Page 29 of Lesson In Honesty
Mack couldn’t see a collar around her slender neck, but then the fall of red locks around her shoulders concealed quite a bit. Gorgeous red locks, he mused, in generous amounts. Just right to take thick handfuls to hold, to tug, to use however he wished.
Who the hell did she belong to?
He searched faces looking for the lucky individual who held her metaphorical leash. No one in the crowd wore a possessive expression, and the sub stayed with her head bowed, not connecting with anyone.
Ten feet away, the two Doms were still talking, but—oh, there it was. Nothing overt, just a quick glance from the blond in the redhead’s direction. Damn it, that was the kind of look a Dom gave his sub when they’d been together for some time. Afleeting skim of eyes over her, as though he knew she wouldn’t break position or defy an order because their trust was so well established.
Fuck, that put a damper on Mack’s evening, for sure.
Grunting to himself, still unable to part his gaze off the sub, he lifted his hand and summoned the bartender. When a young man, probably in his late twenties, approached with a slightly nervous expression, Mack figured the guy was either really new to tending bar or unnerved by a BDSM gathering.
“What can I get you, sir?” The brass nametag readJonah.
“The house beer will do fine.”
“Yes, sir. Do you have your card?”
Card? Oh shit, the membership card. Rummaging in his back pocket, Mack pulled out his wallet, flipping it open and selecting the embossed black card. When he handed it over, Jonah took it, scanned it, and offered it back.
“Thank you, Mr. Morehead. Club rules state members intending to play are restricted to two drinks per evening.” Jonah reached under the bar, grabbing a glass and filling it from one of the shiny brass pulls adorning the bar. “Are you enjoying your stay so far?”
“Everything’s been perfect.” How much did the bartender know about the patrons, Mack wondered, sliding his gaze over to the big blond. “Who’s the bearded guy over there? The tall blond?”
Jonah’s pale green eyes flicked over to where Mack stared. “Oh, that’s Master Liam. He’s the daytime and early evening bartender.”
Bartender? Christ, the guy was wasted in a career slinging drinks, Mack thought. That face paired with that body? He’d make a fucking fortune if he turned his hand to modelling. Fashion wasn’t Mack’s gig but he’d dabbled in it enough toknow Paris would snatch the Master up and make him an international darling in a heartbeat.
Jonah scurried off when he was signaled from down the bar, leaving Mack with his thoughts and observations.
The conversation between Liam and the other Dom was winding down to a close. Giving Liam a nod, the dark-haired guy strolled away with purpose in his stride.
Mack sipped his beer, studying Liam’s interaction with the redhead as he returned to her. God, he was jealous as Liam slid his hand over her slim shoulder, his fingers tapping out a one-two-three beat just above her breast.
He didn’t miss the way she stiffened, then relaxed and leaned back against her Dom’s legs, keeping her head lowered respectfully. Definitely a long-term relationship; even though Mack hadn’t been in the game for a while, it was easy to read their history through their body language.
In just a few minutes, the dark-haired Dom returned with a bag slung over his shoulder. He dropped it on a low platform in the corner, then moved over to flick a switch on the wall. Spotlights illuminated the small stage with warm light.
Liam bent and kissed the crown of his sub’s head, whispering something.
She nodded but remained still.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen.” Liam prowled over to the stage, standing boldly in the lights as though he belonged there. Holding his hands out to the side, he smiled. “Apologies for the interruption to your evening. My name is Master Liam, and I’ve been introduced to many of you over the last week.”
A hail of cheers and greetings erupted from the audience.
“Of course, you know Master Fordham as well.” Liam flicked his wrist toward the other Dom, eliciting some whistles from some of the more audacious members. “I think some of you were wondering why I haven’t been open to playing. The truth is, I’mlucky enough to have my own submissive. A very shy, insecure, and beautiful sub who has issues with her self-confidence and self-worth.”
A low hum of sympathy echoed after his words.
The redhead seemed to shrink into herself.
Mack listened to the Master talk, but kept his eyes on the sub. This just got more and more intriguing by the second. He drank his beer slowly, savoring the taste as he wondered where this scene was going.
“This week, she’s been a naughty girl. All the progress we’ve made over the past couple years has started to fall apart, so I’d like to build her up again. Sierra, come here, please.” Liam’s tone brooked no argument.
The slightest hesitation. So slight it couldn’t be taken as a refusal. Slowly, reluctantly, the submissive rose to her feet and shuffled her way over to her Dom, never lifting her head. She moved to stand in front of Liam, her back to the room, and no one could miss the tremors rippling through her muscles.
Liam cupped her face, spoke quietly, then kissed her. “Turn around, minx.”