With her arm linked with Julian’s, Kathryn enjoyed a leisurely stroll through Club Lazarus. The evenly staggered low-voltage sconces along the hall gave her just enough light to read the preference sheet, but barely.
Squinting, she asked, “What’s the difference between a small anal plug and a large one?”
Julian’s comfortable pace came to an abrupt halt. “It’s sort of subjective.”
He moved his hands from close together to outrageously far apart, demonstrating for Kathryn’s benefit that the sizes could range from a little over an inch to roughly the size of a rocket launcher.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re saying getting something shoved up your ass could be a choking hazard?”
Shrugging, he grinned with delight.
“What’s the biggest you’ve, ahem, seen?”
“Mind you, I’ve never partaken of the Wildebeest, but I’d compare it to three cans of soda stacked one on top of the other.”
Kathryn smacked a hand to her mouth, realizing every word of Julian’s study of the wild had to be true. The thought made her gasp. And clench.
“Perhaps you should fill that out with Jake. Hint-hint.” Julian’s patience was waning. “Just tell me why he’s not here. And don’t say he’s out of town, because I know he isn’t.”
“Wait. How do you know that?”
“Nope. Not until you spill. Here.”
Julian gripped her elbow, leading her to a cushioned bench. There seemed to be a lot of them around the place. Some with joysticks. Kathryn took a seat, squinting and realizing that’s not a joystick.
Scooting a few inches to the side, she set down the clipboard and clasped her hands, preparing for a lecture from her semi-nude professor. But in her fantasies, her semi-nude professor was straight and had her strapped to his desk.
Ready for a nonsexual tongue-lashing, she looked up at him sweetly. “What do you want to know, Master Bucky?”
“Start with why you and I are here. And why you seem to know less about BDSM than the sisters of Saint Francis.”
“I just . . .” Her shoulders dropped. “I don’t want Jake to be disappointed. This would be the next logical step in our relationship and . . . it’s no big deal. I’m doing what I always do. Research. I don’t want to look like I don’t have a clue.”
Julian cupped her cheeks in his incredibly soft hands. “I love how you think he doesn’t know.”
Helplessly, she sighed. “Maybe you’re right. We should go.”
“After I’ve exhausted my entire supply of lube? Not on your life. I can’t even begin to tell you what it took for me to get you in here. Sure, your rushed health screening was just the start. And I haven’t been a member long enough to vouch for you, so I improvised. Which means, my little sub, we’re staying, and I’m happy to be your seeing-eye Dom for this leg of your tour.”
Jumping to her feet, Kathryn stood on tiptoe to hug his neck, squealing as she thanked him profusely.
Julian gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime. Come on. Let’s explore this kinky little underworld you’ll soon be calling home.”
“Not yet. How did you know Jake wasn’t out of town?”
Giving her a grin, Julian lowered his voice. “Because he called me earlier, very much in town. He needed some advice.”
“On what?” Kathryn asked, taking his arm to resume their slow stroll.
“Same thing as you,” he teased. “Research.”
Kathryn’s next question was interrupted by noises from a nearby room. The loud moans caught her off guard, the sweet and tortured sounds of pleasure stopping her in her tracks.
“Want to peek inside?” Julian asked, pointing to a door that was left slightly ajar.
“No,” she said firmly, then whispered, “Let’s just give them their privacy.”
“Rule number one,” Julian said, clearly enjoying his teaching moment. “When a door is left open, you’re free to look. Wide open, and it’s actually preferred.”
“What?”
Frozen in place and only half considering it, Kathryn couldn’t bring herself to move toward the open door—the one beckoning with the sounds of want and lust. And sex. A lot of sex.
She’d never seen other people having sex. Not real sex. Not even porn. And sex on a soap opera hardly qualified.
“I don’t think I can,” she whispered.
“Well, you’re smack dab in the middle of a sex club. You’re dirty Dorothy Gale, and I’m your hard Tin Man. Trust me, when we find the curtain the Wizard is hiding behind, he’ll be fucking. Besides, you’re a nurse. You’ve seen naked people.”
“Naked, yes. Fucking, no.”
“Think of it as medical research and not salacious gawking.”
His double-dare glare was all she needed to peek inside.
Sure enough, a burly man was plowing into the backside of a woman who was blindfolded and strapped to a bench. Like the bench Kathryn had sat on not five minutes ago.
Ugh, I need a shower.
Yet, she stayed, researching wide-eyed as two total strangers went at it. With his strong fingers woven through the woman’s hair, the man shoved more of his length in, plowing into her in a steady rhythm that said just one thing. Control.
Kathryn’s breathing shallowed, taking on a rhythm—their rhythm. Her body temperate shot up as her core clenched. It was the first time she’d actually seen sex. Watched it. Studied how a man took a woman. And it was hot.
The man looked up, locking eyes with Kathryn. And like a professional nurse—or an unwavering voyeur—she stared back, unable to turn away.
The amused smile on his face said just one thing. He enjoyed this. Being in the spotlight. Having an audience.
Is he putting on a show?
He smacked his hand briskly on the woman’s ass, and she moaned. After one last thrust, he ended it. Without satisfying either of them, he pulled out.
“We have company,” he said low to the woman still strapped to the bench. “Let’s show her how you take me down your throat.”
Two taps on her shoulder startled Kathryn.
“Ready?” Julian asked, as if she might have been window-shopping for a pair of shoes instead of losing herself in raw, untamed voyeurism. “Or should I grab you some popcorn?”
“Mm-hmm.” Forming words wasn’t an option, and the subarctic temperature didn’t prevent a bead of sweat from making its way down her back.
Kathryn fanned her face as they made their way farther down the hall, reminding herself over and over again that this was research. Pure, scientific, Masters and Johnson meets whips and chains research.
Sure, having Jake with her was preferred. With another glance at Julian’s freshly waxed chest, she mentally reinforced those words.
Definitely. Preferred.
Would Jake be upset, having missed out on her first steps over the threshold into a world that was more his than hers?
Jake couldn’t be mad. She and Julian just happened upon this club. Happened upon it forty minutes outside the city on a “girls’ night.” And it might have been a little off the beaten path . . . with some insane directions Julian knew by heart. His step-by-step directions as she drove led them down a moderately winding but very dark road. They nearly hit two separate deer, and because Julian had actually been there a time or ten, his turn at the next dirt road callouts were the only way they ever got there. In hindsight, she probably should have left behind some bread crumbs. Just in case.
Julian was one of her best friends and a definite girls’ girl. It takes a special kind of friend to hear, “I need to bust into a sex club and check it out,” and immediately respond with, “What should I wear?”
Still amazed, she scanned his wardrobe selection. To clarify, all she’d said was you can’t go wrong with black. Finding pants that were tighter than a condom and screamed peel my banana with your teeth were all on him.
“How do you know so much about clubs?” she asked under her breath.
“You’re engaged to an infamous Dom. How do you not?”
Infamous? Infamous. As in being famous for his bad, bad deeds. As a Dom. Infamous didn’t happen within the privacy of his home. And infamous didn’t happen with just one person.
Did it?
There was a hunger in Kathryn. A need. A yearning to explore that careful blend of pleasure and pain. Succumbing to submission. To desires. To him. Her gaze dropped to the ring on her finger.
“Shit.” Kathryn huffed, looking at the sparkling engagement ring on her hand. “I forgot to leave this at home.”
“Don’t worry. Lots of couples here are married. And if anyone asks, I’m your spouse.”
“True enough,” she said, nodding in agreement.
Julian glanced at her neck, frowning as regret flashed across his face. “We probably should have gotten you a collar.”
Checking her outfit, she took the fashionista biker’s critique with a grain of salt. Seriously, she was an ostrich feather short of being a can-can girl. “I’m not sure adding to this outfit is the answer.”
Deadpan, Julian gave her several slow blinks of disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
“What?” Kathryn might have recalled random mentions of a collar here and there. Faking her adamance, she raised her hand between them, giving Julian an up-close look at the ring with a stone that a Kardashian would have envied. “This is all the collar I need.”
“Not in here.”
Frowning, she asked, “Why not?”
Julian’s forehead dropped into the palm of his hand, giving Kathryn a better understanding of how little, in fact, she did know. “Oh my God. No, child. A collar means you’re owned. Otherwise, you’re sort of fair game.”
In an instant, the subarctic temperature thawed as heat swept up her arms, neck, and face.
Self-consciously touching her bare neck, she gasped. “Really?”
Julian’s hand landed firmly on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ve got one at the front desk.” In a show of solidarity and with enough sass to strike a nerve, he selflessly volunteered. “It’s all right. Remember, in the role of Jake Russo and for one night only, I’ll be your Dom.”
Glaring at him, Kathryn crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t forget. Andi thought I was your Dom.”
“Yes, and if only there were more like Andi to go around,” he said with a snicker. “All I want is a little time on a Saint Andrews cross at the hand of a hot daddy until I’m begging for the mercy of his rock-solid stick.”
Kathryn shook her head with a little shudder. “I did not need that visual.”
Ignoring her, he continued. “But look at me.” Julian stood, all six-foot-one of him, proud to showcase a hundred eighty-five pounds of lean, mean gay sex-god machine. “No matter how I try to downplay it, this pretty package of heavenly goodness screams Dom all night long.”
Giving a few playful squeezes to the bulging muscles of his arm, Kathryn smiled. “Maybe you should let yourself go a little. Eat something other than salad.”
“I think we both know I’m too vain for that.”
“True,” she said, ready to move on.
Looking up and down the dim corridor, she couldn’t be certain which way they had come. And by the indecision on Julian’s face, maybe he couldn’t either.
“Remind me again why you refused the escort?”
“I know how to get to the lobby. It’s just a ways back. But you’ll be alone . . . unless you want to come with me.”
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Besides, if you stick around too long with me, every hot Dom in the place will think you’re straight.”
With a paternal hand on her shoulder and dipping his head down enough to be nearly eye-to-eye, he said, “They haven’t for the last ten years.” Julian planted a consoling kiss to her forehead. “Don’t stray too far. I’ll be right back with a collar for you.”
Breezing past them, a tall man with tattooed shoulders, a delectable eight-pack, and a magnetic smile gave them a wink before deliberately squeezing between them, wearing just the type of mankini they’d quarreled over. Proud as a bungee-wrapped peacock, he sported his impressive package in the tiniest wrapper known to man.
Both Kathryn and Julian turned, following the man with their wide-eyed stares. The exposed taut muscles of his ass munching on the backside of the slingshot proved Kathryn’s point.
“That does not look comfortable,” she murmured.
Julian hummed under his breath. “True. Delicious and lickable, but definitely not comfortable. Perhaps I should recommend he take it off.”
“Hey, you’re supposed to be on a mission for my collar.”
“Can I help it if that scrumptious ass happens to be going the same way I’m heading? Wait here and finish your preference sheet. If you need help, just say red. Any Dungeon Master will help.”
“Dungeon Master?”
“Think of them as wardens. Their word is law. But they’re also first responders. They make sure everyone is playing by the rules and no one gets hurt. They can be any gender. In Club Lazarus, they’re the ones in the masks.”
Julian hurried down the hall and vanished around the corner, chasing the man with the lickable ass. With her luck, Kathryn would be getting collared four or five hours from now.