Page 3 of Master My Love

He raised his hand to her burning cheek. “Relax. You’ll see a helluva lot more skin once you’re inside. I have a meeting to attend in about an hour, however, which doesn’t leave us much time. What’s your decision?”

She hesitated, still stuck on inadvertently flashing him.

It’s a sex club, for crying out loud. She wasn’t naïve enough to think there wouldn’t be nudity. And according to Kate, the dress code was leather, latex, and lace, the skimpier the better, not nuns’ habits and monks’ frocks. Her little nip slip was tame compared to what she expected to see.

He lifted her chin with a single long finger. “I need your answer.”

Though he spoke softly, his tone was exacting, not teasing anymore.

Val could feel her heart pounding in her ears and all the pulse points in her body. It was now or never!

People joined this type of club for one reason, to fulfill a desire, whether to dominate or submit, spank or be spanked, flog or be flogged, and certainly, to fuck and get fucked. Was she any different?

When she tried to speak, the interchange between her brain and tongue failed, and nothing came out.

“I’m going to assume that’s a no. Too bad, because I see plenty of what-ifs and regrets in your future.”

He pinched her chin gently before he turned and mounted the stairs two at a time. He’d reached the doors, his hand moving toward the lever when she made up her mind.

“Wait!”

As fast as her stilettoes would allow, she dashed up the steps behind him. Swallowing nervously, she prayed the ability to speak intelligibly had returned.

“You’re right. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with regrets. If the offer for a guided tour is still open, I accept.”

“Atta girl. If nothing else, you’ll go home with your curiosity satisfied.” Gallantly, he offered her his arm, waiting until she curled her fingers around it. “What will I be calling you tonight, little subbie?”

“I’m Valerie, sir.”

“A beautiful name, but I bet your friends call you Val. May I?”

More comfortable thinking of him as a friend, she nodded. As his smile deepened, a dimple appeared in his cheek. Lord, he was devastating. She didn’t think for a minute he hadn’t left a trail of broken hearts in his wake.

“I’m Antonio and a host of other nicknames I won’t get into. But tonight, I’m Master T to you, little newbie. Say it for me.”

“Master T.”

“Very good. Shall we go in, darlin’?”

Angling her head, she peered up at him, realizing what had been bugging her. “Do I detect a Southern drawl?”

“Ah, you’ve caught me. I’m San Antonio born and bred.”

“I hale from Austin, myself.”

“So, I’ve rescued a fine yellow rose tonight. My mama would be proud.” Covering the hand on his arm with his own, he gave a gentle squeeze. “Oh, to be a California native,” he said with a sigh of regret.

“And about fifteen years older.”

He barked with laughter. “Too young, huh?”

“Sorry, but I have a son not much younger than you.”

“Haven’t you heard you’re as young as you feel?”

“Since being here has my hands shaking, and my knees weak, and I suspect gray hairs are sprouting as we speak, it still makes me older than you. Not cradle-robbing ancient, mind you, but enough to make it seem creepy.”

His grin flashed yet again. “We’ll be friends, then.” He tipped his head toward the doors. “Ready?”

---