Breathe (17 page)

To hell with the rules. Samantha fisted her hands on her hips and glared down at the other woman.
The nerve!
she fumed. She couldn’t blame the woman for trying—Elijah was, well, Elijah. But she was right
here
!

She looked over her shoulder and caught Elijah’s stunned expression, then registered Julien’s howl of laughter. The other submissive looked up at her, anger painted all over her face.

“Got yourself a guard dog, do you, E?” Wrinkling his nose at the woman on the ground, Julien caught one of Samantha’s hands in his and pressed a kiss to her palm. “We haven’t been properly introduced, little sub. I’m Julien Knight. I’m the manager of In Vino Veritas, and Elijah’s right-hand man. And if you come to your senses and leave him, make sure you come straight to me.”

Flustered, embarrassed, Samantha took a quick glance around before letting her eyes fall to the floor. The blond woman was still glaring at her, and the woman’s friend, a gorgeous creature with a long fall of dark curls, looked mortified.

Elijah’s expression was inscrutable, and it was fixed on Samantha.

“Charlotte, you are dismissed,” he said to the nasty blonde, keeping his eyes on Samantha the whole time, which lifted Samantha’s spirits. “I want you to find Master Luca once you go inside. Tell him that you have been very rude to my sub, and ask him to punish you however he sees fit.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened and she shook her head, her mouth open, to protest.

Elijah lifted a hand in warning. “Don’t make it worse,” he said quietly. “Now go.”

Charlotte rose and turned toward her friend, but not before she managed to send another glare at Samantha. Samantha found herself shaken, though not because of anything Charlotte had done.

She’d faced worse.

No, she was startled by the depth of her own reaction. She’d acted before thinking, something entirely out of character for her.

It was something to ponder later. Right now she would worry about how Elijah would respond to her boldness.

“You make me very happy, little cat.” Relief washed over her as Elijah enfolded her in his arms and nuzzled the side of her neck. “Not a dog, though, I don’t think. No, I have my own personal guard pussycat. I like it.”

Sliding his hands down until their fingers were entwined, he pressed a kiss to the side of Samantha’s head. She looked up at him with astonishment, and he winked at her.

“Julien, if you could arrange for our bags to be taken up, please. And stay away from my woman. If I’m ‘pussywhipped,’ as you say, then I should at least get her all to myself.”

Julien chuckled as Elijah tugged Samantha toward the front door of the club.

“Come, Sammie Cat. I find that I want to play.”

•   •   •

S
amantha followed Elijah through a heavy but fairly innocuous-looking door and into a Gothic wonderland.

The entryway was dim, lit by sconces that glowed warmly down the length of the walls. The furniture was masculine in its colors and lines, but still invited a person to sit down—to lie down—and enjoy.

“You need something here.” The artist in Samantha would have placed a large sculpture right in the entryway, a sinuous twist of glass that only hinted at the pleasure that could be found in the depths of the club. “Art of some kind.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” She caught the eyebrow that Elijah raised in her direction and blushed. First she’d initiated that embarrassing display outside, and now she was telling him how to decorate his club. What would come out of her mouth next?

“I’m sorry . . . Sir,” Samantha mumbled, looking at her feet. Her words, though, had reminded her of the sculpture that Elijah had already written her a check for. The one that she didn’t feel quite right cashing, because, as separate as they had decided their agreements were, she found that she had more feelings for this man than she had ever intended. “Sir, where am I supposed to work when I’m here?”

She was slightly embarrassed that she hadn’t thought about that yet. But Elijah seemed to delight in keeping her decidedly off balance, and she hadn’t thought of much besides him since he’d swept her onto his plane in Cabo.

Elijah stopped abruptly, turning and facing her. He placed his hands under her elbows and lifted her right off her feet, startling a squeak from her.

“Samantha, you don’t have to apologize for stating an opinion. Unless I’ve told you otherwise, I want to hear what you have to say. You fascinate me. I’m not interested in a submissive who is little more than a mannequin.”

Samantha trembled. She wasn’t about to admit it, because she was pretty sure that feminists everywhere would groan, but the fact that Elijah had just literally swept her off her feet was making her want him . . .
bad
.

“I had a hard enough time getting you to agree to this one commission.” He leaned forward, swept his lips over hers in a soft kiss. She was glad he was holding her up, because the gentleness of the touch made her weak in the knees.

“Making a piece for In Vino Veritas would be
my
choice.” Samantha planted her feet once Elijah put her down, having already resolved to do it.

“We’ll see.” Bending, Elijah pressed a kiss to her temple, then urged her ahead of him. “Come on. Let’s go get a drink.”

Unsure how to take his words, Samantha allowed herself to be nudged forward.
We’ll see?
What did that mean exactly? Did he not actually like her work? Was this commission really just an elaborate ploy to . . . Well, she wasn’t quite sure.

They passed through an open, arched doorway, and Samantha forgot all about it.

“Welcome to In Vino Veritas, the wine bar.” There was a layer of pride to Elijah’s words, and Samantha could easily see why. This was clearly not the area of the club where most of the play happened, but it took her breath away in another way entirely.

The room was . . .
opulent
. That was the word that immediately came to mind. Fantastic.

Rich.

None of the tables and chairs matched, though each was some form of black and gold, and as a whole they formed a cohesive picture. They were arranged in a way that looked accidental but Samantha knew had likely required a great deal of planning.

Long strings of golden lights tangled on the ceiling like vines, their light absorbed by the midnight black of the cloths that covered the tables.

The bar, formed from a slab of dark wood, stretched the entire length of the room. It had been polished to a shine and reflected the rows of golden wineglasses that hung upside down above it.

But the most stunning thing about the room was the wine. Semihidden behind walls of pale gray glass, it turned function into art.

“It’s gorgeous, Elijah.” She started forward, fingers outstretched, entranced by the sight of all the bottles in various shapes and colors behind the glass. Her mind began to whirl, thinking of what she could do with the concept. Wine bottles, whole or partially melted. Combined with her own colorless glass.

The possibilities were endless, and her fingers itched to go to her melting furnace.

Elijah chuckled, breaking her out of her trance.

“You can come back here tomorrow and study this all you want.” He reached out and traced the tips of his fingers over the swells of her breasts, and she felt her nipples peak against the silky fabric of her bustier. “But tonight I want all of your attention. We’re going to play, Sammie Cat, and I guarantee you’re going to like it.”

She didn’t doubt it, and her excitement grew as Elijah waved across the room to four people sitting at one of the larger black-draped tables. Elijah was the only thing, the only person, who fascinated her more than the possibilities of hot glass. Swallowing hard at the thought, she followed him across the large room, where the group of four seemed to be waiting for them.

“Am I—? Is this—?” she started, the words sticking in her throat.

“Is this what, little cat?” Elijah held up a finger to the group, indicating that he would be a moment. The two stopped just out of earshot of the group.

Samantha felt ridiculous, but forced the words out anyway.

“I don’t know how to act around other . . . other Doms.” Her eyes widened as she realized that, at some point that night, they were going to enter an entire club full of them. She’d been so nervous when she’d met Angelo at Pecado that she hadn’t given the notion much thought.

But now . . . well, now she wanted to make Elijah proud.

She seemed to have done just that by asking the question, to judge by the expression on his face. He tucked a stray red curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the lobe.

“Here, in the wine bar, act however you wish. There is no protocol here besides that within your own personal D/s relationship. I will enjoy calling the shots, but you won’t need to interact with other Doms in a D/s manner.”

Samantha’s heart began to beat faster, as it always did when she realized how very similar her desires lined up with Elijah’s. She so badly wanted to make this work, and was terrified that it wouldn’t.

“In the club, however . . .” Untucking the strand that he’d just placed behind her ear, Elijah stroked it through his fingers, watching as the curl bounced back toward Samantha. “Some Doms are more strict than I am. Address them as Sir or Ma’am or, if you wish, Master or Mistress. But if you do that, you have to add their name, or you’re implying that you belong to them.”

Samantha frowned, thoroughly lost.

Elijah clarified. Samantha felt her stomach do a slow roll.

“For instance . . . I’m about to introduce you to my friend Alex. Alex is also a Dom. It would be correct to address him as Sir or Master Alex, but not simply Master.” Samantha caught the blaze of heat that flared in Elijah’s eyes a moment before he wrapped his fist in her braid and tugged her toward him.

“That title belongs to me.”

Samantha’s insides were liquid when they finally approached the table where Elijah’s friends were waiting. The man turned her inside out.

“Samantha, this is Alex Fraser. He’s one of the two other owners of Veritas.” A tall man with raven black hair and startlingly blue eyes stood, surprising her.

She hadn’t thought a Dom would stand to greet a sub.

“Samantha.” The man’s bright eyes twinkled with mischief. “It’s lovely to meet you. Elijah hasn’t brought a woman here in years.”

Elijah cast a warning look at his friend, and Samantha looked at Elijah in turn. “Oh, really?” She bit her tongue as soon as she’d spoken, sure she’d broken some sort of submissive rule with her questioning stare.

But he didn’t scold her. Rather, for the first time since she’d met him, Elijah looked discomfited. He slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

“Stop harassing him.” A woman—one of the most beautiful women Samantha had ever seen, with a figure to match and dressed in a sheer dark blue dress—tugged on Alex’s slacks. The massive diamond on her ring finger caught the light as she pushed a long fall of chestnut hair out of her face. “Can’t you see you’ve embarrassed him?”

“That’s entirely the point.” Alex turned and looked down at the woman with the look that Samantha thought she might label “Dangerous Dom.” “And did you really just lecture your Dom?”

The woman rolled her eyes across the table at the second woman, a petite redhead wearing clothing that looked more suited to a flower child than a submissive. The redhead smirked and rolled her eyes back.

“No, I lectured my fiancé, who is being rude.” Leaning across the table, the woman offered Samantha a hand. “I’m Maddy Stone. I’m engaged to the rude one.”

Maddy gestured to the petite redhead, who was now glowering at the other man, who was large and had a head shaved to the skin.

“This is Kylie Anderson—she’s Alex’s personal assistant. And Declan St. Adams is his head of security.”

Declan nodded at her, then returned to stoically ignoring Kylie.

Samantha was beginning to feel entirely out of place among what were obviously some very close friends. She looked at Elijah, uncertain, only to find that he still seemed put off by Alex’s comment.

“Why don’t you menfolk run along and devise ways to torture us while we have a drink with Samantha? I’m dying to meet the woman who’s important enough that Elijah would build her a studio on the grounds.” The way Maddy spoke said that this wasn’t really a suggestion. She picked up her glass and drained the remaining inch of golden liquid.

Alex winced.

“That’s the Château Cheval Blanc you’re chugging, babe.” He raised his hands in mock surrender when she turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, we’re going.”

Samantha sat in the chair that Maddy gestured to after a quick glance at Elijah to see that it was okay with him. He nodded curtly, then left with Alex and Declan, leaving Samantha with an unpleasant tangle of nerves in her stomach.

“Is he mad at me?” She winced as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She sounded so needy. But Elijah was, if anything, gregarious, outgoing, charming.

Seeing him in a foul mood was a new thing for her.

Kylie snorted and reached for a full bottle of wine that was resting in a metal bucket of ice. She poured a full glass for Samantha, then topped up Maddy’s and her own.

“Actually, the fact that he’s grumpy about that comment, and the fact that he brought you here, bodes pretty well for you.” She cast an arch look Samantha’s way. “So, are you into the kinky games too, then?”

Samantha had just lifted her glass to her lips, and the wine went down the wrong tube when Kylie’s comment forced her to suck in air.

“Uh . . .” She looked at Maddy, who smirked and held out her wrists, which were braceleted with . . . were those
cuffs
?

“Kylie’s been feeling experimental lately,” Maddy said. “And she’s hoping to tempt the man who could be voted ‘least likely to administer a spanking’ into some of that kink.”

“Least likely to administer a spanking . . . Declan?” Samantha asked.

Maddy hooted with laughter and Kylie glowered.

“Gee, how’d you guess?” Kylie stared down into her wineglass, suddenly morose. “I’m doomed to vanilla sex for the rest of my life.”