TRUST - Meghan & Quint (Fettered Book 5) Page 2

  I pick up the first folder on my pile for the afternoon and scowl. Yesterday I waded through interviews with six people and scared four of them away. I felt like the big bad wolf, and not in a good way. I open up the folder and scan the application. It’s reasonably hopeful—young guy, been into kink for a while, some experience, happy to take the trainee classes. I flip to the notes of whoever handled the preliminary phone call, and decipher at Harlan’s scrawl. Not an asshole. Good enough.

  I look up at a sound I’m not even sure I heard, and spy someone entirely unexpected hanging out in my office doorway. “Afternoon.” I eye Emily’s business partner and the folder in her hand suspiciously. “Ari does the party planning. I vote for stupid stuff like puke-green streamers and nipple clamps for all.”

  Meghan doesn’t laugh.

  I sit up straight and start paying a lot more attention. She’s trying to project confidence, but her cheeks are pale and her shoulders are high. She’s nervous, and definitely trying to decide if she’s going to bolt or not. “What’s up?”

  “This is a copy of my membership application.” She walks in and puts the folder on my desk. “Ari scheduled me as your first appointment, if that’s okay?”

  I stare, trying to figure out whose neck to wring first. “I haven’t had time to review your file.” Which is headed straight for the hall of fame of dumb responses.

  “It’s short. I have no experience, no idea what kinks I might enjoy, and Emily will vouch for me personally, although I’m hoping you don’t need to ask her until you’ve made a decision on whether you’ll admit me to provisional membership. She doesn’t know I’m here.”

  She’s done an admirable job of layering a collected exterior over a bunch of feelings I’m having a harder time reading. I slide Meghan’s folder toward me, but I don’t take my eyes off her face. She doesn’t look away, but that’s not a particularly useful tell with women who work in the professional world. I mentally walk back through the opening statement she’s just made. The most interesting part by far is that she’s got an entire workplace full of kinky friends and she hasn’t told any of them she’s applying to join the club, but I don’t want to start there. “Why are you here?”

  She raises an eyebrow at my bluntness. “Because Ari told me that’s how I become a member. All intake happens through you.”

  Ari made that choice for a reason, because she’s more than capable of granting provisional membership to the boss lady’s best friend. “Typically, yes. The first step to getting that approval is to tell me why you’re here.”

  Her face goes professionally bland. “Scorpio’s not wrong about your bossy side.”

  She hasn’t seen anything yet. I sit quietly. I mostly drop by Your Perfect Moment to mooch cookies from Gabby, but I know that Meghan’s the one who lands most of their clients. She’s got a pitch in there somewhere, and I want to hear it.

  “I’m curious.” She crosses one leg over the other and clasps her hands around her top knee. Her face stays open, but her body language just locked up shop. “I have a lot of friends who play here, and I want to know what I’m missing.”

  Part of her does want to be here, but the rest of what she just said is surface-level bullshit. “Those might be reasons, but they’re not your main ones.”

  Her eyebrows are a lot more pissed off this time. “Isn’t it up to me to decide what my reasons are?”

  Any Dom who deals with Ari on a daily basis knows how to swim in those waters. “Kink is all about respect. It isn’t necessarily about equality. If you walk into this world, you can expect Doms to ask you some pretty pointed questions, especially if you aren’t being all the way honest, and right now you aren’t.”

  She just stares.

  “You’re asking to be invited into our bedroom, to see us naked, to see us vulnerable and crying and screaming and scared, or so transported by pain or pleasure that we can’t remember our own names.” I pause, because I’ve given this speech a thousand times, but rarely with this kind of energy. “If you want us to be that kind of raw and honest with you, it starts with you being willing to go there too.”

  It takes a long time, but she finally nods. “That’s fair. I guess I didn’t think of it that way. I know this is a sex club, but what I hear at the office is mostly about Harlan getting all goopy while Scorpio sings, or Ari and Mattie debating where you’ve hidden the rest of the pink Kool-aid.” Her hand slaps over her mouth. “Shit. Pretend I didn’t say that.”

  I grin, because she’s funny, and because she clearly understands privacy and loyalty and those are huge things in my world. “Don’t worry—they’ll never find it.”

  This time her smile is real, without any of the salesperson gloss.

  I’m not the kind of Dom who can be swayed by pretty smiles, especially when they shut down as quickly as this one just did. I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “Tell me why you’re here, Meghan. The truth this time—all of it. Or leave. Your choice.”

  Chapter Four

  Meghan

  He’s totally bossy. And hot. And making me work hard for something I’m not even sure I want. He’s speaking to me with the kind of disrespect I haven’t let anyone get away with in a really long time, and it’s scaring me. Not for me, but for my friends, who apparently take this kind of shit from the men in their lives and like it.

  I stand up, because I’m ready to lambast him with both barrels, and that’s something I never do. I deal with bridezillas and mothers-in-law who should be put out on ice floes and grooms who are too dumb to keep it in their pants the night before the wedding and I never lose my cool. Ever. It’s a very big part of part of how I do my job. I stay calm and reasonable and accommodating and everyone likes me.

  I have no idea what to do with the one man who doesn’t.

  He leans forward and something in his eyes sharpens. “You have no idea what to say to me right now, do you?”

  He’s not helping and he knows it. “You’re pushing on me really hard. I don’t know what you want to hear.” That sounds a lot less pissed-off than I mean it to.

  “The truth. The one that lives deep inside you and got you through my office door. Not whatever you think I might want to hear.” He leans forward and puts his hands on the folder I sweat blood over and he’s never opened. “Out there, people want pretty lies and half-truths. In here, you’ll be welcomed exactly as who you are, even if that’s awkward or confused or raw or hard to hear.”

  His words puncture the bubble of hurt inside me that I’ve been trying to pretend doesn’t exist. “I’m lonely.” The words land in the air between us and I can’t believe he somehow pulled them out of me. “Well, that’s not true, exactly. I have lots of friends who love me. Five of them didn’t leave my house until midnight last night and we had a great time.” I suck in a breath, because I’m babbling, and I never do that either.

  He just stares at me with hard eyes. The ones that expect the truth, and all of it.

  Or I have to leave. “They’re all members here. And there’s these looks they share with each other, and inside jokes that make them all giggle that I don’t understand.”

  He’s studying me like I’m something in a glass jar that just landed on his desk. “You feel excluded.”

  I can feel my cheeks setting on fire. “That makes me sound like I’m twelve.” Middle-school drama at its worst.

  “No.” His face is still hard-ass Dom, but something in his eyes softens. “It makes you honest. Thank you. Now tell me the rest.”

  The next time I decide to do something this stupid I’m going to book myself a cruise to Antarctica first. “I don’t get kink. I make brochures for people who want to be married in handcuffs and leather, but I don’t understand it. I don’t know why people want to get hit or have sex toys shoved inside them or dress up like a maid.” I stop, because I’ve just insulted his entire way of life. Even a really nice bride would have fired me by now.

  “Okay, you don’t understand kink.” He nods like I tol
d him I like coffee, but not green tea. “You don’t find your ideas of what we do arousing. So why are you here?”

  I’m beginning to really hate that question. “Because my friends can’t all be wrong. I’ve known Emily for twenty-four years and she’s never been this comfortable in her skin. Scorpio sings goopy love songs under her breath when she thinks nobody can hear her. Gabby stood up straight and told a pushy client to fuck off the other day.”

  Quint chuckles. “Gabby did that? Seriously?”

  I belatedly remember she’s his friend too. “She did. Very politely, but it was awesome.”

  He smiles, and it makes me want to like him, even if he is a hard-ass. “You want to know why they’re becoming better versions of themselves. Whether maybe this kinky stuff has anything to do with it.”

  It sounds so simple when he says it out loud—and really, really naked. “Yes.” Maybe. I don’t like where this is going. “Something like that. My best friend likes to get spanked. It makes her happy. I don’t get why, but I know that it does, and I maybe want to understand that a little.”

  His lips twitch. “Is that a request for a spanking?”

  I push with my feet and manage to back up my chair a few inches. I’m confused about a lot of this, but I don’t want this man hitting me. “No. Sir. Or whatever I’m supposed to call you.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Quint is fine for now. I’ll let you know if it’s time to use Sir.”

  I’ve walked into something I don’t know how to get out of. Which makes this morning three for three on things I never do. “I don’t like the idea of pain. At all. Scorpio says it kind of turns into hotness, but I don’t think it would be like that for me.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugs. “We ask newbies to keep an open mind. Our trainee classes introduce you to most of the common kinks, and a lot of Doms will ask you to try something once unless it’s a hard limit.”

  I’ve heard the words bantered around my office, but it suddenly seems important to understand them a lot more clearly. “A hard limit is something I won’t ever do, right?”

  “It’s something you won’t do now. Limits can evolve over time, but no Dom should ever cross a hard limit or ignore a safeword. Those are two of the ways we protect people who play, and they’re taken very seriously here.”

  I’m not worried about safety—my friends aren’t idiots. It’s the other part of what he said that’s freaking me out. “What did you mean about trainee classes and trying something once?”

  He eyes sharpen again and I don’t feel safe at all.

  Chapter Five

  Quint

  She’s intrigued me, and I don’t know why. I don’t like new members who are this confused, this judgmental, and this nervous about experimenting a little. Those attitudes belong in the world out there, not in the one we make in here, and it’s my job to protect that.

  Unfortunately, it’s also my job to see if she can change.

  I lower my voice a little. “It means that if you were my sub, I’d tell you that unless you have a very firm aversion to spankings and want to put them on your hard limits list, that you need to come bend over my knees right now and bare your ass and stay there long enough for me to make your skin nice and pink.”

  Her cheeks turn the color I’d like to make her ass.

  I watch everything else too. The shock, the feet pushing backward—and the nipples that suddenly broadcast their presence inside her soft blouse.

  I hide a grin. I’d bet my Dom card she’s wet right now. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

  Her eyes shoot to mine and she nearly chokes on her tongue. “Embarrassed. Confused.”

  A decent answer, but not a good one. “Aroused?”

  The sound she makes is a cross between a growl and a whimper. “Maybe. Some. This is really new and I’m not used to people speaking this bluntly.”

  Bullshit. “You’re not used to a guy who might put his fingers in your pussy speaking like this. You work with Scorpio and Leo, and Mattie and Ari practically live in your office. No way you haven’t heard talk.”

  She swallows. “I thought you just did intake.”

  I blink, because she’s lost me—and then I remember my throwaway comment about putting my fingers in her pussy. Which means this just got kind of interesting “Nothing happens here without your consent, Meghan. Do you want me to touch you?”

  “Yes. No. Shit.”

  She’s ready to panic, and I didn’t know cheeks could get that red, but she hasn’t left and she’s being honest, and that’s progress. “Do you want me to spank you?”

  She just looks at me, wordless.

  Damn. That’s not the face of someone who knows the answer and won’t say it—it’s the face of someone who truly doesn’t know.

  She clears her throat. “Do you want to spank me?”

  Red flags run up every flagpole I’ve got. The only thing worse than a sub who doesn’t know what she wants is one who wants to borrow her Dom’s opinions as her own. That’s how abuse happens, and sometimes neither of them even realize it’s happening. I’ve seen those partnerships—and the wreckage they leave behind.

  Not in my house. Not on my watch.

  I want to crumple the neat application in front of me. She’s a salesperson. She gives people what they want. In the world out there, that makes her a really excellent wedding planner. In my world, it makes her dangerous.

  “I’m sorry,” she says very quietly. “I’ve said something wrong. You were asking me all these hard, intimate questions, and I thought it was maybe okay to ask you one. I apologize for overstepping.”

  It’s a pretty apology, and one I don’t deserve—and it’s for the wrong thing. I lean forward. Time to show her exactly how this honesty stuff works. “I like spanking newbies, or being their first exposure to paddles or crops or canes. I’m good at helping people figure out what they like and don’t like, and I like being that person in their kink journey. It’s one of the really good parts of my job. So yes, I’d be happy to spank you.”

  She looks confused. And hurt. And sad. “Then what did I do wrong?”

  “You asked me if I wanted to spank you. Did you do that because it would help you form your own answer?”

  She nods quickly, nose wrinkled. “Sure. That’s how grown-ups come to agreement.”

  It’s how grown-ups land themselves in a train wreck. She’s so deep into pleasing people she can’t even see it. “Not if you let your answer conform to mine without even considering what yours might be first. That’s fine if you’re asking a client what color streamers they want, or what wedding venue.”

  She makes an odd, choked sound.

  My Dom radar pings. “What?”

  She grimaces. “Emily gets mad at me sometimes for promising things because clients want them, even when they’re a major headache for us. The last one just happened to be a wedding venue.”

  Emily’s a smart cookie, but she doesn’t wield a big enough paddle. “Why do you make those promises?”

  Meghan makes another face. “Because I want to make people happy. It’s their wedding, and I want them to have everything their hearts desire.”

  “So you’d let me spank you if it would make me happy. Even if you don’t actually want to be spanked.”

  Her eyes get hazed—and worried. “I don’t know. That sounds bad, but I thought you said I should be willing to experiment.”

  Damn. I’m very clear now on why she’s in my office instead of walking into newbie night with her Ari-issued provisional membership card—because at the end of the day, it’s my job to make the tough calls. I can’t set Meghan loose in my trainee group. She’s a gasoline spill waiting for a flame. A sub who could convince herself she likes almost anything until it’s too late, and she could pull a Dom under with her. A sub who could waltz through a limits discussion without even knowing her truth—or lack the will to use her safeword.

  I should send her away, because those things are all kryptonite in a kink community a
nd I won’t let her be the seeds of destruction in mine. Or I can do what Ari thought I should do when she sent Meghan in here.

  The one thing Ari can’t do herself.

  I sigh, because I know where I got hooked. Not by the outsider who doesn’t fit in, or by the woman who respects her friends enough to try to make sense of their world. I’m a much simpler Dom than that. I’m hooked because I can read the truth she doesn’t know yet.

  She wants me to spank her.

  I lean forward and wrap my fingers around her wrist. “I’ll grant you provisional membership. On one condition.”

  She smiles, but I can see the wariness. Smart woman. “That’s great, thank you. I’m sure your condition won’t be a problem.”

  She’s not going to be sure of that for long. “I train you.”

  Chapter Six

  Meghan

  I’m suddenly remembering, way too late, all the scuttlebutt I’ve heard about this man. “Mattie says you’re the scariest Dom here.”

  He nods. “I am.”

  I swallow. “So how would that work—you training me?” I feel like I’m discussing a wedding by parachute drop. Something so surreal that I just keep talking because I don’t have any idea what else to do.

  “We set rules and terms so that everyone’s clear. Then you agree or you walk away.” His eyes go all dark and stern. “If you sign, then you do every damn thing I tell you to unless you use your safeword.”

  Holy shit. Scorpio and Emily talk about the Dom thing all the time, but I’ve never believed them. Harlan’s a big, cute teddy bear and Damon worships the ground my best friend walks on. “I’m not comfortable with that.”

  He smiles, and I feel like a mouse caught in a corner. “You’re not supposed to feel comfortable.”

  That flies in the face of how I believe the world works best. I deliver what Emily calls grace and ease, and I’m good at it. Nothing in this place feels like either, and I’ve only made it as far as Quint’s office. I uncross my legs and re-cross them again, buying myself a little time. He’s laid a condition on the table, but I’ve navigated plenty of those. I need more information. Then I can figure out how to handle this in a way that doesn’t give him open season on my body parts. “I already filled out the club contract as part of my membership application. I understand everything in it.”