Three days later
“PERFECT TIMING. AS long as we don’t make any pit stops, I’ll be able to run home to change and make my shift at six,” I say, glancing down at the GPS.
“I still say you should just go back tomorrow, doll. What’s one more day?” Seth grumbles.
With the pictures I’d taken of Astrid with her black eye and bruised ribs, combined with some screenshots of hateful messages from her ex she’d kept after changing her phone number, along with the letter that had been left on my windshield, we’d had enough evidence to be granted the restraining order. Seth had been able to narrow down Brandon’s location in about an hour using the security camera footage from my apartment complex’s garage that captured the license plate number of the car he was renting, tracking him to a hotel a couple of towns away. He was served this morning.
With the restraining order in place and eyes on Astrid’s ex, I wanted to get back to a somewhat normal routine. For the next couple of nights, just to be safe, she would continue to stay at Doc’s, since Brandon didn’t know the location, just until we were sure he was on his way back to California. And I could finally get back to work. As much as I loved every single uninterrupted second I spent with Seth at the beach, there was an annoying little voice in my head telling me I was letting Roxanne down after she’d been the only one willing to give me a job.
We could all tentatively breathe a little easier knowing my sister was safe. She’d be with someone every minute of the day until he was on the other side of the country, and Imperium Security would have him under surveillance, making sure he did just that. Astrid would finally be able to move on and begin to truly heal. The bruises had faded, but there was no telling what kind of damage he’d left her with mentally. She put on a brave face, but I had a feeling she hid a lot of what she was going through inside her head. She’d been with Brandon for years, suffering emotional abuse for a long time before it had finally erupted into physical. But while her outside healed on its own, it would take a professional to help with the scars inside her.
I change the subject. “So I’m curious,” I begin, straight up ignoring his question, since I’d already told him a thousand times I was going back to work tonight and there was nothing he could say to stop me.
He gives me a fake grumpy face before reaching over to squeeze my knee, making me swat at his hand. “Curious about what, lovely Twyla?”
“What made you get into BDSM?” I ask, turning in my seat to face him more.
He frowns for a minute, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand while continuing to steer with the other. “You want the Doc version or the Seth version?”
“How about both?”
He chuckles, relaxing back against his seat. “The Seth version is much simpler. I’m a kinky motherfucker who gets off on control. I’m a sadist. I get pleasure from inflicting certain types of pain on a willing submissive.”
My head tilts to the side as I eye him closely. “See, I don’t get that. You’re so… gentle, so caring with me. I couldn’t see you hurting me while we make love.”
“Ah, see? You’re different. Much, much different, doll. As I said before, I had never made love to anyone before you. My Dom side is nothing like what you’ve been experiencing the past few days,” he tells me, giving me his wicked grin.
The look always makes me clench. “So… are you saying you’d never use your Dom side on me?” I ask, my voice small.
He must sense my disappointment, because he takes my hand and brings it to his lips. “I will let you have whatever side of me you want… except for the backside.” He winks, and I burst out laughing, taking my hand back.
“Yeah, no. Don’t think I’d be interested in using the butt plug on you that I sold you the night we met.” I shake my head. “Okay, so what about the Doc version?” I prompt, getting us back to my original question.
He clears his throat and glances out his window before staring straight through the windshield. “So, preface. Only my partners know my backstory. It’s kind of dumb, so don’t go feeling sorry for me or anything. Promise?”
I reach over and lock his pinky with mine. “Swear. Nothing you could tell me would ever make me feel differently about you, Seth,” I tell him, sincerity filling my voice.
He meets my eyes, and my insides melt at the love I see in his. And then he speaks. “I guess that’s the truth considering I told you I’m part of a team that kills people for a paycheck and you still let me bone you.”
I throw my head back and laugh, swatting his chest and making him grin. “You dick. Okay, so spill,” I command, and he cocks an eyebrow sexily.
“Bossy. I thought I was the Dom here. But I’ve gotta admit, you’re fucking hot when you tell me what to do,” he teases.
“Seth!” I growl, wanting to know his story.
“All right, all right. So the Doc version is… being a child prodigy”—he pretends to flip hair over his shoulder, making me giggle—“I was always much younger than all the people I went to school with. I was in college when I went through puberty. So when most boys my age were hanging around girls going through the same crazy hormonal changes, I was around women. Sorority chicks. Hot sorority chicks.”
I reach over and pinch his nipple, making him yelp. “Watch it,” I grumble.
He rubs at his chest, furrowing his brow. “Fuck, woman. You look so sweet and innocent on the outside. I was tricked. Future reference: I am not a masochist. I can dish it, but I can’t take it.”
“I have no clue what that even means, but continue. Just no more talking about hot sorority chicks. It makes me feel all stabby, and I don’t like it,” I confess, unfamiliar with this feeling of jealousy.
“So anyway, they basically made a pet out of me. I was young and wanted to be part of the cool crowd, and they used me for my brain. But it was the way they used me that I later realized was so fucked up. I can’t tell you how many papers I wrote for other people, let girls cheat off me, gave them brilliant ideas I should have kept for myself to use, all because they’d pretend they liked me. They toyed with me so bad. Showing me their bodies, some even letting me touch. They made me believe they were my friends, a couple acting like they even wanted me, and I’d play right into their hands, doing their work for them. I might’ve been a genius when it came to book smarts, but I was still just a thirteen-year-old boy.”
His voice had turned serious by the end, and I could hear the pain there when he spoke about being used. And suddenly I felt angry and protective over younger Seth, my blood pressure rising at the thought of my sweet and generous man being taken advantage of. How dare those bitches play with his emotions like that, especially with him unaware what they were doing!
He continues, “Doc says when it finally dawned on me what was happening, something inside me switched. By then I was sixteen, and around the same time, I lost my virginity to a twenty-year-old. She asked me to do things to her, spank her, choke her, things I’d seen in porn before but never really thought about doing whenever I would eventually have sex one day. And seeing how I was angry over the way those older students had used me, taking it out on her made me feel pretty damn good. She wanted it, begged for it, even. It was a mutual exchange of power. She got off on the roughness. She let me take back control of myself, and I really fucking liked it.”
“So that started when you were sixteen. From the get-go. Wow.” I pause, taking in everything he told me. “And then Doc scooped you up a couple years later for his team. Where did Club Alias come from?”
“Well, I told you about how I was nervous about us being able to make enough money from the security business. So I’ll start from there. I had the idea to open the club, but I didn’t want it to be just any sleazy sex club. We did a lot of research before creating the business we have now. A shitload, actually. Not only did we travel around, touring different clubs that were well established to get an idea of what we wanted for ourselves, but I went to a Dominant training center, also known as The Academy,” he explains.
“A Dominant… training center,” I repeat, astonished as my mouth gapes. Who knew there was such a thing?
“Yes. Anyone could watch porn or read some shit on the Internet and call themselves a Dom. But you know me, doll. I’m nothing if not thorough. I take my education in any of my endeavors very seriously. I studied under Master Anderson at his academy in Denver. It’s a training center for both Dominants and submissives. We studied for several weeks separately, and eventually, under the supervision of our teachers, we practiced scenes together. It also gave us the opportunity, just like any other college, to see what side of BDSM we excelled at, and then we were able to specialize in aspects we wanted to learn more about.”
I’m completely fascinated. I have so many questions, and I don’t know where to start. “What kinds of specialties were there? What did you pick? How did you find out about The Academy? Why—?”
“Whoa, slow down there,” he chuckles. “Let me see. Like, for example, Master Anderson is a Dominant who specializes in the bullwhip. He’s trained in everything, but he is known for being the most highly skilled Dom in the world with his bullwhip. The man can split a fucking hair with that thing.” He smiles and seems to be thinking back on his teacher fondly. “There was another trainer who came to visit who specialized in kinbaku, which is bondage art. He could tie a submissive up with his special rope and make the knots look like absolutely breathtaking masterpieces. It took great concentration and patience. I’m too squirrely for that, so it didn’t really interest me, but it was still beautiful.”
“I feel like there’s this whole other world right here, within reach, and I had no idea it even existed,” I admit, feeling a little overwhelmed but captivated all the same.
“That’s how I felt when I first started digging too, doll. But now it’s just a part of my life, like it’s always been there, as normal to me as stinky cleats to a soccer mom. And you may not realize it, but even in your short amount of time around it, you’ve grown way more comfortable. On that first day I met you, you could barely look at the stuff on the shelves. But even on your second lesson, you were picking up and handling toys like a champ. It all becomes second nature,” he assures, and I beam at his praise.
“So what did you specialize in at your training center?” I ask curiously.
“I was a little different than most of the other students. Yes, there were things I excelled at—I have an uncanny ability to get a submissive to reach subspace more quickly than most—but I actually found I enjoyed the training itself most of all. I respected my teachers so much. They were so knowledgeable and had all of us students hanging on their every word, devouring the information they were giving us. I admired that. I wanted that. It seemed like such a powerful position to be in. So Master Anderson coached me personally in becoming a BDSM instructor myself. And when we opened Club Alias, that was the position I took.”
That makes me pause. I hadn’t thought about it until he pointed it out, but what would happen now? My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, making me nauseous. Seth trains the submissives who come into his club. And from what he explained to me during our first two lessons, it’s a very hands-on curriculum. I know our relationship is new, but would he expect to keep—
“What’s going on in that head of yours, lovely Twyla?” he interrupts my thoughts. “I know that look. Open and honest, remember?” His voice is deep, with just a hint of his commanding tone entering his words.
“I… it just dawned on me that you… you train the submissives at Club Alias.” I tuck my hair behind my ear then straighten my glasses nervously.
“Yes, doll. You’ve known that since the day I met you,” he says, glancing between me and the open road.
“Right, but I… what I mean to say is… well… I guess what I’m wondering is…” I blow out a breath in frustration. “Do you, um… plan to continue, uh… doing that for… much longer?” I finally get out, my face heating. I don’t do confrontation. And the last thing I want is to cause a fight. I just don’t know what being in a relationship with a professional Dominant entails. Discovering that just him mentioning hot sorority girls made me feel overwhelming jealousy, I don’t know what I would do if he expected to keep teaching submissives, or more specifically, touching other women.
Suddenly, I feel the car slow and then come to a stop as I see Seth pull us over on the side of the road. My face jerks toward him when I hear him unhook my seatbelt, and before I know what’s happening, he pulls me over the center console and into his lap.
“What—”
He slams his lips to mine, cutting off any question I was going ask. His tongue enters my mouth, and the taste of him blankets my consciousness. The way he controls the kiss, like he’s mastered every movement of our lips and tongues to draw out the most pleasure, sends my heart into overdrive while the rest of my body melts.
His hand goes to the back of my hair, yanking my head backward until my neck is exposed to his mouth’s assault. Beard, teeth, blistering breath—the combination makes me feel wild and completely paralyzed at the same time. God, what this man does to me.
His hot hand lands on my inner thigh before his calloused palm slides upward. His fingers gain access to my wetness, easily through the opening of the loose, comfortable shorts I’m wearing. Slipping his finger beneath the elastic of my panties, he enters me as his teeth skim over the sensitive flesh of my neck, making me suck in a breath between my gritted teeth.
His finger retreats before he thrusts it in again, over and over so deeply he lifts my body with each plunge. He adds a second finger, curling them this time, and I cry out in pleasure. He’s not gentle but completely calculated, being rough enough to make it insanely intense but not painful.
“This,” he growls against my throat, circling his thumb around my clit, “my beautiful doll, is the last pussy I will ever touch. This,” he pulls me to him with the hand still gripping my hair, “is the only body I ever want to feel… see…” Just then, I lose control over all the feelings growing inside me, and I explode, calling out his name as I come from his masterful fingers’ assault. And as I pant toward the ceiling of my car, he pulls out of me, and I look down in time see him put his shiny fingers into his mouth before closing his eyes, drawing them out slowly, and finishing his sentence. “…or taste for the rest of my life.”
All tension leaves my body, and I collapse against him as I try to catch my breath. He lifts my chin, looking into my eyes as his swirl with intensity.
“I’ll still give lessons. I will still be the head trainer of Club Alias. But there are plenty of highly trained Dominant members who will gladly step in to give the hands-on experience. You are the only one, Twyla, who will ever get that from me.”
And with that, any doubt hiding in the recesses of my mind disappears.