More than a Dare (Masters Club 4)

He’d offered to come to her place. Should she take him up on it?

She looked around her drab, pre-furnished rental with a sigh. She hadn’t changed the sheets in over a week. And anyway, it was the middle of the workweek. She had three procedures scheduled for tomorrow, the first one at eight.

“So what?” she said aloud. She’d learned long ago to survive on only a few hours’ sleep. A little fatigue had never stopped her before.

Was she making excuses to keep him at arm’s length?

What was she afraid of?

She could tell herself it was because she needed to keep her focus on her work, especially during this first year as she got herself established. But that wasn’t the real issue.

So, what was it?

When she quieted all the noise in her head, she understood her hesitation was twofold. First, there was Hayden himself. He’d dropped enough hints that she understood he didn’t “do” relationships. He apparently got all the gratification he needed from his position as a Head Master at that club of his. Objectively speaking, it was crazy to get too involved with a guy who made no bones about the fact he liked to play the field.

Then there was their work situation. No matter the outcome of their relationship, they still had to work together. While she despised the expression, “don’t shit where you eat,” the sentiment was a valid one. Things could definitely get messy.

Last but not least were her own confused feelings on the matter. She’d always been a person to dive deep into whatever she was doing, giving it one-hundred percent of her attention. For the past decade, that focus had been on her career in medicine.

Now she was ready at last to pay a little more attention to her love life. But this whole BDSM thing had unleashed something in her she wasn’t entirely sure she could contain. In a way, she felt as if she were perched above a long, dark hole, with no idea of its bottom. One missed step, and she’d tumble down into it, losing herself in the process.

“Enough,” she said aloud, suddenly too tired to think straight. “A meal, a hot bath and a good night’s sleep are what you need right now.”

She opened the message app.

Just got home. I need to eat and take a hot bath. Long day tomorrow. Can I have a raincheck?

He replied with a string of frowning emojis that tugged a little at her heartstrings. Then he added:

If you change your mind, even if it’s midnight, just pack your bag and come on over. I’ll tell the doorman to expect you. I’ll drive you to work in the morning.

She shook her head, smiling. It had been such a long time since a guy had pursued her—since she’d even noticed the absence of a love life. Naomi, who always had several guys vying for her attention at any given time, had assured Dahlia that, once she was ready, the men would come flocking to her. It was Naomi’s theory that people gave off a subconscious vibe that either read as “I’m available,” or “Stay away.” According to her, Dahlia had been giving off the stay away vibe ever since med school.

No question about it, her “vibe” around Hayden had shifted from let’s just be friends or even friends with benefits. No, something far more powerful—and dangerous—was happening between them. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be writing Hayden and her names inside a doodled heart on her prescription pad.

She went to the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the tub. While waiting for it to fill, she went to the kitchenette. There, she took a frozen dinner and put it in the microwave.

The tub always took a while to fill, so she ate her dinner straight from the container while she was waiting. She kept her phone nearby with the sound turned on, just in case…

Once she’d eaten and washed her fork, she poured herself a glass of Pinot Grigio and carried it with her back to the bathroom. Stripping out of her things, she climbed into the tub and settled back with a contented sigh.

She soaked, eyes closed, letting various passages from Dark Confessions surface from the recesses of her mind.

There had been one scene she’d returned to again and again over the years. The girl’s Master had just caught her masturbating. The Master hadn’t allowed her an orgasm in over a month because of some other infraction Dahlia could no longer remember.

Slave m. didn’t hear her Master return home. She’d been so caught up in what she was doing that she hadn’t heard her Master enter the bedroom where he slept on the bed, she on a little mat on the floor in shackles. She’d been sprawled on the bed on her back, eyes closed, her hand busy between her legs, when the sound of footsteps had penetrated her consciousness.