The Master's Choice (3 page)

“Actually, I believe Mr. O’Grady mentioned it,” the driver replied calmly as he navigated through traffic.

Liam and his damned sixth sense. “God knows what I think I’ll do there,” JW muttered, opening his eyes. He undid the buttons on his cuffs and rolled his sleeves a couple times. He stretched his slack-clad legs out and studied his loafers. He missed his boots.

“If I may be so bold, sir,” the man paused as he changed lanes. “You may find that your dominant tendencies are more aggressive and pronounced than before.”

“Really?” JW addressed the brown eyes in the rear view mirror.

“Indeed, sir. I don’t mean to sound like a smart ass, but I’m studying psychology at NYU, with a focus on sexual behaviors.”

Intrigued, JW cocked his head. “What do you suggest?”

“Push your own boundaries. I remember how quiet and calm you were before this last deployment, but you have a temper like slow moving lava.”

JW grunted, remembering the last time he’d been so thoroughly provoked. “Let’s see, that would have been when I nearly put Madison in an ER because of what he did to his submissive.” He shrugged. “I can’t stand to see a sub abused like that.”

“Exactly, sir,” the man agreed. “Now, if that temper doesn’t have an outlet, it becomes like a volcanic eruption.”

“And you think that using sex as an outlet…”

“Not just the sex. I may not be a part of the lifestyle but I know it’s never all about the sex. It’s about the control and the balance between Dom and sub or master and slave.”

“I’ve never been into the slave aspect,” JW countered quickly. “It’s too extreme.”

“Sir, after what you’ve been through, maybe that extreme is just what you need.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” JW cracked sarcastically.

Their eyes met in the rear-view mirror. “Mr. Franklin requested that I drive you because he knew my brother is a sniper and that I could relate to how a soldier in your situation might feel coming home.”

“So,” JW murmured thoughtfully, looking out the window. “A slave might help.”

“It’s a possibility, sir.” The man continued to move the car through traffic easily.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Maybe at some point. Not after…” JW fell silent and took in everything the car passed. “All these people going about their lives and they have no idea what kind of hell lies beyond these borders,” he said quietly.

“There are those who feel like hell is everywhere,” the driver replied.

“Oh, now there’s something I didn’t need to hear,” JW snorted.

Traffic wasn’t backed up as horribly as JW had expected and they were soon in the underground parking lot of The Gray Shadows nightclub and ultra-exclusive sex club that catered to nearly all tastes.

“Do you think you’ll be staying in one of the guest rooms or should I leave your bags in the car?” The driver queried before he opened his door.

JW frowned as he thought about that and the driver moved to open his door. The Franklin Hotel usually had at least two or three paparazzi waiting outside or stationed in the lobby. The last thing he needed was to deal with the press.

“Sir? Will you be staying?”

“See if Liam has a spare room,” he replied, getting out and stretching.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I never caught your name.”

The driver smiled as he moved behind the car and opened the trunk. “Wesley, sir.”

“Thank you, Wesley. I’ll be in the pub.” JW handed him his jacket.

“I’ll find you there, sir.”

JW moved toward the elevator and contemplated what the hell he was going to do now that he was out of the military. As the elevator smoothly ascended, he considered that nearly twenty years of his life—more than half—had been spent in uniform. The doors opened into the paneled hall of the Club’s entry, he heard muted classical music and voices as he stepped forward to the wide double-doors of the pub. The O’Gradys were proud of their Celtic heritage and the interior of the Club reflected that.

Before he’d taken five steps, the doors opened and the broad frame of Liam O’Grady appeared.

“Liam,” JW greeted him with a smile that he couldn’t help. They’d been friends since kindergarten.

“JW,” Liam replied, stepping forward and pulling him into a quick, rough embrace. “Good to have you home. Wesley is taking your things up to five-oh-three. Your code’s been programmed.”

“Thank you. I should have known you’d anticipate my every move.” JW could only grin that his friend considered his needs.

“Not hardly, but having the ‘sight’ helps. Especially in this particular career field.” JW smiled at the idea that running a sex club was a career field. A hand on JW’s shoulder, Liam started them both toward the pub’s dark interior. “Any idea of what you want to do?”

“Here and now? Or in the future?” JW wondered wearily. He was realizing that would be one of the first questions everyone asked.

Liam glanced at him. “I guess both.”

“Here and now…” JW paused, recalling Wesley’s words, but decided that was too extreme for him at the moment. “I need a submissive. In the future?” He shrugged. “I’ll probably head out to the family place and stay for a week or so. Mom will understand that I need to decompress a bit, but she’ll have my head if I don’t show up in twenty-four hours. After that?” He shook his head. “I’ve no fucking idea.”

“Well, let’s get you a drink and I’ll take you up to the selection room.”

“Sounds like a plan,” agreed JW.

A few moments later, Scotch in hand, the two men took the stairs to where unattached submissives could be selected by a Dom.

“Anything in particular you’re in the mood for?” Liam asked, pushing open the door to the corridor.

“Control. No questions.”

“If you want no limits, we need to go up another floor.” Liam reminded him calmly.

JW scowled. Four floors above were where the slaves waited. He’d been on that floor once. “I didn’t say no limits,” he growled.

“Right,” Liam murmured. “Just because there are no limits, doesn’t mean you would hurt a slave.”

“No.”

Liam just nodded, his expression neutral as always. JW realized he wasn’t sure what Liam was into. Did he have a vanilla relationship outside this Club that his family had started more than a century ago? Was he a Dom or a submissive? JW dismissed that idea immediately. Liam couldn’t be a submissive in any situation. And it was none of his business anyway.

Entering the large room when Liam paused, JW slowly moved toward the dozen subs who had knelt as soon as the men crossed the threshold. Four were men, so he didn’t even look in their direction. He studied the women clad in shear silver togas. Three redheads, four blondes, and a curvy brunette who was trembling.

Instincts twitching, he studied the brunette with observation skills honed by years as a sniper. She didn’t seem as sure of herself as the other women.

“This is Master JW,” Liam introduced JW to the group.

“Good evening, Master JW,” they greeted him in unison.

“How long have you been a submissive?” he asked, walking around the dark-headed sub and tapping her head.

“Three weeks, sir,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on the ground.

Liam stepped up behind him. “Ally has a six-month contract with the Club.”

“She’s clean and protected?” JW asked about her medical record and birth control.

“Of course. Condom only for anal sex,” Liam responded.

JW nodded. “Stand, Ally.”

Swallowing quickly, she rose gracefully by rocking back on her heels and straightening her legs. JW reached out and caught her chin with his fingers so he could see her face. Dark brown eyes quickly lowered to avoid contact with his.

He assessed her heart-shaped face with narrow brows and the blue leather collar indicating that she could be flogged, taken anally, and used on the Saint Andrew’s cross, but the colored studs indicated that caning, hot wax, and a few other more extreme methods of bondage and sadism were not permitted.

Beneath the silver gauze, her body seemed to shimmer. A perfect hourglass with soft full breasts perfect for sucking and fondling. Under his gaze, her nipples puckered and he saw her bite her bottom lip.

“I choose you,” he told her, releasing her chin. “Twenty-four hours.”

“Ally, do you agree to be Master JW’s submissive for the next twenty-four hours?”

“Yes, Master Liam,” she whispered.

“Clear the room,” O’Grady ordered quietly.

The other subs stood, took their cloaks from the hooks on the wall, and left. Liam followed them out and closed the door.

Closing her eyes, Ally focused on her breathing. This was her first time in the selection room. Master Liam had told her that it might take a while before a Dom selected her. So for this Dom, who Master Liam clearly knew well, to choose her had her fighting a panic attack.

“Are you all right?”

She heard the concern in his voice even as the deep rasping resonated with something inside her. She opened her eyes and saw him standing in front of her.

“I’m fine, sir,” she whispered.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“No, sir!” she gasped, her gaze flying to his face. Realizing her error, she dropped her eyes quickly. But the glance had been enough to take in his dark gray eyes, short dark hair, and broad shoulders. “I’m just a bit nervous, sir.”

“Understandable,” he said quietly. His fingers gripped her chin again and lifted her head. “Look at me, Ally.”

Swallowing, she obeyed and drank in what she saw. Not classically handsome like Andy, his features were rugged or what her mother would have called rough-hewn. In his eyes, she saw something familiar. It took her a moment to realize that she’d seen that same look in the eyes of her grandfather and uncle. This man had been in battle and was suffering because of it.

A rumble startled her and he grimaced. She smiled slightly. “Sir, may I get you something to eat or drink? Master Liam keeps sandwiches in the bar.” She gestured to the corner.

He smiled and nodded. “Roast beef and cheese, if they have it.”

“And to drink?”

“Scotch. Neat. Double.”

Releasing her face, he handed her his empty glass and went to a seating area nearby, while she went to the bar. He sat down and stretched his legs out.

“You look vaguely familiar,” he commented.

“Andrew Brown is my cousin.”

He frowned, as if trying to remember Andy mentioning her at any time and couldn’t.

“Andy’s cousin? How are you related?”

“Our fathers were brothers. Mine was the black sheep of the family. His father disowned him when he married
beneath
their class.”

“And where are your parents now?” He asked the question as if he knew the answer before she said anything.

“Father died on his fishing boat during a sudden storm when I was six. My mother, grandfather, and her brother were killed when a drunk driver hit our car the night I graduated from college in 2001. When I woke up, Andy and Bel were all I had left, and they brought me to New York City.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For their deaths or for my being in the city?” She poured his Scotch and wondered if this was normal. She didn’t think so. She had a feeling most Doms didn’t chitchat with their subs like this.

A snort of laughter burst from his throat. “Both. Truly about your family and, well, I hate the city. Too damn many people.”

“And no fresh sea air,” she whispered, picking up the sandwich plate and glass. She walked across the room to him. “I’ve gone to the beach here when I was desperate, but it just wasn’t the same.”

“Still too many people.”

“There was that,” she agreed, placing the plate and glass on the table next to him.

When she hesitated at where she should go, he caught her hand and pulled her onto his lap.

“So how did that bring you to the Club?” He felt her entire body go still and gave her a sharp studying look. “Ally, answer me.”

“My ex-husband. The marriage was short, thank God, but…” she swallowed. “I really did try to give therapy a chance, but it just didn’t work. So Andy suggested…”

“The Club?” JW finished. She nodded. He was reminded of Wesley’s suggestion and dismissed it as a possibility for himself. Instead, he focused on connecting the dots that made Ally tick. He needed to find the trigger for her. The one thing that would have her melting at his touch and eager to please him. He needed her trust. He did remember that much. “Does Liam know why you’re here?”

“Of course,” she replied, blinking in surprise at his question. He raised an eyebrow at her error. “Sir.” He nodded. “He wasn’t sure at first, but after completing the questionnaire, he agreed.”

JW picked up half the sandwich and finished it in three bites. As he chewed, he considered what she’d said. He also felt her relax slightly against him. That was good. He didn’t want a terrified submissive. He finished the other half of the sandwich and picked up the Scotch.

“Ally,” he murmured, sipping from the glass.

Her body tensed. Yes, she knew what was coming. He downed the last of the fiery liquid and felt it burn his throat before spreading through his body. Feeling her softness against his chest was creating a different type of heat. Setting the glass down on the table with a thump, he covered her right breast with a heavy hand and kneaded the plump mound. Her breath caught softly and his cock hardened at her reaction.

It had been too long. Over a year of being in the mountains, not wanting to even think about a woman, about anything besides the current mission. And the soft, willing sub on his lap was temptation personified. All he wanted was to bury his cock in her. Lose himself in her heat. For just one moment, forget about the ugliness of combat by exploring her body and making her beg.

He couldn’t fuck her here. Beyond the fact that Liam would need to use the room soon, JW was certain that the public rooms had cameras or monitoring systems. The private rooms probably were discretely monitored as well. Liam was serious about protecting subs and slaves.

Ally moaned and JW realized he was pinching her nipple. As she trembled against him, he saw her bite her lip again. Wondering just how ready she was, he released the turgid tip and moved his hand over her curves and between her thighs. His fingers parted her labia. He could feel the heat and moisture of her arousal.