This is who I am

Chapter Seventeen

On Saturday, Linda, trying to remember everyone’s names, brought up the rear of the women piling out of the bachelorette party limousine. She’d already met Andrea, Jessica, Kim, Gabi, and Beth. Kari was the submissive of another Shadowlands Master. Sally, Uzuri, Rainie, and Dara were trainees—submissives who didn’t have a Dom but wanted to learn more about the lifestyle.

None of the women were her age, but the common interest of BDSM had bridged the gap. A couple of glasses of champagne hadn’t hurt the bonding either.

She’d decided the women were all crazy. On the ride over, they’d told stories of what not to do to a Dom and other mistakes they’d made. Like the night a tired Uzuri had downed two coffees before a scene. After the poor Dom spent ages on the bondage and suspension, she’d had to beg for a bathroom break. Or Gabi, who’d gotten mad at Marcus and used his favorite canes as fireplace kindling.

Just the idea of doing that with one of Sam’s toys was…appalling. Oh, she might enjoy the look on his face for all of a few seconds, but then…the wrath of God would come crashing down on her.

Why did that sound so tempting?

Linda followed the group into the nightclub. Rather than the Shadowland’s medieval atmosphere, this place’s decor was grungy harshness. Concrete floor, black brick walls, red-hued paintings. Metal everywhere, from bar stools to aluminum siding behind the bar to twisted metal railings leading to the second floor. “Interesting,” Linda said. “Jessica likes this kind of place?”

“No. We’re here because the club advertised it has BDSM equipment.” Gabi hooked an arm with hers.

“You brought Shadowlands submissives to a different club?”

Gabi grinned. “We couldn’t exactly get falling down drunk in Z’s club, now could we?”

“Good point.” In fact, doing anything wild and crazy under Master Z’s nose would be sheer insanity. “Are we dressed up like Dommes to keep from getting hit on as submissives?”

Beth heard the comment and turned. “Nah. We just wanted to give Jessica one last chance to switch to the dominant side.” Beth unzipped the biker jacket she wore, revealing a black bustier and black vinyl pants. “Besides, Dommes have the coolest clothes.”

Linda grinned. “True.” She wore all black as well. Her skinny black jeans almost disappeared under the impact of high vinyl boots and her skintight, long-sleeved latex shirt. She’d unzipped the front low enough that most guys wouldn’t see past the cleavage.

“I used to wear clothes like this, right up until my first night as a trainee.” Andrea tried to look pitiful—not easy for someone who reminded Linda of Wonder Woman. “Cullen was the trainer, and he said a sub couldn’t wear more clothes than the Dom. The cabrón made me strip right in the center of the club.”

“Ouch.” Linda frowned, recalling the giant bartender with his booming laugh. “And I thought he seemed so easygoing.”

“He is…right until he slides into Demon Dom mode.” Andrea grinned. “Don’t tell him, but I go all melty inside when he does.”

“I know the feeling,” Linda muttered. When Sam got that look in his eyes—the one that said she’d better do exactly what he ordered—her bones turned squishy. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one.”

“Kim’s creating us a spot,” announced Sally. “Come on, Mistresses.” Although not that tall, the brunette wore such a red latex T-shirt that she stood out like Rudolph, the reindeer. They followed her through the crowd at the entrance, past the bar, along the side of the dance floor, and up some stairs.

When Linda looked around, she saw a balcony ran around the perimeter of the second floor. From there, people were watching the dancing and the randomly scattered short St. Andrew’s crosses, spanking benches, and stocks.

“Over here,” Kim called as she industriously shoved chairs, couches, and coffee tables into a disorganized cluster near the railing. “Ladies. Here’s our little bit of heaven for the evening.” She dropped into a chair by the railing.

The rest of the group happily spread out.

“Sit with me.” Jessica pulled Linda down next to her on a long couch, then nodded to her left. “Look at them. Aren’t they a study in contrasts?”

Linda had to laugh. Dara had a pale complexion with blonde, spiky hair and wore black leathers. Next to her was Uzuri, with black skin, braided hair, and a dark red catsuit. Obviously hearing the comment, Uzuri grinned over her shoulder. “We’re going to find us a boy and beat his white ass for a while.”

Sprawled in an armchair, Rainie snickered. “I don’t know about Dara, but Mistress U, I bet you’ve never been on the handle side of a flogger.”

“Maybe not.” Uzuri’s beaded hair clattered as she tossed her head. “But we look so fine he won’t notice anything else.” She knocked her fist against Dara’s.

Giggling, Jessica rose. “Thank you all! This is just great and so much more fun that what I thought it would be.”

“Oh, we’re just getting started, Mistress Jessica,” Gabi said. “Rainie, did you bring your stuff?”

“You bet.” Rainie grinned. A big woman, she’d refused to try to squirm her way into latex or leather pants, but wore a fluorescent blue vinyl dress, fingerless gloves with small spikes on the back, and a coiled whip on her studded belt. A vine tattoo ran from her shoulder to disappear between her breasts. “The chauffeur agreed he’d haul it up here for us. That’s what Sally’s watching for.”

Stuff? Linda wondered.

Jessica’s mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t. Here, in a public place?”

“It was Sally’s idea, so Jessica would have fun toys for her honeymoon,” Rainie said. “Besides, it’s supposed to be a BDSM club, right? Shouldn’t be anything they’ve never seen before.”

“Oh God.” Jessica’s champagne-fueled giggles increased. “Sally, you’re insane.”

Sally glanced back with the “I’m so innocent” look of a dedicated troublemaker, then leaned over the railing and yelled, “Hey, Chauffeur!”

Uzuri added her voice. “Up here, Limo Man!”

A minute later, the lanky chauffeur hauled two heavy-duty suitcases up the stairs.

“He’s earned himself a huge tip,” Kim muttered.

The man set the suitcases on the two coffee tables, gave the gathering a slight bow, and left without saying a word.

“All right, Mistresses, here you go.” Rainie opened the cases with a flourish.

Linda’s mouth dropped open. Foam padding lined one suitcase and had been cut out to hold…dildos. Vibrators. She turned her head. The other case held colorful spray bottles and tubes, a couple of crops, a few cuffs, blindfolds… She stared at Rainie. “You have suitcases of sex toys?”

The trainee laughed so hard her breasts jiggled. “I spend all day surrounded by men. Hosting these parties lets me hang out with women.” She raised her voice. “Check it out, ladies. I set it up, so if you decide you just have to own something tonight, I can do that.”

As Sally, Uzuri, and Dara whooped and converged on the toys, Linda sagged back in her couch. “I need a drink.”

Before the words were out of her mouth, Gabi thumped two pitchers down. “Margaritas, anyone?”

The evening passed in a blur of gossip, intriguing tidbits of life at home with a Dom, playing the Domme game that Gabi and Sally had invented, and checking out Rainie’s stock of toys. By the time the first pitchers were gone, half the places in the suitcases were empty. Clever Rainie had brought along brown paper bags to hold their purchases.

It had only taken two margaritas before Linda caved in. A vibrator for the G-spot. How could she resist? And then she won a prize she never intended to use but no one would trade with her. She’d definitely make sure Sam never saw that one.

Frowning, Kari sank onto the couch next to Linda and dubiously examined her own prize. A cock ring.

“Problems?” Rainie asked.

“Aside from talking Dan into letting me near his guy parts with this?” Kari looked over ruefully. “The main problem is finding the energy. Zane is teething, Dan is putting in overtime because of some creepy rapist, and all too often I’d rather sleep than mess around.”

Remembering the sleep-deprived, zombie world of new motherhood, Linda patted her hand. “Once Zane is older, you’ll catch up on sleep. And if you want a babysitter so you can…play…out of hearing range, well, I love babies.”

Kari hugged Linda. “You’re so nice. Thank you. We’ll take you up on that.” She fingered the cock ring and grinned. “I’m dying to see Dan’s face when I pull this out—let alone when I try to get it on him.”

Dan was the cop, wasn’t he? Gorgeous but awfully stern looking. Poor Kari. Linda smothered a laugh, trying to imagine talking Sam into cooperating.

“Kari, it’s time for the next competition,” Kim called.

“Right.” Kari checked the clipboard on the end table. “Linda and Jessica, your attention, please.” Sweet-faced Kari sounded exactly like the schoolteacher she was.

“Yes, Mistress.” Jessica saluted. “Our assignment?”

Kari handed each of them a paddle. “Go downstairs, find a man, get him to bend over, then give him three good swats.”

Linda stared. “Seriously?”

“The first to swat wins.” From her chair by the railing, Kim raised her glass in a toast. “But the loser still has to paddle a guy, or else you’ll receive the swats from us up here.”

Jessica scowled. “How come Andrea and Dara got off easy? Getting a guy to unzip and show if he’s wearing tighty-whities or boxers isn’t that difficult.”

“Luck of the draw, girlfriend,” Gabi said, no sympathy in her voice. “Go.”

As Linda stood, she could feel the alcohol buzzing in her veins. Champagne, then…margaritas. Note to self: slow down on the consumption. She glanced at Jessica, who was in the same condition. Not…quite…drunk. “We can do this.”

Jessica gave her a shoulder bump. “You bet.”

At the top step, Linda paused.

Jessica stopped behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m summoning my inner Domme.”

“I don’t think I have one of those, inner or outer. I’m an accountant. I don’t boss people around. Well, unless they’re missing paperwork.”

“There you go.” Linda grinned. “Ever had someone dump a shoebox of receipts on your desk just before tax day?”

Jessica’s expression changed completely. “Oh, have I.” Her mouth firmed and her back straightened as they walked down the steps. “How about you?”

“Any mother who’s survived teenagers has developed some Domme.” Linda reached for a memory to put her in the right frame of mind. Maybe Charles’s sixteenth birthday party when she’d discovered a boy had smuggled in a bottle of tequila. Yeah, she’d definitely gone Domme all over that youngster’s head. Maintain that attitude.

They reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Here we go,” Jessica muttered.

“May the best woman win,” Linda said. She headed to the left; Jessica went right.

Men lined the bar, watching the dance floor, checking out the women. Very few were her age, but for her assignment, a younger man would be easier.

Not the one in a suit. Not the skinny lad who looked barely twenty-one. Not the jock. Not…

When an older man’s gaze swept over her, then focused sharply, she got a bit of the squirmy little mouse feeling that Sam’s Dom look could induce. Could the guy tell she was submissive?

And wouldn’t Sam have a fit if he saw her in Domme gear, wielding a paddle?

With a huff of amusement, she turned away to check the nearby tables. Not the obnoxious drunk. Not the geek. Then she saw a candidate standing at a tall table. His gaze lingered on her tight shirt, well enhanced with cleavage. Mistress L for Lethal, that’s me.

He looked midtwenties. A trim mustache. Light brown frohawk. Jeans and an All American Rejects T-shirt.

Wish me luck; I’m going in. She approached his table. “What’s your name, boy?”

His eyes widened. “Jeremy.” He swallowed as she stepped into his space. “You look…wow.”

“Yes, I do.” She gave him an assured head tilt. “I want you to bend over.”

He stared into her eyes as if mesmerized. “What?” She could actually see him shiver.

“Present that pretty ass to me, boy.” Her voice took on a familiar-sounding growl. Don’t think about Sam. “Now.”

To her surprise, he did just that. Seriously? Without letting herself hesitate, she swatted him. One. Two. The third got a grunt from him. Cheers came from the bar, and Linda heard screams and applause from her crew above.

“What a good boy.” Trying not to burst into laughter, she waited for him to straighten, gave him a firm kiss on the lips, then started to walk away.

“No, no. Wait.” He was following her.

What in the world? She stopped.

He held his hand out. “Kneel—am I supposed to kneel? Can I give you my number? Will you call me? Please?”

Oh, dear heavens, someone just found his inner submissive. She patted his cheek. “I’m afraid I’m taken, sweetie. But I’m sure you can find a nice Mistress.”

From the look in his eyes, he’d be doing just that. She knew the feeling. Pretending to be a Top left her craving Sam’s dominance.

On the stairs, she spotted Jessica near the dance floor, trying to convince a man to bend over. When Linda wiggled her hips in a victory dance, the little blonde sent her a sizzling glare.

The women on the balcony greeted her with laughter and high fives. Dara slapped her back, and Rainie handed her a prize of lubricant, saying, “Gabi said you should have this flavor.”

“Orange?” Linda took it. Why orange?

On the couch, Kim hadn’t stopped laughing. She finally hauled in a breath and pointed at Linda. “Your expression when that puppy tried to follow you?”

Shaking her head, Linda sank down next to her. “I felt guilty, leading the poor baby on.” She picked up her drink and took a couple of good swallows, savoring the underlying bite of tequila. “It was amazing he couldn’t tell I was pretending. Bet a Dom would see right through the act.” Sam would have.

“When I met Dan, I told him I wasn’t submissive.” In the adjacent chair, Kari wrinkled her nose. “He laughed at me.”

“It’s nice when a guy sees who you are.” Sally leaned back against the railing. “When I’m dating vanilla guys, I feel like I have to pretend to be someone I’m not. Gets to me.”

“Yeah,” Linda said under her breath. Letting Lee go had been the right decision.

And Sam? Sam definitely saw her for who she was…and liked her that way.

The chauffeur was hauling people home in two batches. The ones who wanted an early night left on the first run. The last few remained, waiting for the chauffer to return for them. Linda, Sally, Jessica, Gabi, and Kim. After getting more margaritas—strawberry, this time—they’d pushed the two couches over to the railing so they could crowd together and watch the dance floor.

Sitting between Gabi and Kim, Linda sipped her tangy, sweet drink. How many had she had now? She felt nicely blurry and very happy. It was wonderful to be with women again. I miss my girlfriends.

“You lost touch?” Gabi asked softly.

Realizing she’d spoken the thought, Linda frowned at the glass in her hand. Definitely over your limit, girl. She set her drink on the railing. “I had two BFFs, but one moved to Oregon, the other to California. You know how it is when you meet someone who just clicks? We clicked.”

Gabi tilted her head toward Kim. “We met in college, and then no matter how long between visits, we could just take up where we’d left off. I feel that way about this crew now.” She patted Linda’s arm. “And that includes you.”

Warmth filled Linda as she realized Gabi meant it. Sally and Jessica on the other couch were both nodding in agreement.

Then Jessica gave an annoyed sniff. “Only I’m going to hold a grudge because you beat me at Domming.”

“After you and Z have children, you’ll be able to intimidate anyone.” Linda grinned. “Trust me.”

“Look at that guy.” Kim pointed. A man with a beer belly, weak chin, and pompous expression strutted across the dance floor. “The creep has been doing that ‘Oh dear, the floor’s so crowded. Did I rub against your tit?’ maneuver. I’m going to rank him at the TNTC level, maybe midway.”

“Rating men is so shallow. You should be ashamed.” Linda tsk-tsked at Kim. Besides, Kim had the ranking wrong—someone who groped women should be at the bottom level.

“Sally and Rainie invented it,” Kim pseudowhined, sounding so much like Brenna in a pout that Linda laughed.

Jessica pointed a finger at Linda. “Hypocat…hypercrat…hypo…hell with it, you faker. I heard you give that cutie a ‘tie me up, baby rating’.”

“A TMUB? Really?” Kim popped upright, spilling her drink as she craned her neck. “Where?”

Gabi snickered. “You are so drunk. Raoul’s going to have a fit.”

“Nah.” Kim held up her sack. “I’ll just show him my new toys.”

“You’re such a sneaky brat.” Gabi opened her sack and peered inside. “I don’t remember what I got…except that I won a gag. Marcus is never going to see that one.”

A second later, they were all checking their bags.

“Aw, poor baby,” Sally said to her bag. “Do you want to come out and play?”

Jessica was giggling. “Mine does.”

As Linda leaned forward to speak to Jessica, she noticed a balding man on the ground floor staring up, eyes bulging.

Linda followed his gaze, and her mouth dropped open.

Jessica was bouncing her oversize cock-like vibrator along the railing toward where Sally was moving her vibrator in circles.

“You two. What are you doing?” Linda sputtered.

“Hey,” Jessica said with a grin. “It’s a rabbit. It wants to hop.”

“Mine’s searching for the G-spot. It knows there’s one around here somewhere.” Sally crossed her eyes. “I’ve been with guys like that.”

“How ’bout the ones who couldn’t find your clit if it bit them?” Gabi asked.

“You are so—” Jessica’s rabbit hopped, missed the railing. She fumbled, secured it before it fell.

Giggling uncontrollably, they all stared down at where it would have landed…on the balding man.

He leered at them and cupped his crotch.

“Ew. I wouldn’t have him. Not even after a bottle of tequila.” Jessica shoved her poor rabbit back into the bag.

“That’s pretty harsh.” The “not even” rating was the lowest of all. Linda considered, then saw the guy licking his lips, rubbing his pelvis vigorously. “Well, maybe not.”

Kim looked down at the floor, and her nose wrinkled. “Not even if he had a cock piercing.”

After putting her vibe into her bag, Sally said, “Not even if he killed a palmetto bug for me.”

“Ouch,” Linda said. “But you’d think there’d be a better class of male in this establishment.” She looked around hopefully. “A few older ones—you know—for my enjoyment? I haven’t spotted an AYW-ID yet, and I wanted one for my record.”

Gabi studied her glass. “I’m so trashed I can’t remember what an AYW-ID is.”

“Anything you want,” Sally started, and Jessica sang along for the last part, “I’ll do. AYW-ID.”

“Oh. Right.” Gabi took the last swallow of her drink. “I knew that.”

Linda gave up checking the dance floor. Maybe, like cream, the better guys rose to the top. She turned her attention to the balcony on the far wall. The waiter over there wasn’t bad. He was serving a skinny young man who didn’t look old enough to be in a bar. Past that table was a group of men seated in a cluster of chairs. They looked older. She tried to focus.

The one on the left looked over. Pale eyes in a darkly tanned face met her gaze…trapped her gaze. Knocked the bottom out of her stomach and her drink out of her hand onto her boot. Sam. “AYW-ID,” she whispered. “AYW-ID.”

“Really? You found a hottie?” Gabi half stood, froze, and fell back onto the couch, moaning. “Marcus is over there. They’re all over there.” She pulled her policeman’s leather jacket closed.

“Seriously?” Jessica scrambled to her feet.

“Oh, God, they’re staring at us.” Kim balanced herself on the couch. “You think we could go out the back?”

Jessica’s hands were over her mouth, trying to stop her laughter. “Girl, you can’t even stand up.”

“Damn chauffeur should have picked us up sooner.” Gabi scowled. Then her eyes widened. “How long do you suppose they were there?”

Linda risked a quick glance. “However long, they’re headed over here now.” Exhilaration bubbled in her blood. Sam is here.

“Here! Noooo, Z mustn’t see these.” Jessica frantically shoved her wealth of toys in her oversize bag.

“The gag! And I didn’t bring a purse.” Gabi staggered over to the couch, dumped her sack of toys, and tried to force them into her jacket pockets. A bright red ball gag hit the floor and bounced under the couch. She dropped to her knees with a painful-sounding thud and tried to retrieve it.

“Can’t even stand? Now that’s downright pitiful.” The deep voice was as slow as the Mississippi and held a faint Southern drawl. The man’s sharp blue eyes were several shades darker than Sam’s.

Gabi’s head jerked up, eyes wide.

Linda tilted her head. Would this be Gabi’s Marcus?

“Have to agree. Better get them home.” Sam tucked his thumbs under his belt, drawing her attention to where his long sleeves had been rolled up, revealing his muscled forearms and powerful hands. She knew how those hands felt on her body. And those fingers sure didn’t have any trouble finding her clit—or G-spot either.

Jessica shoved her blonde hair behind her shoulders. “Hey. You don’t get a say in this. It’s my bacher…balorette…bachette… It’s my party.”

Master Z put his hand on Jessica’s shoulder and then tilted her head up. “Kitten, you make an adorable drunk.”

She beamed at him. “I do?”

“Indeed.” He hooked her purse on her shoulder, scooped her up in his arms, and headed for the stairs. “Let’s see how good you are at drunken sex.”

“Sumisa.” Raoul pulled Kim to her feet and caught her as she tipped sideways.

“I’ve got bribes to get out of trouble.” She held up her bag.

“Planning ahead, are you?” When he lifted her into his arms, she buried her face against his shoulder.

Linda gave a sigh of envy. The Masters were so sweet. Sam was too. She smiled at him before noticing his stern expression. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Oh boy, she was going to catch hell. A thrill ran through her at the thought. What would he do?

Lips quirking, Marcus took Gabi’s newly retrieved ball gag from her hand. After studying it for a second, he tried to tuck it into her jacket pocket and found the pockets full. “You’ve been busy, sugar.”

“I…” She batted her eyelashes at him, slipping the gag from his fingers. “Guess we’d better go, huh?”

“I do believe that would be wise.” With an arm around her waist, he tried to help her down the stairs.

Halfway down, she staggered.

Laughing, Marcus bent over and picked her up. As he straightened, Gabi flung the hated ball gag over the railing. It bounced along the floor and hit an older man’s foot.

Linda exchanged a look with Sally, and they both burst into laughter.

The chauffeur passed Marcus and Gabi on the stairs. He nodded at Sam, then gave Linda and Sally a concerned look. “Where are the others?”

“Their Mas—um, friends took them home,” Sally said. The laughter faded from her face, leaving a vulnerable sadness behind. “Wish I was so lucky.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Linda wrapped her arms around the young woman. “You’ll find your special one. You will.”

Blinking wet eyes, Sally squeezed her back.

Feeling luckier than she could say, Linda held the young woman and looked up at Sam. He was watching them, his expression gentle.

After a minute, Sally pulled in a slow breath. When she lifted her head, her usual vivaciousness was back. “Well, until I find the perfect one, let the good times roll.” She gave the chauffeur a wicked grin. “Let’s go, Jeeves. I’m your only passenger, so I expect awesome service.”

“Yes, miss.” With the hauteur of an English butler, he gave a slight bow and offered his arm when she staggered slightly.

As the two walked toward the stairs, Linda realized with a jolt that she was the last one left. Uh-oh. She turned her head.

Sam was watching her. His gaze ran slowly over her Domme outfit, and then his lips curved in a hard smile. “Did you give some submissive a thrill, Mistress Red?”

After a second, she remembered the young man. She laughed, laughed again, and said triumphantly, “I did.”

Sam’s brows drew together. “What? What did you do?”

“Just paddled his butt.”

Sam growled, the sound as low as any wolf.

Oops. She eyed him worriedly. “Are you upset?”

His face went unreadable as if he’d frozen his emotions.

Worry slid into her veins like cold grease. Why didn’t he answer? “Sam. I didn’t… It was just a game. Really.” Remembering the outcome of the game, she started to grin. “I beat Jessica and won a toy.”

After a long second, his eyes filled with amusement, and he barked a laugh. “You’re sloshed, missy. Time to go home.”

With an easy swing, he pulled her to her feet, then wrapped an arm around her as he guided her toward the stairs. She only tripped twice…well, maybe three times…and dropped her sack once before he huffed a laugh and swung her into his arms.

She gave a happy sigh. Okay, admit it, I was jealous of the others getting carried.

Outside, Sam set her on her feet beside his truck. Linda’s ears rang in the quiet night. A car moved past with a glare of lights and a wash of gas fumes. As she tried to read Sam’s expression, she realized she was seeing two of him. She blinked. Heavens, she couldn’t handle one Sam; two might make her heart stop. She giggled.

“That’s a pretty sound. You don’t laugh enough, girl.” He pulled open the truck door.

She grinned at him. “I’m happy. Cuz I’m with an AYW-ID.”

She felt him kiss the top of her head before he lifted her onto the passenger seat. Once behind the wheel, he asked, “What the hell is an AYW-ID?”

“It’s when you look at a man and think, ‘Anything you want, I’ll do.’”

“Is that right?” He turned on the engine, then nodded at the brown paper bag clutched in her hands. “In that case, tell me what’s in the sack?”

Oh, heavens. “Nothing interesting.”