you pleasure here before. Tonight your pussy will get a sample of pain as well.”

She swallowed so hard that he could hear the gulp.

Yep, this was going to be fun. As he kissed her, plunging his tongue deep, he cupped her ass with one hand and used his other hand to push his finger into her hot, wet cunt. Using the ball of his hand, he ground down on her clit as he thrust in and out. His tongue kept pace, driving her arousal higher. He could almost hear her endorphins start to dance.

He abandoned her pussy to rub her back firmly, letting the abrasiveness of his calloused palms rouse her tender skin. Another kiss and one more, simply for his enjoyment.