Initiation (Master Class Book 1) Read online

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m a CPA.”

  “So you’re not available the first half of April?”

  “From mid-March on, actually. But there’s always corporate work, extensions. It never really ends. And I’m hoping to go out on my own within a year or so.” Because of Logan’s patience and interest, some of her resistance to him faded. Maybe he wasn’t as dangerous as she’d originally thought. Feminine intuition shrieked in her ear. The fact that he was easy to talk to made him more dangerous than she’d originally thought. To silence the roar in her head, she asked, “What’s your story?”

  To his credit, he didn’t stall. “I was an idiot. Actually, the world’s biggest asshole. I forgot it was Valentine’s Day. Worked late. Didn’t buy her a card or a gift.” His lips were set in a tight line. Although his words were light and easy, the underlying betrayal of pain in his voice was unmistakable.

  Like he’d done for her, she waited for him to continue.

  “When I got home, all the lights were on, but Helen and her belongings were gone. She left a note with two words on it. You can probably guess what they were.” He grinned wryly.

  Their confessions had created an intimacy between them and she smiled back. “I bet I can.”

  He angled his flute and they clinked their glasses.

  “We got off to a bad start the first time I met you,” he told her. “I was an oaf, came on too strong. I apologize.”

  “An oaf?” She toyed with her glass. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone actually use that word in a sentence.”

  “I’m one of a kind,” he said. “Say you’ll forgive me.”

  How could she refuse?

  “I’m disappointed that you didn’t call.” His soft, sexy, sultry voice sent pinpricks up her spine.

  “I’m surprised you gave me a second thought,” she confessed, stunned, thrilled.

  “Every day. I’m ashamed to admit I asked Joe about you.”

  She decided not to tell him that he’d been the topic of discussion at the Carpe Diem Divas’ dinner meeting.

  “Joe said you were worth having.”

  “Did he?”

  “He suggested I try groveling.”

  Feeling lighter than she had in months, she teased, “Let me guess. That’s not one of your finer skills?”

  “Finer skills? It’s something I’ve never heard of. I had to look up the word in the dictionary.”

  She laughed.

  Logan took a step closer. He filled her vision, intimately close, making her nerve endings vibrate with awareness.

  “You’re a newbie to BDSM.”

  She wasn’t sure whether he’d guessed that or whether Joe had told him. “And?”

  “If we had scened the other night, you would have given me your phone number and taken my call the next day. And right now… Right now…?”

  Nervously, she gulped.

  “You’d be remembering how good it was. You’d have confidence, and you’d be on your knees begging me to take you to the basement.”

  Jennifer drew a shaky breath. “Look, Logan—”

  “Be as honest with yourself as I’m demanding you be with me. If you had been totally into that scene with Simon, you wouldn’t have turned to look at me. And at the end, you were disappointed with the experience, wondering if it could have been better. In fact, you’ve talked to Noelle, maybe read some things, watched some videos. You think it can be better.”

  Though she wasn’t sure why, she hesitated. After another a shallow breath, she nodded. “Yes.”

  “So why didn’t you call?” He paused. “The truth.”

  Heat rocked her. She wasn’t sure any man had ever demanded so much from her. “You make me nervous.”

  “Because?”

  Her mouth went slack. “You can’t be serious.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “You’re…” She searched for words. “Intimidating.”

  He drank the rest of his champagne and put the glass down.

  “Am I?” A smile teased the corners of his mouth. The effect was no less threatening.

  “I don’t know anything about you,” she protested.

  “Didn’t stop you with Simon.”

  “That’s different,” she protested.

  “How?”

  “He reminded me of most of the men I know. Safe.” Knowing her behavior might be reckless, she put down her glass then gave in to the stupid temptation of tracing the jagged edges of his scar.

  Logan didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away.

  “He let me tell him what I wanted.”

  “And you don’t think I would?”

  “No. Yes.” She hesitated. “It’s not the same thing at all.”

  “You’re right. I’d push you to ensure that you had the experience you wanted.” He clamped her wrist, making her regret not moving away while she’d been able to. “Do you know what a safe word is?”

  “Noelle’s told me a few things about it.”

  “Explain it to me.” His eyes seemed more opaque, the color like molten jade, revealing nothing, yet demanding everything.

  “It’s a word that will stop a BDSM scene.”

  He nodded. “Oftentimes, people will have a second word, one that means slow down or pause.”

  “Like yellow,” she said.

  “Yeah. Like yellow.”

  She nodded.

  “Right now, you’re nervous as hell.”

  As if she’d missed a tax-filing deadline. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?” she echoed, stunned, hardly able to breathe.

  “A little fear, nervousness, increases your reactions, heightens your awareness. Maybe even makes you wet.”

  God help me.

  “Tell me about your fantasies.”

  He was pushing her into areas she’d never been before. It was thrilling, frightening. Ever since she’d walked out of the front door of this house last month and left him alone in the foyer, she’d regretted the fact that she’d been a coward.

  She reminded herself that she’d vowed not to chicken out a second time. But faced with him, breathing his masculine, overwhelmingly clean scent, it was more difficult than she could imagine.

  “Tell me,” he repeated.

  She tried to pull her hand away but she was trapped, helpless.

  “Jennifer…” He said her name softly, implacably, a command as much as an entreaty.

  She was lost. Mesmerized by the heat in his gaze. “A while ago, I bought myself a flogger at an adult store.”

  “Have you used it?”

  “You might have guessed I haven’t had the opportunity.”

  “What other toys do you have?”

  Were they really having this conversation? “I have a pair of nipple clamps, but I’ve never actually been brave enough to use them.”

  “So you want to be flogged, maybe with nipple clamps on.”

  She nodded.

  “What gets you off when you’re masturbating?”

  He saw her, deeper than anyone else had looked. The knowledge made her dizzy. Suddenly, she was unable to find her voice.

  “You’re doing fine,” he said.

  His reassurance combined with his matter-of-fact tone made this easier than she might have imagined. “I envision myself tied up,” she confessed. “Helpless. Clamped. Blindfolded.” Writhing. Desperate. In her mind, the more intense the bondage, the harder her orgasm. She wondered if that would be true in real life.

  “And then what?”

  Her smile died before fully forming. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  Was she really going to admit this? “I’m flogged. Hard. No matter how much I beg, it goes on and on. I’m…” She swallowed then breathed in. “It’s just a fantasy. I know it can’t really happen. I’m not sure I really want it.” But part of her did.

  “You’ll always have a safe word. What I’m hearing is that you want to b
e pushed.”

  She nodded.

  “You’re hoping, deep inside, that I’m going to take away your choices and tie you to the St. Andrew’s cross,” he went on. “You want to be vulnerable, to pull against the bonds while knowing you can’t get out of them. You want to know the sensation of surrender as the structure supports your entire weight while you’re naked, waiting.”

  Jennifer’s legs wobbled. Suddenly she was grateful for his tight, reassuring grip.

  “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?”

  “My God…”

  “I can make that happen. We can make that happen. It’s just the two of us. We have all night. We won’t be interrupted. No one will be watching you. It’s just you and me and your deepest desires.” He released her wrist. “But you’ll have to ask me for it.”

  He was offering to fulfill her erotic fantasies. Yes. Yes. That was exactly what she wanted. She only wished he wasn’t so overwhelming.

  “Oh, and, Jennifer? One more thing. You’ll do it from your knees.”

  Her breath strangled her.

  He stood so close she inhaled his scent, that of musk and determination. Heavens above, she wanted this.

  “What will it be? A night spent in exploration? Or shall we put away the food and head back to the city before it gets any later?”

  Chapter Three

  With patience learned during long days and nights of wartime waiting—brutal monotony shattered by occasional life-or-death rushes of adrenaline—Logan waited for Jennifer’s answer. He liked the way she’d blushed earlier, and now he enjoyed looking at the little furrow between her eyebrows. He guessed she’d be mortified if she had any idea how expressive her face was, the way all her emotions were so clearly readable. He knew her answer, realized she was waging an internal battle with her own desires. Just as surely, he intended to wait until she was honest with herself.

  Within ten seconds, less time than he’d expected, she said, “I’d like to explore.”

  The words pleased him more than he had anticipated. “Tell me your safe word. Do you want to use red?”

  She shook her head. “Marshmallow.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I don’t like them.” She wrinkled her nose in a way that showed her extreme displeasure. “It’s the texture, especially when they get warm.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “You’ll remember that?”

  “I will.”

  “And a word to let me know you want to slow down?”

  “Can we use yellow for that?”

  “Absolutely. Did you bring your flogger with you?”

  She took her time, and he realized she was a woman he couldn’t rush. That would make dominating her all the more rewarding.

  “I… Yes. It’s in my bag,” she said.

  Obviously she’d made the same guess he had, that any gathering at the Montroses’ mountain home would end up kinky.

  “Fetch it for me.”

  After nodding, she walked to the foyer, unzipped her bag, then dug to the bottom of it.

  The sight of the red leather flogger in her hand impressed him. It had long, thick strands. Even from across the room, he could tell it wasn’t a twenty-dollar novelty. No doubt it had cost ten times that amount, and that told him just how serious she was about this evening. “Did you bring the nipple clamps?”

  She didn’t look over at him as she answered, “No.” When she was walking back toward him, her steps faltered as if she was unsure what to do.

  “Hold on to it until we get downstairs,” he instructed. “I want you to formally offer it to me when you’re on your knees asking me to flog you.”

  The hint of red staining her cheeks deepened.

  He paused to lock the front door before retrieving his bag.

  At the top of the stairs, he turned on the lights, then indicated she should precede him. He was man enough to appreciate the sway of her hips as she moved.

  He made a mental reminder to send Joe and Noelle a thank-you note. Maybe a case of wine.

  “Go and stand near the St. Andrew’s cross,” he instructed when they were in the well-equipped play area. After Joe had bought the house, he’d had most of the basement walls taken out. That left a large space for the custom-built equipment and allowed him to rearrange things for each event.

  Jennifer stopped where Logan had said, then turned to face him. She clenched the flogger so hard her knuckles turned white.

  “Take a deep breath,” he instructed. “Relax a little.”

  “Would you, if you knew someone was going to hit you?”

  “Put that way, no.” He smiled. “But if I knew someone was going to spend the rest of the evening taking me to heights I’d never imagined, I might.”

  “That might be even more nerve-racking,” she admitted.

  He continued past her to put his bag on a bench near the wall, intentionally giving her some space.

  Even though his back was to her, Logan heard the scrape of her boots on the hardwood floor, making him aware she had turned toward him.

  He began to lay out his equipment—cuffs, blindfold and nipple clamps with a chain running between them. Since she had her own flogger, he left his in the bag along with a tawse and paddle. “Nothing will happen that you don’t want,” he reassured her when he faced her. “I promise you, you will ask for it.”

  She trembled.

  “Would you like to see what I have?” He extended his hand in invitation.

  She hesitated but then came up alongside him.

  “Does anything here scare you?” he asked.

  “Those clamps don’t look like the ones I own.”

  “What kind do you have?”

  “Alligators.” She frowned. “But these are the kind that don’t come off easily, aren’t they?”

  “Japanese clovers, and yes. They tighten if you pull on them. But it can be interesting to try to beat them off.”

  She froze, obviously not knowing whether he was serious.

  He wasn’t. He might try with the tamer alligator clamps, but not these. “Would you like to skip them?”

  For a moment she was silent. “Actually, I wasn’t planning to get naked.”

  At the majority of the play parties that he attended, most women kept on at least a bra and panties. Doms who preferred their subs bare-chested often adorned nipples with pasties or covered them with electrical tape. “Tell me what you want to have happen. But I’ll remind you that it didn’t work for you when Master Simon allowed you to keep your clothes on.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “I guess I want all the excitement and none of the risk,” she acknowledged.

  He inclined his head.

  “That sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

  “Not at all.” He’d seen that in all areas of life, from his time in the army and his time as a civilian contractor in the Middle East and now as a PI. Lots of people had bravado. Most of it retreated when the threat became real. “Let me tell you what I want.” He waited until she nodded before going on. “I want to give you the flogging you want, one that’s so damn good you forget your name. And bonus if you scream mine when you come. Yes, you’ll have risk. Yes, it will be scary. Yes, it will be worth it.”

  “I…” She paused, her mouth open. “Logan… I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Master Logan,” he corrected. “Master, if you’re only using one word. Sir, at the very least.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “It’s a boundary during a scene, helps separate the civilized world from mine.”

  She shuddered. “Are you calling yours uncivilized?”

  “No,” he hedged. “I call mine real. Say it.”

  “Ah…” She wrapped her arms across her chest, and the flogger’s leather strands dangled in midair. “Master Logan.”

  Fuck. The sound of her voice, so compliant, made him ache.

  With great effort, he concentrated on finishing their conversation. “I will be touching you, kissing you…” Cr
eating an air of intimacy so complete that she’d be engulfed by it, secure forever. “We won’t be having sex, at least until the scene is over. I have no expectations, so it will happen only if you want it, and then we’ll use condoms.”

  She nodded.

  “I’d prefer it if you’d take your clothes off, but I’ll be satisfied if you strip down to your undergarments. So what will it be?” He waited. Even if it hadn’t been on a conscious level, they both knew she’d thought about sceneing tonight. The fact that she’d brought a bag proved it. The obvious problem for her was that he wasn’t as easy to sway as Master Simon.

  “I want to keep on my bra and underwear.”

  He nodded. “You can put your clothes on this bench.”

  Fully anticipating her obedience, he went to the sound system and selected a mix that Joe had cued up. The choices ran the gamut from soft rock to inviting jazz, some Nine Inch Nails with occasional Gregorian chants threaded in.

  The preset volume was too loud for Logan’s tastes. He wanted to hear all her sounds, no matter how quiet they were. And he wanted to hear the strike of leather on skin.

  After lowering the volume, he turned to watch her.

  She’d placed the flogger next to his equipment. Everything was in a very orderly line, which he liked. She’d removed her boots and tights, and she was struggling with the skirt zipper.

  “May I?” he asked.

  After she nodded, he brushed aside her fingers and finished the task. Then he stepped back to watch her finish undressing.

  Her choice of underwear enchanted him. The panties were red, which was a pleasant surprise. And they were mesh, making them see-through. That was an even better surprise.

  Thin black ribbon was threaded through the waistband. The panties were cut high, giving him a nice view of her curves.

  Then she faced him.

  The front barely covered her pubis.

  Logan’s pulse accelerated.

  As he silently watched, she caught the bottom of her turtleneck and pulled it up and off.

  Her bra matched her panties. The material was gauzy, and the cups were defined by the same black ribbon. Tiny bows were set on each strap, an innocent tease to counter the seductive appeal. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, Jennifer.”

  For a moment, their gazes met. Then she seemed to force herself to look away. As she placed her turtleneck on the counter, her hand trembled.