Page 25 of Breaking Free

Moving on, the booth beside it was right up his alley—ropes and suspension supplies. While the hardware was standard, the range of rope available, including hemp, jute, and dyed cotton in an array of vibrant colors, earned the seller a four.

Club members crowded around a rather large booth in the first bend of the circuit. With his height advantage, he could see over the heads in front of him. Everything from corsets to dresses to bras and harnesses in leather and suede, in not only ubiquitous black but royal blue, red, hot pink, and vivid purple.

Glancing down at his clipboard, he gave this vendor a five for original thinking. In the lifestyle for nearly two decades, black had become tedious.

He was ready to move to the next display when the two subs ahead of him shuffled away with their purchases. This left Tristan staring at a woman in a short lavender dress bent over behind the table. The lace at the top of her stand-up stockings showed beneath the short hem, which had ridden up as she dug through a box. More interesting was the hint of round cheeks left bare by her minuscule panties. If she were his sub, the panties would be the first thing to go.

“Aha!” she exclaimed, rising triumphantly with a red leather corset in her grasp. “I knew there was a size twelve in here.”

Her honey-blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders, bared by the snug strapless dress. A flush tinted her cheeks, while her eyes sparkled with excitement—familiar blue eyes.

“Piper? What the hell?” His crudely growled question caught everyone’s attention. Heads turned, including his neighbor’s.

“Tristan? Oh, uh, hi,” she stammered, tugging up the flagging neckline of her dress while pulling down the hem. There wasn’t enough material to cover both adequately, however.

“Master Tristan,” one of the other submissives helpfully suggested.

“Oh yes. I’m sorry,” Piper replied, clearly flustered. “I keep forgetting the rules—but there are so many of them.”

He didn’t miss how her cheeks, now a deeper shade of crimson, stood out in striking contrast to the fair skin of her shoulders and the soft shade of her dress. She didn’t belong here, but there was something undeniably alluring about her in this setting—a blushing innocent in lavender amid a sea of black leather and kink.

How exhilarating would it be to introduce her to the pleasure of his ropes and so much more? But a stronger instinct was rising inside him, the need to protect.

“Why are you here?” he demanded, his tone low and tense.

“I’m working.”

Some subs worked at the reception desk or waited tables in the bar to offset the hefty membership fees. But Piper wasn’t a member. At least, she hadn’t been when he left a week ago.

“In what capacity?” he inquired, his eyes scanning the array of leather fetish wear surrounding her.

“I’m helping Josie. This is her booth.” She reached across the table for a business card in a holder.

When her breasts swelled above the leather neckline, threatening to spill out, he ordered, “Stop! I’ll get it.”

He grabbed on and glared down at it.

Leather and Lace

Custom-made erotic clothing. By appointment only.

Josephine Valente, proprietor

Surprise, surprise. Until that moment, he hadn’t a clue what Hunter’s niece and houseguest, who seemed only slightly more worldly than Piper, did for a living. Probably because he’d never asked. Who was oblivious now?

“These are her designs,” Piper explained, waving her hand at the extensive display. “She makes them all herself.”

“Hey, beautiful. I have two questions,” a domme interrupted to inquire, grinning broadly. “Can I get this cupless bra in pink? If so, would you model it for me?” Her appreciative gaze trailed down Piper’s body, pausing at her chest before gliding over the lace-adorned tops of her thighs.

“Less is more,” a deep voice interjected. It belonged to Master Thomas, also a Rossi man, who had joined him at the table. “I’d rather see her in the red catsuit,” he stated, eyeing Piper with the same predatory intensity as the domme.

Tristan had already spotted the one-piece, form-fitting garment with cutouts at the breasts and ass. It also had laces at the crotch that could easily be undone to reveal the “more” Thomas referred to.

He tried to tamp down the irrational surge of jealousy swelling inside him, as well as the anger. The latter wasn’t directed at the others but at himself. He wanted to maintain a distance between them while also preventing others from paying her attention, which was messed up. But he knew the world she was stepping into and the dark desires that lurked in the club’s shadows and in the minds of his fellow doms.

Without thinking, he reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her out from behind the table.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she hurried to keep pace with him.

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