Master in Shining Armor (Masters Unleashed 4)

She twirled her pen in her hand, then tapped it on her notepad, trying not to let herself get turned on by the thought of Will and that stupid spanking bench.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she tried to think about how to proceed. Will hadn’t stuck around long enough to give her the names of reputable kink sites. Wikipedia was helpful for definitions, and Google turned out to be less scary than she thought—until she clicked on the images tab.

“Why would someone want to tape a woman’s nether regions open?” she muttered to herself. “How is that sexy?” There was a picture of a woman’s ass covered in horrible, angry welts, blood dripping from a few spots where the skin had split. What the in the actual fuck? People did this for kicks? She shook her head then downed her glass of wine. She poured another.

After reading definition after definition, she started to get a feel for things, and found she was getting harder to shock. She couldn’t imagine doing most of the things she saw descriptions of, and doubted she’d even be game to try them once. A few things seemed fairly innocuous, but she couldn’t see how they were hot. A picture of a man sucking a woman’s toes made her squeal aloud and tuck her feet protectively under herself. What was that called? Oh, a hard limit. Toe sucking would go right under being beaten until she bled.

Eventually, her eyes started to feel gritty, and she closed them a moment. Will’s rough voice ordering her to take down her hair echoed in her mind, making her squirm. She complied again, obeying phantom Will, remembering the way he’d looked at her. In a few of the pictures she’d seen, the Dominant grabbed the submissive by the hair. She grabbed a handful of her hair, close to her scalp. Would that be hot? It was hard to tell if she was doing it right. Or maybe having him do it would be what made it hot?

Imagining him doing it was far hotter.

The phone rang, and Juliet almost fell off her chair.

“Stride, Juliet speaking.” Had her voice sounded too sultry? Who was calling so late anyway?

“Juliet, it’s William Ellis from Catacombs.”

Her heart dropped straight into her panties and started to throb there. God, he’d caught her fantasizing about him. Humiliation prickled at her neck and armpits.

She slammed her laptop closed, face flaming, as though he might be able to see the not-so-innocent video she’d been watching. For research.

“What can I do for you, Will?” She kept her tone as formal as possible.

“I need you to come to the club.”

She grabbed her planner out of her purse and sat back down.

“I can see you Monday at about ten a.m.?”

“No. Tonight.” His tone was firm—commanding but not belligerent.

“It’s eleven o’clock.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d already taken your bedtime dose of Geritol.”

Prick.

She heard him cover the phone. There was the murmur of voices for a moment before he came back. “Grant and I both think you need to see the club in use so that you understand it better before you start changing my design.”

“I’ll come by, but not tonight,” she replied. “I’m trying to do research. You didn’t give me any websites, and I’m getting the feeling the Wikipedia entries aren’t really giving me the information I need.”

“Exactly. So get your ass over here.”

Her ass? Nice professionalism.

“I can’t tonight. I’ve had a glass of wine,” she admitted.

“That may be best, considering.” He chuckled. “Maybe it’ll loosen up you—and that bun of yours.”

She ran a hand through her loose hair. Okay, she was going to die of humiliation now.

“I can’t drive over there. It’ll have to wait until at least tomorrow night.”

“No, tonight would be better. A bit more intimate. There’s a good crowd here and good energy, so you’ll get a better feel for the place. Tomorrow night it’ll be too busy, and I won’t have time to play fucking tour guide.”

“So what do you expect? I was about to go to bed. You want me to get out of my pajamas and what? Walk over to watch? I don’t even have anything to wear.”

“What you choose to wear is entirely up to you, Ms. Callahan. I guess it would depend on whether you were coming here to do research or to pick up.” He laughed quietly, and the sound made her toes curl against the cool tile of her dining room floor. “Although I guess if you’re drunk you won’t be picking up here tonight. Drunk people can’t give consent.”