Switch Master: 6 (Ink and Kink) (35 page)

Looking around, Taran saw Avery Grant sitting with her
friends Eve Stratham and Remy Sinclair on the other side of the bench. Cassie
and Morgan were seated to the right of the bleachers in two camp chairs. Phalen
stood close behind them, keeping guard over his wife and sister-in-law.

“Been planning a proposal, Maddox,” Hazard revealed.

“You’re only saying that because you know Alex will kung fu
your ass if you don’t,” Taran said, glancing over at Alex’s very pretty blonde
sister. One look at Alex and Avery, it was easy to see they were related.

“Alex and I have an agreement. No ass-kicking unless Avery
comes home from Dare, Nevada without a ring on her finger.”

“When do you two leave?” Taran asked.

“Our flight’s Sunday, Remy and Eve are planning on driving
out to Nevada to meet up with some friends of mine and Avery’s.”

“Why not take a flight? It’d be easier and faster.” Made
sense to Taran, but not everyone liked to fly.

“They’re stopping along the way to do some research for his
ghost hunter reality show. He wants to expand beyond New England.”

“Let’s hope Remy gets off his ass and makes that woman his,”
Ethan said, joining in the conversation. “He looks at Eve the way I look at
Morgan, the way my pigheaded brother looks at my partner, with longing. He
wants her.”

“That may be true, but I suspect he doesn’t want to hurt
her,” Alex said. “He’s bi.”

“Then I say if he hurts Evelyn Stratham, we beat the hell
outta him,” Hazard said. “Eve and Avery are best friends. That makes Eve family
in my book.”

“Maybe there’s some Maddox in you after all, Osbourne,”
Ethan said, tossing a handful of popcorn at the linebacker and laughing when it
got caught in his long light brown hair, prompting retaliation.

After the popcorn battle ended and was cleaned up by those
who’d made the mess Taran rocked back to watch his fiancée’s team beat the
women from Ashford.

“Alex, you know what to do,” Taran said.

“Yep, gotcha, bro,” Alex agreed. “See you in Danvers.”

Defeating the Ashford Amazons was a trip! Sam was beyond
thrilled.

Knowing she’d contributed to the Femme Fatales’ victory made
the win all the better. Knowing she was engaged to Taran Maddox made her the
happiest woman in the whole world.

Celebrating with her fellow Fatales, she was still basking
in the glow of being newly engaged on top of winning the derby when someone
knocked on the makeshift door.

“Ladies, mind if I come in? If someone’s naked, don’t mind
me. I’m gay, I won’t look,” Alex called out, making them all laugh.

“Don’t fall for it. He’d look,” Sam warned. “Alex, it’s
safe.”

Alex walked in. He wore an impeccably tailored navy suit.
Sam thought he looked incredibly handsome, especially since the pale-blue color
of his dress shirt matched his eyes. His hair was styled as if he were planning
to grace the cover of
GQ
.

“What’s up?” she asked Alex.

“I’m here on Taran’s behalf.”

“Where’s my fiancé? It’s time to celebrate,” she replied,
showing off her gorgeous new ring. The diamonds sparkled, the center emerald
gleamed.

Alex caught her hand in his, dragging her right up for a
bear hug that would do a Maddox proud. “Congratulations. He asked me to escort
you to Druid Creek Castle.”

Drawing back, she frowned. “He’s already left?”

“He made sure Emily met up with her dad then took Luke home.
Trust me, no, trust him, Sam. He’ll meet you soon.”

“Can I take five minutes to change into my jeans?”

“Absolutely, once we’re at the castle, everything will
become crystal clear.”

“I’ll meet you in five.”

Alex left the dressing room, giving Sam the time she needed
to change, gather her makeup and belongings into a gym bag and head out. The
flowers Martin had given her were lovely so she decided to share them with her
friends, passing them out among the Femme Fatales, then she tucked the card
into her bag and headed out the door.

“Ready?” Alex asked, reaching out for her bag.

“I can take this. Yes, I’m ready.”

“Tonight, I wait on you,” he said, insisting on taking the
bag.

She knew the thing was heavy after all the stuff she’d put
in it. Alex didn’t miss a beat. His superb suit hid a deceptively fit
kung-fu-ripped body. Ryan Hathaway was a lucky man.

Alex led Sam to his brand new Audi SUV. The thing was a gem
and perfect for bad weather. He’d had to exchange his Audi sedan for it, but
she’d say he made the right call, regardless of it being springtime.

“You mind telling me what’s going on, Alex?” she asked when
he opened the back door for her.

“I’m unable to say, Mistress Samantha,” he answered,
lowering his eyes.

The way he called her Mistress caused her to stare at him.
He said nothing more, keeping his head bowed as he waited for her to climb into
the back.

Suddenly empowered by her own dominant response to his
submissiveness, she said, “You may lift your gaze.”

“Thank you,” he replied, bringing his eyes up so they were
on her face. “If you would kindly slip inside the car, I’ll escort you to your
destination.”

Agreeing, Sam gave him the courtesy of assisting her into
the back of the huge SUV. The leather seat was soft as sin, the interior filled
with jazz music and a bottle of sparkling white grape juice was being chilled
in a bucket. Champagne glasses were perched in a special rack usually found in
limousines.

She looked around at Alex, discovering he’d left her
momentarily. Movement in the back of the SUV told her he’d stowed her gym bag.

“What is all this?” she asked when he returned and reached
inside the vehicle for the bottle of juice.

In seconds, he popped the cork and poured the fizzy drink
into a flute, handing it to her. Surprisingly, the champagne flute was made out
of plastic.

“It’s a celebration,” he told her. “One thing you should
always avoid on a night such as this is alcohol. Sparkling juice is the closest
I could come up with to toast your engagement in champagne style.”

“Excellent idea, thank you,” she said. He took the second
flute, filled it and they clinked the flutes in salute, both sipping the faux
champagne and sharing a smile.

With that, Alex finished his juice and replaced his flute in
the rack and the bottle of grape juice in the ice bucket. Making sure she was
buckled in, he closed the door for her, strolling around the Audi to the front.

The engine was already purring. Sam figured he’d started it
remotely. Falling into step with the mystery of the night, she continued to
enjoy her juice, imagining it was Dom Perignon.

Alex expertly maneuvered the Audi out of the crowded rink
parking lot and down the winding road to Route 9. Sam was admittedly crushing
on him. Right now, he wasn’t a famous sports agent and entrepreneur. He was
submissive to her, a Dominant. It was new and exciting, enchanting.

She didn’t switch the music. She liked jazz, finding it
soothing and comforting after the blasting bass and throb of what the DJ had
spun inside during the roller derby.

Relaxing against the soft leather seat, she looked out the
window, seeing the road she’d have turned onto to get to the safe haven for
survivors of domestic abuse. Survivors such as Bella and Teri, who’d found
courage in roller derby, were taking strides to move on with their lives.

“Alex, do you know when Cassie’s telethon to benefit the
safe haven is going to be scheduled for? I recall there’d been a conflict when
she contacted the theater from last April.”

“Theater wasn’t available until August,” he answered. “With
a baby on the way, it seemed best to wait until then.”

“I’ve recently come into a substantial amount of money.
After I pay the taxes, I’d like to donate it to the safe haven as well as
assist or establish a shelter for runaways. That is, if Taran agrees to the
idea.”

“He’ll agree,” Alex said. “If you two need help, I’m your
guy. I’m certain Doc and I would be willing to match dollar for dollar what you
apply to the shelter project.”

“Thanks, Alex, we’ll take you up on the assistance. Maybe
we’ll have a fundraiser that won’t interfere with Cassie’s.”

“You know that’s right up my alley. But, sweetheart, tonight
you’re not Detective Sam Riley. Tonight, Doc and I are going to transform you
into Mistress Samantha, a Domme who will make her sub bow at her feet.”

“Drive on then,” she urged, fascinated and more than a
little turned-on.

Sam had no real idea how long it took for them to reach
Druid Creek Castle in Danvers. She saw flashes of road signs, overhead lights
and knew when they’d left the highway. The newly built archway at the foot of
the castle’s driveway was her clue that they’d arrived.

For a Friday evening, the parking lot was empty. Usually,
the restaurant was packed for date nights. The pub in the basement would be
teaming with bar hoppers and regulars.

“Alex, where are all the cars?”

“The castle is closed to all save you and Taran this
evening.”

“Weren’t your regular customers and employees upset by that?”

“Doc and I take care of our staff, no worries there. Our
customers are aware that there are times when the castle closes for private
occasions.”

Sam didn’t immediately see Taran’s truck. Doc’s SUV was
parked in one of the owner’s spots. It was possible that Taran wasn’t there yet
or parked around the back.

Alex came around and opened her door, assisting her to her
feet. The superior cut of his suit and his manner made her feel pampered,
worthy, as if she were royalty.

She only wished she wore something other than jeans, her
standard black jacket and a tee shirt. This was a very special occasion, hers
and Taran’s engagement night.

“Join us inside,” Alex invited, taking her by the elbow in
such a gallant fashion she nearly tripped over herself.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re hot, driver?” she asked
teasingly.

“My Master, all the time,” he answered sweetly, flushing so
strongly she could see it despite the artificial glow of street lamps overhead.

“I sure hope your Master takes care of you. If he doesn’t,
send him to me. I’ll straighten him out for you.”

“Thank you, but it is best not to worry about me, keep your
focus on your sub, always,” he replied softly, leading her on. “Take care of
him, praise him, give him strength and let him use the power you’ve awarded to
him for submitting.”

“I will, thank you,” she replied earnestly.

They entered the castle through a side door, heading down a
long hallway to a set of elevators. Expecting to go up, she started when they
went down to the basement level.

The elevator doors slid open to another hallway. If they
turned left, they’d go to a storage area. If they went right, they’d come out
to the pub, restrooms and a large conference room that could be divided into
two rooms. Alex guided her to the storage area.

“Where are we going, Alex? I…” Her voice trailed off the
moment he led her through the door, straight into something out of a leather
fetish fantasy.

Instead of bed-and-breakfast supplies, there were four racks
of clothes, all leather, lace or PVC, in a variety of colors, from skimpy to
classically sexy, to barely there. Shoes and boots in a plethora of styles were
laid out on two tables.

“This is incredible,” she said as a door to the back of the
storage room opened.

Alex’s husband, Ryan Hathaway, walked through it and
holy-bleeping-cow he was decked out in black leather pants, vest, belt, wicked
boots on his feet. Those boots looked massive, heavy and badass.

A black mask hid much of his handsome face, the slits so
narrow she couldn’t see his eyes.

“Welcome, Mistress Samantha. We’ve been expecting you.
Before we proceed further, you may select your attire for the evening.”

Sam looked around, intrigued and curious. At the Shibari
workshop she’d attended with Taran, Ryan had worn leather, yet he’d given off
an instructional vibe. Tonight, his vibe was Master of all he surveyed, subs
tremble in his wake.

“Shall we get started?” Alex offered, moving up behind her.
“I’ve got you. Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you.”

Comforted by Alex’s whispered promise, Sam lifted her eyes
and connected with Ryan. “I’m ready. What’s to happen to all these clothes
after I choose something?”

“Everything you see is yours,” Alex answered.

“Everything?”

“Yes, Mistress, your fiancé purchased them for you. I am
your humble servant. Allow me to help you select this evening’s attire.”

“What about Ryan?”

“My Master will oversee your understanding of anything you
wish to use on your sub. You’ve had training with Phalen, there’s no one
better. Just don’t let my husband hear you say that. He gets pissed when he’s
not seen as the biggest badass in the room.”

Ryan stepped forward, pushing aside the rack closest to him
to reveal an array of whips, floggers, belts, straps and crops hanging from
hooks. Everything was what she’d checked off on the Maddox brothers’ online
catalog for fetish and dungeon gear.

Encouraged by the hot-as-hell sub at her back, she perused
the racks of clothes. Ultimately she selected a black-and-red one-piece leather
bustier that would lift her ample breasts and had a diamond-shaped cut-out to
expose her tight abdomen.

What happened next startled her. Alex began undressing her,
as surely and deftly as a lady’s maid might have done for her mistress in a
bygone era. As he worked, Alex’s husband and Master observed, his eyes though
hidden intent on Alex’s movements.

Pushing her inner sub deep down inside herself due to Ryan’s
presence, she lifted her chin, allowing him to continue. A Domme wouldn’t balk
or blush if a sub, no matter their sex, undressed her.

She was a little concerned that she hadn’t been able to
shower at the roller rink, but was glad she’d not forgotten deodorant when
she’d changed. To her shock, and secret delight, Alex told her he’d be right
back, leaving her alone with Ryan.

Alex returned without his suit coat on, his sleeves rolled
up and a towel draped over his forearm. In his hands were a small water basin
and a bottle of lotion. Setting the basin on a small table near her, she saw a
sponge floating in the sweet-smelling water.

With utmost care, he washed her face, moving on to her
throat, her underarms and so forth, washing her all over, including between her
legs. Samantha didn’t balk, she let him do what he was doing, it was thrilling,
sensual, easing her mind, increasing her need to seduce.

Fortunately for Alex and Ryan, they weren’t the ones she
wanted to seduce. Taran, her lover, her friend, her soon-to-be switch Master
was the only man she’d ever want.

After she was clean, Alex dried her with the extra-soft
towel, casting it aside then applying lotion to her skin. It was so luxurious,
it felt as if she’d stepped out of a spa when he finished.

Alex disappeared long enough to take away the toiletries,
returning with a satchel. Carefully, competently, he applied makeup to her
face, spending extra attention on her eyes and mouth.

“Maybe you should have been a makeup artist,” Samantha
whispered to him, aware that his Master was overseeing her transformation.

And then it happened. At some point in the evening, she’d
changed from thinking of herself as Sam Riley to Mistress Samantha.

Alex took a brush from the satchel, running it through her
hair until it fell all around her shoulders in a sleek blonde curtain.

“Would you prefer wearing your hair down or up, Mistress?”

“Down, please.”

“As you wish,” he replied, winking in a way that was
momentarily out of character.

“Flirt at your own peril, Alexander,” his Master warned, the
deep baritone of Ryan’s voice making Samantha shake almost as much as Alex did.