Over the Line (23 page)

Sierra Cartwright

Released 16
^th
August 2013

Excerpt

Chapter One

Finally.

She’d made it.

Maggie smoothed the front of her short leather skirt and followed her friend Vanessa through the front door of the Den.

Music blasted from the back patio, and the bass seemed to shake the walls. Half-naked people—men, mostly—were everywhere, and cool air whispered in through open windows.

Gregorio, the Den’s caretaker, met them in the foyer.

“Welcome to Ladies Night,” he said. His eyes were dark, and the wink of a silver earring made him resemble a pirate.

“I’m here for the debauchery,” Maggie said.

“You’ve come to the right place,” he assured her with a grin.

She’d been looking forward to this outing for over a month. Not only had she spent her lunch hours shopping online for a new outfit and killer shoes, but she’d also purchased a sparkly collar. Every day at five o’clock, she happily slashed through the date on her calendar. The fat, red mark served a dual purpose. It served as a reward for surviving another work day with the insufferable David Tomlinson, and it was a visual reminder that she was closer to a night at the Den and to satisfying her deepest cravings.

“Are you planning to scene tonight, Maggie?” Gregorio asked.

She nodded. 

“Sex?”

“I won’t say no,” she said.

“Condoms are provided in all the private rooms. House Monitors also have them. I take it you want to participate as a sub, not a Domme?”

“That’s correct.” She wondered how he managed to keep up with the particulars of each guest. But, then, that was why he ran the place.

“Are you looking to play with a man or a woman?”

“Strictly het,” she said.

Several different coloured wristbands lay on a nearby table. Gregorio selected a white one and affixed it to her wrist.

“Same for me,” Vanessa chimed in.

“Dominants have red bands.” Gregorio spoke as he secured Vanessa’s band. “Switches are in yellow.”

“Got it.” Maggie was anxious to get on with it. She’d been here often enough that she could take Gregorio’s place at the door. But she also knew he wouldn’t hurry through the ritual, despite her anticipation.

“House monitors have black bands around their upper arms. House subs have purple ones. Be sure to let someone know if you need help. The Den’s safe word is halt, use it at any time. Enjoy yourselves.”

“I will, for sure,” Vanessa said.

Brandy, a woman Maggie knew as a house sub, took their jackets and purses.

Any night here was fabulous, but four times a year, Master Damien and Gregorio went all out for the house’s single ladies, providing entertainment, demonstrations, hunky Doms and Dommes, exotic non-alcoholic beverages and the most mouth-watering desserts imaginable. She’d been saving up her calories for over a week with the intention of indulging in all her favourite things. Not that it mattered, really. If she had her way, she’d burn plenty of energy during a BDSM scene or two.

To her, an orgasm was the best of all stress-relievers. And a dozen would make her forget the crappy hell her life had become.

With luck, it would take less than half an hour to find someone to take her to the downstairs dungeon.

She and Vanessa made their way towards the kitchen and looked out of the patio doors. A fire burned in a pit. People in all sorts of outfits, from street clothes to club wear, milled about. A stage had been set up near the back of the paved area where rocker Evan C was all but making love to the microphone.

“I’ll have a double shot of that deliciousness,” Vanessa said against Maggie’s ear.

“Evan C?” The musician
was
handsome. Tonight he wore a black shirt that was completely unbuttoned, and his trademark white scarf was wrapped around his neck. Recently a video of him had gone viral, thanks to a publicity stunt by one of the Den’s members. So now Evan C was giving women all over the world heart palpitations.

“I’d let him put his shoes under my bed,” Vanessa said. “But no, I mean the guy standing to the right of the stage. I think he has on a black band.”

Because the party attracted so many newbies, Master Damien brought in extra House Monitors—male and female—to ensure everyone’s safety, answer questions and even participate in scenes. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Her platform shoes added much-needed inches, but that didn’t help her see through the crowd any better than usual.

“That one over there”—Vanessa pointed—“near the speaker. Short dark hair. Jeans. No shirt. Can you see him yet?”

“No.”

“Wait. I think that’s a pair of handcuffs on his belt loop. Damn.”

Maggie craned her head.

“Do you need me to lift you up?”

She glared at Vanessa. Vanessa was five inches taller than Maggie and never missed an opportunity to point that out.

“Would you care for a chocolate-covered strawberry?” a server enquired, distracting them.

“Oh, God, yes,” Maggie said.

Vanessa and Maggie both turned away from the huge glass windows and towards the sexy man standing near them. He was over six feet tall, with long hair she itched to run her fingers through.

She took her time selecting the treat from the silver serving platter. If nothing else, she enjoyed keeping him next to her for an extra few seconds. Not only did he smell of an expensive, spicy cologne, he had on a bow tie and remarkable, shimmery gold pants. His chest was devoid of hair, and his skin glistened as if oiled. Master Damien
definitely
knew how to please his guests.

Eventually she chose a small strawberry, not because of its size but because it had the most chocolate coating.

In typical fashion, Vanessa dived in after the biggest piece of fruit.

Where Maggie was deliberate, Vanessa seized every opportunity that came along. The fact they were so different had made the friendship all sorts of interesting over the last eight years. Maggie nibbled at her dessert while Vanessa bit hers in half.

“Another, ladies?” the man offered.

“Could you leave the tray?” Vanessa asked.

“Don’t you dare,” Maggie countered.

Vanessa picked up two more berries, but Maggie shook her head. The man winked conspiratorially at Maggie before moving off.

“That hottie is gone. You never saw him, did you?”

“Not like it’s a loss. There’s plenty of them here.”

“True enough. But I like handcuffs. So do you, right?”

Maggie loved any kind of restraint.

“So, have you seen anyone you’re interested in?” Vanessa asked.

After her strawberry was gone, Maggie surveyed the crowd in the kitchen and great room. “I wouldn’t mind sceneing with the HM I played with last time, if he’s here. He knew his way around my body without a map.” The man had flogged her good then sank to his knees and licked her pussy until she couldn’t come anymore. “How about you?”

“I’m greedy. I want two men.”

“Two?” Maggie hadn’t considered trying a ménage, but now…

“It
is
ladies night,” Vanessa pointed out.

“So it is.”

The music trailed off and enthusiastic applause followed. She wiped her hands on a paper cocktail napkin and then joined in.

A few seconds later, Evan C introduced his next song, the single that was accelerating up the charts, then nodded to his band who cranked up the sound.

“Got your kink on?” Vanessa asked.

“Almost.” Nerves assailed her, a heady combination of adrenaline and anticipation.

They’d made plans to meet at their hotel room in Winter Park. Master Damien had thoughtfully provided a shuttle between the Den and several stops in the nearby tourist town. “If you go home with anyone, send me a text,” Maggie said.

“Same for you.”

“Yeah. As if.”

“Hey, you could shock the world and do something totally out of character.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. Ever since her breakup with Samuel, she’d been in a sexual drought. Not that it hadn’t been barren while they were together. He tried, at least initially. But after several months, he’d got angry. During one of their arguments, he’d shouted at her that she was insatiable. That wasn’t true. She would have been fine if he would have tied her to the bed and used her vibrator on her. A spanking once a week would have satisfied her needs. Well…at least she thought it would.

Perhaps the more she got, the more she’d want.

But she might not ever know.

She had never had a relationship that made it past six months. If she found a man who was demanding in the bedroom, he tended to be an arrogant sonofabitch outside it. If he was considerate about sharing chores, he tended to bore her once the lights were turned down.

Recently, she’d cancelled all of her dating site memberships. She’d given up searching for Mr Right and decided to settle for Mr Right Now.

Because of that, she lived for her forays to the Den, where her desires were encouraged.

She’d learnt to embrace her single status. She didn’t have to answer to anyone if she worked late, didn’t feel like getting out of her pyjamas on a Saturday morning, ate ice cream for dinner or skipped vacuuming for so long that dust bunnies threatened to strangle her.

And she could play with a different Dom all the time. It was the best of all worlds.

“Later,” Vanessa said over her shoulder as she headed towards a group of men in the great room.

Maggie snagged a virgin colada from the granite island in the kitchen then joined the crowd on the patio.

She stood to one side and watched a few couples dance in front of the stage. Off to the left, a mouth-watering male knelt in front of a woman who wore a red wrist band. The image was incredible, but it really didn’t do much for her. When she was here, she preferred giving up control. At work, she engaged in constant battles with her self-appointed boss and had to be on guard all the time. Letting go and surrendering to her submissive tendencies was critical to her mental health.

“Would you like to dance?”

She turned and smiled at the man who’d approached her. He was tall and lanky, wearing a plaid shirt. At least he’d skipped the pocket protector.

Part of her realised she was being unfair. He had an earnest smile, and she was sure he was a nice man. He had on a red band, but somehow, she didn’t see him as a Dom. There was something lacking in his tone, a certain confidence. And his expression was more hopeful than assertive.

She smiled back and waited a few seconds. He continued to look at her, but she had no compulsion to cast her gaze at the ground. She felt no spark of attraction for him. If she was going to bare her body—or at least parts of it—to a stranger, she would choose a man who had a razor-edge of danger about him. For some reason, this guy reminded her of her latest ex. She couldn’t imagine a greater turn-off. “Thanks,” she said. “Perhaps another time.”

“It was worth a try,” he said easily before moving onto the next target, a woman who was swaying in place as she listened to Evan C.

In some ways, Maggie realised, this wasn’t much different than a singles’ bar. But there were far fewer pretensions. At least sexually.

Maggie took a sip from the cool drink, loving the blend of pineapple, coconut and whipped cream on her tongue. Since it had juice in it, she told herself the beverage was at least somewhat healthy.

She was ready to take a second sip when she saw him.

David Tomlinson.

Her nemesis.

What the hell was he doing here?

Slowly, she lowered her trembling hand.

Fuck.

The main reason she’d come to the Den was to escape him.

He stood near a speaker, arms folded across a bare chest, a black band on his upper arm, short hair spiked and he was wearing a pair of jeans.

David Tomlinson was a House Monitor? Crap. It wasn’t enough that he was here, but he had to have a role of authority.

Then she noticed the handcuffs.

She dropped her jaw at the sight.

Was David Tomlinson the man Vanessa had noticed?

If Maggie didn’t know him so well, she might agree that he was sexy. But she knew him too well. He manipulated people to his own ends. Sure he was one of the smartest people she’d ever met, but she’d seen him use that intelligence for nefarious purposes.

She stood there, uncertain what to do. Confront him? Ignore him and hope he didn’t see her? Catch the shuttle back to Winter Park?

Immediately, she dismissed the last idea.

She was here to have a good time, and by God, she would enjoy herself.

Ignoring him wasn’t her normal style. No way would she spend the entire night skulking around and looking over her shoulder.

That left a confrontation, and really, the only thing that suited her personality.

As if sensing her gaze, he looked at her.

He drew his brows together in an expression that was all-too familiar. Obviously he was as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Then a sub walked up to him, and he turned his attention to the blonde.

Maggie exhaled a breath she hadn’t realised she’d sucked in.

She took another sip of her drink, trying to regroup. She told herself they were both adults. They were both here for their own reasons. They could deal with this.

Determinedly, she went inside and wandered around the living room. A small group was gathered near the fireplace, and the topic of conversation was the Denver Broncos’ upcoming preseason schedule.

Near the window, a Dom rested his shoulders on the wall.

Though he wasn’t overly tall, he was broad. He had on a T-shirt, revealing his beefy biceps. He could probably wield a flogger for a good long time.

He glanced pointedly at her wrist then back at her.

Her heart rate began to increase and she tightened her grip on her virgin colada. She cast her gaze at the ground, silently signalling both her submissiveness and willingness.

When she raised her head, she was shocked to see him striding away from her, out of the room.