Whatever their relationship was, she needed to see it not just as a besotted submissive exploring her cravings, but as a woman who had to protect her own heart.
--
Apparently, his demonstrations were quite popular, because there were about thirty cars in the parking lot. Club Release only had around a hundred members, so a normal weeknight might host twenty guests, maybe thirty or forty on weekend nights. Having up to sixty in the club at once, as there appeared to be when she came in, was a very good turnout.
As she came to the top of the short set of steps that led from the hostess area to the club floor, she saw him over the heads of the crowd gathered in the main playroom. He was by the large suspension frame. Built by member volunteers out of heavy oak, the wood beams were polished to a gleam. It always reminded her of the inner workings of a tall ship.
If the participants gave permission, instructional workshops like this were filmed and put on the members-only section of the website for viewing. Accordingly, both Dale and the sub serving as his model wore concealing eyemasks, in the event the demos were ever hacked. Even so, she was familiar enough with Sally, a twentysomething blonde, that she recognized her right away. As for Dale . . . he was unmistakable, wasn't he?
He'd already started, was explaining the different ties and loops as he did them. Sally's hands were above her head, tied to an eyebolt in one of the vertical beams, a nonsuspension position where her feet remained on the floor, though her body was stretched upward in a nice display. All she wore was a black thong.
Sally's visible facial features reflected that rapt internal focus Athena now understood from a much more personal viewpoint. That expression merely intensified with each knot. He was making a diamond pattern down her front, similar to what he'd knotted across Athena's back when he had her bound to the griffin.
As he cinched a braided length of rope against Sally's pale pink clit, splitting her labia with the pressure, she swayed. Despite her secure position, he steadied her with a firm hand on her hip. He murmured to her. Making certain she was okay, Athena was sure.
"Hey, there you are." Jimmy's low greeting dragged her attention to the bar. He had her drink already prepared, and she wished she'd brought a shot of something stronger for it. Putting a small straw into the glass, he slid it into her usual spot and gestured to her to join them. There were several other people at the bar, watching the demo on the flatscreen on the wall. Dale had a mic clipped to the neck of his T-shirt, so the audio came through clearly, the deep voice rumbling out of the flatscreen speakers, vibrating through every cell of Athena's body.
As she forced herself into movement, descending the steps, Jimmy's gaze swept over her. He gave a quiet whistle. "Wow. You're dressed to the nines, Mistress."
"I have to attend another party," she lied. "But I thought I'd stop in to see the demonstration first."
"Oh." Jimmy didn't cover his disappointment quickly enough. She expected he, like some of the other subs who glanced her way, had hoped she might be here to play when the demo was over. It had been a mistake to come. She couldn't handle their expectations, their disappointment. Not combined with her own. She'd spend a few moments here, sip her drink, then head back home.
The rope-tying part of the demonstration was now done, but usually, to increase the pleasure of the crowd, the teacher would engage in a session to show how the sub reacted to additional stimulation. Dale had picked up a switch, was testing it. He would apply it to Sally's toned thighs. Perhaps have her spread her legs and give her a few taps there. She would writhe and cry out from the pain, as Athena had done from the ruler. The braided rope he'd positioned snug between her labia would get even more soaked with her fluids when she came. Her nipples were already hard, her eyes behind the mask following Dale's every movement. He had that effect on a sub, didn't he? He was like a sorcerer, bespelling any woman he chose.
She couldn't watch this. She couldn't. She took a swallow of her soda, the carbonation burning, and put it down with a five. "Thanks, Jimmy. I have to go."
"You just got here."
"Sorry, my schedule was already tight. I didn't realize . . . I just have to go." She turned away from his puzzled expression and fled the play area. As soon as she was out of Jimmy's sight, she increased her pace, practically trotting down the hallway toward the hostess station. She couldn't bear to hear that first strike fall, Sally's ecstatic cry of pain.
It was never going to be like it was with Roy. Falling in love so young, growing up together, becoming everything to one another. Ellen was right. So many people never had that dream even once; what right did she have to expect it twice? This was karma slapping her in the face for her greed. She was a submissive, yes. Dale had been right about that. But she wasn't like a Sally or Willow, enjoying play with different Masters as part of their club membership, then returning home to their lives the rest of the week. She wanted one man, one Master, and wanted to be his sub. Committed and faithful to one another, a closed partnership. Intimate in a way that was pure fantasy, because it couldn't happen overnight.
She should have made that clear, and maybe she wouldn't be hurting like this now, but then she hadn't really known what she wanted until Dale opened it up inside her, had she?
She was nearly running, and of course that was never a wise idea in high heels. The thin point wobbled and then her ankle turned, making her stumble. She caught the wall, cursing softly at the pain that shot up her leg. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Though it didn't feel like a bad sprain, one more step told her she wasn't going to be able to walk a step further in the sexy shoes. She yanked them off, resigned to the fact her stockings would be torn up by the parking asphalt, and proceeded at a slower pace.
Fortunately, some other members were coming in when she reached the hostess station, so she nodded a quick good-bye to Susan. A new person she didn't know was working the door, so that, too, was a perfunctory farewell. She moved toward her car, fumbling for her keys. When she looked up, she started back two paces. Dale was leaning against her car door.
He had to have come out the side exit, circled around. And he would have stopped practically midsession, leaving Sally hanging there. What in the world . . .
His attention coursed over her, touched briefly on her shoes, but then he made a more thorough perusal of the dress and something else entered his gaze. Heat and storm clouds.
He straightened, coming toward her. "You shouldn't come out in the parking lot alone," he said shortly. "Why are you limping?" When he reached for her elbow, she jerked away.
"I can take care of myself. You didn't have to leave what you were doing to provide me an escort. Who's watching over Sally?"
"Gerald. He was assisting with the demonstration. Since he taught me the technique, he's more than capable of taking it over. He's been talking to me about sharing the load, because he's getting requests for so many demos lately. Not just here, but at different clubs and a couple cons. There's good money in it."
"I'm sure there is. I'm late for an engagement."
"Athena, hold up. What the hell is this?" He caught her by both elbows, refused to let her go when she struggled against him. "Settle down. Why are you dressed like this? Were you planning to . . ."
She stopped, raising a gaze to him. "What?"
"Were you here to be a Mistress? Or a sub?"
"Why would that matter to you?"
"Because the outfit says you intended to let a man touch you in some way. In a lot of ways." His blue-green eyes flashed dangerously. "That matters a hell of a lot to me."
"Really? You're in there, tying up a naked twentysomething, and you're being possessive?" She yanked out of his grip, glared at him. "What about aftercare? Were you going to cuddle her, stroke her hair? Hold her in your lap when she cried, like you held me?"
The hurt welled up so strong, she felt sick with it. "Get away from me. This was all a mistake. Please just leave me alone."
He planted himself between her and her car, taking her purse in a
smooth grab that suggested a lucrative career in petty theft if he were so inclined. "I'll give it back to you after you listen to me."
"No. I don't want to listen. And don't you dare give me that look. I can be as irrational as I want to be. It's no concern of yours."
"Gerald wasn't just taking over because I went after you," he said. "He took over because that's how we set it up. I explain and demonstrate the rope tying, pick out the punishment, and then he takes over from there. Including aftercare. I'm interested in doing this as a way to improve my skills, to teach others the right way to do it, and to earn some extra cash." His gaze slid over her again. "I'm doing another one next Saturday. Why don't you come as my sub, and I'll do the whole thing on you, beginning to end? He's been pushing me to do solos."
"Jimmy said you'd been here more than once over the past couple weeks, not just yesterday."
"So you were checking up on me?"
"No." She set her jaw. "He called me. He brought up the fact he'd talked to you and that he'd seen you here a couple of times. I didn't ask."
"Why not, Athena? Did you think you didn't have the right?"
"We didn't agree to be exclusive." Drawing her dignity around her, burying her hurt with effort, she told herself she would be an adult. "I know I'm reacting irrationally. That's my problem, not yours. I apologize. If you want to continue to have sessions with other submissives, I just can't do that. I didn't realize it about myself until tonight. I should be able to keep it separate in my head, see you the way Sally or Willow do, but obviously I'm still too emotionally vulnerable. Please move."
He nodded, slid to the left. But when she stepped closer to the car, he caught her wrist, shifting their positions so she was up against the side of the vehicle, and he was standing in front of her, his broad shoulders shielding her from any eyes but his.
"Why did you wear this dress tonight?"
She shook her head, and he put his hand on the side of her face, tilting her chin up with his thumb. "Answer your Master, Athena."
Her gaze snapped up to him, met that steady, no-nonsense stare. Why was he doing this to her? Didn't he understand? Her body trembled at the words, yearning toward them, a shameful betrayal of her heart.
He wasn't waiting for her answer. Or rather, he was occupying himself while he was. His other hand was on her bare back, sliding down over her right buttock to take a firm hold. That storm-cloud look increased. "Christ, you're not even wearing panties under this thing."
"No, I'm not. I wore it . . ."
Oh, for the love of all things, she was not going there. She was not going to humiliate herself. She shoved against him. "Let me go. Please . . . just let me go."
"Athena." The tone of his voice changed in that instant, from that of hard Master to puzzled lover, a far more devastating tactic. When his hands gentled, closing over her upper arms, she went still, staring miserably at his chest. "Athena, look at me."
She shook her head, and he sighed, putting his mouth briefly on the crown of her head, then resting his chin there, so her face was in the curve of his throat. She closed her eyes, feeling the timbre of his voice through her cheek. "I agreed to do the sessions with Gerald a month ago. The original plan was for me to do them beginning to end, on my own. But earlier this week, I told him I was seeing someone, and it was getting serious. I asked him to do the handoff after the punishment choice because I wanted to talk to that special someone about this, see if I could get her to agree to be my submissive for future demos. But I wasn't going to leave him in a lurch this week, since I'd agreed to help him. If you want, you can go in and ask him, verify I'm telling the truth."
She said nothing, though her cheeks were warming now. He slid his hands back down to her waist, thumbs sliding over her hip bones. "You wore this dress to piss me off, didn't you? Make me think that if I wasn't going to limit myself to you, that was a two-way street."
"I'm refusing to say anything."
"Fifth amendment and all that?" There was amusement in his voice, but it wasn't patronizing. When she lifted her head, dared a quick look at his face, there was a rueful expression there, even as his features remained tense, a little angry. "I'm sorry, Athena. I should have told you about this ahead of time. I was trying not to be presumptuous. I wasn't sure you were ready for exclusivity. But then I saw you in this dress, and I realized, whether you were ready or not, I sure as hell was. When I saw you, I couldn't finish up with Sally quick enough. If you'd made a move toward another guy . . ."
Things were feeling a little better now, but she'd gone so far down the other road, it was hard to call herself back from that tangle of turbulent emotions. She did put a hand on his chest, tentative though it was.
"Hey." He slid his fingers into her hair, tugged it so she was looking up at him. "Can we avoid the risk of homicide toward each other and innocent bystanders and confirm we want this to be an exclusive thing, for however long it lasts?"
"I told Lynn to have the bed in my room changed out with one in the guest rooms."
She wasn't sure that was an answer, but it was what came out of her mouth. He nodded. "Which bed?"
"The one in the yellow bedroom."
"The four-poster. Good choice." Possibilities kindled in his gaze. That heat found its way into her lower belly, tendrils teasing other sensitive parts of her. "You still haven't said it, Athena. I want to hear the words. You're mine and only mine."
She stared up at him. "I'm yours and only yours," she said softly.
Even so, she pushed out of his grip, establishing a little space between them. She rubbed her arms where he'd touched her, realizing she wanted him to keep touching her, but that she also needed him not to do so. Her feelings were too large, things too much.
"You need to retreat?" he asked shrewdly.
She didn't want to nod, but her head was already moving that way. "It feels different, being in there, watching you . . . knowing that I'm different now. Not what they all think I am. I need to go home and think it through, get a little space away from this."
He glanced back at the club, then at her. "You're building this place up too much in your own head."
"Probably," she admitted. "It just stands for a lot of things, I guess. Who I was, who I'm becoming."
"Their expectations of you."
Sometimes his ability to nail the point could be as irritating as it was helpful. When she didn't say anything, he reached out, squeezed her hand. "I'll let you off the hook tonight. But that's not going to last forever."
"I meant what I said," she said quietly. About being yours. "But I have to think about this some. I don't act as impulsively as I did tonight. I need to slow things down. All right?"
Since she had no idea what she really meant, she couldn't expect him to do so, but he fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked the car door. Opening it, he leaned in and put the purse on the passenger side, then straightened, gesturing to her to take the driver's seat. "All right," he agreed.
After a brief pause, a weighted silence between them, she stepped inside the shelter of the door. He took advantage of his height to reach over it. He slid his fingers into her hair, drew her up to him for a kiss. She resisted, but not enough. The mouth he put on hers was full of barely restrained tension and need. Those emotions linked with similar feelings in her own chest. When he lifted his head, she had her fingers curled over his wrist, and she didn't want to go, as much as she knew she needed to do so.
"I'll be as close as a phone call, girl," he said. "You reach out when you're ready. But wait too long, and I'll come looking for you. Say it again."
She knew what he was demanding, because the mere command made those emotions leap in her chest like a deer bounding across a cloud-covered meadow at night. Rushing and fast, mysterious and dark. "I'm yours," she whispered.
He nodded, his fingers slipping down to caress her throat. "That tether's there, all the time. You'll feel me tugging on it."
She gripped his wrist harder, then let go, feeling the
loss of his touch as he let her get into the car. He closed the door and stepped back, remaining in place while she turned the engine over. When she was driving out of the parking lot, he was still watching her, the shadows cast by the parking lot lights etching out those relentless planes of his rugged face. His words were burned into her brain; his touch felt branded on her skin.
She thought how crazy she was for leaving him standing there. Then she decided not to think at all.
--
That stasis only lasted until three a.m., when she woke, her body aching and her mind in a whirl. She thought about everything they'd done since she first saw him at Club Release. The lunch at her house, their first session there, the time at the junkyard, in her office . . . the club last night.
Even though she smarted a little from that, remembering his kiss and expressions, the way he'd touched her, helped soothe some of those raw wounds. When she drifted back into a fitful sleep, she held his words to her, let them steady her.
His. More than that, he'd made it clear he considered himself hers exclusively.
Stepping out of the shower in the morning, she studied her backside. The bruises from the ruler beating were fading. She wanted to cup her breasts, stroke between her legs, aroused simply from looking at them, but he'd said that was forbidden. Why had she gone home last night? Why had she gone home alone?
Because she fell to pieces so easily with him, that was why. She'd never been a woman who fell to pieces at all.
It reminded her of a conversation she'd overheard at the reception after Roy's service. Amy, Roy's niece, had been comforting Evelyn, Roy's sister. Evie had kindly mentioned that they should check on Athena.
She's fine, Mom, Amy had assured her. You know how she is. Aunt Athena can handle anything. I think if the whole world stopped tomorrow, the first thing she'd do is make a list on how to get it running again.