Sneak Peek from Chapter 1
Anya talked with Sunny about the different kinds of drinks Wicked offered as well as nibbles that could be ordered from the kitchen. Thankfully Anya had studied the material provided during her orientation and could remember most of the drinks and food without having to double-check the bar menu. There was a restaurant portion of the club where members could dine for the evening, but on weekends, most members preferred to play in the club and eat at home.
By the time Sunny had the drinks for Master Isaac’s party loaded onto a tray, Anya was feeling a little more comfortable with the surroundings. The Hall of Mirrors bar, as this section of the club was known, was divided up into six sections. Anya and Sunny handled their area while other bartender/server teams handled the other five sections. The room they were in seemed massive to Anya; Sunny had told her that inside the private areas of Wicked, where the real kinky stuff happened, there were bars that were triple the size of The Hall of Mirrors. The server/bartender teams who worked in the private sections of the club were all veteran employees at Wicked. Each bar had its own theme, and the employees that worked there were expected to know exactly how they should behave. For example, in a high protocol bar there were all types of social nuances that the server was expected to know, while in the pet play area, it was considered the norm to serve the submissives there out of silver bowls on the floor. It seemed weird to Anya that anyone would want to be treated like a dog, but that’s what some people liked.
Anya had learned to unfocus her gaze when naked people strolled by, looking at a spot over their shoulder. Fortunately the naked people were almost always submissives, so she usually dealt with their Master or Mistress. And sure enough Mr. Florentine had been right about the compliments. Every group she’d served had something nice to say about her appearance. While she couldn’t stop her blush, saying thank you instead of stammering out some reason why she wasn’t pretty was getting easier by the minute.
Sunny finished pouring the last beer and set it on the tray. “There you go. Master Isaac is toward the back of the room, on the left. Kitten, his fiancée, is wearing a gold cat mask, so that should help you find them. If you can’t spot them, you should for sure be able to spot Master Hawk. He’s the Native American man with the yummy long black hair held back by a silver clip.”
Another one of the servers came up, a stunning woman with hair like ebony silk that reached all the way to her buttocks, and beautiful dark honey-brown skin. She wore a flowing gown that exposed her perfect body and a green mask that made her emerald eyes almost glow. She was stunning, probably the loveliest woman Anya had ever seen in person, even with a mask obscuring half her face, but the look she gave Anya was far from friendly.
“Why are you sending her into my section?” She jabbed her red-painted nail in Anya’s direction.
Sunny narrowed her eyes, and her tone turned chilly. “Look, Goddess, Master Isaac requested her. You know the rules. Doesn’t matter whose section they sit in if they request a server.”
Goddess turned on Anya and looked down her nose at her. “Fine, but keep your hands off the guy with the long hair. Master Hawk is mine.”
“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sunny snorted, anger tightening the fine muscles around her eyes. “Goddess is under the delusion that since Master Hawk briefly played with her a few months ago, he’s her Master now. Funny since Master Hawk barely remembers her.”
“I may not wear his collar yet, but neither do you.” The other woman stepped closer, invading Sunny’s space as much as she could with the bar between them.
“You had better back the fuck off before I slap the bitch out of you,” Sunny growled back in a menacing tone totally at odds with her demeanor up to this point. Anya stared at her.
Goddess leaned over the counter, her nose almost touching Sunny’s. The two women radiated enough hostility that Anya was afraid they were about to fight. The air crackled with tension, and she noticed the bartender nearest to Sunny, Onyx, coming over with a stern expression on her face. While most of the bartenders were submissives, Mistress Onyx was not, and Anya didn’t want to be in her way when she reached the two quarreling women. Already fire flashed in the Domme’s dark eyes, and an almost visible wave of command emanated from her.
Only an idiot would stick around for the fireworks about to go down, so Anya tugged the tray out from between Goddess and Sunny, grunting beneath its weight. “I’ll just take this over to them so Master Isaac doesn’t get mad at me.”
The two women ignored her, and Sunny said in a low voice, “He may have fucked you, but obviously whatever you had to offer, he doesn’t want seconds on.”
“You white-trash cunt!” Goddess gripped the edges of the counter hard enough to turn her knuckles white.
Mistress Onyx smacked her hand down on the bar, loud enough so it drew the attention of Sunny and Goddess. “Dove, go take that to the Masters. I’ll deal with these…ladies.”
Anya turned and moved away, not wanting to get caught up in the drama. Really she shouldn’t be surprised. If this wasn’t an atmosphere ripe for jealousy, she didn’t know what was. Still, she was relieved when she glanced over her shoulder and saw Goddess storming away from a now contrite Sunny and an imposing Mistress Onyx.
Moving carefully through the increasing crowd, Anya made her way to the back of the room and quickly spotted Master Isaac. He was seated across from two men sprawled out over the opposite couch, one with long, dark hair held back in a clip and the other with short, deep auburn hair. Next to Master Isaac sat a beautiful woman with a golden cat mask like Sunny had described.
Plastering a smile on her face, she moved around the side of the sofa the men sat on, and said, “Master Isaac, I have your…”
Her words died off in her throat, choking her as she stared at her boss, the father of the children she watched, Jesse.
Dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a brown leather vest that hung open to expose the broad expanse of his chest, he looked amazing. She’d never seen him with his shirt off, and despite her shock, a part of her brain registered that he was as built as she’d dreamed. All big muscles and strong lines. Soft brown hair curled on his chest and trailed down his belly to the bulge of his crotch. The jeans clinging to his thighs were nice and worn, revealing the vague shape of his dick. Ripping her gaze away from his nether regions, she swallowed hard as her attention returned to his face. When their gazes met, she found herself drowning in the deep brown of his eyes. His strong jaw flexed, and she had the inane urge to touch his short, well-kept beard.
Panic froze Anya to the spot, and she waited for him to say something, to recognize her but he continued to stare at her as she stared back at him.
“Dove?” Master Isaac asked. “Are you okay?”
Kitten leaned forward. “Someone grab the tray for her before she drops it.”
Master Hawk took the tray from her unfeeling hands and placed it on the table. “Miss? Are you all right?”
Suddenly, Master Isaac laughed. “I see what the problem is. One of Mistress Chrissy’s subs is kneeling behind you guys, giving the world a view of the phallus his good Mistress has shoved up his ass.”
Master Jesse and Master Hawk turned around to look, then both made a pained sound and turned back. Master Hawk gave a dramatic wince while Master Jesse rubbed his eyes. “I should have known better than to look. My asshole hurts for that poor sub.”
Master Isaac stood and turned her to face him before releasing her arms and taking a seat next to his fiancée. “Dove, don’t be frightened by the harness the man is wearing. He’s a very happy and willing submissive, and I assure you despite the size of the dildo currently inside of him, he is quite all right.”
Master Isaac’s words rushed in a meaningless stream over her, and she looked back at Jesse. How could Jesse not see who she was? Yeah, she was wearing a mask, but damn, she knew every inch of his face. And yes, this was probably the first time he’d ever seen her hair in anything other than a tightly pinned bun. Little boys and long hair didn’t mix well, but how could he not know her? She turned all the way to face him and watched his gaze travel from her breasts, normally covered by loose shirts, to her lips, normally bare of any kind of lipstick, and finally to her eyes.
The sad realization that Jesse really didn’t pay any attention to her as anything other than his nanny hurt. She almost wished he would speak up, even though it would mean the end of both her jobs. No way would Jesse let someone who worked here watch over his kids. She should run away right now, make some excuse about being overwhelmed or something.
Too bad her feet refused to move.
Kitten laughed. “Jesse, grab her before she falls over.”
Anya almost fled before Jesse could touch her, sure he would recognize her up close, but as soon as his strong arm gently tugged her into his lap, she froze. He tipped her chin up and smiled at her, arranging her so she fit comfortably against him. “You are a nice armful, little one. Are you all right?”
She nodded, unable to speak, caught up in the heat of his body against her, the smell of his expensive cologne. He continued to look down at her, and her breath hitched in her chest when desire began to warm his eyes. Passion flared between them and her whole body came alive. Something about his attention sharpened, and she felt like he was really seeing her this time. His gaze swept down her body with obvious appreciation, pausing on the swell of her breasts, the deep valley of cleavage between them. Beneath her bottom, his cock began to harden, and she didn’t know if she should cheer or scream. This was Jesse, her boss, the unapproachable man who barely registered her existence. The man she’d dreamed and fantasized about from the moment she’d met him.
Unable to form a coherent thought in response to his question, she nodded again and hoped he would let her go but prayed he wouldn’t.
He glanced over his shoulder again and gave an exaggerated wince, the move shifting his now very hard and long erection against her. “I can see why you’d be a little shocked. It appears as if Mistress Chrissy put a telephone pole up the poor guy’s ass.”
She blinked at him, unable to tear her gaze away. Any second now he’d figure out who she was, and she’d be fired from this job or her position as a nanny or both. Anxiety twisted her stomach into tight knots, and nausea filled her. Despite her discomfort, she couldn’t help the tiny surge of joy at being held in his arms, admired by him, turning him on.
He cupped her face with his free hand and stroked his thumb across her lips. “Do you have a name?”
She took a quick breath. Her overstretched nerves couldn’t get any tighter, so she began to tremble. “Dove.”
“Dove.” He stroked her cheek behind the mask, his touch lighting a fire between the cradle of her thighs. “Lovely name, and it suits you. Now, Dove, I want you to breathe with me. Keep your eyes on my face and ignore everything else.”
That wasn’t hard to do, considering for her he was the only person in the room at the moment.
“Deep breath in, hold it, and now out.”
His low, whiskey-rough voice washed over her. It reminded her of when he would work with a new horse at the stables on his property. She’d watched him in secret, playing with the boys in the garden near the pastures and drooling over him as he coaxed a young gelding to do his bidding.
“Such a good girl. Keep breathing with me. Relax and let me hold you. You’re safe here. Nothing is going to hurt you while you’re in my arms. Now breathe.”
They did that a few more times, and slowly her heartbeat returned to a somewhat normal rhythm. She was still as stiff as a board on his lap, but with every passing second, her hopes rose that he didn’t know who she was. When he looked at her like this, she didn’t want to tell him the truth, wanted a few more minutes of being the focus of his attention. The feeling of him, the scent of him was intoxicating. If she wasn’t careful, she’d never want to leave his embrace, and that could only lead to disaster.
Keeping her voice disguised, she tried to move off him. “I’m okay, Sir. You can let me go now. I’m probably squishing you.”
Master Isaac and Master Hawk both laughed while Jesse grinned down at her. “The day I’m squished by a little thing like you is the day I need to hang up my spurs.” He tightened his hold on her and whispered in her ear. “Besides, I enjoy holding you, and if you don’t object, I’d like to do it for a few more minutes.”
Unsure if he really meant it or he was saying that because he felt bad for her, she attempted to get up again. “Really, you don’t have to—”
His grip tightened again, this time holding her firmly in place against the hard lines of his body. Her desire surged, and her empty sex contracted. She tried an experimental wiggle, but he didn’t budge an inch. Staring up into his eyes, she relaxed against him, accepting his hold on her. Truth be told there was nowhere she’d rather be than in his arms.
“There, that’s a good girl.” He brushed his hand along her neck, stroking the delicate skin with his rough fingertips. Jesse still had the work-roughened hands of a man who grew up working on his grandparents’ ranch, and she shivered beneath his caresses. Keeping his touch gentle, arousing, and teasing at the same time, he watched her closely. “Have you ever been anywhere like this before, Dove?”
She shook her head, dimly aware of the two Masters and Kitten having a conversation while they sipped the drinks she’d brought them. “No, Sir.”
“Hmm.” The sound was a deep bass rumble that vibrated her bones. “Have you ever experimented with BDSM?”
“No, Sir.” She flushed and thought about the time she’d let one of her ex-boyfriends spank her, but it had been more embarrassing than arousing.
His hand curled around her throat, effectively holding her like a gentle collar. “Now, now. It’s not a good idea to lie to a Master.” She blinked up at him in confusion. “Your blush gives you away, Dove. So why don’t you tell me what you’ve done.”
Mortification chased back her stupefied arousal. “That really isn’t any of your business, Sir.”
“So polite, even when telling me to piss off.” He smiled, his straight white teeth shining against his faded tan. “You are a shy little thing, aren’t you? But so pretty, and you fit against me just right. The things I could do to you…”
Unable to stop her foolish mouth, she asked in a breathy voice, “What kind of things?”
“Oh.” Moisture flooded the cleft between her thighs as her imagination ran wild with the dark, sensual promise of his words.
Master Hawk laughed. “Stop tormenting the poor girl.”
Kitten reached out and lightly kicked Jesse’s leg. “Great first impression, psycho.”
Jesse laughed, breaking the intense mood between them, and finally let her scoot off his lap. “Fine, fine.” Before she could fully escape, he grabbed her hand and raised it gently to his lips, the hair of his beard brushing her skin in a pleasant manner. It was as soft as she’d imagined. “Dove, if you ever have any questions or you want to try something out, let me know. In fact, I’ll be staying later than usual tonight. Come find me when you’re done. No pressure. I’d just like to talk with you.”
“I’ll think about it, Sir.”
With that she turned and fled their section, absently noting there was indeed a male submissive nearby with what looked like a tree-trunk-sized dildo held deep in his ass by some type of harness.