****

Tasha

Maybe this was a mistake, I think as feel a stranger’s hand on my ass. I immediately grab for my purse, which contains the mace I carry with me all the time. I turn to the offender behind me, uncomfortable yet ready to use my mace in this club if need be.

“Excuse me, Miss,” says a man who is about two inches taller than me in these heels. He’s got brown eyes and dark blond hair and he’s giving me a hard glare with his hand still on my waist.

I push out of his embrace, but instead of freeing myself, I stumble a bit because I’m not used to wearing heels. This encourages Mr. Stranger Danger to grip one side of my waist and my opposite arm with his other hand to steady me. He also pulls himself in closer.

“Look a bit unsteady in those heels,” he says, looking down at my new shoes—shoes I now regret ever buying.

“I’m fine. Thank you,” I say, keeping my face neutral. 

“You definitely are fine. Your Dom let you out of the house in those shoes? He should be shot or better yet, dumped for me,” he says, licking his lips.

I can feel the bile as it begins to creep up my throat. I may not know everything about this lifestyle, but my instincts and research alerts me that this dude is some type of fake Dom. He’s someone who’s watched one too many pornos featuring ropes and floggers and now thinks he’s an expert.

“Why don’t you try it?” I hear behind Mr. Stranger Danger and I look over his shoulder.

My breath catches. I can’t believe he is here. Even in the darkened club, I can make out those green eyes with a fire blazing behind them; the usual toothpick tucked into the right side of his mouth.

“Try what?” Mr. Stranger Danger, startled, turns from me. He looks Jeremy over, sizing him up.

“Dumping her Dom,” Jeremy says, placing his hands in his pants pockets. I get the feeling it’s a move meant to maintain his control. “You told her she should dump her Dom for you. But any real fucking Dom would know never to approach a sub to undermine their Dom. By the way, take your fucking hands off of her,” he asserts, stepping closer to the man.

Thankfully, Mr. Stranger Danger’s hands immediately drop from my waist and arm. A sense of relief floods my bloodstream and I take a step back. Jeremy looks me over carefully, from head to toe. Then pins the fake Dom with his glare.

“It’s your lucky night. I’m going to give you some advice since it’s clear you have no clue what you’re doing. First, don’t ever try to undermine another Dom’s territory. Secondly, if you ever touch her again without permission, the very last thing I’ll be doing is talking. We clear?”

Jeremy’s hands are still in his pockets. His demeanor suggests that he could be having a regular conversation with the guy, but it’s his eyes. They tell the real story. In this moment, I realize that the eyes are truly the windows to the soul. According to Jeremy’s window, his soul is saying he is not the one to mess with. Mr. Stranger Danger must also pick up on the message. He tosses up his hands in a surrendering motion.

“Hey, man, I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. You can go now,” Jeremy returns.

I’m pretty sure Mr. Stranger Danger nearly sprains an ankle trying to move quickly out of Jeremy’s line of vision. I watch as he disappears into the crowd, hoping he doesn’t try that same act on some other woman. I turn back to Jeremy, embarrassed but wanting to thank him for getting rid of that guy before I had to pull out my mace. “Thank—”

“Let’s go,” Jeremy demands, staring straight ahead at the exit. My apology is cut short as he grips my arm and pulls me toward the door. His grip isn’t overly restraining, but it’s tight enough for me to know he’s serious.

 “Go? Wait. What?” I ask, trying to keep up with his long strides. However, I find it difficult to do in my new heels. I tug at my arm, trying to free myself. I don’t know what he thinks this is, but I don’t appreciate being manhandled. I open my mouth to tell him exactly this, but his words cut me off.

“Where are your keys?” he asks, still not looking at me.

We make it past the entrance door.

“Wait!” I say, finally pulling away from his grasp. “Where are we going?” 

“We aren’t going anywhere. You’re going home,” he says coolly.

“But—”

“But nothing… You have no idea about this lifestyle. You saw that creep in there? He’s far from the only one willing try to get over on a naïve newcomer.”

“How do you know I’m a newcomer?” I question, feeling insulted. Yes, it’s true, but he didn’t have to pull my card like that.

He simply frowns as he looks me over. Then he turns his eyes on me as if he has answered my question. “Let’s go. Where’s your car?” He grips my arm again, pulling me toward the parking lot.

Despite my embarrassment of his obvious dismissal, I feel my heartbeat quicken from the warmth of his hand against my skin. I peer out of the corner of my eye to see if he feels what I‘m feeling, but I only see the hard set of his jaw as he scans the parking lot for my silver Corolla. When he spots it, he picks up his pace toward the car.

“Take out your keys,” he requests once we reach my car.

I squint at his staunch dismissal of me. “I’m not ready to leave. Answer my question. How do you know I’m a newcomer?” I become satisfied by the look of surprise on his face by my act of boldness.

His eyes scan over me from head to toe. “I just know,” he half growls and a half whispers.

I shiver at the glazed, intense look in his eyes, which have darkened slightly.

“Then show me.” I surprise my own self with that comment. I don’t know what the heck just came over me, but I know that the only interest I have in this lifestyle is the man standing in front of me. And I’m tired of denying my attraction to him. I need something in my life to change or get me excited since my writing has sucked as of late.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me. Show me.”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, hand still gripping my arm. “You don’t even know what the hell you’re asking.” He lowers his forehead to mine, running his finger along my jawline.

My eyelids flutter shut due to his touch on my skin. I swallow, licking my lips. “Y-you’re right, I don’t. But I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” I don’t know how I know that, but I do.

“LaTasha,” his voice is strained.

“If you’re too scared to teach me…” Holy shit! I have zero idea where my boldness is coming from, but I know being this close to him makes me want more.

“You don’t need someone like me. I’m not an easy or traditional lover. I don’t do candy and roses and shit. Do you get what I’m saying?” he pauses.

I simply stare at him, growing more intrigued.

“I do paddles, nipple clamps, and floggers. Red marks and bruises turn me on,” he’s damn near growling, his finger stroking down the side of my neck. “I’m not scared to teach you. I’m scared of breaking you,” he admits.

Why does that admission warrant a gush of wetness in my panties?

“I’ve been through worse. I haven’t broken yet,” I purr.

Jeremy’s jaw tightens. He’s struggling with something. He pulls back and grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my head up to look at him. His lips are so close to mine, I’m too tempted to reach up and press my lips to them. But I won’t go that far.

He’s glaring into my eyes, searching for something. “Meet me at Al Biernat’s next Friday night. I’ll give you some time to think about it. I’m no half-ass Dom, LaTasha. If you want this with me, there’s no half-stepping allowed. I will demand everything of you,” he warns.

Why do his words both frighten and excite me at the same damn time?

“Seven o’clock sharp. I don’t tolerate tardiness,” he informs, releasing his grip on me.

I mourn the loss of his touch just that quickly. “O-okay, Al Biernat’s next Friday, seven o’clock.”

“I’ll have my security escort you home. Get in your car.”

There’s a slight tremor in my hands as I dig through my bag for my keys. When I find them, I open the car door and hear a car pull up behind us. Jeremy looks over and nods toward whoever’s in the dark car with tinted windows.

“They’ll call me to let me know you got home safely.”

I don’t even comment about not needing someone to follow me home. I simply nod and get in. Jeremy pushes my door closed and watches me as I start my car and pull off. Even in the darkness of the parking lot, I can feel his gaze on my car. I shiver at the thought of him watching me.