Freeing Rowan (Masters Club 3)

They both looked up as Eric approached. “Hey there,” Grayson said. “We were just reviewing some new member applicants. What’s up?”

Nicole, one of the pleasure subs who worked in the kitchen and dining room, glided gracefully toward them, her heavy breasts bare above her apron. “May I get you something, Sir?” she inquired politely to Eric.

“No, thanks,” Eric said distractedly as Grayson waved him into an empty seat.

Grayson, somewhere in his late forties, was a large, burly man with a mop of dark curly hair always in need of a cut. He reminded Eric of a big, shaggy dog. In contrast, Dominique was the height of understated elegance, tall and slender, her silvery blond hair swept up in a loose twist, her makeup flawless.

“What is it, Eric? What’s happened?” Dominique asked, her finely arched brows lifted in question. “Where’s your new trainee?”

“She’s up with Brandon, taking a little time out. I need to talk to you before I continue her training.”

He summarized the failed scene, highlighting Rowan’s skittish, graceless performance.

“Probably just first day jitters,” Grayson said.

“Maybe,” Eric replied dubiously. “But something’s not sitting right with me. I get it she was having difficulty, but her total meltdown is cause for concern. She seemed to be genuinely terrified of the possible retribution. I’d really like to speak directly with her Master before moving forward. I need to get a better handle on the dynamic between them.”

Dominique regarded him thoughtfully. “If you’re this concerned, then so are we. You’ve been a stellar trainer for us, Eric. If you feel something isn’t right with this new trainee, we take that very seriously. As you know, we don’t normally accept trainees from non-members, but we made an exception in this case. Mr. Garfield did have a good reference from one of our members.”

“And I spoke with him on FaceTime before he left on his business trip,” Grayson added. “He seemed like a perfectly nice guy, but I agree with you that something’s off here. One of the main reasons I made an exception was because he expressly asked that we take care of her in his absence. He didn’t want to leave her at home to brood.”

“To brood?” Eric asked, puzzled by the term. “I’m not following.”

“He explained that Rowan is having difficulty accepting the idea of a sister slave. She’s used to having her Master all to herself—used to being the center of his attention. He didn’t want to leave her home alone while she was in that frame of mind. He’s due back in New York in three days. Meanwhile, I’ll definitely contact him and let him know your concerns. Hopefully, she just needs a little time to get acclimated.”

Eric nodded, relieved they were taking this seriously. “What do you want me to do while we’re waiting to connect with the guy?”

Dominique glanced at her husband, who, apparently having received her telepathic message, gave a small nod. Returning her calm gaze to Eric, she said, “Continue with her training. But keep it low-key for the time being. Hold off on the more intensive aspects of the regime until we get some answers. Use this time to try to get at what her underlying issues are.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Eric agreed.

Chapter 2

Once on the fourth floor, Rowan had expected Brandon to take her to the small bedroom where she was to stay during the course of her training, and which she’d briefly seen earlier that morning.

Instead, he stopped at a different room. He tapped a code into the keyless lock and swung the door open. Waving a hand, he gestured for her to enter, following just behind.

“Welcome to my haven.” He looked around the small space with evident pride. “When I’m not sharing Mistress Dominique and Master Grayson’s bed, that is,” he added with a wink.

The room had the same basic setup as hers, with a single bed in a wrought-iron frame against one wall, a small desk and an old-fashioned freestanding wardrobe on the other. But there the comparison ended. Unlike the white duvet on her bed, his was draped in black satin. While her walls were bare, the walls of Brandon’s room were decorated with whips, floggers, canes, coils of rope, cuffs and chains of every variety.

“You like?” Brandon queried, flashing a brilliant smile. He was an extremely attractive dark-skinned man, his light eyes a startling but appealing contrast. Though not especially tall or broad, he was muscular and well-proportioned.

“It’s really something,” she replied sincerely, glad for the distraction of his easy conversation. While she’d managed to calm down, she remained deeply embarrassed over her total bungling of her very first session. She was still anxious about the inevitable repercussions, the trainer’s assurances notwithstanding.

As her gaze moved over the impressive array of impact toys, she spied the large flogger hung just above his bed. A frisson of desire shivered through her at the thought of feeling its soft leather thongs thudding against her flesh. “You’ve got some gorgeous pieces here. Are they just for decoration or…?”