Master of Submission [Masters of Submission 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (16 page)

“First of all, baby, enjoy yourself. Club Submission is a place to feel free from the constraints of the vanilla world. Anything goes, so long as it’s consensual. Mathew and Ethan have owned the club for six years, and will not tolerate subs being forced to do anything against their will. Like I say, everything has to be consensual.”

“Yes, that’s reassuring to know, but how should I act with you? Can I speak freely?”

Zane sighed. Emma’s nerves were clearly getting the better of her. “We’ve already been through this. I’m sure you’ll remember what’s expected of you.”

“I know. Just tell me one more time, please, Zane. I don’t want to let you down.”

“Very well. You can speak freely when we’re alone, but there is a certain protocol that needs to be followed when we’re with other club members. You may interact with the other submissives if you wish. But you should always keep your eyes downcast from the other Dominants, until I introduce you to them.”

“But won’t that seem rather rude?”

“Not at all. That’s how they expect a sub to behave. You should never speak out of turn. If you wish to speak with another Dominant, you need to gain my permission first.”

“It all sounds very complicated.”

He stroked her arm, soothing her obvious concern. “It’s quite simple really. The club is a sanctuary where we can act out our fantasies in a safe environment. It can be very arousing with spectators.”

“What if I forget my place and I blurt out something without thinking?”

Zane smiled. “Then I may decide to discipline you for speaking without my permission.”

Her eyes opened wide. “In front of everyone?”

“Perhaps. That would be my choice to make. It all depends on how benevolent I’m feeling. But make no mistake, you will be disciplined.” He kept his voice low, to show he meant business. Tonight would be a true test of her commitment to the lifestyle he’d enjoyed for the past six years. He couldn’t afford to be soft with her just because he’d fallen in love with her. He had his position as a respected Dom to maintain.

“Oh.” Emma visibly squirmed in her seat. The thought of being disciplined by him clearly turned her on. When she’d shared her deepest fantasies with him, the night they’d first fucked, Emma had reluctantly told him that she’d like to have her ass spanked. He mused, now, which would be best? The paddle or the cane?

Zane shook the cock-hardening thoughts from his mind as he steered the Range Rover into the club’s parking lot. For a Friday night the lot looked empty, but then the weather was bad, and lots of club members hired cabs.

Once he’d killed the ignition, he turned to Emma. Her cloud of blonde hair was pinned up, leaving just wispy, golden tendrils to cascade around her beautiful, heart-shaped face. “Ready, baby?”

She nodded, and drew in a deep breath, her slender fingers tightly gripping her purse. He noticed her knuckles bared white.

Zane placed his hand on hers, stilling the neurotic action. “No need to be nervous.”

“I can’t help it, Zane. Last time I was here I was just a stranger. Now I’m your sub.”

He squeezed her hand. “Let’s go in?”

Emma managed a smile. “Yes, of course.”

“Then I suggest we run across the lot, because it’s fifteen below out there.”

“After you.” She giggled, holding her hand on the door release, and waiting for him to make the first move.

“No, I insist, ladies first.” When neither of them opened the car door, Zane decided to take control. “As my sub, I order you, on the count of three, to leave this vehicle.” That was the beauty of being a Dom, he could always pull rank on his sub.

“But that’s not fair.” She waited, listening intently as he counted out loud.

“One…two…three.”

The icy blast hit him as he pushed open the door. Thank God he was wearing a winter coat. He heard the passenger door slam shut, and watched Emma hurry across the car lot to Submission. He listened to her girlish screams as the wind tore through her coat and permeated the miniscule skirt and top that she wore. Zane zapped the remote, securing the hundred-thousand-dollar automobile, and took off after her. A bitter gust of frozen air ripped through his hair, making him grit his teeth. Damn, it was cold.

Emma made him feel truly alive for the first time in years. When he’d been much younger, he’d fucked up his personal life by being a selfish prick. Yeah, but he hadn’t been true to himself. If he had, things might have turned out differently. In the end, unhappiness had spread like wildfire into every aspect of his life, leaving him bitter and discontented. Emma had given him a second chance. He’d make sure he got it right this time.
He loved her
.

They both reached the steps to the club at the same time. When he turned the impressive brass handle, attached to the solid oak door, he was surprised to find it locked. He felt his brows draw together. Perhaps there was a private party and he hadn’t heard about it. He thought this highly unlikely. He’d been a Submission regular for the past six years. The gargoyle doorbell was lit, so he pressed it. After a half-minute or so, he heard the heavy bolt being drawn back, and the large oak door slowly opened a few inches.

Andrea, the receptionist, peered through the gap. She seemed relieved when she recognized him. “Oh, thank God it’s you, Zane, come on in. Get out of this shit weather.” She opened the door wider, allowing him and Emma to enter.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asked as Andrea locked the door behind them. Her blonde hair shook with the effort to ram the bolt fully home.

She turned, looking slightly harassed. “The place has been under siege from the press and TV guys. They’ve been camping out on the steps, hoping for an opportunity to sneak inside. We’ve even had reporters pretending to be part of the scene, just to gain access to the club. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve caught them with concealed cameras. They must think we’re complete fucking idiots.”

“Jesus, Andrea, I knew there was some shit going down, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” Of course, he’d read the reports in the papers and watched the TV, but after a couple of days it all seemed to be dying down. “There’s no one out there now,” Zane commented.

“Yeah, that’s because it’s turned bitter outside, minus fifteen or less. Besides, they’ve frightened all the regulars away, so there’s nothing for them to report anymore. I mean, who in their right mind wants their photo taken in a club like this, and then plastered all over the papers. You know as well as me, Zane, the vanilla world has the wrong impression of what goes on here. Some narrow-minded folks would even disown their own kin if they found out they visited Club Submission.”

“Yeah, you’re right as usual, Andrea. Is it worth us signing in?”

“No, go straight in. The cops took the sign-in book as evidence. I suppose they were bound to after what happened to that poor girl who used to come here. Waste of fucking time, in my opinion. I mean, who signs their real name in the book anyway? At the moment the cops are on the lookout for four Bill Clintons, three Monica Lewinskys, and a well-endowed Welsh guy who goes by the name of Ivor Biggun.” She threw back her head and laughed at her own joke, but stopped abruptly when she noticed Emma standing quietly in the corner. “You’ll have to forgive my crude attempt at humor. I know you were a friend of Giselle’s.” She immediately corrected herself. “Sorry, honey, I mean Chloe. I sure hope I haven’t offended you?”

“No, not at all. Chloe was a fun girl. She would have seen the funny side, too.”

Andrea nodded in silent approval. Emma’s manners and the way she held herself were impeccable. She was a natural submissive.

“Now both of you, slip off your coats and go right in. It’s a lot warmer in there, than it is outside.”

They duly obliged, shrugging quickly from their coats. Zane handed his to Andrea and then helped Emma from hers. She’d spent three hours getting ready that evening. He wondered why it took so long to put on a skimpy top and barely there miniskirt. Still, he had to admit she looked perfect. Complementing her frugal outfit were a pair of kinky leather boots, and some tastefully applied makeup. Feeling like a lottery winner, Zane couldn’t wait to show off his prize.

The heady beat of the music drifted down the corridor as Zane guided Emma toward the action. He held a protective arm around her waist. When he pushed open the double doors into the main part of the club, he was surprised to find it virtually empty. From what Andrea had told him, he guessed there wouldn’t be many members in tonight, but to actually see all the vacant chairs, made him stop in his tracks.

Jessica and Cole were the only people on the dance floor. Matthew and Ethan sat in the corner, leaving just Todd to tend bar. There was no one else. Everyone with the exception of Jessica appeared thoroughly depressed. It looked like the homicide investigation had brought Club Submission to its knees. He nodded acknowledgement to the two brothers, and continued walking to the bar.

“Where is everyone?” Emma whispered as they took a seat.

“I guess the cops scared them away.”

“That’s awful. Can they afford to keep the club open with so few paying customers?”

“I don’t know. I’ll find out what’s going on.” He cupped her chin. “Now stay here at the bar and relax. I’m just gonna have a word with Matthew and Ethan.”

Emma nodded. “Okay.”

“Just remember the protocols, baby, and you’ll be all right.” He gestured to Todd behind the bar. “Give the lady a drink, Todd. Anything she wants, providing it’s nonalcoholic.”

Todd nodded back. “Sure thing, Zane.”

Emma protested. “No alcohol?”

Zane placed his hands on her shoulders. “No alcohol means no alcohol. Don’t question me again. Get it?”

Her eyes lifted to his, and a sensuous smile drifted to her lips. Yeah, she got it all right, that tight little knot of tension in her stomach every time he controlled her in public. She’d soon learn the roles they played in front of an audience were like an aphrodisiac—an appetizer for the main sexual event that would surely follow once they returned home. “Sorry, Sir. Thank you for looking after my welfare.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear. A grateful sub.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “I want you fully alert for what I have planned tonight. Alcohol will only cloud your enjoyment.” With his hands on her shoulders, he felt the tiny tremors that racked through her slender, fuckable body. Yeah, no doubt about it, Emma liked him taking control.

A broad smile touched his face as he walked across to Matthew and Ethan. They were deep in conversation, and appeared worried. Their furrowed brows were clear evidence of that. The younger brother, Ethan, shook his head, and then threw the pen he was holding down in disgust. Zane noticed a series of figures jotted haphazardly on a piece of paper, and guessed they were having trouble with their finances.

He held out his hand in greeting. “I hear things aren’t going too well, guys. If there’s anything I can do, just say the word.”

They both shook his hand, and Matthew gestured for him to take a seat. “Sit down, Zane. Thanks for the offer, but there’s nothing you or anyone else can do to help. It seems we’re well and truly up shit creek without a paddle. If we don’t get club members returning within the next month, we may have to pull the plug.”

“That bad, huh?”

Ethan picked up the pen again and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, that fucking cop. What’s the prick’s name? The one that mouthed off at Chloe’s funeral.” He snapped his fingers together. “Oh, yeah, Detective Mitchell. He’s stirred up a whole hornet’s nest here. He’s determined to close us down, but no matter how deep he digs, he can’t find anything illegal going on. Matt and I have always been vigilant where the law is concerned, you know that, Zane.”

Just the thought of Detective Mitchell made Zane seethe with rage. “Fuck, that guy sure is a pain in the ass. The prick’s been harassing me. Like a bad penny, he keeps turning up. He’s fixated with the club and everyone in it. He thinks what we do here is evil.”

Matthew let out a long sigh. “It figures. The guy’s a complete jerk-off. He’s been taking too much notice of the trash written in the papers. According to one tabloid, several members were supposed to have helped dispose of Chloe’s body after a scene in the club went horribly wrong.” He shook his head. “Unbelievable. They must think we’re all evil, sick fuck’s here. Christ, we’ve had reporters camped outside for days. It’s scared off all the members. No one wants to be seen entering the club.”

Matthew smiled. “Except for you and your good lady friend.” He pointed at Emma. “I hope you’re not gonna keep her all to yourself?”

“No, I’ll call her over, and, guys, just so you know, Emma’s not for sharing.”

Ethan tapped the fountain pen to his lips, an amused expression on his face. “Is that her limits, or yours?”

“Mine.”

Matthew laughed out loud. “She sure seems to have had a calming influence on you.”

“You could say.” He knew he’d get teased by the brothers, but he didn’t care. He cared about Emma, and she was his and his alone.

“That’s good, Zane. She certainly had a calming influence on me at the funeral. Man, I almost decked that cop. If she hadn’t stepped in when she did.” Matthew shrugged. “I’m sure I’d be facing a long prison sentence.”

“Me, too.” Zane waved his hand, and Emma obediently began to walk toward them. This would be her first real test. Even if she failed, he would still be proud of her. “Emma had some good news earlier today. Someone from the Boston Medical Examiner’s Office telephoned her. Looks like they’ve found Chloe’s killer. They’re just waiting on the DNA results before they make a public announcement.”