Boss

The driveway seemed to meander forever, flanked by huge hedges.

Eventually what appeared to be a mansion came into view. It wasn’t anything she imagined a BDSM club might look like.

He pulled up into a long driveway, and valets opened their doors.

Nathan came around to her side. His bag was slung over his left shoulder. He cupped his right hand beneath her elbow and guided her up the stairs.

Instead of going inside, he drew her to the far side of the wraparound porch where they’d have some privacy. “Before we go in.” He put down the bag and lifted out her collar. “I didn’t ask you to wear it before now. It’s probably a good thing. We scared Mr. Martinez plenty.”

She gave a laugh that she knew revealed her skittishness.

“Please lift your hair.”

Within thirty seconds, he had her collared.

“Damn. You’re even more appealing now.” He looped his finger into the D-ring and pulled her close enough for a tender kiss. “You’re going to be fine,” he told her.

“I trust you.”

“That’s my perfect sub.”

Inside, they were met by a hostess wearing a dark suit and friendly smile.

“Mr. Donovan,” the woman said. “And Ms. Lane. Welcome to Deviation.”

Kelsey realized then that the security guard had probably radioed ahead. Classy.

She’d expected something dark and maybe shadowy, but this more closely resembled a fine restaurant or boutique hotel. The entryway had a stunning, geometric pattern in the wood flooring, and the club’s logo was inlaid. A couch-height table was made from cherrywood, and it was flanked by two elegant Queen Anne chairs. Potted palms provided the area with privacy. An unusual waterfall seemed to run perpendicular to a wall, and lights danced off the splashing drops.

She heard music and voices, but both were surprisingly muted.

“Have a seat, and we’ll get the details taken care of.”

While the woman took her place behind the desk, Kelsey and Nathan sat in the chairs that were angled toward each other.

“Ms. Lane, I need you to sign the disclaimer and agree to club rules.” A pen and the appropriate paperwork were already waiting.

Kelsey scanned the agreement that included the standard legalese but also indicated that Nathan had sponsored her, and since she was a guest, she agreed to remain with him for the rest of the evening. People drinking at the bar were unable to scene afterward. It also indicated that the club’s safe word was red. Club Monitors wore black blazers and watched all the happenings and had the authority to stop scenes. Members and guests were encouraged to talk to a CM before intruding on someone else’s scene.

The final rules for the common areas were underlined. No sex. No bare genitalia. And women were not allowed to have exposed nipples.

Feeling as if she’d entered a foreign country, she signed her name.

“May I take your jackets?” the hostess asked.

The perfect gentleman, Nathan helped Kelsey before shrugging out of his and turning both over for a claim check.

Nathan placed his hand just above her buttocks and guided her past the plants. As she approached the waterfall, the angle shifted. She stopped to look at it. Then she realized she could see through it as if it weren’t there.

“It’s a hologram,” he explained.

“Wow.”

He put his palm on a pad on the wall in front of them.

Like something out of a sci-fi movie, an opening appeared.

They walked through, and her senses were assailed.

Music thumped in a primal beat.

Women danced sensually in cages seemingly suspended in air. She had to look twice, unsure whether or not they were real. They appeared lifelike, but…

The area was open, with only a few benches scattered around. She didn’t see any windows, and the back wall changed colors while she watched, from purple to green to red, seething in time to the music.

Floors were crafted from rich wood, so dark they appeared black. The room had stunning architectural features—chandeliers and elegant, Grecian-looking pillars that should have been incongruent with the stark equipment, but somehow it worked.

From her online research, she recognized the St. Andrew’s crosses, but they looked bigger, more structurally sound than the ones she’d seen. In a couple of places, people were being bound with colorful ropes. There were a number of sturdy suspension hooks hanging from the ceiling. In the middle of it all was a round pole that had to be at least eight or nine feet tall. Most of it was covered in black vinyl, but the top was glossy wood.

Courage fled, and she stood rooted in place, staring.

Obviously sensing her distress, he guided her to the right, toward a large, private area with chairs, a couple of couches and rows of small, elegant lockers. The top ones had brass nameplates, the others appeared to be available to anyone. Right now, they were the only people in the alcove.