Bad Pet (His Pet)

My heart is beating a mile a minute. What I have to do is suddenly so obvious it makes me laugh. I must mess all that rigid perfection up.

Hips swaying exaggeratedly, I step forward. The crowds around us part and hold their breath. Most have stopped their dancing, flirting, and fucking to stare at the men in black. Some, with knowing glances, are looking at me. They think they know what’s coming, but they have no idea.

I don’t either.

My body takes over three steps in. Blinded by desire, I don’t think. I just move. Behind the mask, I can act on pure impulse. Nothing holds me back.

I smell the stranger’s cologne as I get close, a mix of musk and sandalwood. It sticks in my nose, making me feel wild. My eyes search his face; stunningly handsome with a defined jaw and high cheekbones. His eyes are the lightest blue I’ve ever seen. It’s almost unworldly. Yet, he looks out at everything with disdain as his lips purse.

The man has no idea what’s coming.

My open palm slams into his perfect chin—hard. The sound of the slap is so loud it can be heard over the music.

Some of the other patrons gasp. The leader’s followers jump back. They raise their hands, bringing their fists up, ready to defend.

A large, strong hand grabs mine before I can pull it away. His cheek is already turning red. As the leader stares into me, rage is in his ice-colored eyes. His body shakes slightly with tension. He’s wound tight and just aching to let go.

Behind my mask, I keep my chin high. One does not back down once a challenge is thrown.

The grip he has on my hand gets tighter, to the point of pain. Lips quiver slightly. Then, as he blows a tiny breath out of his nose, his mouth relaxes into the nastiest smile I have ever seen.

The leader’s two men look ready to kill me. Yet, he waves his other hand to his side.

“Stand down,” he grumbles in a voice so gravely it causes shivers over my skin. “This bad pet just wants to be punished.” His eyes burn into mine. “Don’t you, pet.”

I don’t answer; I just defiantly hold his gaze.

He chuckles as he rubs his jaw and glares at me. “Looks like tonight is going to be interesting.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Chapter Two - Owen

I like initiative, but this girl is cocky. I admit, it makes my stomach flip to be slapped in front of my men, but it’s an invitation I can’t refuse. This misbehaving pet is asking for it.

As my face stings, I look at the lady in front of me. Dressed in a tiny black number, she’s primarily legs—long, long legs with well-rounded caves and slim thighs. Her feet are small, odd for her height. With a low neckline, the dress shows ample amounts of cleavage. As I glance, her breasts tremble—with fear or desire. I figure she knew this was a risk. It’s bold that she chose to go through with it anyway.

I meet the eyes behind the black satin mask, defiant and brown, and do the next thing that comes to me. I grab the woman by the dark brown bun on the back of her head, pulling her to her knees onto the bar floor.

“That’s what you deserve, pet,” I hum at her. “A bad girl like you deserves to be on her knees. You’ve succeeded in getting my attention, but you don’t know who you are dealing with.”

Behind me, I can hear Mike and Russel, my detail, laughing. These two are used to my particular tastes and have accompanied me to multiple BDSM clubs. When I’m busy, they indulge themselves.

Surprisingly, the woman doesn’t lower her eyes. “It’s true. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. I want you to take me to one of the private rooms and fuck me.”

My mind goes blank for a second. Good pets don’t talk back. To be somewhere like the Dark Club, this girl must be experienced. She’s purposefully blowing the rules.

I like it.

This is my last night in Manhattan. I intend to get the most out of it and this girl.

Fingers still twisted in her hair, I pull up. She doesn’t grab at her head or stumble. No, this woman rises like a queen. Her body language intrigues me. This is going to be a challenge.

“Mike, room, now.” I wave my hand behind me but don’t turn from the girl. Our gazes are locked. Finally, she drops her head, turns, and struts towards the private rooms in the back hall. It doesn’t matter which one. I know my guy will handle the charges.

The Dark Club is one of my favorite places. I used to frequent it a lot before I got married. It’s been ten years, and this is the first time I’ve been able to visit again. My divorce is final, but New York’s no longer my home. That all makes this trip bittersweet. Just one last fling before I finish my business and return to DC and the Pentagon.