Page 75 of Breaking Free

Tristan came to an abrupt stop in front of the dungeon doors and cursed under his breath. “I thought we could escape their bad stand-up comedy in the playroom, but you can’t after Margaritaville.”

“But I didn’t have any.”

His head swung her way, brows arched in question. “None?”

“Not a drop,” she confirmed. “Tequila isn’t my thing.”

“Good. We can start your lessons tonight,” he said, on the move again.

“We can?” she squeaked.

He held one of the giant doors open for her but caught her arm before she entered. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

Piper shook her head, the butterflies in her stomach taking flight again, both dreading and yearning for another scene with Tristan. Other basics, whatever they were, maybe not so much.

“I’m nervous, I’ll admit. But I can’t get the jail cell and what we did or rather, what you did to me, out of my head.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and his eyes were bluer than she’d ever seen them. He wanted this, too.

Piper relinquished her shoes and followed Tristan inside. The wall muted Northern Exposure’s rock sound, but with them still playing, the room was practically empty, and they had their choice of open stations.

Tristan didn’t hesitate on the steps. He descended quickly, with her rushing to keep up.

Halfway down the first row, he stopped an attendant. “If you’re not busy, would you grab my bag behind the bar and bring it to me at station 20?”

“Things are slow, Master Tristan. I’m happy to,” the uniformed older woman assured him.

He thanked her, pulling Piper along again. “You didn’t get to experience rope bondage last time. I can introduce you to a few basic ties tonight.”

When he stopped again at the end of the row, a wave of panic swept through her. “Yellow!”

He glanced down at her in shock. “What’s wrong? We haven’t done anything yet. Is it being on the main floor?”

She pointed at the giant wheel in front of her. “That’s gonna be a big, giant, flashing red for me, sir.”

“I didn’t forget you telling me that during your tour.” Tristan took her by the shoulders and turned her in the opposite direction toward an innocuous-looking padded table behind a red velvet rope.

“Oh.”

“Back to green?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry.”

“No apologies necessary.” He opened the velvet rope and let her enter ahead of him. “Clearly, you recall the club’s safewords and aren’t afraid to use them. That’s good. Don’t take on more than you can handle because you’re trying to be perfect or are afraid you’ll disappoint your top.”

She heard a soft cry and glanced across the nearly empty circuit to a woman, bound spread-eagle on a table similar to the one she stood beside. The reason for her cries was the hot wax being dripped all over her naked body.

“Piper? Are you listening?”

“Uh-huh,” she replied vaguely, wincing as a hot blob of purple wax landed on the sub’s nipple. She arched off the table as much as she could while restrained, letting out a loud hiss.

Tristan stepped in front of her and nudged her chin up. “I don’t speak just to hear myself talk. You need to pay attention.”

“Sorry, but...” She bent to the side to look behind him. “I think I found another flashing red.”

He did a quick about-face to see what she was referring to, in time to see the dom splash wax directly on her pussy.

Piper whispered, “That’s gotta hurt.”

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