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I’d nearly forgotten I had them.
“You promise not to try to escape?”
“You’re paying me well enough; I have no desire to escape. I’ll let you know if that changes.”
Smart girl. “I’ll need you to unlock them for me. I’m putting a tracking app on both. It’s non-negotiable.”
She frowns but holds out her hand.
I set both of the slim devices in her palm and wait for her to unlock the screens.
When the tracking apps are installed, I pass them back to her, brushing her skin with mine as I do.
“We’re going to the club tonight, so be back here before five,” I say.
Zara laughs. “I like to shop but not that much.”
“You’ll need to wear something all black to the club. And we need to discuss the rules.”
“There are rules?”
“Several. Chief among them is that you have to at least pretend to be my submissive, which means total obedience.”
She scoffs. “Good luck with that, Mr. Bowden.”
I grip her arm before she can storm off. “I’m serious, Zara. This is important. We believe in consent and all the other tenants of safe BDSM, but we are also unique in that we cater to some very specific types of people. And if we don’t have order and structure, we can’t do our jobs.”
“And that order and structure demands I be submissive? What if I’m not a sub? What if I’m a Dominant?”
I smirk. “Then I guess for one night you’ll have to switch. I’m a Dom at the club. Not just any Dom. One of the owners. That requires a certain level of respect to be maintained. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do, other than call me Sir and obey if I ask you to do something like sit in a certain spot or follow me somewhere. But you have a shopping trip to prepare for and I have business matters to attend to. We’ll talk over dinner.”
She turns on her heels and disappears into the bedroom without another word. Something tells me taking her to the club could be a disaster. But it could also go very well if she’s willing to let her guard down a bit.
I’m sure that’s difficult in her line of work, though. Somehow, some way, I’ll get through to her. The more time I spend with Zara Blaire, the more I’m convinced I need a taste of her.
An hour later, Skylar is back at our door with two bodyguards. Zara holds up the phone. “All charged. I’ll text if we’re running late.”
“You won’t run late. I already made sure of that with Matteo.”
Zara frowns and looks at Skylar who just shrugs and says, “The life of a submissive when all of her Dom’s friends are also Doms.”
That makes Zara laugh, and I wish I were the one causing it.
When they’re gone, I sit in front of my laptop and try to get some work done, but it’s pointless. I can’t seem to concentrate. So, I pull up the tracking app.
I’m not even sure how I got down to the garage, but the next thing I know I’m sitting in the parking garage for the shops they’re at.
“What are you doing, Luke?” I ask myself in the rear-view mirror. There are a million tasks that need my attention right now, and I’m following Zara. And it’s not because I don’t trust her, or I think she’s in danger. It’s because I just want to be near her.
Before I can get out of the car, my phone rings.
“Get over to the warehouse as soon as you can. Pratchett is in town but not for long. He wants to meet,” Owen says when I answer.
“On my way.”
At least he saved me from myself.
Reluctantly, I drive away from the shops and try to put the gorgeous raven-haired woman out of my mind as I head for the warehouse Matteo owns. It’s where we conduct a lot of our less than legal business, and it’s where we meet when we’re worried about someone overhearing us. I wonder what Pratchett wants. He’s one of our closest allies in Clark County, but it took a while to get him in our back pocket. He serves as a senator in D.C. for the state of Nevada but calls Las Vegas his home when he’s not across the country making laws.
