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The Mile High was everything Serena had foretold it would be. It was like everything she had ever told Alexis about bondage and domination come to life in living color: red leather booths, dim lights, paddles and yokes, dog collars and boot-clad Mistresses.
Serena looked giddy.
Valentina, on the other hand, was not having a good time.
No wonder,Alexis thought. Valentina had an awesome 1940s style; it was a great vibe, and she looked fabulous every day when she went to work. But here, at The Mile High, she stood out like a sore thumb in her pretty mauve chiffon dress and her hair in a classic chignon. She was wearing dainty rose-colored pumps that probably cost more than the waitresses and bartenders here made in a month. She looked like a spoiled little rich girl among a horde of sexy Amazonian S&M goddesses. Alexis and Serena had tried to talk her into wearing something more fitting for the venue, but she had stubbornly refused to “dress up like a slut.”
Alexis hadn’t needed any prompting; she’d been waiting for a fun night like this for a long time. She had donned a white leather mini-skirt along with thigh-high boots for the occasion. Around her neck, she wore a simple silver necklace with a diamond-encrusted ship’s anchor charm that fell neatly between her breasts. She didn’t look like a sex goddess, but she didn’t look like a fish out of water, either.
Serena, on the other hand, fit in perfectly. At well over six feet tall in her thigh-high stiletto boots, she loomed over Alexis and Valentina. Her porcelain skin and naturally deep red hair contrasted stunningly with the skin-tight, black-leather Cat Woman jumpsuit she wore. Her willowy, statuesque frame made her look like a supermodel.
“You look like a tiger,” Valentina had derided as they left the apartment.
“Damned right I do,” Serena had bragged assuredly. “A fucking sexy tigress.”
“You kind of look like a slutty sailor-girl,” Valentina had told Alexis.
She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not.
She was going to take it as one and run with it.
The night was young.
* * *
“Fancy meeting you here,” a baritone voice said behind them when they arrived at the bar. “Welcome to The Mile High.”
Valentina grunted outright.
“Ethan Daniels and his evil sidekick,” Valentina huffed.
“You’re the last person I expected to see at The Mile High,” the good-looking man commented with a smirk to his friend.
“Ditto.”
Valentina side-eyed her friends. Serena’s drawn-on eyebrows jumped upward a mile. A shit-eating grin split Alexis’s angelic face. That was Ethan Daniels? And who the hell was the raven-haired Adonis next to him?
They were handsome as sin.
“Why don’t you introduce us to your friends?” the tall man recommended presumptuously.
Serena and Alexis turned in unison and slunk away, slipping out of sight behind a mammoth man wearing a sailor suit.
“Whew. Now I understand the crush,” Alexis observed once they had escaped to the far side of the club and out the back-terrace doors. The duo strode up to another bar located outside near a huge, crackling bonfire. It was September and the night air was already getting chilly in the Windy City. At a table near them was a wealthy-looking man with a stunning blonde woman staring timidly at her feet.
“What’s going on there, then?” Alexis asked, referring to the couple.
“Oh, she’s a sub,” Serena replied casually.
“A what?” questioned Alexis. “A substitute? That’s nasty.”
“A submissive,” explained the tigress. “A person who agrees to do everything the other person says. No matter what. Anywhere, anytime, any way.”
“Wow,” Alexis said, eyes wide. “How do you even get involved in something like that? Do you just…ask someone to be your Dom or your sub?”
“Something like that, only it goes a bit further.” Serena’s eyes shone. “Once a couple decides they’re a good fit, the Dom will claim the sub.”
“What do you mean, claim?” Alexis laughed. “Brand her like a steer? Tattoo her forehead?”
