Three Guilty Pleasures (Blindfold Club 6)

He followed my gaze. I’d forgotten how good he was at reading me. “The collar? So there’s no mistaking who’s in charge.” He was so serious tonight, all business. “I’ll step out for a minute and let you make your decision. If you accept, put it on, and we can begin.”

I didn’t know what to say as he moved toward the door and opened it.

He turned over his shoulder as he crossed the threshold. “Think carefully. If you wear that, you’re agreeing to my rules. It only comes off when I say so, or with a safe word.”

And then he disappeared, pulling the door shut behind him. I frowned and pulled my arms through the robe, cinching the sash tight around my waist. As far as I could tell, Joseph had never lied to me. He’d been the one to set me free, and my submissive side wanted to fling herself at his offer.

But he’d also told me I wouldn’t like some of the things he’d demand.

Joseph wasn’t cruel, but he was . . . intense. He lived to push. I was fragile right now. What if his pushing made me break?

I stared at the collar. It was a simple piece of leather and metal, but it carried heavy meaning. Rules, and pleasure, and likely pain. I’d come to the club to be numb, and he was offering the opposite.

But if I didn’t do this, I’d be filled with regret. Worse—I’d still be the same way I was now. He’d promised I’d feel better, and he’d always delivered on his promises.

I picked up the collar and slipped it around my neck, trembling as the cold steel kissed my skin.

-34-

Tara

Joseph had only been gone a minute, but I waited in tense anticipation for a century for his return. What would he do to me? Would I find release and be able to purge the sadness from my fractured heart?

My breath hitched as the door opened. He stood in the hallway, his hand still on the doorknob as he peered into the room, and his gaze found the dark collar ringing my neck.

His posture straightened, his shoulders pulled back. His expression filled with satisfaction, and power rolled through him. Shivers of pleasure shook my body. He could do that in a single look. Let me know how pleased he was with me. It flooded me with warmth.

His smile reached deep into his eyes. “You’ve made the right decision.”

He stepped into the room, and people trailed behind him. Silas, Regan . . .

. . . and Grant.

I scrambled backward on the table, so close to the edge I nearly fell off. “No,” I cried. “Stop. Red.”

“Yes,” Joseph’s tone was plain. “Those are all safe words you can use once w

e get started. But first, we need to go over the ground rules.”

He stood in front of me, and Silas and Regan were together on my left, their hands linked. Grant lingered alone near the back of the room, his eyes fixed on me. I tore my gaze away, refusing to look at him. I focused back on Joseph, and anger clenched my stomach.

“No, Joseph—”

His expression went hard, and I’d swear I could feel his eyes tugging on my collar as a reminder. “It’s ‘Sir’ tonight.” He turned and spoke to the rest of the room. “And that goes for all of you.”

Holy. Shit.

He’d given me the collar, he’d said, so I wouldn’t mistake who was in charge. Because in this room, there were four dominants, and I’d submitted to each of them.

“At no point,” he continued, his voice demanding attention, “will you speak, unless you are told to do so.”

I swallowed hard. Silas looked unaffected, but Regan’s gaze dropped to the floor. She’d maintained a position of power here at the club, and being told what to do by anyone, especially a man, would be a struggle.

“You all agreed to this. I give the orders, and I expect them to be fucking followed.”

“No,” I said. “Stop. Red.”

Joseph came to me, and I expected disappointment. I was safe-ing out so early, but this was a different Dominant than the one I’d had before. His edges were sharper, but the rest was smoother. Softer. He gently grabbed my shoulders, making it so I couldn’t look anywhere else. He was forty now, but time had only made him more handsome.