The brunette’s hostess waved in their direction and Dierk glanced back, realizing she was signaling Rolf. Clearly, his brother hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said he spent a lot of time in the club—which begged the question of why he’d turned down the offer to run the place.
Dierk made a mental note to ask him later.
“She’s heading this way,” Rolf stated the obvious. “Maybe she’s looking for a Dom for her friend.”
“And I’m the man on the moon,” Dierk said, noting the newbie’s tight expression. She wasn’t nervous like the average new submissive was. There wasn’t a speck of curiosity in those deep mocha-hued eyes of hers. Only fear, mixed with a little…hostility?
Interesting. What was her story? Dierk couldn’t wait to hear it.
Wynne had never been so petrified.
Hello. She was in a real, honest-to-God bondage dungeon. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so out of her element. Not even that one time when she’d gone with Kristy to that freaky art exhibit downtown, where people wearing plastic clothes handed out free samples of condoms, and rows and rows of tables loaded with sex toys lined the enormous warehouse. That had been years ago, when they’d been in high school. Catholic high school. She hadn’t even known what half those sex toys were for.
Maybe she should’ve known then that her friend wasn’t exactly cut from the same cloth as she. But like her therapist had said, she’d probably just wanted to believe what she’d wanted to believe, rather than seeing her friend as she truly was.
It had taken both her therapist and Kristy two weeks to prepare her for this. Already, she was ready to go home. There was only one thing, or rather two, keeping her from turning on her heels and saying sayonara to Twilight forever. And that thing, or things, weren’t the ones she’d expected.
Instead of staying to find out more about bondage, or more specifically why anyone would want to seek out a Master, she wanted to find out a little more about the godlike men Kristy was waving at.
“Hi, Master Rolf,” Kristy said, reaching behind her, no doubt to catch Wynne’s hand and coax her up closer.
Master Rolf. Guess he wasn’t an employee. Wynne was happy to stay where she was for the moment, thankyouverymuch.
Kristy motioned to the second man. “It looks like we’ve both brought guests today.”
Now, that raised Wynne’s hopes. If the second guy—who was jaw-droppingly gorgeous—wasn’t a regular at the club, then he might not be a part of the scene yet.
“Hi, Raven.” Master Rolf smiled. “This isn’t a guest. He’s my brother, Dierk. He’s taking over as general manager of the club.”
Manager. That was acceptable.
“I see,” Kristy responded, nodding over her shoulder at Wynne before cranking on the charm for the new manager. “It’s good to meet you, Dierk. Dierk and Rolf, this is my friend Wynne. And I’m sure you can tell this is her first visit to a bondage club. She’s totally new to domination and submission, so she’s a little nervous.”
Great. Thanks, Kristy, for pointing out I’m the new, clueless kid on the block.
She pasted on a smile, hoping they wouldn’t all look at her like she was a freak. How humiliating. Maybe they’d even make her wear some kind of special badge or something.
Dierk the manager gave her a long, disconcerting once-over. Down went his gaze from her face to her toes and then slowly it meandered back up. She could almost feel his gaze as it swept over her body. Her skin felt tingly all over, her nerves twitchy and raw. “Hello, Wynne,” he said in a low, rumbly voice that reminded her of a cat’s purr.
The man was like sin incarnate, the very opposite of what John had been, with his sun-bleached hair and boy-next-door good looks. Dierk had dark hair, almost black, cut in shaggy, messy layers. His face was all hard angles, his eyes too dark to clearly make out the pupils. And his body…He was huge, built like a professional athlete, all muscles and sinew and raw power.
Kristy jabbed her in the ribs, and she realized, embarrassingly, that she’d been standing there, mute and stupid, staring like a groupie at a rock concert.
She didn’t need Kristy to make her look like an ass. She was doing that well enough on her own.
Too nervous to trust her voice, she merely gave him a weak, shaky smile and nodded her head, then turned her gaze to his brother.
Master Rolf wasn’t far down the gorgeous scale from his brother. There was most definitely a family resemblance. He also had that dark, wavy hair, although Rolf’s was a little longer, the bottom layers skimming the tops of his shoulders. His face was as hard edged and fascinating as Dierk’s, although it wasn’t identical. And his body was just as big. And just as breathtaking.
Rolf offered a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Wynne. If there’s anything my brother or I can do for you, just let one of us know.”
“Th-thanks.” Staring into his eyes, Wynne placed her trembling hand into his, expecting him to shake it. Instead, he raised it to his perfect mouth and brushed his lips over the back.
It felt like her skin was on fire, both on her hand and on her cheeks. Sure he could see the blush that had to be radiating from her face, she tugged her hand free and dropped it in front of her, flattening the other one against it.
God, she had never felt this way around a guy before, not even John. She was tongue tied, witless, practically falling over her own feet. What was wrong with her?
Nothing was wrong, she reasoned. Not a thing. It was this place that was making her all jumpy and skittery. And the knowledge of what these men probably did here.
She hadn’t even dared let her gaze wander around the large room yet, although she could hear voices and the occasional snap of a leather whip.
Adrenaline pounded through her body, fueling her instinct to run, making her stomach twist and palms sweat. She swallowed hard a couple times.
“…which is why my friend Wynne is here today. She’d like to watch, learn a little about the lifestyle, why people choose to play domination and submission games,” Kristy explained. “And she’s looking at it from the submissive side, which is why I’m not much help to her.”
Geesh, Wynne hadn’t even realized Kristy had been talking that whole time. She’d been distracted by the two gorgeous brothers. Or maybe it was the loud pounding of blood in her ears that had muffled her friend’s soft voice. She could only hope that Kristy had stuck with the plan. It was simply too embarrassing to admit she was coming here to find out why her fiancé had dumped her for a gay Dom. So instead, they’d cooked up this story about her writing a romance novel about a woman’s first experience with BDSM.
“I can show her around,” Master Rolf volunteered, “since my brother’s going to be busy all night, handling some important general manager–type things.”
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