Bailey: Independence #1 (2 page)

There was a large sign, clear and stark against the wall next to a wide arched opening covered with thick, velvet drapes.

“Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves theme night. No exceptions.”

Bailey nodded slightly, glancing down at the opened cloak and her costume.

“Very pretty. May I see your invitation, please?” Georgi loved her job, so smiling at the guests just come naturally to her.

Bailey blinked and hastily lifted her palm, opening her fingers and extending the coin in the center.

She admitted she had no clue what was happening this evening. But she was a trainer. She read people. And the pure shock on the younger woman’s face brought just a tiny twinge of a hot spike to her middle. The younger woman looked at her, literally, up and down with a very interesting smile on her face.

“Welcome to
Independence
,” she said politely and ran her finger over the surface of the coin, her free hand jotting down the number before she closed Bailey’s fingers around the gold piece.

“Thank you. It looks amazing.”

“Have a wonderful evening. If you need anything, just let one of the staff know,” she smiled and gestured to the curtains. She waited until the woman was out of hearing range before she alerted security of the VIP visitor.

“Thank you,” Bailey withdrew her hand and slipped it into the pocket on the cloak. She opened the lower fasteners, letting the costume she wore beneath available for others to view. Her hand shook a little when she reached for the center of the drapes, pushing past and taking a deep breath.

Chapter Two

The first thing that entered her mind was the sensory overload from looking and listening. Voices, music, colors and people, all floating together somehow in a kaleidoscope that just seemed to fit.

The chamber – and she just knew instantly that calling it a room would be flat out wrong – but the chamber was immense. There were shelves on the walls with candles; there were low lamps lighting things. Nothing bright or garish. Flames flickered off the faux candles and shimmered against reflective surfaces hung on the walls and from the ceiling.

She felt like she was at the lower level, gradually taking in the other levels as her brain could process them. The first level she noticed was the dark, low music. Nothing hard and pounding. Nothing that would distract at all but something you could focus on to meditate.

Then there was the furniture and rustic, muted colors on the walls. There were heavily cushioned sofas; comfortable chairs, benches, barstools and large, thick pillows strewn about the whole chamber. Bars were established at each end and in the center wall.

A gentle throat clearing sent heat flooding her cheeks.

She’d come through the drapes and froze, taking it all in and forgetting there might be someone coming in behind her. She moved to the side, unable to take her eyes off the expansive landscape spread before her.

She was accustomed to the business world. She was used to numbers and programming and teaching people how to work programs for their jobs. It was all so very black and white. And nothing like what she was watching now.

Only by finally focusing on the people did she realize she still had the cloak draped around her shoulders. And that she was considerably over dressed.

It wasn’t that any of them were naked. Close, she realized, taking in the variety of ways the Arabian Nights were being interpreted and exhaling very slowly. It was suddenly becoming very warm inside the chamber and she knew it wasn’t because of the huge fireplace on the other side of the room.

She reached both hands up to open the final clasp on the cloak, stopping only long enough to reach into the pocket and take the gold token from inside, sliding it carefully into her bodice and beneath one breast. She removed the cloak and walked to the young man standing behind the large counter, a thick black collar around his neck and smile on his face as he took the cloak. He handed her a small ticket, brows up as she slid it into the bodice of her bra.

“No pockets,” she said with a casual shrug, turning and keeping to the outer edge of the large open chamber. Then she remembered the slim chain around her neck and shoulders and the small brightly beaded bag she’d brought with her. Her fingers moved to absently tuck the cloak room ticket inside and snap it closed, letting it rest against her hip.

Bailey had long ago learned that watching provided a person with the most valuable information available. Now was no exception. She was positive this was far from a typical Halloween party. There was food and plenty of drink, and tons of costumes. But the people were most fascinating. She took in the positions, the behaviors and amazing tenderness she watched between some couples. Some female couples, some male and most mixed. But always one in the lead position. She studied them. Watched their posture, their demeanor and how they interacted. There were slight differences, but the implication was clearly understood.

One story up, leaning over the heavy wrought iron railing, Gabriel Garrett watched the petite Jeannie study the scenes laid out across the expanse of flooring. He corrected himself. The scenes were of interest to her, but the people were what she studied.

He also knew he wasn’t the only one watching her. He found himself wondering if the red hair was real. Her outfit hid a lot. Too much. And she wasn’t a regular. He knew them all. He wondered which of the patrons had sponsored her entrance into the club. He even knew most of the part time players. The mask hid only a portion of her face and did nothing to dim those wide green eyes that flickered from shock to surprise to arousal.

Then perhaps he had to take his partial ownership seriously and take care of the newcomer. He straightened in time to see something that brought a low and primal growl from deep inside him.

Bailey studied and processed what she was watching. There were people in all shapes and colors, she realized. It also seemed to transcend age. It was the Pacific Northwest area, though, so she shouldn’t have been surprised by the wide diversity.

She was careful to stay out of the way. The huge floor appeared to be broken down in nicely arranged compartments without walls or barriers. She looked down at the combination flooring and tiles, only then noticing the geometrical designs. People seemed to understand the breakdown and took portions appropriate to whatever they were doing with a partner. Or partners.

She swallowed a gulp. And none of them appeared the least bit shy or reserved. The sounds definitely helped to heat any part of her left chilled. It was like watching live action porn, she thought, the few times she’d watched modern porn it hadn’t done a thing for her. This… She blew a puff of breath between her lips and felt the lips of her pussy twitch.

“Are you here alone?” The large man stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

“I’m just visiting,” she answered hastily, eyes wide behind the mask. His lack of attention to her personal space sent her backing up a step as he circled her, like a predator sizing up the perspective meal.

“No collar and no cuffs.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s play, little girl,” a harsh voice spoke close to her ear and made her snap up and stumble in the effort to face the male speaking to her.

He was dressed totally in black, like the evil character in Aladdin, she thought briefly, even wearing a turban.

“No. No, thank you. That’s very kind of you. Honestly, I’m just…” The words rattled off in a fast staccato.

“Silence!” He ordered cruelly.

“Wait! There’s been a mistake,” she said hurriedly.

She was still taking in the various scenarios when the hand came from behind her and gripped her upper arm with biting force. A startled yelp left her lips. Eyes brightened all the more because of the biting pain in her arm and shimmered with moisture behind the frosted silver mask she wore. She stared up, confused and frightened at the harsh words and deep voice.

“Never look me in the eye, slut!” He growled, dragging her forward and pushing her against the wall.

“I’m sorry,” she said earnestly, honestly. “I am really, really sorry. Please…you’re hurting me. This is a mistake. Let me go.”

“Perhaps a little more pain is just what you need to learn your lesson,” he raised his hand and swept his palm across her face. Bailey was too stunned to scream and it froze in her throat. He’d brought it to the other side, about to bring it down on the shaking, cowering woman when his wrist was gripped and twisted behind him.

“Dennis, you’ve made a grievous mistake,” Gabriel’s voice was low and hoarse, his gaze quickly sweeping the woman. “Release her. Now. Or I’ll break your arm and it will be well within the rights of management.”

“Fuck you, Garrett! Get the hell out of my scene! And it’s
Master
Dennis!”

Bailey realized that suddenly the voice didn’t seem so confident or sure of himself. Master? She heard a little whimper and realized it was from her.

“What’s your safe word, girl?” Gabriel stared into a pair of emerald eyes baffled and far too wide and a heart shaped face losing its color. He pushed harder, shoving the arm he held higher. “You didn’t ask her safe word?”

“I don’t have one. I…this is the first time I’ve been here,” she tried explaining hastily. “I’m not really sure what it is…”

“Do you know Dennis?” He looked into the wide, frightened eyes, her head shaking negatively immediately.

“I’ve never seen him before in my life,” she whispered raggedly. “I swear.”

“Lying to me, Dennis? And abusing a guest who did not ask for your attention?” Gabriel twisted the arm he held a little tighter.

“She’s a lying bitch. She’s not wearing a collar or cuffs. That means she’s free game.”

“Safe, sane and consensual,” Gabriel said the words evenly. “Did you give your consent to Dennis?”

“No. I told him no. That he was making a mistake…” Bailey closed her mouth and tried to slow her breathing.

“What’s her name?” Gabriel raised his other hand, crooked a finger at her and waited until she moved quickly away from Dennis and to his side. He tapped his ear and leaned toward her. “Name?”

“Bee,” she whispered very softly, taking in the spicy scent of the man who’d come to her rescue. “Just like the letter.” She felt that was the safest answer. This was a place she decided she didn’t belong and as soon as she found a way out without causing any more trouble, she was gone.

“I don’t have to tell you jack. Let go of me.”

Bailey stayed out of his range, her hands clenching in front of her, worried he’d get free and hit her again. She brought one palm up and rubbed her cheek. She could feel the heat of his stinging slap. If she wasn’t wearing soft slippers, she’d have at least kicked at him, the time honored girl battle plan.

“You’ve lost your privileges, Dennis. Next time, stay sober when you want to play,” Gabriel nodded to a man that had come forward. “Escort Dennis to the exit. He’s lost his privileges until further notice. He can petition management for reinstatement and explain his behavior then. See that video is pulled and attached to his file.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bailey backed up another step when Dennis growled and made a grab for her, only to find himself almost lifted from the floor by the young man wearing a security t-shirt as he was walked toward the draped exit.

She wasn’t sure where the strength in her knees had gone but was really grateful for the wall behind her. Palms flattened out and her eyes closed. She tried slowing her breathing, tried making things stop spinning. She’d just wanted an adult Halloween party. Was that too much to ask?

“Some water, Gabe,” a deep voice spoke just in front of her. “I’m sorry we didn’t step in. It’s hard to know…”

“I only know because I’ve watched the room for too long, James. Thank you,” he took the water in one hand, holding the tall iced glass to her lips. “Drink, girl.”

Her lips parted as ordered, his voice a low, sensuous sound that broke apart all the noises going on around her. Something she could hold onto, focus on. She took several long swallows before raising a hand and opening her eyes. She pressed the glass back politely.

“Thank you. I…I don’t know what I did…”

“It isn’t you. He broke a couple rules, one of which to never come here drunk,” he handed the glass to a passing waiter. “Let’s go to one of the quiet corners and talk. I think your color is coming back. I’m sorry he frightened you. More sorry that he struck you.” He held out his palm. “Gabriel.”

“Bee,” she answered automatically, sliding her hand into his and watching the large fingers close around hers.

Bailey let herself be led. He was easy to follow. His voice was pleasant, she thought again. Low and seductive. Smooth and compelling. Like something out of one of her best romance novels, she mused.

She glanced around the corner he led her to. Quiet and a little apart from the others chatting. She settled into the corner of a large, cushioned sofa, her knees drawn up beside her.

“Bee,” Gabriel spoke her name softly, watching her eyes. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble for her costume. So how could she be on the chamber floor and look so innocent? How the hell was she on the chamber floor and not know what it was all about? And he knew from watching her that she didn’t have a clue what she had walked into when she came through the curtains. “How did you get here?”