The Exposure
Page 13
She could keep her skirt on and maybe either go topless or just wear her bra. Yes, that would work. Moving faster, she hurried to the women’s locker room. On her way, she noticed Master C standing by the front desk.
Damn.
She’d told him she was here as a Top tonight. If he saw her, he’d want to play, and if she was with someone else, he’d think she lied to him.
As she stood watching, a couple approached the door. There was really nothing overly noticeable about either of them, but something about the man seemed off. He kept looking around as if he expected someone to be following him.
Very strange.
The woman with the man said something to him, and he grabbed her arm so tightly, she winced. He leaned his head down and whatever he said made the woman shake her head. Meagan disliked the guy on sight. She typically thought herself to be a good judge of character and this man had bad news written all over him.
They had made it to the door, and Master C very animatedly refused to let them in. The man argued, but Master C stood his ground, and within seconds, two security guards rushed past her. One look at the rather large and well-built security guards, and the man backed down. He shouted something to Master C, but grabbed the woman and walked back to his car.
Master C and one of the guards stayed where they were. She supposed to ensure he stayed away. But the second guard came back inside.
Meagan couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Who was that?” as he went by.
“A troublemaker, Mistress,” he replied. “He’s been blackballed from every club in the area. Don’t know why he keeps trying to get in one, and for the life of me, I don’t understand why a woman would be with him.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Word is he’s not one to follow safe, sane, and consensual rules.”
The woman at the man’s side flashed in her mind. Why would she be with him? She didn’t like any of the answers that came to mind.
“No need to worry, though.” The man had obviously mistaken her silence. “I’ll keep you and everyone else safe. He won’t be back anytime soon.”
Suddenly, she felt sick and the elation she felt earlier had disappeared. All she really wanted to do in that second was go home, put on some pajamas, and eat ice cream.
“I know you will,” she assured him. “But I’ve had a long day and don’t feel in the mood anymore. If you know what I mean.”
“Yes, indeed.” He looked over his shoulder. “I’m sure he’s long gone, but it’d make me feel a lot better if you’d let me walk you to your car.”
“I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”
* * *
Saturday came with no further word from The Taskmaster, but Meagan still found herself out of sorts. She told herself she was an idiot. All she was doing was posing for Luke. Which, she begrudgingly agreed, she hadn’t done in fifteen years.
She pulled up to the driveway of the address he’d given her and gawked at the house. Either photography or building clubs or the combination of both had been good to him. His house was a grand contemporary wooden structure. Slowly, she proceeded up the drive, taking in as many details as she could of the manicured yard.
Luke met her at the door.
“Your place is beautiful,” she said, instead of saying hello.
“And you’re surprised about that?” he asked, a hint of amusement tickling his lips.
“No, well, yes, I mean . . .” She took a deep breath. “It’s just not how I pictured a bachelor who builds BDSM clubs to live.”
“Then come on inside.” The amusement wasn’t even a hint anymore; a grin covered his entire face. “I have the living room set up as a harem and a padded table and St. Andrew’s Cross where the kitchen should go. But in order to get there, we’ll have to step over all the mattresses I put out along the hallway to accommodate the many orgies I host.”
“You are such an ass.” She pushed his chest to move him out of the way and stepped into the foyer.
He captured her wrist. “You’re on my turf now, sweetheart.”
She didn’t want him to see how the veiled warning made her knees weak and her heart race. “I’m here for you to photograph, nothing else, so drop the Dom attitude.”
He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but instead he nodded his head. “Let me show you where you can put your things. Then we can go ahead and I’ll take you to the studio.”
From the way he sounded, he wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. Fine. That was fine by her, too. She followed him down a hall that didn’t have any mattresses, but rather pottery pieces and paintings that gave the impression of an art gallery. With the number of windows the house had, the natural lighting was stunning. She sort of wished he’d walk slower so she could take it all in.
But he was a man on a mission and didn’t stop until he came to the end of the hallway. “I have the clothes I want you to wear in the bedroom.” He pointed to the door on his right. “There’s a bathroom in there you can use to get ready. When you’re dressed, come out this door and go across the patio, and I’ll be waiting in the studio.”
With that said, he headed outside. Meagan put a hand to her stomach in a useless attempt to calm the butterflies. Holy shit, she was really going to do this. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the bedroom and hurried to the bed to see what he’d selected for her to wear.
She stood, staring at it for several long seconds. Then, with a sweep of her hand, she picked it up and carried it outside and into Luke’s studio.
“What the hell is this?” she asked, lifting the scrappy material up to his face.
“It’s what I want you to wear.”
“You said clothes. This isn’t clothing.”
Damn.
She’d told him she was here as a Top tonight. If he saw her, he’d want to play, and if she was with someone else, he’d think she lied to him.
As she stood watching, a couple approached the door. There was really nothing overly noticeable about either of them, but something about the man seemed off. He kept looking around as if he expected someone to be following him.
Very strange.
The woman with the man said something to him, and he grabbed her arm so tightly, she winced. He leaned his head down and whatever he said made the woman shake her head. Meagan disliked the guy on sight. She typically thought herself to be a good judge of character and this man had bad news written all over him.
They had made it to the door, and Master C very animatedly refused to let them in. The man argued, but Master C stood his ground, and within seconds, two security guards rushed past her. One look at the rather large and well-built security guards, and the man backed down. He shouted something to Master C, but grabbed the woman and walked back to his car.
Master C and one of the guards stayed where they were. She supposed to ensure he stayed away. But the second guard came back inside.
Meagan couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Who was that?” as he went by.
“A troublemaker, Mistress,” he replied. “He’s been blackballed from every club in the area. Don’t know why he keeps trying to get in one, and for the life of me, I don’t understand why a woman would be with him.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Word is he’s not one to follow safe, sane, and consensual rules.”
The woman at the man’s side flashed in her mind. Why would she be with him? She didn’t like any of the answers that came to mind.
“No need to worry, though.” The man had obviously mistaken her silence. “I’ll keep you and everyone else safe. He won’t be back anytime soon.”
Suddenly, she felt sick and the elation she felt earlier had disappeared. All she really wanted to do in that second was go home, put on some pajamas, and eat ice cream.
“I know you will,” she assured him. “But I’ve had a long day and don’t feel in the mood anymore. If you know what I mean.”
“Yes, indeed.” He looked over his shoulder. “I’m sure he’s long gone, but it’d make me feel a lot better if you’d let me walk you to your car.”
“I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”
* * *
Saturday came with no further word from The Taskmaster, but Meagan still found herself out of sorts. She told herself she was an idiot. All she was doing was posing for Luke. Which, she begrudgingly agreed, she hadn’t done in fifteen years.
She pulled up to the driveway of the address he’d given her and gawked at the house. Either photography or building clubs or the combination of both had been good to him. His house was a grand contemporary wooden structure. Slowly, she proceeded up the drive, taking in as many details as she could of the manicured yard.
Luke met her at the door.
“Your place is beautiful,” she said, instead of saying hello.
“And you’re surprised about that?” he asked, a hint of amusement tickling his lips.
“No, well, yes, I mean . . .” She took a deep breath. “It’s just not how I pictured a bachelor who builds BDSM clubs to live.”
“Then come on inside.” The amusement wasn’t even a hint anymore; a grin covered his entire face. “I have the living room set up as a harem and a padded table and St. Andrew’s Cross where the kitchen should go. But in order to get there, we’ll have to step over all the mattresses I put out along the hallway to accommodate the many orgies I host.”
“You are such an ass.” She pushed his chest to move him out of the way and stepped into the foyer.
He captured her wrist. “You’re on my turf now, sweetheart.”
She didn’t want him to see how the veiled warning made her knees weak and her heart race. “I’m here for you to photograph, nothing else, so drop the Dom attitude.”
He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but instead he nodded his head. “Let me show you where you can put your things. Then we can go ahead and I’ll take you to the studio.”
From the way he sounded, he wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. Fine. That was fine by her, too. She followed him down a hall that didn’t have any mattresses, but rather pottery pieces and paintings that gave the impression of an art gallery. With the number of windows the house had, the natural lighting was stunning. She sort of wished he’d walk slower so she could take it all in.
But he was a man on a mission and didn’t stop until he came to the end of the hallway. “I have the clothes I want you to wear in the bedroom.” He pointed to the door on his right. “There’s a bathroom in there you can use to get ready. When you’re dressed, come out this door and go across the patio, and I’ll be waiting in the studio.”
With that said, he headed outside. Meagan put a hand to her stomach in a useless attempt to calm the butterflies. Holy shit, she was really going to do this. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the bedroom and hurried to the bed to see what he’d selected for her to wear.
She stood, staring at it for several long seconds. Then, with a sweep of her hand, she picked it up and carried it outside and into Luke’s studio.
“What the hell is this?” she asked, lifting the scrappy material up to his face.
“It’s what I want you to wear.”
“You said clothes. This isn’t clothing.”
