More than a Dare (Masters Club 4)

Dahlia shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin, determined line. She rose from the stool and took a step back. “I’m really sorry, Hayden. In a lot of ways, this has been the most amazing weekend of my life. But I-I just need a little time off, you know? It’s all too much right now. I realized while I was crammed in that stupid cage—”

“Dahlia,” Hayden began. “Don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes again filling with tears. “I just need some time, okay? Please give me that. I need to go now, back to my own apartment, my own space.”

He wanted to refuse her. To tell her he was the Master, and he would decide if or when she’d had enough. He wanted to keep her there by force, if need be, until he brought her back to her senses.

Instead, he said, “Dahlia, running away never resolved anything. We just need to recalibrate. Take things slower. We can work this out. You can become the slave girl I believe in your heart that you long to be. I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe,” she said dubiously. “Maybe not.” She twisted back to look through the large windows at the clear blue sky behind the skyscrapers. “But I know myself. If I stay here and let you talk me into something I’m not ready for, it’ll make things worse.”

She reached out, placing a hand lightly on his arm.

“I’m not saying it’s over. I’m just saying I need a timeout.”

With that, she walked back through the living room and into the back hallway. Not knowing what else to do, Hayden followed her. In the bedroom, he watched in silence as she pulled on her clothing and picked up her bag. Running her fingers through her thick blond hair, she offered another sad smile.

“I have to go, Hayden. I hope you can understand.”

No. He didn’t understand. But he did see she was determined on this course of action.

If she walked out now, would she ever walk back in?

“Okay,” he said, pleased at least that his voice hadn’t cracked. If she wanted out, who was he to stand in her way?

He silently followed her back through the apartment to the front hall. He watched her pull on her coat and sneakers, tears burning at the back of his eyes.

As she opened the door, she turned back, offering a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “See you later, Hayden.”

At least she hadn’t said goodbye.

Chapter 27

Hayden sat in the auction room at the Masters Club that evening, nursing a brandy as he stared into the fire burning in the old stone fireplace.

“Happy New Year, Sir. May I get you another drink?”

Hayden looked up to see Rachel, a staff service sub who also worked as a pleasure sub in the evenings. She was wearing a bib apron cut to expose her small, high breasts, a blue collar around her throat. “Or perhaps something to eat?”

“Oh, uh. Happy New Year, Rachel,” he replied, forcing a tight smile. “I’m good, thanks.”

At that moment, Jack Hartford, one of Hayden’s best friends at the club, appeared in the doorway. Cleo, his slave and partner, was nowhere in sight. When Jack saw Hayden, his face lit up in a warm smile, and he strode toward him.

“Hey there, stranger. Haven’t seen you around in a while. Still breaking in that newbie of yours?”

Ignoring the question, Hayden waved a hand toward the empty chair catty corner from his. “Where’s Cleo?”

“She’s helping a new recruit prepare for her audition before we go out to dinner. She warned me she might be a while.”

Jack had been one of the first guys he’d met when he’d joined the Masters Club. Though they’d kept in touch, Hayden had missed Jack when he’d been transferred to London for his work. He was glad when he’d returned to New York.

Rachel appeared, greeting Jack with a shy smile. “Good evening, Sir. Can I get you something from the bar or kitchen?”

Jack flashed her a bright smile in return. “I’ll have a beer, thanks. Oh, and some of those homemade kettle chips. Those are awesome.”

As Rachel went to fill his order, Jack tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing. “What’s up with you?”

Hayden took a swig of brandy. “Nothing. I’m chill.”

Jack stared a moment longer and then shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

Hayden took a smaller sip of his brandy, aware he needed to slow down.

Jack gave himself a sudden, dramatic slap to the forehead. “Wait. I know what it is. Which pleasure sub pissed you off by failing to kneel with the proper submission to Master Hayden? Is she waiting back in the dungeon for her punishment, strung up on the rack?”

“Huh?” It took Hayden a second to process what Jack had just said. He managed a halfhearted chuckle. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m just tired, I guess.”