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Ellen woke abruptly, panic blooming as she thrashed and struggled to get free. As she came more fully awake, she realized her pillow was over her face, her limbs caught in the twisted sheets.
Reality came crashing back like a tidal wave. She nearly cried out from the force of it. Damon hadn’t been in her bed. He hadn’t smiled sleepily at her and held out his arms. She was alone. He was gone. With a cry of frustration, she hurled the pillow across the bed.
At least it was morning. She could get up, get going with her day and put the stupid dream behind her. It was worse when she woke in the middle of the night, certain he was beside her, only to realize she was alone.
In the three days since they’d parted, she’d done her best to move forward—to let go. Kayla had gotten her through that first awful night. And work had been a great solace and distraction in the ensuing days. When she was painting, her mind emptied, her focus entirely on her illustrations.
The evenings were the hardest. She wanted to hate him. That would have been so much easier. But it was hard to hate what had made her feel the most alive.
Jaime had texted her several times, offering encouragement and understanding, and sending information about upcoming auctions. While Ellen didn’t yet feel ready to commit to another Dom for any length of time, she appreciated Jaime’s continuing concern. She was turning out to be a real friend.
As hard as this week had been so far, Ellen was proud of herself. She’d promised herself in no uncertain terms that she would not be the first one to reconnect, and so far at least, she’d stuck to her guns.
Which wasn’t to say she hadn’t composed a dozen or more texts on her phone.
Hey, there. Just checking in how you’re doing, Sir. I hope you are well.
Good morning, Master Damon. I was thinking about your offer to meet at the club. I’m game if you are!
I miss you, Damon. Do you miss me?
Please reconsider extending our contract, Sir. I miss you so much. I need to feel your strong arms around me at night. I long for the kiss of your whip. I want to cook breakfast for you. I want to watch movies with you on your laptop while we eat buttered popcorn and snuggle by the fire. I want you to tell me you love me. I want to wear your cuffs and your collar and your marks…
Obviously, she hadn’t been foolish enough to send any of them. It had just been a release—a way to acknowledge her feelings and then, with a touch of her finger, wipe them away. It wasn’t just a matter of submission that she refused to be the first to reach out. It was a matter of pride.
The fact she was even still holding out hope, albeit a hope that diminished with each passing day that she didn’t hear from him, was a testament to her own stupidity. Damon had been very clear from the get-go that he had no intention of pursuing anything with her past their one-week arrangement.
Now her cell phone pinged beside the bed. Heart leaping into her throat, she reached for it. She was pretty sure Damon was overseas by now for that special project of his, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t text.
Grabbing the phone, she tapped it awake and held her breath as she looked at the message.
Her heart sank back into its place. It wasn’t from Damon. It was from Kayla.
Morning, sunshine! I have some exciting news. Curtis and I are going to Lair Sade tonight and guess what? Curtis’s super-hot, sexy college roommate, Jordan, is in town. He’s interviewing for a job here and… wait for it… he’s into the scene! And not just some dabbler wannabe, either. He’s a serious Dom who knows his way around a BDSM dungeon. AND he’s single. AND he’s coming with us tonight. ETA: 8:00. So, what do you say? Are you going to stay home and watch sad movies and cry into your wine? Or are you ready to squeeze yourself into your sexiest corset and heels and meet us for a night of serious play? Pretty please with a cherry on top – say yes!
Thumbs poised, Ellen started to reply in the negative. Then she stopped herself. Damon had been clear from the beginning that he was in it for the short term. What good was she doing herself by pining for someone who clearly wasn’t interested in pursuing anything past their single week together? Maybe a night out at the club was exactly what she needed to get out of her own head.
Leave your matchmaking hat at home, please. But count me in for tonight .
When Ellen arrived at Lair Sade at little after eight that evening, she recognized what she thought was Curtis’s blue Tesla. After entering the club and paying the entrance fee, she put her cell phone and clutch purse in a locker and tucked the key in an inner pocket of her coat. Removing the coat, she hung it on the rack provided for the purpose.
She had taken Kayla’s advice and put on her sexiest black leather corset, the one that barely covered the tops of her nipples. Beneath it she wore black satin panties and sheer black thigh high stockings. On her feet were her favorite black platform heels.
As she entered the dungeon, she saw Kayla, Curtis and another guy seated at one of the high-top tables in the juice bar. Kayla spotted her and waved her over with a big smile. She wore a skintight white nurse’s uniform, unbuttoned to reveal most of her breasts. Curtis, who had a gorgeous bod by any measure, was wearing a white lab coat over a bare chest, a stethoscope around his neck, his legs clad in black leather.
As Ellen approached their table, both men rose. After both Kayla and Curtis hugged Ellen hello, Curtis introduced her to his friend, Jordan. Kayla hadn’t been lying. The guy was very easy on the eyes, with wavy blond hair, light blue eyes and a chiseled jaw. He was dressed in a white pirate shirt, the ties opened to reveal a smooth, tan chest, tucked into caramel-colored leather pants.
“We got you a juice, too,” Kayla said, gesturing toward a glass of orange juice over ice.
“Thanks,” Ellen said, sliding onto the empty stool.
The four of them engaged in small talk as they sipped their drinks. After a few minutes, Jordan turned to Ellen, his eyes sliding from her face to her breasts and then back to her face. He narrowed his eyes in what Ellen could only assume was supposed to be a smoldering look as he ran his tongue suggestively over his lower lip. “Kayla tells me you’re a highly trained submissive. I’m looking forward to finding out for myself. I’m an expert in suspension bondage and heavy impact play,” he added. “I hope you’ll join me for a scene tonight.”
Suspension bondage and heavy impact play sounded like just the thing to help her get out of her own head. “Sure,” she agreed. “I’d be honored, Sir.”
“Master,” he corrected in a stern, theatrical voice. “You will address me as Master Jordan.”
Ellen avoided making eye contact with Kayla, afraid if she did she might laugh. He sounded like a guy in a play, reading from a bad script. She ordered herself to stop being so judgmental.
