Red Hots (5 page)

His
brother, Sweet, was just as good as he and could easily become a Master
trainer. However, Sweet had lost his edge, his focus. Masaun did not believe
that Sweet lost his commitment to the lifestyle, but even when Sweet was at the
dungeon, he wasn’t.

“You
have your hands full tonight.” Master Zach, the owner of The Dollhouse moved up
beside him.

Masaun
glanced at the man who had not only rounded out his education on how to be a
proper Dom, but also selected and trusted him as a trainer. The slim, silver-haired
man was not quite as tall as he was or built as broad but he could wield any
and all the tools of the trade better than anyone Masaun knew.

“I
was supposed to have four tonight, but one of the female subs did not show up.”

“Ah,
no dedication. That’s what I love about the training course that new submissives
and couples have to go through before they can become full-access members. It
weeds out those who can’t commit the time. Some just want a place they can pop
in and out of when the mood strikes.”

“True.”
Masaun surveyed the female sub he’d named Bambi, whose light-brown eyes were large
with long lashes. The only things big on her tiny, short frame were her
nipples. Currently, he had vibrating clamps attached to them and a sign around
her neck that read TURN ME ON FOR FIVE SECONDS, PLEASE.

Bambi’s
job was to take drinks from the Dom at the bar and carry them to the tray held
by another trainee in the middle of the floor. The only problem she was having
in performing her duties was that every time she passed a dominant dungeon
member, they flicked the switch and in that five seconds she was trembling and
close to an orgasm, which she was not allowed to have. Most times, she ended up
spilling at least one soda and had to return to the bar. During the few weeks
she had been in training with him, he’d discovered her nipples were ultra-sensitive.
Tonight he capitalized on that to help her work on her control.

The
male he’d named Pup was the trainee holding the tray. He had shaggy brown hair
and pale skin. Blindfolded, the tall, husky man was on his knees in chaps with
his ass pushed out and bare, as he extended his hands with a tray awaiting
sodas. Masaun could clearly see that Pup’s ass was already a rosy hue from the
dominants who were doing everything from pinching his ass to spanking it with a
paddle. After someone would strike his cheek and take a soda from his tray, Pup
would respond as instructed “Thank you, Sir.”

Pup
was in search of a Mistress; he wanted to be owned and dedicate his life to the
service of a woman.

His
third and final trainee of the night was presently strapped to the St. Andrews,
naked except for the body glitter on her skin and the butterfly vibrator held
against her clit by straps around her thighs. He honored her with the name
Seondeok, after the first reigning Queen of Korea. The sub was a full-figured
Korean-American woman who was shy and ashamed of her body. In the weeks he’d
been working with her, he noticed that anytime he’d have the trainee select
things from his wardrobe chest to wear for the night, Seondeok would garb
herself in whatever covered the most and at times added extra layers.

Before
her was a table with feathers of different types and sizes. Anyone was allowed
to stroke and caress her body with the feathers. Masaun held the control to the
vibrator and he turned it off and on periodically, bringing her to one
screaming orgasm after another. He told her on the first day that BDSM wasn’t
about the body, but the heart and soul of the person dominating and submitting.
Now, he was proving it to her by allowing her to connect with light sensations
all over her voluptuous form as she sparkled and took her pleasure before
people who would not judge her.

“The
three in this batch will make the person dominating them extremely blessed. They
all have servant hearts and a willingness to be led.” He felt pride in his
trainees.

“Excellent,
next week we’ll have a match night with some of the available Doms and Dommes
and see if we can help them connect with someone.”

“That
works,” Masaun confirmed.

Zach
gave him a sharp nod and strolled off toward the back hall where semi-private
rooms were located.

The
rear door to the club opened and Masaun glanced in that direction, seeing his
brother enter, alone. Dressed in standard dark apparel like most of the Doms,
Sweet made a direct line to the bar. After ordering a soda, his brother glanced
around, eyes blank as he waited to be served. Sweet’s stare met his, paused and
held for a brief moment. Masaun didn’t approach him, knowing Sweet had to work
out his own demons on his own. Giving his brother a sharp nod, it was returned
before Sweet turned his attention to the soda now set before him.

Masaun
shifted his focus back to his trainees, going from one to the other, assuring
himself that they were all doing well. There was a weight of discontent in his
gut, as it was every time he was close to completing his time with new submissive
trainees. None of them were his. If he connected with anyone he was training,
there was nothing that said he could not take them on as his own. But other
than a pseudo-parental admiration for what they accomplished while under his
guidance, he felt nothing.

No
tug to his heart or his groin. It had been that way for him too many years to
start counting. Briefly, he allowed his gaze to travel around the crowd in the
dungeon. His sights alighted on a black woman wrapped with silk shibari ropes
and hanging four feet from the floor below a beam structure. The woman lay
still, assured in her Dom’s ability to suspend her there, and her features were
relaxed in peace.

The
view caused his mind to open the mental door he had closed on images and
thoughts of Kindle for the night. His body immediately responded and his heart
began to thump hard in his chest and his cock pulsed with each strong beat in
his pants. Unlike this woman who was relaxed and uninhibited by the stressors
of the world, Kindle was not.

He
could not stop himself from pondering what Kindle would look like displayed
like any of his trainees, or simply unrestrained. Would a woman like her ever
be able to relinquish control to someone else, even for a moment, a night, a
scene? No, his mind declared. Over the years he had seen many women and men
find they were unable to submit or even properly lead because they couldn’t let
go of the traps around their mind.

However,
his gut disagreed and brought to mind the image of Kindle remaining still for
the briefest of moments in her office. Her body responding to his command. But,
was that all she would be capable of, this small subconscious reaction?

“Ohh…nooooo.”
The sound of Bambi climaxing and the two plastic cups of soda crashing to the
floor drew his mind away from Kindle.

Locking
away thoughts of the sexy lawyer, Masaun flicked the switch in his pocket to
turn on Seondeok’s butterfly as he crossed to the bar to take care of Bambi.

Tomorrow
night would be soon enough to discover how far he would be able to push Kindle
toward her true nature.

CHAPTER Five

Kindle
checked the clock again for the tenth time. She had an hour and a half before
the time she was due to meet Masaun for dinner and she stood in her room as she
had for over an hour—bra and panties only. She pulled out one outfit after
another and still she could not decide.

“This
probably means I should just cancel. It’s a sign.” However, she knew she didn’t
believe in signs. What she did know was that Masaun Hawkes did something to
her. He stirred something deep inside of her that made her both apprehensive
and excited. The excitement that bubbled up from within her when she saw him or
even heard his voice over the phone was what caused fear to sit in a back
corner of her stomach.

No
man should be so all-consuming, and compelling.

On
her bed was a simple embroidered lace overlay sheath dress in navy. It was high
collared in the front, but dipped to the center of her back. The three-quarter-length
lace sleeve revealed her arms beneath. She knew the dress would hug her body
from neck to mid-thigh where it stopped. It was the sexiest thing she owned.
She’d picked it up on a splurge while out shopping with her best friend. It was
a nun’s habit compared to some of the things Emmalee had picked up to wear when
she went out with Randolph, the man her friend referred to as her Master.

Shaking
her head, Kindle didn’t even ponder the titles her friend was always tossing
around—Masters, submissives and Doms. A world not for her.

“When
you meet someone, even if you’re going to turn them down, a woman should put
her best foot forward.” Deciding on the dress, she put it on. She liked her
reflection in her mirror. Even though she still needed to take out the single
plait she put in her hair to create waves and her face held no make-up; she
appeared confident, sexy and carefree. It was a different look for her, but she
enjoyed it. At least for this one night.

On
her way to the bathroom the ringing of her phone stopped her. Turning, she went
to her nightstand and picked it up.

“Hi,
Dad,” Kindle said. “How are you?” It was unusual for her father, Reese
Langston, to call her on a Saturday evening; generally she called him.

“Kin,
I’m fine. I had not heard from you all week. However, I wasn’t worried because
I know you have that big case going on.” Her father had begun calling her Kin
when she was in law school and had impressed upon her the importance of the men
she associated with seeing her as an equal and not a sexual object.

After
that, she started introducing herself that way. Now she gazed at her reflection
in the mirror as a niggling of doubt began to build.

“Yes,
I do. It’s been pretty hectic with the jury selection. Trying to find anyone in
this city who doesn’t have children or grandchildren around the age of the
defendant or who doesn’t want to see him dead was practically an impossible
task.”

“Sometimes
there is no jury of peers for a vicious man.”

“Very
true. We finally were able to gather the best objective minds we could find out
of two hundred and seventy-five selectees.”

Her
father let out a low whistle. “I’ve been following it on the news. I know you’ll
get him. You’re tough and focused.”

“Thanks
for the confidence, Dad.” She meant that. Her father could be stringent and
overbearing at times, but he truly believed in her ability to be the best.

“You’re
welcome,” he said, his voice deep and clear, perfect diction. “I’m just glad
you’re not with a male companion now that can distract you.”

Kindle
sat down on the side of her bed, feeling the weight of her dad’s censorship
piling up on her shoulders. She and Simeon had been over for more than a year
now. But she could still recall after she told her father about them, thinking
he’d been happy she was dating someone in the same field who was just as dedicated
to his career as she was to hers. However, through the year-long relationship,
her father used every opportunity to tell her how she was losing her drive,
falling backseat to her colleagues because she was kissing when she should be
reviewing her cases for angles to victory. The relationship became strained and
finally fell apart. She and Simeon remained friends, but nothing more.

“Of
course, Dad. This case for me is top priority.” She began idly plucking at the
lacy hem of her dress.

“Everyone
must retire one day. CA Bryan Harvey has already announced that he was seeking
re-election. When CA Bryan Harvey does retire, I’m sure you’re going to be up
for election to replace him.”

“You
think so?” She wasn’t sure. Kindle knew she was good, if not the best, but the
other assistant CAs were just as hardworking.

“I
know so.” His voice resounded through the line with confidence. “Well, I’ll let
you go, so you can get back to what you were doing, reviewing your case, I’m
sure.”

“Okay,
Dad.” She didn’t correct his assumption. “I love you.”

“Love
you.” He hung up.

She
pressed the end call. Glancing down, she noticed her free hand was no longer
fiddling with the edge of the dress, but was balled into a tight fist, her
nails buried deep.

Quickly,
she opened her hand and took a breath. Looking over at the clock, she realized
she was running out of time. She abhorred people that were late. She saw she
had only fifteen minutes to get out the door to make it to the restaurant in
time, which was forty-five minutes away.

Moving
fast, she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it to her bed with the
other things. Dashing into her closet, she grabbed a skirt and top. After
putting them on, she slipped her feet into heels and raced to the bathroom.

This
is why she went to work almost two hours early. She hated rushing around like a
mad woman. Her room was in complete disarray by the time she was in her
bathroom applying a small amount of make-up and deciding to twist the braid
into a bun instead of letting it out as she’d planned.

Leaving
her bathroom, she almost became sick at the sight of her room, but she didn’t
have time to do anything about it. Walking into the living room, she grabbed
her purse and keys as she headed out the door.

The
call from her father was just what she needed to put things back in perspective
where Masaun was concerned. Her plate was already full and she didn’t have room
to add anything or anyone else in her life right now.

As
she drove eastbound on Interstate 264, she kept repeating one thing over and
over in her head.

This
isn’t a date.

~YH~

From
his seat at their table, Masaun watched Kindle rush in the front door of Crocs.
She paused and he watched her take a few breaths, as one closed fist pressed
tight to her stomach and the other hand clutched the strap of her purse. A mask
of calm appeared to drop over her features and she moved toward the waitress
who walked to the foyer and greeted her.

They
spoke briefly before the employee escorted Kindle across the restaurant toward
him. Rising, he watched Kindle. Unlike most of the other female customers in
the place who were dressed in various after-five casual and sexy apparel for an
evening by the oceanfront with dates or friends, his dinner companion was not.

Kindle
looked as if she were meeting someone for a business dinner or possibly having
dinner on her way back to work. His gaze was drawn to her shoes, some kind of a
leather bootie-style heels around four inches in height. The shoes showcased
her creamy chestnut-brown legs and the muscle tone. He wondered if she were a
runner. Lifting his gaze, he took in her apparel. She wore a straight, burgundy
skirt that stopped just below her knees. It was conservatively cut, however, it
could not hide the round curves of her hips. The skirt was paired with a white
long-sleeve blouse that was tucked into her skirt and buttoned to the leather-trimmed
collar that matched the adornment at the cuffs of the shirt. Both of the
leather accents on the blouse caused his mind to shift to another image and
another place. His gut tightened as a picture flashed in his mind of Kindle
naked and only wearing a bondage collar snug around her throat, cuffs locked
together and the shoes on her feet.

In
her conservative apparel she made him want her even more. Both as a sexual
partner and a submissive, in either scenario he wanted to watch her come
undone. Starting with the bun at the back of her head.

“Good
evening, Kindle. You’re late.” Masaun, still standing, kept his gaze on her
eyes.

“Excuse
me.” Kindle glanced to her left, looking at the waitress who was still standing
beside her, most likely waiting for them to be seated so she could take their
drink orders. When Kindle’s gaze shifted back to him, she had a small smile on
her face, tight at the corners. “I believe we agreed upon five-thirty.”

“Check
your watch,” he commanded.

Again,
she shifted her eyes to the waitress before Kindle pushed up her left sleeve
and glanced down at the thin watch on her slender wrist. Kindle’s eyes met his
again. “It’s five-thirty-two, which means I was at the door at the exact time
then crossed the room and debated with you for at least thirty seconds.”

“Which
may have put you at the table at five thirty-one. You’re still late.”

The
corners of Kindle’s mouth pressed together. Masaun could practically see the
clockwork gadgets in her mind spinning. He figured she didn’t appreciate being
called to task by anyone and especially not in a semi-packed public place. He
doubted Kindle would admit embarrassment, but he could see the signs in her
mouth, the squint of her eyes and the tilt of her head just oh so slightly to
the right. As a lawyer, she would be analyzing her options, give in or stand
her ground or walk away.

“I
could leave.” The walking away ploy was her choice.

“You
could,” he countered, purposely pushing her to her limit. As a Dom and a
trainer, he had to see what made her cave. Everyone had a hard line.

He
noticed her hands balling into fists at her sides. They were so tight that he
could see the skin pulling across her knuckles. Kindle took a deep breath and
let it out slowly as the veneer of calm draped her features. Masaun was
beginning to dislike the falseness of the expression.

“I
don’t like to waste my time or gas. Since I’m here already, I can at least hear
you out and conclude our business for good.” Kindle’s voice was smooth, crisp
and professional as if she were prepared to give dictation.

Why
won’t she show her true emotions?
She had every right to be pissed at him for the way he spoke to her. He’d even
expected it.

Shifting
his gaze to the waitress, he said, “We’ll have two waters at the moment,
please.”

Looking
relieved to finally be able to leave, the waitress handed them their menus then
mumbled something about being right back before strutting away quickly.

Kindle
started to take her seat, across from his chair at the two person table, when
he stepped around behind her and held it.

Once
she was settled, she glanced up over her shoulder at him, her eyes slightly
widened with surprise. “Thank you.”

“You’re
welcome.” Returning to his seat, he figured that Kindle spent most of her time
meeting with colleagues, men who were so used to treating “Kin” as an equal,
they forgot she was a woman. Evidently, Kindle forgot she was more than just a
lawyer as well.

Leaning
back in her seat, she eyed him across the table. “You know, Mr. Hawkes, I’m not
used to anyone calling me to task as you just did. I’m not a child.”

Purposely,
he moved his gaze from her face and allowed it to slowly lower past her chin,
along the column of her neck to her breasts held high beneath her top. When he
met her gaze again, he allowed her to see the heat simmering in his body
through his gaze. At every opportunity, he was prepared to make sure Kindle
clearly understood the last thing he wanted from her was
business
. “No,
you’re not.”

She
swallowed.

The
waitress brought the water and a basket of fresh baked herb French baguettes.
Reaching out, Kindle took it from the woman’s hand instead of waiting for the
tall glasses to be placed on the table.

“I’ll
give you two a few more minutes to decide and be back,” the waitress said, then
darted away again.

After
a few sips, Kindle set the drink on the table. “Mr. Hawk—”

“Unless
you plan to put the handle Dom before Hawk, I suggest you call me Masaun.”

When
the small, pink tip of her tongue came out and glided over her bottom lip, he
had the urge to pull her across the table and kiss her. He didn’t. Instead he
pulled his gaze from her mouth back to her eyes.

“You
insist on calling me Kindle when I prefer Kin. It’s only three letters, not so
hard to use. Everyone else can manage it.” She snapped open her menu, as if
that concluded the discussion.