Page 18 of Worth the Risk

Chapter 5

“ATWIST OF LIME FORthe vodka gimlet, a strawberry on a sword for the daiquiri, and nothing except ice and two shots of whiskey in the highball glasses.” After she added the garnishes, Bella scanned her order pad to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. Marcy, who was training her, kept up with everything in her head. On less crowded nights like tonight, she could probably pull it off, but she wasn’t about to risk screwing up in her first week.

Ready to deliver to table 9, she tucked her pad and pencil into her apron pocket and lifted the tray. Before she turned, she felt someone come up behind her, and a deep, soul-stirring voice asked, “How’s your knee?”

Bella tensed. She’d been expecting to run into him. The club was huge, and they worked in different areas, but the bar seemed to be the central gathering place for members and staff. He had to be pissed she’d stood him up. If he’d done that to her, she’d certainly would be. With a clink of ice and glasses, she set the tray down on the bar and, like an adult this time, faced him.

But all she saw was a broad chest, the black Jersey knit covering it stretched to its limit from the muscles underneath. Her eyes tracked upward, a long way up—she’d forgotten how tall he was—until they met steel gray. Why did he have to be so handsome and a sadist?

“It’s...better, thank you. It was nothing...really. Just a little cut,” she said, flustered by him standing so near and embarrassed by her nervous stammering.

If he noticed her discomfort, he didn’t let her off the hook. Instead, he shifted, his body moving even closer as he arched a smooth, dark brow. “If it was nothing, should I assume you make a habit of no-showing without a word to someone you have plans with?”

Bella couldn’t hold his gaze, dropping it to his chest. It was late when she got through that night. She was tired, her knee stinging every time she bent it. Mostly, she left without telling him she’d changed her mind because finding out Dan was way out of her league left her disappointed and fearful. Not of him so much but herself. If he turned on the charm, she’d cave, getting herself into more trouble than she was already in.

But with time and a little sleep, not to mention doing a bit of internet reading, specifically an extremely spicy, fictional BDSM novel with a sexy sadist and a sub who craved every crack of his whip, she’d gained perspective. Now she felt bad about her cowardly and inexcusably rude behavior, but also intrigued and dying to know if he actually whipped his partners or if his sadistic passions involved something else.

“I’m sorry, I just...wasn’t feeling well,” she mumbled, knowing it was a pathetically weak excuse.

His hand beneath her chin angled her face up to his. “I’m a fan of open communication, Bella. Let’s try that moving forward, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” she responded automatically. Her eyes flew wide, surprised by how much she sounded like the submissives she’d observed over the past week.

Dan didn’t smile exactly, but the little white tan lines beside his eyes crinkled. He also nodded, silently acknowledging the respectful response, as if it was his due.

“I trust you’re feeling better now?”

“Much better. Thank you.”

“I suspect another reason you stood me up may have been you heard talk about me and got scared,” he continued without allowing her time for a response. “I’m a dominant first and foremost. I like control, but I’m not interested in a slave or 24/7, but neither am I just a bedroom player. On the spectrum, I’d fall somewhere in the middle. I’m also a sadist. Not hardcore, but I enjoy administering the level of erotic pain and control my partner craves. I want you to know that you can trust me, Bella. I’d never do anything you didn’t consent to.”

Gazing up at him, she considered his words, but more so, his touch, warm and gentle but firmly in control. It was the same the other night. She also wanted to run her fingers through the thick mop of waves on top of his head. Piggybacked on that notion was gripping it when he had his mouth on her breast or his face between her legs.

Never had she been so attracted to anyone ever. Did his age and experience have something to do with it? Or was it his lifestyle and his preferred form of sexual gratification that seemed so foreign and taboo—and wickedly exciting?

“Just the label...sadist, frightens me,” she replied with the honesty he’d asked for. “I’m new to all of this. Going extreme right out of the gate isn’t something I’m sure I’m ready for.”

Dan took another step closer. A deep breath would have the tips of her breasts brushing his chest. “My brand of kink isn’t for everyone. I get that, which is why I don’t tie every sub I’m with to a whipping post and go full guns with my short tail.”

Eyes wide, with her fears validated, she took a step back. But he followed, an arm sliding around her waist.

“Would it surprise you if I told you I don’t own a short tail?”

“I assume that’s a whip.”

“You assume right.”

She shoved his shoulder. “Then why did you just say—”

He caught her hand and held it to his chest. “I was teasing you, Bella.”

Glaring at him, she tried to pull her hand free, but he held tight.

“As the joke goes, sir. Don’t give up your day job.”

“No plans on that just yet,” he replied. “I enjoy my brand of kink, but I respect limits and safewords, or I wouldn’t be an active member here. In fact, I’m willing to say I’m more careful with consent and limits than a lot of doms here because there’s more at stake.”

His gaze drifted over her face until it fixed on her mouth, which was the same moment she licked her lips—a nervous habit since high school. When she realized why he was staring, she stopped and rolled them inward, effectively hiding them.

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