Lean on Me
Page 8
The look in his eyes made her legs go weak, and she couldn't tell if it was due to arousal or sheer intimidation. Imitating the subs she'd seen in the clubs, she said hurriedly, “I'm sorry, Sir. Please forgive me, Señor.”
He huffed a laugh. “You're not sorry.” He paused as voices sounded from outside the front door, and his cheek creased as he smiled down at her. “You may change here—right where you are. No underwear, please. Store those pants in your locker and find me at the bar. Be there within five minutes.”
And he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her standing in the reception area, holding a skimpy skirt. A matching top lay on the desk. He'd obviously brought clothing out here just in case. She scowled.
Ben gave her a sympathetic look before turning to greet the couple who had just walked in. More arrived behind them.
Damn Master Cullen anyway. She'd like to beat the cabrón over the head with her biggest, wettest mop. She hauled in a breath and tried to pretend she stood in the women's locker room as she stripped out of her extremely tight pants. Getting them off took some serious sweaty work and created quite a show. Removing her thong felt harder, mentally at least, since none of her audience had left the entry, and more kept crowding in. From the heat in her face, she'd turned red. Very red.
“Don't we have a dressing room to change in?” one woman asked.
“New trainee. I daresay she annoyed Cullen,” a man answered, laughter in his voice.
Andrea kept her eyes lowered and pulled on the skirt, squirming like a worm to get it past her full hips and bottom. Finally. But… She stared down in disbelief. The damned thing looked even smaller on her than it had before. Stretching like Saran Wrap over her butt, it covered her from the top of her hipbones to only a quarter inch below the cheeks of her bottom. He has got to be kidding.
A ripple of laughter snagged her attention, and she realized she'd spoken aloud.
“Nice ass,” a Dom with silvery gray hair said.
She stiffened and glared at him before stalking into the locker room to put her pants away.
* * *
Cullen shook his head as Sam finished his story.
“It was a cute glare,” the other Dom said, “but nonetheless…”
“Nonetheless,” Cullen agreed with a laugh. “We'll be working on that little problem.”
He shoved a Coors to Sam and watched the new trainee stalk up to the bar. He could almost see smoke coming out of her still red-tinged ears. She'd have to turn damn red for a blush to show against her dusky golden skin. He also noticed how her tanned legs went on forever, or at least up to the tiny excuse for a skirt. The hot pink glowed in the dim light of the room, and he felt certain he wasn't only one who enjoyed the way it stretched over her round ass.
After checking that the members crowding the bar had drinks, Cullen stepped out from the bar, deliberately infringing on Andrea's personal space. Damn, he liked her height. The top of her head came to just under his chin, and if he wrapped his arms around her, he could rub his face against her curly hair.
Right now, she'd probably deck me. So he tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “You look as if you'd like to say something. Go ahead.”
“That wasn't fair,” she spit out. “You could have let me change in the restroom instead of in front of all those people. It felt like you were punishing me.”
“I was.”
“But…why? I got this.” She patted her bustier. “I'm wearing less.”
Ah, now we get to the heart of the issue. “What did I give you to wear last time? And why?”
“A dress, because you said a sub shouldn't wear as many clothes as a Dom.”
“Did I put you in a long dress so you could cover your legs?”
“No.”
“So, from where I'm standing, you did as little as possible, and did so only to meet my rules, rather than trying to please me.” He ran a finger down her cheek, smiling slightly at the bewildered look in her big eyes. When she truly submitted to someone, she'd understand his point.
He rather envied the Dom who would compel this sub's complete surrender. “We'll talk about it later.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He held his hand out. “Give me a wrist.”
Master Cullen buckled the golden-tan leather cuffs on Andrea's wrists, and the feeling of his strong hands sent chills through her.
The cuffs fit snugly, and he checked to make sure they didn't impair her circulation before smiling at her. “You look lovely in cuffs, Andrea.” His thumb stroked over the palm of her hand. “And you like having them on.”
She opened her mouth to deny such a wussy trait and realized she did. She enjoyed the feel. She nodded.
“Very good.” He gave her hand a warning squeeze. “Don't ever lie, pet. Preferably not to anyone, but never to a Dom.”
Well, at least that was easy enough. “I don't lie, Señor.”
“Good. The punishment is rather unique and not very pleasant.” He pulled a yellow ribbon from his pocket and threaded it through tiny rings on her cuff, then added a blue one. Mild pain. Bondage. She swallowed hard.
“You had a night to get used to the place, to wearing less”—his grin flashed as he glanced at her skirt—“and to taking orders, wearing cuffs, and having your movement restricted. Tonight you'll get to try real bondage.”
Oh, Dios. Anxiety warred with exhilaration in the pit of her stomach.
“How does that make you feel, love? Knowing someone will restrain you, maybe on a cross, maybe on a bench?” His intent eyes were the color of high mountain forests.
She swallowed again. The gentleness of his hand on her hair made it possible to answer. “Scared. Excited. Both.”
“Good.” His cheek creased. “Nothing too drastic at first. Not tonight.” He ran a finger over her lips, and his look intensified. “Someday, however, I will restrain your hands, maybe with chains so I can enjoy the clinking sounds you'll make as you get close to coming.”
Her mouth dropped, and his finger slid inside, returning to brush the wetness over her lower lip.
“When I tie your legs apart, you won't be able to move. You'll be open and exposed for my pleasure.” His hand on her upper arm tightened, and she could feel the sudden dampness between her legs. “I look forward to touching and tasting and taking every part of your body, little sub.”
She shivered, and his smile increased.
He tangled his hand in her hair and tilted her head back. The lips that came down on hers felt as firm as the body that pinned her against the bar. He held her in place as he deepened the kiss, as his tongue took possession, then coaxed her to respond.
A rigid erection pressed against her lower abdomen, and heat pooled in her pelvis. When her legs wobbled, she curled her arms around his neck. The sheer size of him made her feel so soft and feminine…and controlled. He took what he wanted, and oh, but she wanted him to take more.
He pulled back and murmured in her ear, “But for tonight, you only get bondage. Say, 'Yes, Sir.'”
“Yes, Sir.” Her husky voice sounded as if she'd just gotten out of bed, and the thought of bed—and him—turned her legs to jelly.
His laugh boomed out, making her lips curl up. Dios, she liked his laugh.
“Off you go. You're with Heather on the dance-side. Find her and tell her she has the first two hours off.” He smiled. “Your shift as barmaid ends at eleven, and that's when Raoul takes over the bar. Come to me then.”
As she watched him walk back to the bar, her shoulders felt cold and empty where his hands had rested. The way he affected her was just scary…and wonderful. This was so what she wanted, someone who could make her feel like this.
But she needed to remember the other trainees' warning: he didn't get involved.
Back behind his bar, Master Cullen laughed at something a Domme said, then glanced at Andrea and lifted an eyebrow.
She realized she hadn't moved. Flushing, she headed for the dance-floor half of the bar. Hopefully she didn't look too much like a cowed mouse scurrying away.
As she wound her way between the small sitting areas, she nodded and smiled at the members. Some even remembered her and called out a hello. How totally cool. Halfway across the room, she spotted Heather serving a group of Dommes and the male and female submissives at their feet.
Andrea walked over. “Hey, Master Cullen says you're off for two hours.”
“All right.” Heather glanced at her and laughed. “Nice skirt, Andrea. You know, I didn't think those pants would last long. Masters like to touch skin.”
“Wish I known before,” Andrea said with a rueful smile. “He made me change out there in front of Ben and everybody else who came in.”
“That was nasty of Sir what with you being so new.” Heather frowned in the direction of the bar, then shrugged. “But you might as well get used to it. We get a lot of strip orders.”
“Oh, great.”
Heather grinned. “Hey, when the order comes from a Dom you're interested in—well, it can be really hot, you know?” She glanced over her shoulder at a Dom with dark brown hair sitting nearby. Legs extended, arms resting on the back of the couch, he was listening to another Dom talk, but his eyes rested on the brown-haired sub. Openly watching and obviously enjoying her. When his gaze met Heather's, the look sizzled.
He huffed a laugh. “You're not sorry.” He paused as voices sounded from outside the front door, and his cheek creased as he smiled down at her. “You may change here—right where you are. No underwear, please. Store those pants in your locker and find me at the bar. Be there within five minutes.”
And he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her standing in the reception area, holding a skimpy skirt. A matching top lay on the desk. He'd obviously brought clothing out here just in case. She scowled.
Ben gave her a sympathetic look before turning to greet the couple who had just walked in. More arrived behind them.
Damn Master Cullen anyway. She'd like to beat the cabrón over the head with her biggest, wettest mop. She hauled in a breath and tried to pretend she stood in the women's locker room as she stripped out of her extremely tight pants. Getting them off took some serious sweaty work and created quite a show. Removing her thong felt harder, mentally at least, since none of her audience had left the entry, and more kept crowding in. From the heat in her face, she'd turned red. Very red.
“Don't we have a dressing room to change in?” one woman asked.
“New trainee. I daresay she annoyed Cullen,” a man answered, laughter in his voice.
Andrea kept her eyes lowered and pulled on the skirt, squirming like a worm to get it past her full hips and bottom. Finally. But… She stared down in disbelief. The damned thing looked even smaller on her than it had before. Stretching like Saran Wrap over her butt, it covered her from the top of her hipbones to only a quarter inch below the cheeks of her bottom. He has got to be kidding.
A ripple of laughter snagged her attention, and she realized she'd spoken aloud.
“Nice ass,” a Dom with silvery gray hair said.
She stiffened and glared at him before stalking into the locker room to put her pants away.
* * *
Cullen shook his head as Sam finished his story.
“It was a cute glare,” the other Dom said, “but nonetheless…”
“Nonetheless,” Cullen agreed with a laugh. “We'll be working on that little problem.”
He shoved a Coors to Sam and watched the new trainee stalk up to the bar. He could almost see smoke coming out of her still red-tinged ears. She'd have to turn damn red for a blush to show against her dusky golden skin. He also noticed how her tanned legs went on forever, or at least up to the tiny excuse for a skirt. The hot pink glowed in the dim light of the room, and he felt certain he wasn't only one who enjoyed the way it stretched over her round ass.
After checking that the members crowding the bar had drinks, Cullen stepped out from the bar, deliberately infringing on Andrea's personal space. Damn, he liked her height. The top of her head came to just under his chin, and if he wrapped his arms around her, he could rub his face against her curly hair.
Right now, she'd probably deck me. So he tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “You look as if you'd like to say something. Go ahead.”
“That wasn't fair,” she spit out. “You could have let me change in the restroom instead of in front of all those people. It felt like you were punishing me.”
“I was.”
“But…why? I got this.” She patted her bustier. “I'm wearing less.”
Ah, now we get to the heart of the issue. “What did I give you to wear last time? And why?”
“A dress, because you said a sub shouldn't wear as many clothes as a Dom.”
“Did I put you in a long dress so you could cover your legs?”
“No.”
“So, from where I'm standing, you did as little as possible, and did so only to meet my rules, rather than trying to please me.” He ran a finger down her cheek, smiling slightly at the bewildered look in her big eyes. When she truly submitted to someone, she'd understand his point.
He rather envied the Dom who would compel this sub's complete surrender. “We'll talk about it later.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He held his hand out. “Give me a wrist.”
Master Cullen buckled the golden-tan leather cuffs on Andrea's wrists, and the feeling of his strong hands sent chills through her.
The cuffs fit snugly, and he checked to make sure they didn't impair her circulation before smiling at her. “You look lovely in cuffs, Andrea.” His thumb stroked over the palm of her hand. “And you like having them on.”
She opened her mouth to deny such a wussy trait and realized she did. She enjoyed the feel. She nodded.
“Very good.” He gave her hand a warning squeeze. “Don't ever lie, pet. Preferably not to anyone, but never to a Dom.”
Well, at least that was easy enough. “I don't lie, Señor.”
“Good. The punishment is rather unique and not very pleasant.” He pulled a yellow ribbon from his pocket and threaded it through tiny rings on her cuff, then added a blue one. Mild pain. Bondage. She swallowed hard.
“You had a night to get used to the place, to wearing less”—his grin flashed as he glanced at her skirt—“and to taking orders, wearing cuffs, and having your movement restricted. Tonight you'll get to try real bondage.”
Oh, Dios. Anxiety warred with exhilaration in the pit of her stomach.
“How does that make you feel, love? Knowing someone will restrain you, maybe on a cross, maybe on a bench?” His intent eyes were the color of high mountain forests.
She swallowed again. The gentleness of his hand on her hair made it possible to answer. “Scared. Excited. Both.”
“Good.” His cheek creased. “Nothing too drastic at first. Not tonight.” He ran a finger over her lips, and his look intensified. “Someday, however, I will restrain your hands, maybe with chains so I can enjoy the clinking sounds you'll make as you get close to coming.”
Her mouth dropped, and his finger slid inside, returning to brush the wetness over her lower lip.
“When I tie your legs apart, you won't be able to move. You'll be open and exposed for my pleasure.” His hand on her upper arm tightened, and she could feel the sudden dampness between her legs. “I look forward to touching and tasting and taking every part of your body, little sub.”
She shivered, and his smile increased.
He tangled his hand in her hair and tilted her head back. The lips that came down on hers felt as firm as the body that pinned her against the bar. He held her in place as he deepened the kiss, as his tongue took possession, then coaxed her to respond.
A rigid erection pressed against her lower abdomen, and heat pooled in her pelvis. When her legs wobbled, she curled her arms around his neck. The sheer size of him made her feel so soft and feminine…and controlled. He took what he wanted, and oh, but she wanted him to take more.
He pulled back and murmured in her ear, “But for tonight, you only get bondage. Say, 'Yes, Sir.'”
“Yes, Sir.” Her husky voice sounded as if she'd just gotten out of bed, and the thought of bed—and him—turned her legs to jelly.
His laugh boomed out, making her lips curl up. Dios, she liked his laugh.
“Off you go. You're with Heather on the dance-side. Find her and tell her she has the first two hours off.” He smiled. “Your shift as barmaid ends at eleven, and that's when Raoul takes over the bar. Come to me then.”
As she watched him walk back to the bar, her shoulders felt cold and empty where his hands had rested. The way he affected her was just scary…and wonderful. This was so what she wanted, someone who could make her feel like this.
But she needed to remember the other trainees' warning: he didn't get involved.
Back behind his bar, Master Cullen laughed at something a Domme said, then glanced at Andrea and lifted an eyebrow.
She realized she hadn't moved. Flushing, she headed for the dance-floor half of the bar. Hopefully she didn't look too much like a cowed mouse scurrying away.
As she wound her way between the small sitting areas, she nodded and smiled at the members. Some even remembered her and called out a hello. How totally cool. Halfway across the room, she spotted Heather serving a group of Dommes and the male and female submissives at their feet.
Andrea walked over. “Hey, Master Cullen says you're off for two hours.”
“All right.” Heather glanced at her and laughed. “Nice skirt, Andrea. You know, I didn't think those pants would last long. Masters like to touch skin.”
“Wish I known before,” Andrea said with a rueful smile. “He made me change out there in front of Ben and everybody else who came in.”
“That was nasty of Sir what with you being so new.” Heather frowned in the direction of the bar, then shrugged. “But you might as well get used to it. We get a lot of strip orders.”
“Oh, great.”
Heather grinned. “Hey, when the order comes from a Dom you're interested in—well, it can be really hot, you know?” She glanced over her shoulder at a Dom with dark brown hair sitting nearby. Legs extended, arms resting on the back of the couch, he was listening to another Dom talk, but his eyes rested on the brown-haired sub. Openly watching and obviously enjoying her. When his gaze met Heather's, the look sizzled.
