Leather & Lace: Trident Security Book 1 (7 page)

"Quiet."

He never looked up as he issued the deep-voiced command and it sent a shiver through her body. She began to look around, trying to figure out how to get out of the restraints. She should be scared out of her wits but, for some reason, she wasn't. Instead she was turned on and it freaked her out a little...well, actually, a lot. Yes, she had fantasized about this stuff and she wrote about it but it didn't appeal to her in real life, did it? Apparently it did, because during her entire marriage, she had never once been this aroused and Devon had only touched her wrists. What would happen if he touched her in other places? Did she want him to? Her body screamed at her–hell, yeah!

She looked back at him and realized he was now reading the papers Mitch had given her. Shit! While Mitch was talking on his phone, she skimmed through the soft and hard limit checklist. She didn't fill out the entire form but had checked off what she considered to be hard limits for her. Everything else she skipped over, planning to go through the list again later to figure out what she thought she would like and what she wasn't sure about. "Hey, stop! That's private!"

Devon rolled his eyes and sighed then got up from his seat. Without looking at her, he strode over to open a cabinet she hadn't noticed, which was built into the wall a few feet away from her. He grabbed something and then shut the door again before walking back to his seat. Pivoting to face her he held up an object. "Do you know what this is, Pet?"

She had a feeling she did, but she bit her bottom lip and shook her head.

"It's a ball gag. Usually I only give an order once and expect it to be obeyed, but since this is new to you, here is your second and final warning. Stay quiet unless I ask you a question. Your only answers should be 'yes, Sir' or 'no, Sir' unless I ask you for a detailed answer. Anything else out of your mouth will result in me using the ball gag. Understood?"

As her girlie parts began to throb, Kristen nodded her head and he frowned at her. "Y-yes, Sir."

"Do you wish to use your safe-word? If you do, I'll let you loose and escort you out...without your research, of course."

What?! Crap, he was serious. "No, Sir."

Devon placed the gag on the table where she was sure to see it every time she looked at him. He was pleased to see a shudder run through her body and a nervous but heated look in her eyes. He loved to play the psychological games involved in BDSM and, damn it, he wanted to play the physical games with her, too, but now was not the time. Instead he sat back down and looked over her checklist again. Having seen hundreds of them in the past, it didn't take long for him to read her partial list, but he pretended to take his time.

He waited...and waited. And yes, there it was. She began to squirm, her hips and feet moving ever so slightly, but enough for him to notice. She rubbed her thighs together and he knew without a doubt her pussy was wet.

"I'm pleased to see most of your hard limits are similar to mine, but I'd love to see where you place the activities you haven't checked off yet. But I'm curious about why nipple clamps are a hard limit for you? I don't think I've ever seen that on a submissives hard limit list before."

Kristen swallowed hard. She wasn't going to tell him the real reason, which was too embarrassing. Instead she answered, "My nipples are too sensitive, Sir. The thought of clamps freaks me out."

He looked at her as if confused. "Out of all the hard limits you checked off, if you had to move one to a soft limit, which one would you choose?"

She thought for a moment before answering, trying to remember what she checked off as her hard limits. "The bullwhip, Sir."

"You would choose a whip over nipple clamps?" He knew he sounded as surprised as he felt.

"Yes, Sir."

Devon stood again and stalked toward her. "I think there's something more to it than just sensitive nipples but I'll leave it alone for now. Have you ever been tied up or spanked before?"

"No!"

"But the thought of doing those things turns you on." He stopped in front of her. His words hadn't come out as a question but he appeared to be waiting for an answer.

She opened her mouth to deny it but slammed it shut again when his eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me, Pet." She was wise enough to remain silent and he stared at her for a minute before speaking again. "I think I'm going to change our plans for this evening."

Her stomach dropped. "You're cancelling our date?"

Taking the index finger of his right hand, he reached up and set it on her left forearm. His touch was light as he trailed his finger down her arm toward her elbow, then further, touching her ear and neck. His eyes tracked the movement. From her collarbone, he followed the scoop-neck edge of her shirt, down to her chest over the swells of her breasts and back up to her right ear. Her breathing increased and her nipples had a mind of their own, pebbling into hard little nubs, begging for him to touch them.

"Oh no, Pet, not at all. I'm just going to add to it. We'll still go to dinner." He paused and her tongue shot out to moisten her dry lips. Heat flared in his eyes in response. "Mmmm. But afterwards, we'll come here and I'll give you the full tour as my guest. Since Marco ran a security check on you, it won't be any problem. I do have a few requirements though, since our plans have changed. I want you to wear the sexiest dress or skirt you own and no underwear. And I mean no panties
or
bra, Pet. You will go to dinner like that. If you disobey me on this, I'll take you into the women's restroom and remove them myself. Understood?"

Kristen was salivating, her panties were soaked. Was it possible to cum, while she was fully dressed, from a feather-light touch and his words alone? Her voice came out raspy. "Y-yes, Sir."

"And wear your hair down." He gave her pony tail a gentle tug. "I want you to read and understand the club protocols. You'll be expected to follow them, although I'll give you some leeway since this is new to you. If you have any questions, you may ask them at dinner. Last but not least, I want you to finish filling out your limit list."

Her eyes widened because he couldn't be serious. "But I thought guests weren't allowed to play without a physical and...and stuff." At his raised eyebrow, she added, "Sir."

His finger retraced its earlier path, down her neck, across her breasts and then back up again. "Correct. But by having you complete the list, I know what scenes I should let you observe. Now, before I let you go home to get ready for our...date, do you have any questions?"

She had more than she could count in the next hour or so, however she found herself saying, "No, Sir."

"Do you want to cancel our date?"

Did she? Absolutely not! "No, Sir."

"Good." He reached up and removed the restraints from her wrists. "I'll walk you to your car."

"Try this one on. I think it will be perfect."

Kayla London took the little black dress from Kristen's closet and handed it to her as Will reclined on her bed, propped up on a few pillows. On the way home from the club, Kristen had called him in a semi-panic. He, in turn, had called Kayla. The woman was one of Will's closest friends and Kristen had clicked with her the first time they'd met. Will introduced the two of them a few months earlier when Kristen had traveled to Tampa to find an apartment before moving. Kayla and her wife, Roxy, had become her fast friends and although they teased her about it, they never tried to hook her up with one of their female friends.

After Kristen explained about her dinner date and where they were going after, the fashion forward duo had come running to her rescue. She had no idea what to wear. It had to be something appropriate for dinner and hide the fact she was not allowed to wear underwear, yet sexy enough for the club.

She was so nervous. Her stomach still had butterflies fluttering around which started the moment she realized Devon had shackled her wrists. He'd worn such a wicked grin as he watched her struggle with the restraints for a few moments before giving up. She had a feeling if she had panicked, he would have released her without question, but she surprised herself by only asking him to let her go one time. Then she'd become so focused on him and the tingling throughout her body, she'd pretty much forgotten she was being held hostage.

While he read through her notes, she studied him a little more. When she first met him, she'd thought he was walking perfection, but today, she noticed his nose was a tad crooked as if it had been broken at one time. He also had a faint two-inch scar along his jawline, a little bit below his right ear and she wondered what had caused it. Those small imperfections only enhanced his good looks and made him seem even sexier, if it was at all possible.

As she walked into the bathroom and shut the door to change for the third time, Kayla told her, "I'm so jealous you're going to The Covenant tonight. Roxy and I put in a membership application six months ago and from what I understand the waiting list to get in is almost a year, unless a Dom sponsors you and even then it takes a while."

Kristen pulled the cotton-spandex dress over her head and dragged it down her body, smoothing the fabric as she went. "I didn't know you two were...in the lifestyle."

"We don't advertise because most people don't understand BDSM and tend to be negative about it. Roxy got me into it when we first met years ago. She became a Domme in college but didn't have much time to play when she hit med school. At the moment, we belong to another private club called Heat, but don't go as much as we would like. We would prefer the guarded privacy and exclusiveness The Covenant is known for. Some parents of Roxy's kids would flip if they found out she likes to flog my ass."

Kayla was a social worker and Dr. Roxanne London had a thriving pediatric practice. They were also the complete opposites of each other. Where Kayla was five-foot-two, a 'size twelve on a good day and a fourteen on a bad one,' her words, and a blue-eyed blonde, Roxy was seven inches taller and a size six, with auburn hair and hazel eyes. Kayla was disorganized and loved sci-fi movies, while Roxy was a neat freak who went to at least one indie or foreign film a month, either alone or with a friend because her wife had a tendency to fall asleep during them. But despite their differences or maybe it was due to them, the two made the perfect couple.

"I can see why you would want to keep it private." She zippered the side of the dress and looked at her reflection from the waist up in the mirror above the sink. Not bad.

"Most members of the BDSM community do. If we run into other members in public outside of the club, we either act like we know them from someplace else or don't know them at all."

Kristen opened the door and stepped out for them to see. She'd only worn the dress once before, to a gala on New Year's Eve after she first got married. Her ex hadn't liked the revealing one-shoulder design, complaining she had too many men staring at her. But she loved how the ruching at the waist gave her size twelve body an hour glass figure. The hem stopped mid-thigh and she tugged it down a little, trying to hide the fact she had no underwear on.

"Bow-chicka-wow-wow." Leave it to Will to say something to make her laugh and forget how nervous she was.

Kayla whistled. "Damn girl, I'm going to have to borrow that someday. You look hot."

Kristen looked at her reflection in the mirror attached to her closet door turning from side to side to see the dress from all possible angles. She may never be skinny by today's standards but some of Will's friends had told her, with her generous curves, give her a blond wig and she would've given Marilyn Monroe some serious competition. "You sure I look okay? It's not too slutty looking?"

"Slutty? No. High class call-girl? Yes. And it's the way you want to look, trust me on this. Now let's see what we can do with your hair and makeup. Will, can you find her a pair of shoes to wear?" Kayla led her back into the bathroom and Kristen tried to imagine Devon's reaction when he saw her. Would he like her dress or would he complain about it like her ex-husband had? She prayed it was the former.

* * *

Devon looked at his watch for the fourth time in under two minutes as he paced back and forth in front of Tuscany, the restaurant they were meeting at. She was ten minutes late. He wanted to pick her up at her home but decided not to suggest it, figuring she would be more comfortable this way given the fact he was still a relative stranger to her. A fact he intended to rectify as soon as possible.

As much as he wanted to use her lateness as an excuse to spank her delicious backside, he was more worried she'd changed her mind and chickened out. He'd been shocked when he first saw her standing in the pit, however, the shock had morphed into anger and jealousy at the fact she was in his club with Mitch and not him. The two of them hadn't been doing anything other than talking but, damn it, he wanted to be the one to introduce her to BDSM...especially since he now knew she was researching the lifestyle he loved.

Behind him, he heard the sound of heels running down the sidewalk. Turning, he froze as Kristen hurried toward him. She was beautiful. Her brown hair fell around her face in soft curls and he longed to run his fingers through them. Her styled hair and the subtle makeup that lit up her face made him realize she put in an extra effort while preparing for their date and the thought made his heart race. He watched as she approached him and he managed to get a peek of her black dress under the lightweight rain coat she wore. Although the temperature was cooler than normal for a late September evening, it wasn't cold or rainy out and he assumed the coat was for modesty. He hoped it meant her dress was a little out of her comfort zone.

"Sorry I'm late." She tried to catch her breath. "I couldn't find my car keys and then I couldn't find a parking spot." Unlike Donovan's, Tuscany didn't have a parking lot and customers had to find on-street parking.

"It's alright, Pet. I'll just take it out on your backside later."

Kristen gaped at him. "You want to spank me because I'm ten minutes late?"

"Yup." He looked at his watch. "And you're thirteen minutes late, so I think that calls for thirteen smacks. It's a decent amount for your first spanking."

Not giving her a chance to respond, he took her arm and escorted her into the restaurant. While they waited for the hostess, he helped her out of her coat and tried to keep from swallowing his tongue. Damn. When he told her to wear the sexiest dress she had, he didn't expect her to have one which made her look like a seductive siren. Between the dress, her mile long legs and those three-inch black stilettos, the woman was going to give him a heart attack. He was going to have to fuck her in nothing but those heels sometime real soon.

He folded her coat over his arm, using it to hide the swelling in his pants, and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You look gorgeous, Pet. I wish I could bend you over a table and fuck you right here in front of everyone. But since I can't, tell me, did you obey my orders? Did you leave your underwear at home? Because if you didn't, we're heading straight to the ladies room and I don't care who sees us."

A pink blush rose to her cheeks and she almost wished she'd disobeyed him because she could feel a rush of arousal coating her pussy. If he kept talking to her like that, it would be dripping down her legs soon.

"Yes." She whispered the word, afraid someone would overhear her and know how turned on she was.

"Prove it."

She gasped and her cheeks were now beet red. They were in the front of a crowded restaurant and he wanted her to prove she wasn't wearing any underwear. How the heck was she supposed to do it without getting arrested for indecent exposure?

"H-how?"

He must have read her mind because he chuckled. "Not the way you're thinking, Pet. Turn around, nice and slow, and let me feel if you have any panty lines."

He put his hand on her hip and she made a complete turn, his hand staying in contact with her body the entire rotation, across both hips, the top of her buttocks and across her lower abdomen. When she was once again facing him, she glanced around and was relieved no one appeared to be paying them any attention.

"Very good, Pet. You saved yourself from additional punishment, although I'm sure I'll find something else which will add to the count before the night is over."

She was grateful to have his teasing interrupted when the hostess chose that moment to approach them and Devon gave his name which the reservations were under. It gave Kristen a chance to get her heated body back under control and inspect her date. He was wearing dark grey dress slacks, black loafers and a white button down shirt with the sleeves folded up to the middle of his forearms. His shirt wasn't tight but it was the perfect cut to showcase his physique. He wore no jewelry other than a black dive watch on his left wrist. The look was simple, yet classic and he could have graced this month's cover of
GQ
magazine and had millions of women drooling over him. And those thoughts gave her pause. The man could be dating a supermodel if he wanted, so what was he doing here with her? She glanced around and noticed, now that he was facing the other patrons, several women gawking at him in obvious interest.

She tamped her jealousy down and when the hostess told them to follow her, Devon motioned for Kristen to walk in front of him. The whole way across the restaurant she got the feeling he was ogling her ass as they made their way to a table against the far wall. The thought made her smile and she put a little more sway in her hips. She could have sworn she heard a low growl and giggled to herself.

When they reached their table, she was surprised he pulled out a chair for her to sit on before taking his own seat across from her. The gesture made her feel like a lady. She couldn't remember Tom ever holding out her chair for her. She watched as Devon draped her coat over the back of the empty chair next to him before the hostess handed them their menus and excused herself. Although there were only two place settings at the table, it could seat four people, which Kristen was happy about. She hated tables for two because there was never enough room and she always found herself knocking over a glass of wine or water. The last thing she wanted tonight was to look like a klutz.

A smartly dressed waiter approached their table and filled their water glasses. "Good evening, my name is Kevin and I'll be your waiter. Can I get you anything from the bar while you look over your menus?"

Devon looked at Kristen and arched his brow in question. "Would you like a glass of wine or something else?"

"White wine, please–a Riesling if they have it."

He nodded then turned back to the young man who stood waiting. "A Riesling for the lady and I'll have tonic water with lime. Thank you."

"You're not having any alcohol?" she asked, after the waiter left to get their order.

"No, I don't drink."

"Ever?" She knew it sounded like it was the weirdest thing she ever heard but she didn't know any men who didn't at least have the occasional beer or two.

"No."

The way he said the one word made it clear to her it would be best if she changed the subject. She opened her menu and began looking at the choices. Everything sounded so delicious.

"So, what's good on the menu since this is my first time here? What are you getting?"

When he didn't answer right away, she glanced up and saw a sexy smile on his face. "Well, since what I want to eat isn't on the menu," he paused and her face heated, "I'm having the steak pizzaiola. It's one of the chef's specialties. What do you prefer–beef, chicken, veal, seafood or pasta?"

"I pretty much eat anything, but I'm leaning toward either the veal piccata or the mushroom-crusted salmon. Which do you recommend?"

"I've never had the salmon but I can assure you, you won't be disappointed with the veal."

Kristen giggled. "You sound like a car salesman."

Devon laughed at her comparison. The waiter returned with their drinks and they placed their dinner orders. A few minutes later, they were enjoying Caesar salads and warm fresh Italian bread.

"So, Ms. Kristen Anders, tell me about yourself, other than what's in your short biography I read on the back of Jenn's book."