Shockwave (Impulse Book 1) Read online

  Near the check-in podium, Master Braxton nodded in her direction. Willow lifted her hand in greeting and flashed a quick smile of solidarity.

  Alani shuddered as if she were navigating a gauntlet…a true walk of shame. Everyone knew about her failure with Master Richard and the fact she was being sent home on a Friday evening. She had never been more miserable.

  “I took the liberty of having your car brought around,” Jaron said, holding open the front door.

  Some of the employees kept an extra key at the front desk. When it snowed, the security team scraped the windows and made sure the car was started at the end of the shift. Just another way the owners made sure it was a good place to work. “Thank you.”

  She escaped from the building and into her vehicle. The driver’s seat upholstery abraded the welts behind her knees.

  Despite the fact it was springtime in the Rockies, the early evening temperature was cool, and she was grateful that Jaron had already started the car and heated the interior for her.

  In the rearview mirror, she watched Limits fade away. She couldn’t feel worse if she had been fired.

  * * * *

  “Anything else, sir?” Jaron asked, approaching Nathaniel near the club’s front entrance.

  Nathaniel shook his head. “That’s it. Thanks.”

  Jaron went back inside the brick building.

  Nathaniel continued to stand where he was, despite the fact that Alani’s taillights had already blended in with the heavy Lower Downtown traffic. Since it was after seven on a Friday, everyone was heading home after a long workweek. People from the suburbs hadn’t started arriving at Limits yet, and it would be another couple of hours before the club was really happening.

  He told himself he was enjoying the sight of the Rocky Mountains in the distance and that he wasn’t thinking about Alani. But that was a lie.

  Nathaniel Stratton, a skilled combatant who’d braved some of the harshest conditions on the planet, was unsettled.

  He’d survived sandstorms and a hail of bullets without losing his focus, and yet a young woman, so petite the top of her head barely reached the middle of his chest, left him second-guessing himself. It was a new feeling, and a goddamn uncomfortable one at that.

  “Buy you a drink?” Braxton offered, joining him outside.

  “You’ll never go on vacation if I handle all the club problems like this.”

  “Managing the employees is the most difficult part of running any business.” Braxton clapped him on the shoulder.

  Nathaniel had checked the reservation list and knew they were expecting a big turnout for the evening. It wasn’t the best time for them to have given Alani the night off. “Do you ever wonder if you’ve made the right decision?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Rarely. By the time a situation reaches me, I need to do something about it. I don’t terminate employment without cause, and I’m slow to hire, fast to fire if I see reason for concern. With longtime employees, it’s not unusual to work with the situation, clarify expectations. Sometimes a long talk helps.”

  He didn’t know whether the words were reassuring or not.

  They moved inside to the all-but-empty bar. Since no one was allowed to drink prior to scening, the area didn’t get busy until much later in the evening. They pulled up two stools at the far end, where no one would bother them.

  Braxton went for a light beer. “Watching my physique.”

  More likely it was because he was working tonight, and the man was all about restraint.

  Nathaniel ordered a whiskey, straight. It was a fine bourbon, but he didn’t sip it like he should. Instead, he swallowed in a single gulp.

  “Tell me what happened after you kicked me out of my office.”

  Nathaniel didn’t know where to begin. He’d been intent on doing what was best for the club, offering to retrain her. But when he’d seen her responsiveness, the hunger in her wide, brown eyes, he’d wanted to please her, wanted to give her what she craved but couldn’t get anywhere else. How big a fool was he?

  Alani was an employee, not his submissive. He’d never wanted a full-time sub, and he sure as hell didn’t even need to play with someone like Alani. But damn, his cock was still fucking hard. “She’s complicated.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  Nathaniel rolled the empty glass between his palms.

  “I used my belt on her.”

  “You—”

  “After she was off the clock,” Nathaniel said, recalling the sight of the red-striped X on her exposed buttocks. “But, yeah. I did.”

  “That wasn’t what I was hoping would happen when I told you not to do anything stupid.”

  “There’s a reason you’re in charge and I’m not.”

  “Despite the fact this is a BDSM club, we haven’t found that beating our employees improves morale.”

  There was no doubt his actions had been unorthodox. And it had been a first for him. “Punishing her physically won’t change her behavior,” Nathaniel said. “The worst thing for Alani is not being here.”

  Always the pragmatist, Braxton shrugged.

  “If it helps, I did have her sign the verbal warning before she left.”

  “Well then. That makes everything perfect.” Braxton lifted his drink in a mock salute.

  Nathaniel considered ordering another whiskey. But that wasn’t an effective way to deal with events. “I’m not sure what to do about her retraining.”

  AJ joined them at the bar. “Willow said you sent Alani home.”

  “We were just discussing that,” Braxton said. He shot a pointed look at Nathaniel. “And he made sure she won’t be sitting comfortably for a while.”

  AJ whistled. “Sounds serious.”

  Nathaniel and Braxton moved to accommodate the stool he dragged over.

  The bartender slid a soda water with a lime attached to the rim down the length of the polished wood without spilling a drop.

  “I thought you didn’t play with our subbies.” AJ squirted the lime into the glass.

  “I don’t. And I’m not sure it was a good idea this time,” Nathaniel admitted.

  “He’s feeling guilty,” Braxton said. “But he shouldn’t. Alani told me she wanted more. There’s no policy against employees and owners being involved. Karyn sometimes serves as a monitor on theme nights, and she’ll fill in if someone is sick. It can work. I just want to be sure it’s consensual.”

  AJ shrugged. “If Alani’s playing with you, she obviously has terrible taste in men.”

  There was nothing like being among friends. AJ trusted no one. Nathaniel had been born a pessimist. He rarely thought anything would work out well, whether in war or in his personal life. Over the years, the three men had annoyed the hell out of one another. It was amazing their friendship had survived since college.

  Braxton took another drink of his beer. A few more people with wristbands that indicated they were not planning to scene drifted toward the bar. Friday night was picking up.

  “You sticking around?” Braxton asked.

  “Haven’t I caused enough damage?”

  Willow walked over. “Sorry to interrupt. There are a couple of people who want a guest pass, but I don’t recognize the name of their sponsor.”

  “Duty calls.” Braxton pushed away his half-finished beer.

  AJ grabbed his glass. “Give me a chance to beat our employees before sending them home next time.” He wandered over to another table to say hello.

  Braxton clapped Nathaniel on the shoulder. “You did okay.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, while he was exercising in his home office’s small workout space, the phone rang. Since the caller identification showed Braxton’s name, Nathaniel didn’t interrupt his workout as he answered.

  Without any pleasantries, Braxton asked, “You sure you don’t need me to cancel my trip?”

  Nathaniel held his cell phone with his left hand and continued to do curls with his right. “You think I need a babysi
tter?”

  “Well…” Braxton allowed his thought to hang.

  “Comedian.”

  “AJ will act as your backup, but…”

  Nathaniel shrugged. “He’s better with a computer than people.”

  “I was supposed to do a presentation tonight, eight o’clock in classroom one. But since Karyn and I will be gone, I asked AJ to fill in. Alani is a natural choice to be his partner.”

  No fucking way.

  As if not caring that he’d turned Nathaniel’s insides into a knot, Braxton went on, “If she doesn’t show up, ask Willow for a recommendation.”

  “To be clear, AJ won’t be scening with Alani.”

  “Forcing her to focus on her Dom would be a great place to start her retraining.”

  That much, they agreed on. “I’ll be the one providing Alani’s retraining.”

  Wisely saving himself from an argument, Braxton acquiesced. “Understood. I’ll have my cell phone if you need anything.”

  “Have fun with your woman. I’ll try to keep the place open while you’re gone. How difficult can it be?”

  Airport announcements drowned out his partner’s next few words. But the end of the sentence was clear. “Call me before you make any other stupid decisions.”

  “We have a bad connection.” Nathaniel hung up then dropped his phone on the weight bench.

  He finished his weight training before changing into a dry shirt and heading out for a five-mile run.

  Since Alani had left the club yesterday evening, he’d spent a hell of a lot of time—too much—thinking about her.

  He’d instructed her to call by noon, and it wasn’t quite eight. Plenty of time.

  Outside, he set an easy pace, appreciating the cool, dry morning.

  Unwanted thoughts of Alani assailed him, and he brushed them aside. It required constant vigilance to keep her, her responses and the memories of her screams and sexy taste at a distance.

  His plan didn’t work as well as he’d hoped. By the time he returned to his rented home near the base of Green Mountain, he was winded but he hadn’t made a damn decision on how to retrain her.

  Since it was still too early to go to work at the club, he headed for the closet in his master bedroom, opened the safe and removed his pistol. After double then triple-checking that everything, including ammo, was in order, he locked his weapon into a case then stowed it in the trunk of his vehicle before heading to the nearby shooting range.

  Once there, he checked in and entered the military-style simulator to keep his skills sharp and push away extraneous thoughts.

  The interactive, realistic situation was as close to meditation as he’d ever found.

  When his time was up, he drove home, locked up the gun then hit the shower.

  Under the hot spray, he allowed his thoughts to turn to Alani. Not that they’d ever been far away. Women didn’t perplex him. Or they hadn’t, until last night.

  His scene with Alani had been powerful.

  Being deliberate, watching her reactions, demanding her orgasm, even holding her afterward had fulfilled something inside him.

  And for the first time, he was left wanting more.

  She’d been honest in her reactions, and he wondered how much deeper it could go. He wanted to provide the satisfaction she craved, and he’d had a hard-on since she’d begged him to fuck her. He’d wanted to, but spanking her had crossed a few of his boundaries. Having sex with her would have demolished them.

  Common sense shouted at him to turn Alani over to AJ or one of the club’s professional Doms for retraining, but Nathaniel couldn’t. AJ’s attention would wander. And Nathaniel hadn’t vetted the other Dominants. Then he faced an uncomfortable truth. Now that his belt had been on her skin and his mouth had been on her pussy, he had no intention of letting anyone else near her.

  She was his.

  The rational part of his mind recognized that she had some say in the matter. An uncivilized part of him wanted to give her no choice.

  Alani was stuck with him.

  Now he needed to decide what the hell to do about it.

  If Braxton was in the country and could manage the situation, Nathaniel would just pursue her with single-minded intent.

  As it was, he had to balance his inner caveman with being a businessman. Before today, he’d have said that combat was the most difficult thing he’d faced.

  Nathaniel checked his phone. There were still no messages from her, despite his request that she contact him. She still had ten minutes, but he was out of patience. He wanted to know if she intended to show up for work tonight. If not, he needed to have Willow see about shuffling the schedule.

  Even as he scrolled to Alani’s contact information, he recognized he was lying to himself. He wanted to hear her voice.

  She answered on the fourth ring, just as he was wondering if she intended to send him to voice mail. “Aloha.”

  Her hello was pleasant, unhurried. If she was nervous, her tone didn’t betray it.

  Nathaniel remembered the way she had sounded last night, breathless as she’d begged for his belt. He tightened his left hand into a fist. “Have you made a decision?”

  “I’m fine, thank you, Master Nathaniel. How are you?”

  He bit back a curse. “I’m well.” He paused. “Have you made a decision?”

  “If I had, I would have called you.”

  He scowled. “We need to talk.”

  “What about?”

  He paused, wondering if the road ahead was fraught with landmines. Though it was tempting to plow ahead, he took a figurative step back. “You tell me.”

  “How about the way you sent me away last night?”

  His head snapped back. No words could have shocked him more.

  “After you refused to fuck me?” she added, in case he’d forgotten.

  “That’s not…” He shook his head. “We should talk in private.”

  “This is private.”

  Obstinate brat. “In person. I want to see your expressions.”

  “Beat me without sex again, perhaps?”

  “Meet me half an hour before your shift starts.”

  “If you were listening, which is part of talking, Sir, you might have heard me say that I haven’t made up my mind whether or not I’m coming in.” Beneath her words, a river of hurt ran deep.

  He’d rather navigate a field of landmines than deal with an angry Alani. “Would you prefer to meet somewhere ahead of time?”

  “There’s a coffee shop on Garrison, near Alameda. Not far from that big church.”

  From casual conversation over the years, they knew their homes were in neighboring cities. He glanced at the wall clock. “Half an hour?”

  She paused for several seconds before answering. “You’re buying.”

  “Of course I am.” He should have guessed.

  Since he’d arrived before her, he’d chosen an outdoor table so he could see the parking lot.

  When she slipped from her car, attraction socked him in the solar plexus.

  He’d seen her in business casual wear for meetings—she opted for slacks and blouses. During work hours, he expected her club attire, but this…? She wore workout gear, tight stretch capris, a fitted halter top, ankle socks and blinding hot-pink tennis shoes with neon-green laces. She’d pulled her hair into a tantalizing ponytail.

  Everything about her appealed to him. It wasn’t just a Dom and sub thing for him. It was man and woman.

  She reached back into the car for a zip-up jacket, and when she faced him, her lips were pressed together.

  “Alani.”

  He’d have given almost anything for one of her smiles, but she didn’t even return the greeting. He opened the door to the coffee shop. “Shall we?” Nathaniel was tempted to touch her as she walked by, but her rigid posture established clear boundaries.

  He was catching a glimpse of how badly he’d fucked up. Maybe Braxton’s warning about not screwing things up had been on point.

  N
athaniel followed her inside and the scent of fresh-roasted coffee washed through his senses. If the taste matched the scent, he’d be stopping here on occasion.

  The cashier greeted Alani, and she waved and called out, “Aloha” in return.

  Meeting here had been a strategic call on her part. This was her turf. She was among friends.

  He followed her to the counter where she ordered a large vanilla cappuccino and a chocolate croissant. Enough sugar in that to keep him buzzing for a week.

  “And he’s paying,” Alani said, hooking her thumb over her shoulder.

  The cashier shot him a surprised glance.

  “And he’s a great tipper. Aren’t you, Nathaniel?”

  “So I’m told.” When Alani took a step to her left, he ordered a large Americano.

  “Room for cream?”

  “Straight up.” With Alani, he needed his wits about him.

  “Want me to warm up the croissant?”

  Alani nodded.

  When their order was ready, Alani suggested they sit outside. “We’re less likely to be overheard. And the weather is gorgeous.”

  No wind and the temperature was in the low seventies. Not bad for spring. He nodded.

  She swiped a handful of napkins from a dispenser then followed him outside. He moved one of the metal tables into a patch of sunshine before holding a chair for her.

  “Perfect. Thank you.”

  He anticipated she might use a fork for the pastry, but she picked it up, bit off the end then licked the chocolate. He shifted. Meeting her here might have been a catastrophically bad idea.

  Nathaniel took a sip of the excellent brew and waited, Braxton’s warning getting louder in his ears. “Tell me about your thought process.”

  “Tell me about yours.”

  “You’re the sub.”

  “I’m no man’s sub. And for sure I am not your sub.”

  He winced. “I owe you an apology for last night. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “What part?”

  Damn. “Show me some mercy, Alani.”

  Her eyes widened, but then, as if she’d revealed something she didn’t want to—compassion, maybe?—she looked down at the small puddle of chocolate on her plate.