This is who I am

Chapter Twenty-Four

Later that evening, Sam released the first shift of trainees and put the second shift to work as barmaids. After matching Dara and Sally with Doms who fit their interests, he saw Linda moving toward the bar.

She walked past the two FBI agents who were—apparently—arguing the merits of a female president, and set her tray of empties in front of Cullen.

“Thank you, pet,” the bartender said. As he tugged her hair, she gave that low, open laugh that always lifted Sam’s spirits.

Damn, he’d missed her.

A Dom seated at the bar chatted with her and ran his hand down her bare upper arm. Her back muscles tightened. She didn’t like the guy’s touch.

Sam stalked over. “Trainee. Come with me.”

She glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes widened. “Yes, Sir.” To Sam’s satisfaction, she obeyed instantly, pulling away from the Dom.

Sam closed his hand around her nape, enjoying the shiver she gave at his touch, then guided her to a quieter place in the room. “You got any idea of what you want to do now, girl?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s my job to see that you meet Doms and explore the areas you’re interested in.” Z, with typical thoroughness, had made Linda complete the trainee paperwork, including a limits list. Earlier, Sam had checked the file and noted activities they hadn’t tried.

“But I’m not here to, uh, explore.”

“I know.” He moved forward, past her personal boundary and into intimate space. Another inch and her gorgeous breasts would rub against his chest. Or his rapidly hardening cock would nudge her lower stomach.

Rather than stepping back, she made an infinitesimal movement toward him.

Oh, hell yeah, she still wanted him. “Part of the night is saved for a trainee to gain experience, and it will look odd if you don’t. Got anyone in mind you want to play with?”

“Play with…someone?” She pulled in a breath. “Of course. I-I knew that.” He watched as she recovered. “I can do that. I did the first time I came here, didn’t I?”

So damned brave. He might have called her bluff, but she wasn’t in a good place to be teased. His hand moved of its own accord and cupped her cheek. “Linda, it’s your choice. Would you rather play with me?”

The answer showed so clearly in her beautiful brown eyes that he didn’t need her to speak. Although the hesitation before she said, “Yes. If you wouldn’t mind,” felt like an insult.

For the insult, he answered, “No problem. Part of the job.”

At the flicker of hurt in her face, he cursed himself and curved his hands on each side of her neck, letting his thumbs stroke her jawline. “More than that, girl.” He pushed past the bottleneck on his words and continued. “I’d like to play with you. I always have.” Always will.

Tears gleamed in her eyes before she blinked them back. “Okay. Okay then. Now what?”

Tough little woman. Too damn tough and brave for her own good. “Are you up for a full scene? Pain, bondage, sex?”

She bit her lip, and he could read her too easily. Her head said no, but the rest of her wanted him. The relief that she hadn’t given up on them shook him.

When she nodded, he couldn’t keep from moving closer. From kissing her. He’d missed the pleasure of taking her mouth. “It’s a good night for role-playing.”

She looked intrigued. “Like what?”

Like a scene he’d planned a while back. Her speech in the entry about being programmed had shoved it to the top of the list. “A reversal of the businessman-secretary role-play. A game within a game.”

Her brows drew together.

“I give you tasks and ask questions. You must answer honestly. But I also want you to act out. Be a brat. Be rude. Do the tasks badly. When you do, you’ll get rewarded by being punished in a way we’ll both like. However, if you’re quiet and well-behaved, I’ll make you do things you won’t find appealing.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What’s the point of that?”

“I’ll explain later. Maybe.” Would she figure it out? He rubbed her cheek with his knuckles, enjoying the softness. “Upstairs in the Purple Room, Z keeps fetish and costume wear. Put on secretarial clothing. No underwear. Hair up off your neck. Glasses. Bring me a suit coat when you come down. Extra-large. I’ll see you in the office-theme room in ten minutes.”

She simply stood, staring at him.

He put a low snap in his voice. “Move, girl.”

Wow, she really felt like a secretary. As she crossed the club and walked down the theme-room hallway, a few members grinned, recognizing the stereotypical look. Her black skirt hugged her butt more closely than she liked, but the white silk blouse she might have bought for herself. Without a bra, her nipples made dark points under the thin material. But the black reading glasses—without lenses—were great.

The hall contained people observing scenes through the large windows. The medical room was across from the office room, and she glanced in, then winced. A Domme was inserting needles in a straight line down one side of her submissive’s muscular back. The man flinched with each puncture, but from his expression, he was in a happy place.

Linda felt envious. Not of the piercing—heavens, no. But the subspace. She felt as if centuries had passed since she’d played with Sam.

As she opened the door, she saw him and felt that inexplicable bounce of her heart. He waited beside a fancy oak desk in a room fashioned to look like an office. A tall filing cabinet stood against one wall. A chair sat in front of the desk. A couch and coffee table were near the far wall.

After donning the suit coat she’d fetched, he gave her an approving smile. “Miss Madison, I’m Sam Davies, the CEO of Pain International.” He held his hand out.

“Ah.” Right. Get with the program. She shook his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Take a seat. We’ll get right to the interview.”

Interview? She blinked, then shrugged and took the hardwood chair in front of the massive oak desk. At least she wouldn’t have to pretend to take notes in shorthand.

After seating himself behind the desk, Sam opened a red folder and actually donned his reading glasses to peruse the contents. He was so, so sexy with glasses.

He nodded to himself as he read. When he frowned at another paper, her hands turned clammy as if she were really applying for a job. Finally he looked up and pinned her with a keen gaze over the top of his glasses. “A widow. Children in college. How much trouble do they give you?”

Huh. He really meant to keep this interviewlike. “Not much. They’re quite good children, aside from being at that rebellious age.”

His gaze chilled. “How nice to meet an honest and polite applicant.” The compliment was at definite odds with his annoyed look. Why? He knocked the pencil holder off the desk. “Oops. Pick those up while I read the rest of this report.”

Pushing her glasses up, she obediently knelt on the gleaming hardwood floor, righted the holder, and put the first pencil in.

He sighed. “So goddamned well behaved. Use your teeth then.”

She stared at him and caught his direct look. Realized why. He’d told her to be rude. Honest, but rude. If she were “quiet or well-behaved,” he’d choose things she didn’t like. Well, he was sure on target with picking up pencils with her teeth. Ew.

Must be rude. “You’re pretty clumsy, Davies. You should pick them up yourself.” She felt…odd…saying that. “Don’t be impertinent, honey. It’s important that you’re always polite.” Her mama’s voice distorted and slid into the Overseer’s. “Sluts don’t speak.”

“Miss Madison, are you applying for a job or taking a nap down there?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m so sorry.” As she reached for a pencil, his frown stopped her. Rude. Be rude. Not knowing what to say, she picked up a pencil and threw it onto the desk. Everything inside her cringed at the action. “There’s one.”

She caught the glint of approval and threw two more. “Almost done, Mr. Dumb Davies.”

His lips quirked. “Enough of that. Come here.”

She rose, took a step forward, and realized she was doing it again. Blind passive obedience. “No.” She dropped into her chair. “Get on with the interview before I get bored.”

His eyebrows went up. “Bored?” He flipped a page. “Small-town girl. Your father was pastor of a church? Pretty straitlaced, I bet.”

“That’s right.” Why is it so hard to be rude? “What’s it to you?” She sprawled out, her legs extended.

“You’re just racking up punishments, Miss Madison. Behave yourself.”

Before she could stop, she sat upright, knees together, hands in lap. “My daughter is a good girl. Did you see how well she sat and listened to the sermon?”

“Nicely obedient.” Sam sounded disgusted. “Bend over and let me see your ass.”

Her face flushed. “That isn’t fair. I…” Obeyed you. I was good. He didn’t want her to be good. To be polite. Her brain felt as if it were playing a song with dissonant chords.

“Now. Not next week.”

She rose and turned and—dummy. She spun back around. “What kind of a CEO are you? That’s just disgusting.”

He snorted. “Gabi should give you some pointers on how to be insulting.” He rose and walked around the desk. “Come here.”

The look in his eyes had her backing toward the door. “Uh-uh.”

Taking a step forward, he caught her shirt by the front and yanked her to the desk, then bent her facedown over it. Still holding her shirt, keeping her bent over, Sam lifted her skirt and ran his hand over her bottom. “I like the way you just give in. An excellent robot.”

Robot? “Let me go, you bastard!” She was learning. She started to struggle.

“Nope.” His hand slapped her bottom with a brief sting; then he gave her three more that transformed into lovely sharp pleasure. “Those were for the sassy talk, and so is this.” When he ran his finger between her folds, she squirmed uncontrollably as need sizzled through her. He made a hum of approval at her wetness. His big finger circled her clit in a burst of sensation as he teased her.

She was just letting him. She tried to push herself up, but he held her mercilessly in place. And his touch grew more insistent. Her clit swelled as he pressed harder.

When he finally let her up, she was flushed and panting and so, so turned on. With a final hard slap of her bare bottom, he nudged her toward her chair. “I have some more questions, Miss Madison.”

She sat in the chair, knees together, back straight. At his raised eyebrows, she flushed. She really was an idiot. “So far your questions haven’t shown any intelligence on your part.”

He nodded as if in appreciation of the crappy insult. “Church daughter. Raised to be a good girl. Bet you never question if you should obey the person giving orders. You just do what they say, don’t you, little girl?”

“I—” She did. “You arrogant bastard, what would you know about being respectable?”

“Bet your husband was real respectable. Conservative. Wanted you to be the same. Answer me, Miss Madison.”

“He—” Her mouth snapped shut, and she glared. “You can take this job and feed it to your ugly pigs.” She rose.

His grin came and went so fast she almost didn’t see it. “No, the interview isn’t over. Do you even know what you’re interviewing for?”

“I… No.”

He walked around the desk and grabbed her by the nape of her neck. “Neither do I. Let’s see if you have any skills I’d enjoy.”

After pushing her into the knee space under the desk, he took his seat, lowered the chair, then moved it forward until his legs bracketed her. With sure hands, he opened his leathers. His cock rose, and she gaped at him. “You want me to suck your—”

“Yep.” He slid her glasses off and tossed them on the desk. “A nice blowjob…and quietly, please.”

Be rude. Obey, but be rude. He wanted rude, then fine. “Are you sure I can find it? I might get it confused with one of those pencils on the floor.”

He choked, even as he pushed a button on the front of the desk.

Obey. Resting a forearm on his knee to steady herself, she licked around the top of his cock before taking it into her mouth. At the taste and feel of his hard erection, desire set up a steady pulse between her legs. The velvety skin was stretched tight, the veins bulging. Mmmm. Want more. She lifted her head. “See, tiny dick. Maybe—”

He shoved her head down, forcing her to take it all, effectively muffling her. And he wasn’t little at all. She almost gagged as he went deep, but when his hand fisted in her hair and pulled her head up and down, the feeling of being controlled made her insides go smooshie.

“Suck harder.”

She did, then defiantly scraped him—gently—with her teeth. Under her forearms, his thigh muscles tightened. Heavens, she’d missed being with him. She inhaled his musky, wonderful scent.

He pulled her hair just enough to give her goose bumps.

Relaxing her jaw, she took him deeper, enjoying the rumble of satisfaction he gave. She could climax just listening to him.

The door creaked open, letting in the noise of people in the hallway. A man said, “You rang, boss?”

Linda froze and tried to pull back farther under the desk. Sam’s hand in her hair kept her head bobbing, the wet sounds far, far too loud.

“Yes, would you tell the next candidate that I’m detained,” Sam said. “I won’t get to her for another hour.”

“Of course, sir.” The man’s voice came closer. “Is there anything I can assist with, while I’m here?”

No. No!

Sam glanced at her and raised his eyebrows.

Linda knew she was effectively hidden by the desk, but the sounds of a blowjob… The man knew exactly what was going on. She shook her head frantically, despite the cock in her mouth.

Sam winced, then grinned. “No, thanks, Holt. I don’t think I’ll have to deal with an overly polite secretary after all.”

“Very good. Let me know if you change your mind. I enjoy…interviews.” The door closed.

My God, he’d have let that man touch me? She wrenched her head up. “You jerk. How could you have done that?”

He gave her an even look. “A threesome wasn’t listed as a hard limit for you. I wanted to see if it was something you’d enjoy.” He put himself away, zipped up his pants, and pulled her onto his lap.

She couldn’t help but snuggle close. How could the damned sadist make her feel so safe when he held her?

“Looked like you didn’t want company, though. Why did you check it as ‘possible’?”

“I… At the time, it seemed like an okay possibility.” At the time, she’d actually been thinking of ways to make Sam jealous. She sure hadn’t thought he would call her on it.

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

Letting him think too long might not be a good idea. “So, big boss, what do we do now?” She deliberately squirmed on his very hard cock. Actually, being a bad girl seemed a fine idea. Turning into him, she buried her face in the curve of his neck, inhaling the soap and hay scent before nipping his skin. She undid a button on his shirt and slid her hand in to outline his hard pectoral muscles. His crisp chest hair teased her fingers as she sought out a nipple…and pinched it.

He growled at her, pulled her hand away. “Get back in your chair.”

“Ah, come on, Mr. Davies. I’m sure I can be a great secretary.” After bouncing on his cock, she pushed off his lap, opened her blouse, and shimmied her bare breasts at him.

As his blue eyes turned to a molten steel color, his whole body seemed to expand.

Uh-oh, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, she thought, even as her skin seemed to burst into flame.

He rose, grabbed her upper arms, and yanked her against him, then took her lips in a kiss so demanding, so wet and hot that her knees buckled. Slinging an arm around her, he kept kissing her, even as his other hand cupped her bare breast. When he rolled the nipple and pinched the tip—hard—a stream of need flowed to her clit. “I can see you want to be punished, girl.”

“I… Ah…”

“After that, I’m going to fuck you.” She could hear the control in his voice. “Hurt you and fuck you so hard that everyone in the club hears you scream my name.”

Oh. God.

After folding his glasses and putting them in his pocket, he lifted her onto the desk. “Kneel up in position.”

At the growl in his voice, she felt as if she’d stepped sideways into somewhere softer. Brighter.

Feeling wanted was wonderful. Being understood and still wanted was even better. On top of the desk, she set her butt on her feet. Her hands rested on her thighs.

“Good. Arch your back.”

When she complied, his cheek creased with his half smile before he ran his hand over her breasts. His calluses were rough and wonderful on her sensitized skin. “Love these tits, girl.”

So blunt. Yet the wash of happiness couldn’t be denied.

He tugged at her nipples until her breasts seemed to sizzle. “Stay just like that,” he warned before bending down to his toy bag beside the desk. After setting a pair of bandage scissors on the desk, he took a length of rope and circled the base of her left breast several times, slightly tighter than was comfortable. Then he did the right.

Now instead of feeling swollen, her breasts felt as if they’d burst.

His gaze on her face, he fondled each breast and pinched the engorged nipples. Such intense heat lanced through her that she whined and wiggled.

When he lifted breast clamps from his bag, she made a protest that didn’t even sound like her. He knew she was sensitive there. Knew she hated those things.

He barked a laugh, and delight gleamed in his hard gaze. “Yes, this will really hurt,” he said, openly enjoying how she tried to cringe away. The first one went on, an alligator clamp with a screw. He adjusted the pressure.

“Too tight,” she gasped.

“Breathe, Linda. Breathe through it. Take it for me…and for you.” Curving his unyielding hand under her breast, he watched her face.

She pulled in a breath, trying to ride the pain. Not a good pain. But his words. “For me.” She’d do it to please him, to see the approval in his eyes.

“Ready for the next one?”

Tears had pooled in her eyes, and she shook her head no. The shocking bite had lessened, blossoming into a wonderful fiery pleasure, but still…

“Too bad.” And he did the other one.

She gasped as the prongs closed on her sensitive nipple, hurting, hurting, and the fact that he’d force her to take the unwelcome hurt shook everything inside her, because she wanted him to push her. To ignore her protests, to make her submit to his will. As he watched her with those mesmerizing blue eyes, she felt as if layers of her skin were being stripped away—a fruit being peeled until only the soft core remained.

He attached a chain between the two clamps, letting the cool metal drop against her skin. “Open your knees.”

His gaze never left her face as he ran his hand between her legs, sliding through her wetness. He plunged two fingers inside her. Her pussy contracted around him, pulsing and pulling, sending zaps to every nerve, somehow bouncing off the raw soreness in her breasts and expanding.

He moved closer, sharing the warmth of his body. With fingers still inside her, he used his free hand to grip her hair, tugging her head back so he could take her lips. So he could rub his chest on her clamped nipples, increasing the glorious pain until she whimpered. He took her further, his control over her merciless as he penetrated her mouth and pussy so intimately her head spun.

Thrusting his fingers deeper, he circled his thumb around her clit, pushing her up the slope toward a climax.

As her thigh muscles started to tremble and her insides to contract, he withdrew and stepped back, smiling into her needy eyes. “Pretty Linda.” He paused for a second. Then his voice grated lower. “You make me happy, girl. Happy to fuck you.” He cupped her cheek and gritted out, as if he drew the words from a bottomless well, “Happy to be with you.”

Her heart melted into slush, pooling in her chest. “Sam,” she whispered.

“No talking, missy. Moaning is allowed…if you’re able.”

Able?

He firmly positioned her on her knees and forearms, head down. He yanked her butt up into the air. “Stay there.” When he picked up the chain dangling between her breasts, she squeaked at the sharp bite from the nipple clamps. He put the chain in her mouth. “Don’t let go.”

Hastily, she bent her head so the pull on the clamps stopped, then looked up at him through her lashes. Expression unyielding, he held her eyes, and her whole body sparkled to life.

His lips twitched. “Eager, are you?” He ran his hands down her back to massage her bottom. Warm and caring and wonderful. The hum in her head, in her veins, deepened as if she were falling down a steep slope.

He slapped her bottom lightly at intervals, and she wanted more. Wanted him inside her. Her core felt hollow.

Then he took a flogger from his toy bag. The scent of leather was heady as he ran the strands over her, like tiny fingers trailing on her back and bottom. The falls struck, pattering against her skin. She kept her head down, savoring the massage-like thumps and glorying in it as he hit harder and pain blossomed on her skin. Only it wasn’t pain but a driving pleasure. Then down to her thighs and bottom. She moaned as more layers of herself seemed to peel away.

“Good girl,” he grated in his harsh voice. “You can take this. Want this. Moan for me now.” The flogging grew harder. Each blow surged through her in a sensual inferno, sizzling straight to her pussy and clit, making her insides clench. His laugh affected her the very same way.

He tossed the flogger back onto his bag and removed something else. Gripping her thigh, he pushed a finger inside her. Her vagina clenched around the penetration. Needing. Needing. She moaned.

“Want something in there, girl?” His chuckle was low. Ominous. “At least until I can get there myself?”

She did. Oh, she did. How slutty she was. But it felt so good to simply need with nothing else involved.

Something slid into her vagina, fairly wide, then smaller so it would stay in. Vibrations hit, and her back arched. As her head lifted, the chain in her mouth jerked on her nipples, and the sharp bite of the clamps almost made her come. “Ooohhhh.”

His rough hands ran over her shoulders and ass before he nipped the back of her neck. His low voice rumbled in her ear. “Sounds like you’re in a good place, girl, and ready for more.”

She couldn’t talk, not with the chain. Her careful nod satisfied him.

He reached under her, fondling her breasts, reminding her how they were bound, making them throb with the pressure inside.

Two canes came out of his bag. He laid a small, thin one beside her forearm in a visible threat and kept the other. It was leather covered and thick. He tapped it over the backs of her thighs, up her bottom, letting her get acquainted with the feel. Whack, whack, whack.

Pushing her, edging her upward, the blows grew harder with a heavy thumping. Her favorite kind of hurting. Then he targeted the same spots he’d hit before. Like the orchestra joining in on a solo, the new sensation drowned everything else out and united the individual pieces into waves of gorgeous pain.

Another harder strike and her head came up, wrenching her nipples. The exquisite blast made her scream around the chain and drop her head back down to ease the pressure. Her arms were shaking. Another blow. Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. Five smacks before he’d pause to let the sharpness of the pleasure swell and ease. Five more. Pause. Over and over.

Through it all, the vibrator never ceased.

The battle to keep her head down, to take more, split her mind, floating her away until it seemed as if her hands were buried in fog. Nothing stood between her and the world. Her shell had cracked open, leaving her exposed. But not chilled. Warm. She was so warm as Sam ran his hands over her. Said something.

“Linda, are you with me?” His voice penetrated, pulled at her, anchored her from drifting completely away.

“Mmm-hmm.”

He snorted and pulled the chain from her mouth. “Say my name.”

Name? Fuzzy. “S-Sam.”

“Good. Take this again.” The chain went back in her mouth, and she tongued the cool metal. He caressed her head, rubbed his cheek on hers, leaving his scent behind to flow into her happy place. “You can take more.”

Each blow felt as if it should hurt, and tears were in her eyes, yet her whole body throbbed with arousal and need. Each strike of the cane reverberated through her straight to her clit. Her moans increased as she rocked back toward the cane, pleading for more. For more.

But the heavy blows stopped, and he picked up the cane beside her arm. The little one.

His hands pulled her knees apart, opening her, and she clenched as the vibrator jostled inside her.

Then light taps ran up the inside of her thighs, the cane flicking back and forth like a pinball, up and down with tiny, hot stings, just enough sensation to keep her floating. But he never struck her throbbing pussy. Up and up her tender thighs, then down, then up. Never quite…there. She moaned her need.

Her breath caught as he flicked the cane to hit the crease between her thigh and pussy. So close. He struck her labia, even the end of the vibrator, and the impacts surged through to her clit again and again. Never quite there. She gave a high, frustrated whine.

His gruff laugh was sandpaper down her spine, beautiful, wonderful sandpaper. “Needy girl. Let’s finish this interview then.” The next strikes changed the angle, between her legs, so the tip danced over her upper pussy lips on each side of her engorged clit. Every little blow sent her higher, higher. Then he reached between her legs, closed his fingers on her clit, and tugged.

She came, screaming around the chain as everything inside her blew apart, shaking her, shaking the table. Her back arched, her head lifted, the chain pulled. She yelled again as her nipples blasted shocking, wonderful pain straight to her core.

“Hell of a scream, baby.” He pulled the chain from between her lips, then removed the vibrator, making her spasm again. After setting her on her feet, he bent her over the desk. As her legs wobbled, she grabbed the desk edges.

Over the roar in her ears, she heard the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open. A condom? Oh right, the Shadowlands had rules.

“Hang on, missy. I’m gonna take you hard.”

She felt the tip of his cock enter. Then he thrust in so fast and deep she went up on tiptoes, her breath whooshing out of her. Her pussy convulsed around him, and he felt so, so good, thick and hard inside. Hot and wet. But he was thrusting too slowly, and she wiggled her hips.

“Stay still.” In reprimand, he pulled on the chain and laughed when she moaned.

He reached around her with both hands, loosening the ropes around her breasts. The ropes fell off, and her breasts were freed. As blood surged into her breasts, her pinched nipples felt as if they were on fire. Her swollen breasts throbbed with each beat of her heart.

Then his cock pounded into her, driving her up and up. Securing her around the waist with an arm, he loosened one nipple clamp and pulled it off. Then the other. “Say my name.”

Blood poured back in, setting the abused tissues into engulfing brilliant fire. “Saaaaam.” Her scream echoed in the room

He laughed and massaged her breasts, making the sensation overwhelming.

Her brain fogged. Her body wasn’t hers, was Sam’s—all Sam’s—responding to his merciless hands and cock. His cock dragged across a spot that made her moan. He angled himself to hit that place, over and over.

As she came again in heavy, clenching waves of pleasure, her head sagged. He filled her completely, mind and body, and when he pressed deep into her, taking his satisfaction, he owned her emotions as well.

MINE. ARMS AROUND his woman, Sam rested his forehead on her back, his cock pulsing inside her. With every small tremor of her body, her hot, slick sheath clenched around him, keeping him there, just past coming, so it felt as if maybe—maybe—he could come one more time.

He figured he’d end up in a grave, but it might be worth it.

Instead, he kissed between her shoulder blades and grinned when her pussy convulsed again.

As he pulled out of her, they both sighed at the loss. Damn, but he cared for this woman.

He did.

He carefully settled her in the corner, disposed of his condom, then grabbed a blanket from a drawer in the filing cabinet. As he wrapped the fuzzy material around her, he touched her cheek gently, pleased to see her contented expression. Still in subspace. Worry-free. Happy. Far, far better than the way the last scene here had ended.

Some of her euphoria seemed to settle inside him. Putting that look on a masochist’s face was definitely the icing on the cake for a sadist.

He kissed her lightly and then cleaned up the room.

After slinging his bag over his shoulder, he opened the door and picked her up. She blinked at him.

“You with me, girl?” he asked, studying her face. The flush of climax had faded, but her color wasn’t bad.

“Yes,” she whispered. A crease appeared between her dark red brows in an unhappy look. “I came… People watched…?”

Her words were slurred, but, remembering his screwup at the auction, he understood. “Not in public, baby.” As he headed for the door, he turned to show her the closed window blinds. He’d pulled them when getting the canes out of his bag. She hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh.” Her cheek rubbed against him, and somehow without moving, she sank closer in his arms. A snuggler. He had regulars who didn’t like aftercare other than water and carbs. Some wanted company but didn’t like being touched afterward. Some liked being held.

Linda drowned in being cuddled, always trying to inch closer. He made sure his bottoms had what they needed after a scene. But Linda was different; he damn well loved aftercare with her.

In the main room, he found a secluded chair and settled in. With his free hand, he grabbed the sports drink from his bag and popped the top up. “Drink, baby.”

Her eyes were still glazed, but the good little submissive tried to obey. Her lips closed over the bottle cap, making him remember how her mouth felt around his cock. When she sucked in some liquid, just the sound made him start to harden again. He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head, keeping his grip on the bottle. “More, baby.”

“Mmm.”

When she’d taken enough to please him, he fed her pieces of a chocolate bar. Alertness started to return to her face.

A small sound made him look up. Rainie stood at the unwritten boundary, checking to see if he needed anything. Good trainee. Despite her brassy personality, she was as finely attuned to nuances as anyone he’d met.

Sam ran his knuckles over Linda’s cheek. A bit cooler than he liked. He said to Rainie, “Can you bring a hot chocolate—not too hot—and a beer.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

He let Linda drop off again, tipped his head back, and simply enjoyed her soft body. He’d rather have a soft, satisfied woman in his lap than a purring cat any day.

Rainie appeared, set the drinks on the end table, and moved it to the exact spot where he could reach them easily.

He nodded at her. “Good job, girl. You do the trainees proud.”

Before she moved away, the flush of delight in her face made him smile. He’d been unconvinced of her suitability when Z had proposed her for the trainee spot, but as always, Z recognized a good submissive sooner than anyone.

Sam jiggled Linda, waited until her attention fixed on him, then held the hot chocolate to her lips.

One sip. Two. He chuckled at her blissful sigh. “Warm.”

“That’s right, baby.” He studied her face. The tiny muscles around her eyes and mouth had relaxed. The tenseness of her neck and shoulders was gone. Floggers and fucking—a surefire cure for what ails you.

Still partly in Domspace, he got off on the fact that he’d done that for her.

Her brows drew together, and he had a moment of worry before her big brown eyes lifted. “That so-called interview… You were trying to tell me something.”

“I was.” After living with a woman who was downright stupid, he valued one who was not. He stroked a finger across the curve of her cheek. Damn, he liked touching her. “Wanted you to catch on to what you’re doing.”

“But you’re a Dom. You’re supposed to like obedience.” She handed him her chocolate, and he set it on the table.

“I do. But surrender should come from the heart, not from habit, especially at first.” Hell, how could he explain this? “You went straight from your preacher family to a conservative marriage. Skipped the rebellion when most kids question—and dump—what their parents taught.”

She nodded. “True.”

“Then you had the Overseer’s slave training beat into you. Lot of programming there, baby.”

“Yes.” Her mouth tightened.

“Here’s your homework. Think about what you’re doing. Are you offering your submission or just being a good girl? Who do you submit to and why? Who controls your behavior, you or your past?”

He closed his eyes as his own words hit home with even more impact than Z’s directive. His past controlled him. Had programmed him.

To hell with that. No more.

“Homework, huh?” A tiny dimple appeared in her cheek. “Thank you for the lesson, Master Sam. And the reward.”

He combed his fingers through her hair. Damp at the temples. Silky smooth. “Linda.” The words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t even say the damn phrase in his head.

His teeth ground together. He damn well would. This battle he’d win. For her. For them. “I…” He sucked in air.

“I. Love. You.” Each word was hard-won. But audible. He’d said it.

Her eyes widened, then filled with tears. Her hand opened and pressed to his cheek. “I love you, Sam.”

He felt as if he’d been dragged behind the plow. For years. Her palm was still on his face; he put his hand over hers. “I’m sorry. About last week.”

“I think I understand.” She asked gently, “Nicole. Did she…? Why didn’t you…?”

Get a divorce sooner. He filled in the rest of the sentence. Little mama with her big heart, worrying about his daughter. “I’d told Nancy I was a sadist. We never played, but she knew. Because of that, I wouldn’t have been able to get sole custody.” He felt the frustration flood his system. “I couldn’t leave Nicole with her—not even part-time—so we…hung on until my lawyer had enough to sway the judge and Nicole was old enough they’d listen to her wishes.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” She had the softest velvety-brown eyes he’d ever seen.

“She’s still around. Takes me a while to get past the memories when I see her. Give me time if it happens again.”

Her head cocked, and her eyebrows rose. “I will. As long as you realize that I’ll bitch slap you if you give me that ‘you’re better off without me’ bullshit.”

His laugh eased a knot in his chest he hadn’t realized was there.

A flicker of movement caught his attention. Uzuri stood in almost the same place as Rainie had.

“Uzuri,” Sam acknowledged with a sigh. He’d actually forgotten he was in charge of the trainees.

“Sally wants permission to play with Jake, and I’d like help negotiating with a new Dom.”

He shifted Linda in his arms and pulled his mind back to reality. They were good girls to remember to check in with him first. But… He studied Uzuri long enough to make her shift her weight nervously.

She needed to learn to negotiate on her own—to ask for what she wanted. “I’ll meet you both at the bar in a couple of minutes. Then you’ll practice telling me what you want out of a scene before you discuss it with the Dom.”

“B-but—”

After giving her a warning look that sent her hastening back to the bar, he grinned. The girl was shy, timid with strangers—especially strange Doms—but once she knew someone, all bets were off.

He’d smacked her ass a couple of times for saucy talk. The next night, in the Master’s area, he’d opened his toy bag and found it had been emptied and filled with real toys. A miniature whip. Plastic handcuffs. A six-inch flogger made of fluffy yarn. A teddy bear in rope bondage. Its ball gag made of string and a grape had set off the entire roomful of Doms. Probably heard their laughter in Tampa.

After Nolan tied her to a bar stool as punishment for something, she’d filled all the Dos Equis bottles with cranberry juice and somehow put the tops back on. Nolan had spit the sweet stuff all over the well-polished bar, and Cullen had cursed up a blue streak.

Cullen’s misstep with the little trainee had resulted in a naked Barbie doll tied to one of his “bar ornament” rings.

Yep, the Dom who won the little brat’s surrender would be in for a surprise.

Seemed that life was full of surprises. Sam looked down at the submissive in his lap, feeling as if he’d been in a battle and returned home, safe and sound. “How are you doing, girl?”

“I’m good.” She slid off his lap and onto her feet. Her legs were steady, but he regretted the loss of her sweet body already. “I need to get to work. Listening.” Her face scrunched up. “I’m so, so glad I didn’t hear anything while…”

During their scene? Did she think he’d chosen a closed theme room and shut the windows by accident? Damn, he hated having her at risk. “Be careful. As trainer, I say no more scenes for you tonight. Spend the rest of it waiting on tables. If someone wants you, you tell them just that.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And did I mention that you’re coming home with me tonight?”