Taking Courage
Authors: S.J. Maylee
Evernight
Publishing
Copyright© 2014
S.J
.
Maylee
ISBN: 978-1-77130-875-5
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor:
Karyn
White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal.
No part of
this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To my husband and sons, you three give me courage and love daily. I’d be
lost without you. I love you all so much.
To Anne, thank you for lighting the way for me to see the whole story.
Your help was priceless.
To
Karyn
, you did it again! For the second
time, you sparked the idea that led to an epilogue. Thank you for your wise
advice.
TAKING COURAGE
Love Projects, 2
S.J
.
Maylee
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One
They
were expecting her. Janna picked up her pace. She could almost see the club
entrance. It was her last night in Chicago, and this time she was going in.
The
dark entryway with no markings appeared innocent. She knew what went on behind
the black doors and what it took to get through them. She'd visited her doctor,
obtained a referral from an online friend, and mailed the guest paperwork. This
was not the time to second guess her actions. She'd save that for the flight
home tomorrow.
She
pulled the heavy door open. No sound greeted her, nor could she see what lay
ahead. The hall was dark as night, and she hesitated. Her heart kicked into
high gear. The door shut behind her and thrust her forward a step. Her hand
reached out tentatively. Soft velvet knocked into her knuckles. She pushed it
away and found the soft glow of the foyer.
The
rich ruby red of the fabrics and sconces along the wall drew her gaze to the
grand staircase at the end of the entryway. A large bear of a man behind a
podium spotted her immediately in the otherwise empty room. He kept his gaze on
her as she crept closer.
“State
your purpose.”
“Ah
... I'm supposed to be a guest tonight. I sent my paperwork.” She shuffled
through her purse for her confirmation. “Yes, here it is.” She handed the paper
to the man.
The
curtain behind her at the front door billowed, and a leather clad man walked
towards her. She forced her line of sight back to the man in front of her and
flipped her long blonde tresses behind her shoulder.
“Yes,
sure, Mistress Charlie mentioned you'd be coming.” He scrutinized her
confirmation. “I’ll be right with you, Master Simon.”
The
man stopped next to her, and her ability to play cool faltered.
A Master.
She took
a deep breath and drank him in, starting with his dark boots of luscious black
leather. Her gaze took the scenic route along his legs, drank in his firm body,
to his broad chest encased in a casual black shirt.
“Can
I see your ID?”
She
continued her perusal of the Master and found the hard angle of his jaw and
stopped at his striking green eyes, which were set directly on her. She
couldn’t move. With his look alone, he commanded her attention.
“Miss,
your
ID, please.”
“Sorry,
of course.” She yanked her thoughts back to her situation and into her purse. Heat
flashed across her cheeks, and her fingers tripped over themselves. Finally, she
pulled the card from the tight inside pocket and passed it to the man.
He
pulled her ID down to her paperwork, clearly comparing the two. He looked up at
her a few times and back at the ID. Her gaze drifted back to the Master next to
her. He was still watching her.
“Very good.”
He handed the
ID back to her, and she slipped it back into her purse. “Mistress Charlie
wanted to escort you into the club, but she's busy with a collaring ceremony at
the moment. She asked me to give you this if you arrived before she was
finished.” He handed her a folded note.
The
hand writing was crisp, but the statement was tender—the two qualities she'd
come to recognize in Charlie. She read the simple message again.
You’re ready, my dear. The only thing you
need to remember is to be open and honest.
“You'll
need to wait here for an escort, unless Master Simon has time to escort you
tonight.”
She
shoved the note into her purse before it shook and announced her nerves. Her
heart stopped mid-beat, and she bunched her toes inside her shoes. He was a
Master. He'd be perfect.
It's okay if he
says no
. His wife or girlfriend could be waiting inside. A rejection from a
stranger meant nothing.
Nothing.
“Sure,
I can take her in. What's your name, Miss?” His strong tone rumbled over her
senses.
She
tugged on her purse strap, like it was a lifeline. She wanted to know more
about this man standing next to her, pulling all of her attention. She wanted
to find out how soft his skin was under that shirt and how warm and hard his
chest was, too. Seconds continued to tick by as her nerves danced away with her
ability to speak.
He
didn’t move while she examined him. He hadn't re-asked the question or stepped
closer.
“I'm
Janna.”
“Nice to meet you, Janna.
You look
beautiful this evening.”
“Thank
you, Sir.”
“Will
you allow me to escort you this evening?”
“Thank
you. I’d like that, Sir.”
Master
Simon walked around her and started up the broad staircase. She looked back at
the man that had greeted her. He tilted his head toward Simon, and she scurried
to catch him.
This
time she would not back down. No more questions, no more thinking. She’d
promised herself two months ago, when she got the opportunity to attend the
conference in
Chicago, that
she would walk into this
club. No more wondering. Tonight, she would find out if she truly desired what
she had so often read and had chatted about online.
The
landing at the top of the stairs revealed a bulky set of wooden double doors.
Simon stood waiting for her like a gatekeeper to the lands of all things
erotic. Her pulse thumped in her ears, and a cold sweat tickled between her
breasts. He opened the door and held it for her.
“Welcome
to Club Voyage, Janna.”
“Thank
you, Sir.” She took a couple steps to get her through the doorway. The smells
hit her first, leather, sweat, and sex. Club music, with a heavy bass, beat against
her body. She stopped and waited for Master Simon to walk around her and lead
her into the room.
Her
gazed centered on his lower back and his fine ass. He stopped, turned back to
her, and most certainly caught her checking him out. Warmth gathered in the
center of her chest and spread.
“You
need to stay close to me this evening.” He reached out and grasped her shoulder.
His fingers caressed in a gentle motion. “Close enough for me to touch, okay?”
“Okay.
I like the sound of that, Sir.”
“Take
a look around the room. Notice the different sections, the ropes that cordon off
the play areas, the signs at each station.” He walked around her, took her
hand, and pulled her further into the room. “Along with my Master duties here,
I’m also a trainer. Feel free to ask me any questions.”
“Thank
you, Sir.”
The
darkness of the room did nothing to hide the decadence. Couples gyrating on the
dance floor caught her attention first with their beautiful imitation of sex. Smacks
of paddles, whooshes of whips, and bodies meeting filled the room with sound.
Her eyes, wide with trepidation and exhilaration, located the nearest scene.
She
turned to Master Simon. “Can I take a closer look?”
“Absolutely,
show me what interests you.”
Her
feet found their way.
A
woman knelt before her Dom with her eyes focused on him alone. Her hands were
bound behind her back. Janna melted in want. The man thrust his cock in and out
of her mouth, his control clear. Heat pooled between Janna's legs, and her
breasts tingled with desire.
She
licked her lips and turned to Master Simon, who was watching her. His hands may
be casually tucked into the front pocket of his pants, but his eyes had turned
to a darker shade of green. Her nipples tightened. She couldn’t tell what was
pulling her into the moment more, the beautiful scenes around her or the
observant Master at her side.
She
could see why her friends in the chat rooms called the attention of a Dom
addictive. All the scenes she’d read hadn’t prepared her for the power of his
look. It was beautiful. It was true. She had to know more.
