Damaged Goods Read online

  Brice paid them little attention, his focus still on his target. She headed straight for the main desk, and he hung back to see what she would check in as. In this section of the club, safety was king, and it was members-only. Every person who joined had to pass a strict screening that included background checks, a psych evaluation and a clean medical screening, the last of which had to be renewed every three months.

  The check-in area looked a lot like a coat check you’d find in most any high-end restaurant. In a way, it was. Subs and Doms alike turned in all personal items there to be picked up when they left. What was different about this coat check was when you traded in your belongings you got either a collar or an armband instead of a ticket stub. Doms got armbands, subs got a collar.

  Brice relaxed and leaned against the doorframe while he waited as the slender redhead traded in her sparkling gold bag. He couldn’t have been more thrilled when the young woman behind the counter handed back a collar.

  “Why is this one yellow?” he heard her ask.

  “Because you’re not a first timer anymore,” Brice answered from where he stood. She jumped and turned to him, and Brice got a look at her from the front for the first time.

  She had eyes that seemed to swallow up her heart-shaped face. They were as green as spring grass, and Brice took a moment to admire their beauty before he went on. Her features were delicate, with a small nose, high cheekbones and a slight dimple in her slightly rounded chin. She had a luscious mouth that was painted a glossy peach, and he wanted nothing more than to take a bite. He’d already noticed that she was taller than average and slender, and now he saw that although slim, she was not lacking in curves.

  “The red collar is only for a sub’s first three visits. I take it this is your fourth visit?” He didn’t need her nod or the, “Yes it is, Master Brice” from Candy, the check-in girl, to let him know he was right. It was all there in her expression.

  He kept his eyes on her as he stepped forward and walked behind the counter. A quick look at the collar clutched in her hands assured him she wasn’t already taken. A claimed sub had cuffs attached to her collar, or at least a chain. This one had neither. With a nod to Candy conveying she should keep an eye on the sub for him, he went to stow his things and get his band.

  He wasn’t gone for a minute, but he was still impressed that she hadn’t moved at all while waiting. It boded well for what he had in mind. Her eyes fixated on the black band he now had on his bicep as he rounded the counter and approached her.

  “Eyes down, sub,” he said as he took the collar from her fingers and clasped it on her slender neck. When she instinctively tried to step back and didn’t lower her eyes, he gathered the hair at her nape and held tight. He applied stronger and stronger pressure until she gave a small gasp and arched into his grip. “I know you are new, but even with only three nights here, you would have been taught the basics.” He watched her for signs of reluctance or discomfort as she struggled to obey him.

  What he saw was a strong, independent young woman who was having trouble coming to terms with the submissive side of her nature. Her pupils were dilated, there was a flush in her cheeks and her lips were parted and moist. All signs that she was aroused by what was happening. She also had her fists clenched and her eyebrows wrinkled in a frown. That showed him that she was not quite comfortable with the knowledge that this was exciting her.

  It was just the combination of emotions that a Dom found irresistible. At least a Dom like him. Here was a woman who had a whole world of discovery ahead of her. The thought of all the firsts that she had yet to experience was a heady rush.

  “You know,” he said in a mild voice, “there are Doms out there who like subs already trained and broken in. Subs who know the rules and will bend and yield to their Will readily and easily.” He smiled and tightened his grip on her hair. “I am not that kind of Dom.”

  Terryn gulped and tried not to squeak. This guy was seriously hot. He had to be over six feet, with dark hair, chocolate-brown eyes and a great face. It was classic, she thought, and so beautifully male it made her think of men like Cary Grant and Rock Hudson, back when tall, dark and handsome was really tall and dark and handsome.

  Here he was, movie-star perfect, and he was a Master. A Master who had her by the hair. Terryn wondered if maybe she was home in bed, because this had to be a dream.

  “Um.” Terryn wasn’t sure if she was allowed to speak or not, but she risked it. “I have had some training.” He quirked an eyebrow at her in an expression that spoke volumes, and she finally lowered her eyes and added, “Sir. Um, Master?” Something in her chest warmed when he chuckled and released her hair.

  “Come with me, little sub, and you can tell me just what kind of training you’ve had so far.” He turned and walked toward the lounge area.

  She risked a quick look at Candy, who’d been very helpful and nice on her previous visits. Candy gave her a smile and thumbs-up that Terryn decided was approval of the Dom. Then she hurried after him, with eyes down. She only lowered them as far as it took to watch the way the muscles in his rear moved and flexed as he walked. The man had one fine rearview.

  “Sub.” Terryn jumped in surprise when he spoke over his shoulder, “Eyes on the floor.”

  With a guilty blush that she felt staining her cheeks, she peeked up to see him watching her through one of the mirrors on the wall. “Oops,” she said, and this time lowered her eyes all the way and followed him to a deep burgundy chair.

  The chair was plush and inviting and looked big enough to hold a family of four…until he sat in it. All of a sudden, there wasn’t enough room for her. He was solidly built, and he sat sprawled in the middle of the chair with his legs stretched out. The position left only inches on either side of him to spare.

  Terryn took a deep breath. This is what she wanted. This is what she was looking for. She’d been reading about the D/s lifestyle for months, and now it was happening. She took a deep breath, wrestled her inner feminist to the ground and knelt at his feet.

  It was harder than she thought it would be. That inner feminist was screeching at her to get up off the floor, she wasn’t a dog, and the harder she tried to ignore that voice, the louder it got. But she stayed. She remembered her reading and her first couple visits and spread her knees wide, then brought her hands to rest, palms up on her thighs.

  Her Dom didn’t say a word as she knelt there. She was keeping her eyes down, so she could not see his face, but she knew he was watching her. She felt it. As she concentrated on that, on his attention, that voice eventually faded until she couldn’t hear it anymore. She became solely focused outside herself and whether or not he was pleased.

  Just when she was going to risk a look, she felt his hand on her hair. He stroked softly along the curls and then he gathered them up and off to one shoulder. His fingers lightly caressed her neck above the collar, then he traced circles over the shell of her ear. Goose bumps chased up and down her back as he continued a tickling path along her check with those blunt, calloused fingertips.

  “Is this the first time you’ve knelt at a Dom’s feet?” His voice caused more goose bumps, and Terryn could only nod as she waited for what would happen next. “We’ve only just met, and I have to assume this is your first unescorted visit here. I would never dream of asking you to trust me this soon. But you’ve read the rules and you’ve been through the orientation. You can also look around and see the bodyguards that are here for your protection. Trust that. Trust what you’ve learned so far and we will stay to the open play areas so you can be assured that the club will keep you safe.” He gave her a couple moments to think about that, and the rest of the tension left her.

  “You make a pretty picture there at my feet. Pretty enough that I’m the envy of every Dom here tonight. But we need to talk, and I find that talking is better done face-to-face. Come up here.” She started to get to her feet, but before she could move, his hands scooped under her arms and he lifted her into his lap as though she w
eighed less than nothing.

  After she was settled with her bottom on the seat on one side of him and her legs on the other, he draped his arms around her waist and asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Terryn.” She kept her eyes down. Only now she did it because she was too embarrassed to look him in the face. Terryn hadn’t sat in a man’s lap since her last visit to Santa.

  “Terryn,” he said. “Lovely. How did you discover that you were a submissive?”

  Talk about getting right to the point, she thought. “Um. Well. I never have really enjoyed being with men, really,” she said, and then stumbled to a halt when she realized how that sounded. “I’m not gay. I mean, I like boys. Um, guys. I mean, men. I like men. But, urgh.” With a groan of pure humiliation, she buried her face in her hands and wished fervently that she could slide back onto the floor and then slink away. His chuckle and the warm hand rubbing soothing circles on her back did little to ease her mortification. “This wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “Really?” he asked, his voice soft and smooth in her ear. “How was it supposed to be?”

  “I’ve been fantasizing about this moment for months. I’ve pictured myself with my first real Dom a million different ways, and in those dreams I never stammer like an idiot.” With another groan, she crumpled up further and brought her knees up.

  Just as she was about to fold into a ball of misery, he turned her face to him with a hand on her chin. He was smiling. She liked his smile. He smiled with his whole face, not just his mouth. There were fine lines in the corner of his eyes that deepened as his whole expression lifted. He had great teeth and lips that were full without looking like they belonged on a girl. Just a simple smile from him, and she felt her spirits lighten.

  “Well, your dreams differ from mine, then. As for me, having a beautiful, blushing, redheaded sub cuddled in my lap is right up there on my list of dreams come true.” His smile deepened, and that warm place in her chest got warmer and her embarrassment melted under the heat of it. “Now, you were saying that you like men?”

  Terryn rallied and tried again. “I like men. It’s just that when I was with them it was mostly boring. I mean, sometimes it was good. But for the most part, I just thought there was something wrong with me because I could never…” She was blushing again. Terryn gave herself a mental push and blurted it out. “Come. I could never come and I almost always faked it. ’Cause, I mean, it’s not the guy’s fault, right? I’d feel sorry for them. They would try, but I just couldn’t do it.” She let out a big breath and tried very hard to look like she was comfortable having this kind of conversation with a perfect stranger.

  “Terryn.” His voice was a little deeper now. It had an unmistakably disciplinarian tone to it. “The first rule in this is trust. The D/s balance is delicate, and there has to be complete honesty.” His hands tightened on her and his voice got deeper yet. “You will never fake an orgasm again. Are we clear?” Terryn nodded and tried not to squirm.

  “Good,” he said. “I’m glad we understand each other on that. So, you found vanilla sex boring. What happened to make you look into BDSM instead of, say, swinging or exploring with women?”

  “I read a lot. I like romance novels.” She waited for him to say something disparaging about chick-lit, and when he remained silent she took encouragement from that and went on, “I noticed a pattern. If the hero of the story was strong and even overbearing, I loved it. The ones where the men were soft and sweet, I couldn’t stand.” He smiled at that, and she continued, “Seriously, I read one where the man was all flowers and poetry and soft tender love scenes and I thought I was going to puke. Give me a hero who’s only two steps up from carrying a club and I can’t get enough.” He chuckled again and brought one of her hands to his mouth.

  As he nibbled on her fingers one at a time, he asked, “So, you thought you’d see if you enjoy a Neanderthal in reality as much as you do in fiction?” He waited until she nodded before he asked, “Who brought you on your first three visits, and why aren’t they here for your fourth?”

  “A friend of mine is a member. She’s also a sub and kind of new to this. She loves it and told me that I wouldn’t be sorry. She gave me some hands-on instruction and has been answering all my questions. I lucked out with her because she’s been great. My first three visits, it was just the two of us, and we just watched other peoples’ scenes so I could see what it was like and make sure I was ready for this. Tonight she brought a date along.”

  As he leisurely nibbled his way along her palm, it became harder and harder to remember what she was talking about. “We were all dancing in the club area first to get warmed up before we headed back here. They were going to help me find a Dom and then they were going to keep an eye on me. We had agreed that she was going to watch me through my first scene.”

  Her breath caught as those lips and teeth found a particularly sensitive spot. “Then they decided they wanted privacy instead of the club and left.” He raised a brow at that, and Terryn rushed to reassure him before he judged her friend. “I wasn’t mad. We all talked about it, and they would have been cool if I wanted them to stay. She really likes this guy, though, and I didn’t blame her for wanting to be with him instead of babysitting me.” Terryn’s voice was softer and softer as she spoke, getting lost in the feel of his mouth on her hand. His tongue was tracing tiny patterns on her palm now.

  “I was supposed to leave too.” She shrugged when his eyes snapped to her. There was a frown on his face and he nipped hard on the pad of her thumb. “I tried to leave. I was out front waiting for a cab, and I just thought, no. I’m not going to wait any longer. I’ve been reading and studying and waiting for this for what feels like my whole life. I wasn’t going to put it off for even one more night when I didn’t have to. So I sent the taxi on its way and marched right back in here.”

  She smiled at him a little sheepishly and confessed, “I was fine until I saw the yellow collar. Scared me to death. All of the sudden I thought, ‘Holy cow! I’m in for it now.’ And I was gonna go home after all. Then you walked in.”

  Terryn smiled at him and let everything she was feeling show on her face. She hoped he could see that she was still scared, but that she was open and ready and glad that he had been there. She also hoped desperately that he would remember this was her first time with a Dom and not go too hard on her.

  Chapter Four

  Brice watched the emotions drift like currents across her expressive face. He wanted to spank her fool ass for not leaving when her friend did. But he understood—hell, it was like she’d been surviving on bread and water up ’til now, and just when someone had showed her there was a whole banquet out there, they told her she had to wait before she could eat.

  He remembered the first time he’d had D/s sex. He had still been in college, and Trevor and Cade told him about a girl who had let them tie her up and both take her at the same time. He’d been so intrigued and turned on by the story that he’d looked up a BDSM club close to campus and went that same night. The club had been seedy and dank, but he’d learned a lot about who he was in that place. If someone had told him to wait and come back later, before he’d had a taste for himself, he would have ignored them too.

  But still, he told her, “You should have taken that cab. This club has some safety measures in place, but as a newcomer you are extremely vulnerable.” When he saw that she wasn’t going to agree, he decided to let it pass. “But I’m personally very glad you didn’t, so I’ll let it go.

  “Now,” he continued “I need to know what you’ve done before and what you want to do. You said you haven’t been with anyone in the club, but have you ever tried BDSM with a boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  The answer filled him with what he called his Captain Kirk glee. May not be modern, but it was what it was. He loved going where no man had gone before.

  “Ever been tied up or restrained?” When she shook her head, he said, “We’ll start there.” He scooped one arm unde
r her shoulders and the other under her knees, then stood and headed to the equipment area. Her eyes were opened wide in her anxious face. He could tell she was torn between her fear of biting off more than she could chew and excitement over what was about to happen.

  He spoke to her as he set her on her feet in front of a St. Andrew’s cross, “We are just going to try restraints for now. I want to see how you react to that before we take it any further. Tell me, have you already decided on a safe word?”

  She nodded and said the last thing he could have imagined. “Pickles.”

  The ridiculous choice made him laugh and he made a mental note to himself to find out later why she chose it. He saw that her breathing had increased, and she was back to clenching her fists. “Terryn,” he said softly, and ran a finger along her collar. “Tell me why you have a yellow collar.”

  She swallowed and gave him a look before answering, “Because I’m not new anymore.”

  “That’s a start. Go on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me why the collars are colored and what the colors mean. I need to know how much you know.”

  “Oh.” She looked like she’d just been given a pop quiz. “The red is only for your first couple visits. The yellow is for after that, and then you get a green one.”

  “And what do those colors represent?” he asked while slowly running his hands up and down her bare arms.

  “Um, the red one means that no one can touch you, you’re still learning, and the yellow means you’re ready to try. The green means you’re up for grabs.”

  He slowly shook his head and lifted first one of her arms and then the next into its restraint. “Not exactly. The yellow tells the Dom to be cautious, go slow and don’t assume this sub knows everything she should. The green tells him this sub is confident and knows what the rules are. That allows him to go forward without having to break character, so to speak.”