Unfettered (3 page)

Unfortunately, he’d disappeared from her life after that kiss.

Ian strode through the club, heading straight for Ronnie. She’d recognized him earlier. Her eyes had widened when he stepped onto the stage, and her cheeks had flushed when he caught her staring at him when one of the others was talking. But since the orientation part of the night was over and the class started mingling, she hadn’t even glanced his way.

Almost every other person had made an effort to meet him; the Doms introduced themselves with a firm handshake, and the subs batted their lashes over eyes filled with desire. At this point, the desire wasn’t for him personally so much as an experienced Dom, and he didn’t take offense at it. The meet-and-greet portion of the night might seem purely social, but it was really the first step in teaching the attendees how to negotiate the world of the club. It bothered him to see Ronnie sitting at the bar instead of moving through the crowd.

“Excuse me,” he said to Christy, the one female they had in the class who was there to train as a Domme.

Kalina, the club submissive who was acting as bartender for them, saw him coming and smiled. “Ian, may I get you a drink?”

“Thank you, Kalina, but no.”

She lowered her eyes and stepped away, and he leaned against the bar next to Ronnie. She turned in her seat, and their eyes met.

Christ, she still had those big dark eyes he’d loved years ago. “Hello, again,” he said.

“Hey,” she said. “Long time, no see.”

They looked at one another, and the years fell away. She wasn’t someone he used to know anymore. She was Ronnie. The same girl next door he’d looked out for. The same one who’d sat at his side after his grandmother passed, and tempted him beyond reason until he’d kissed her. He’d been eighteen at the time and had no business kissing a fifteen-year-old.

“A three-year age difference won’t stop me now,” he said before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Those eyes widened again as she flushed a pretty pink and her lips parted on a gasp.

Ian smiled. When he’d first thought of Ronnie in the club, he’d worried he wouldn’t be able to get into the right mindset to train her, but that wasn’t the case at all. He’d watched from the wraparound viewing lane above the club’s main floor as Adam met each person individually and gave them his card. He hadn’t recognized Ronnie when she’d first come in, but when she’d walked over to the bar, he’d known that stride. That confident walk hadn’t changed.

She hadn’t grown much, either. Still a tiny thing, she wore tight blue jeans, and a black tank top that showed off a strong, tight body. He didn’t know what he’d expected her to look like, but she surprised him. Her dark caramel-colored hair, so silky his fingers tingled with the need to tangle in the strands, was cut in a way that was both simple, and sassy. Not only did the simple clothes and hairstyle show off her body and skin, they showed off the colorful tattoos covering her right arm and shoulder.

He’d been surprised, and at the same time, he knew he shouldn’t be. As he looked at her now, heat started to build within him—a need to get deep inside her mind, seek out what made her juices flow, and then give her the freedom to wallow in her own desires. Anticipation began to build in his gut.

“It’s been too long, Ronnie. I’m glad you found Overwatch.”

In less than a second, the tough chick he remembered appeared again. A slim brow arched high, and Ronnie crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s your fault it’s been so long.”

“Yes, it’s my fault.” He nodded. “After my grandmother passed, there didn’t seem to be a reason to stick around.”

“Or a reason to say good-bye?”

Some might not have seen the hurt in her eyes, but Ian was a good Dom. He saw it, and it was like a punch to the gut. “You’re right, I should’ve said good-bye before I left. Especially to you, since I know you’d have understood how I was feeling.”

Her arms relaxed, and her eyes cleared. “You’re right. I would’ve understood.”

Feeling like he’d shed a monkey from his back he hadn’t even known was there, Ian opened his arms. Ronnie grinned, hopped off the stool and into his hug. And, fuck, if that didn’t feel good.

“Hey, what’s this?” Simon stopped next to them. “There’s no touching allowed at the first session, Ian. Hands off.”

Ronnie immediately pulled back and, strangely reluctant, Ian let her go.

“Sorry, Sir,” Ronnie said, facing Simon.

“No apology needed from you, lil’bit,” Simon said with a smile. “It’s Ian here who should know better.”

Ian gave Simon a look that said he knew exactly what the other man was up to. “Simon, meet Ronnie Mack, an old friend of mine. Ronnie, this is Simon Sharp, one of your other trainers.”

“I prefer to go by Veronica when here.” She held out a hand to Simon.

He grinned, took her hand, and instead of shaking it, turned it over and kissed her palm. “A pleasure, Veronica. Welcome to Overwatch.”

“Now who’s touching, buddy?” Ian growled.

Ronnie laughed and looked back and forth between them. “I knew from the introductions that this place was special, but I have to admit, I’m surprised at how casual everyone is. I mean, most of the guys I’ve met in the past were all puffed up and adamant about being called Sir or Master every time I opened my mouth. This mostly feels ...”

“Normal?” Ian said.

She shook her head. “Natural. It feels natural.”

“She’s gonna be special,” Simon said a few minutes later while they watched her walking away from them.

Tearing his gaze from Ronnie’s tight ass, he glanced at Simon, already knowing what he would see. Sure enough, the Dom’s gaze was also locked onto Ronnie. An unfamiliar feeling stirred deep within, but before he could examine it, Adam’s whistle echoed through the club, signaling the end of class.

A week later Ronnie parked behind Sam’s Auto and shook her head at the guy by the back door.

“Delilah sounds good,” he said when she got out of the car and started toward him.

“She’s doing good.” Ronnie leaned against the wall, and they both stared at the deep-purple ’70 Barracuda she’d named after a legendary temptress. The car was her baby, and the way she purred proved that a mother’s love was an amazing thing.

“What about you?” she asked Zane, the owner of the garage. “Tina know you’re out here sneaking a smoke?”

Sam’s Auto was an old-school style brick garage with four bay doors and service areas that Zane had inherited from his dad, an old stock racing legend. His thirteen-year-old daughter usually worked the counter up front and ran the shop like a mini Dominatrix, making all the guys ask how high when she said jump. Her mother, Zane’s wife, had died from cancer when she was only five years old, and one of the things that was sure to send Tina on a rant that made them all cringe was catching her dad with a cigarette.

“She’s spending the weekend with her grandparents. They just picked her up”

“Ahh,” That explained why he was smoking. Not only was Tina not there to monitor him, but she was with his in-laws. The ones who’d tried to take custody away from him after his wife died because they didn’t approve of a race-car driver raising their grandbaby.

Zane had retired from racing to raise her.

He glanced at Ronnie. “Don’t worry. I’ll work the counter so you can work your magic in the bay. We got a tow-in late last night. Need you to figure out why this lady’s car keeps dying on her.”

She pushed off the wall and headed inside. “Sounds good.”

“Do the Caravan’s oil first,” he shouted after her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered.

After putting her lunch in the shop fridge, she pulled coveralls over her shorts and tank and went to work. It wasn’t glamorous or as challenging as working on the hot rods and muscle cars the majority of their clientele brought them, but oil changes and wheel balancing helped pay the bills at the garage, and Ronnie could do them blindfolded. The thought of being blindfolded made her nipples tighten, and her mind wandered as her hands went about the work.

The night before Scarlet, had dropped by the apartment with a six pack of beer, and Ronnie had finally told her what she was up to.

“First off,” she said, “I’m so glad there’ll be no more of that Internet dating going on. You know I worried every time you went to meet someone.”

It was true. Scarlet had been her “safe call” every time Ronnie had gone out to meet someone, and though her friend understood why Ronnie did what she did, she hadn’t liked it a bit.

“Second. Adam and Simon both sound delicious, but why the hell have you never told me about Ian before?”

“I don’t know. He left town about six months before I met you, and it seemed pointless to talk about him when I thought I’d ever see him again.”

Scarlet ran a well-manicured finger around the mouth of her beer bottle. “Not so pointless now, is it?”

Ronnie had shrugged, and spilled it all. By the time her friend left, Scarlet was convinced Ian being back in the city, in that club, at this time, meant something special.

Ronnie wasn’t so sure she agreed, but she was excited about tonight and her third training session at the club. They said this was when things would get interesting, but she’d found it all pretty fascinating so far. Last Thursday, everyone had stayed together in one group again as the trainers took turns going over common terms and definitions of things they should know. Things like the differences between a bottom, a submissive, and a slave; hard and soft limits; understanding the stoplight system of safewords. They even covered legal aspects of play and explained the waivers that all members needed to sign when joining the club.

Fees were covered privately with Adam, and she quickly learned why. He charged them on a sliding scale—sort of. There was a reasonable minimum fee everyone paid, but others were encouraged to pay more according to their income. Ronnie agreed to pay an extra ten percent because she could. If she could’ve afforded more, she would’ve paid more. Membership included a locker, beverages, and chocolate.

Apparently, they went through a lot of chocolate.

One of the Doms-in-training was surprised that members could drink alcohol at the club, and commented on it. Eden had been quick to tell them the members were adults and would be treated as such. While club security and Dungeon Monitors kept a close eye out, people were expected to play responsibly.

It all made Ronnie excited and nervous at the same time. Strangely, nothing had happened yet to live up to her sexual fantasies, but she already felt like she was starting to live her dream.

The trainees had paired off to do mock negotiations. The trainers walked among them, listening in, stopping here and there to coach and correct. Since there were seven bottoms and only five Tops in this class, Adam brought in two of the club submissives to help out as well. Ian struggled not to laugh at the look on Mike’s face, the trainee who’d been paired up with Kalina.

The sub was a sweetheart, but a bratty one. Since Mike had been fairly vocal about his “experience” as a Dom, he’d told Kalina not to go easy on him.

“You’re evil,” Eden whispered, as she moved to stand beside him.

“He needs to learn how to listen. Kalina will make sure he does.” The words were barely out of his mouth before Kalina threw her head back and laughed. Loud.

Color flooded Mike’s face, and he stepped forward aggressively. Before he could do anything, Simon had him by the back of the neck, pulling him back from the still-smiling sub.

“And if Kalina won’t make him listen, Simon will.” Eden walked away, an added swing to her hips.

Turning away, Ian walked to where Ronnie was negotiating a scene with Conner. He stood far enough back as to not distract, but close enough to hear.

“I don’t like to be spanked, so the bench is out,” Ronnie told him. “What about the Cross? I’ve never been on one, but have always wanted to try it.”

“So spanking’s a hard limit?” Conner asked. “What else?”

He listened for another minute then interrupted.

“Not bad, guys,” he said, stepping forward to stand next to them. “You’re communicating clearly, which is good. But negotiating doesn’t have to feel like a job interview, or worse yet, like a shopping list of dos and don’ts.”

Conner grimaced and Ronnie chuckled. They looked at each other, neither offended or upset by the critique, and both open to what he was saying. Perfect.

He let out a short whistle and everyone in the closed club turned to him. The shopping list was something lot of the newbies did, and every class needed a demonstration. Looked like he was going to do it for this class.

“We gave you guys a list of things that should be covered in an initial talk, but that doesn’t mean you have to check them off like a to-do list,” he said to the group. “Negotiating can be as erotic as any sexual play when done right.”

He turned to Ronnie. “May I take your hand and lead you to the stage?”

She nodded, wide-eyed.

“Don’t think of your negotiations as something that has to be done before you get to play, think of it as part of the play. Use all your senses to gain and give information. Watch and listen.” When they got to the stage, he turned to face Ronnie and smiled, but didn’t let go of her hand.