Cherise Sinclair - Club Shadowlands

One eyebrow raised, the manager waited patiently. She could feel his hand pressed low against her back, like a brand.

What had she gotten into? “Bondage?” she managed to say. “Like men making slaves of women?”

“Not always. Sometimes a woman dominates the man.” He nodded to the left where a man dressed in only a loincloth knelt beside a woman. The woman wore a skintight latex vest and leggings with a coiled whip attached to her belt.

“And domination can range all the way from an entire lifestyle, twenty-four/seven, to just a fun bout of sex. Many women fantasize about having a man take charge in the bedroom.” He stroked a finger down her flushed cheek. “Here the fantasy is real.”

Something inside her tightened at his words, a fascination mixed with shock. Take charge —what exactly did that mean? Then the memory swept through her of how he'd touched her naked body, how he'd simply…taken charge, and she couldn't keep from looking at him.

His dark eyes were intent on her face, as if he could read her reactions as easily as she would read a client's books. She felt telltale redness rise in her cheeks.

“Come,” he said, smiling, his hand moving her forward. “Let's get something warm inside you—”

Inside her? Like the thrust of a man's —She jerked her mind away. Good grief, she'd been here five minutes, and her thoughts were in the gutter. A smart person—and she was that if nothing else—would make a polite retreat right about now.

“And then you can decide if you want to hide in the entryway or stay here with the grown-ups.”

Even as her spine stiffened, she realized how easily he'd played her, and she glared at him.

His lips quirked.

As they approached the circular bar, the bartender abandoned making a drink to come over. He looked like a Great Dane with shaggy hair, all bone and muscle, even taller than… Sir . She frowned over her shoulder at the manager. What the heck kind of name was Sir?

“Something hot, Cullen, for Jessica. Irish coffee with lots of Irish.” As Zachary gazed down at the little intruder, he had to smile. She had a lovely body with lush hips wide enough to cradle a man in softness and full breasts begging to be savored. Her skin was fair, and her eyes the color of spring leaves.

And right now, those eyes were wide as his grandmother's favorite supper plates. How she'd read the rules and not understood the nature of the club, he couldn't comprehend. He really shouldn't have let her in, signature or not, but her helplessness had brought out all his Dom instincts to protect and nurture.

“A hot drink would be wonderful,” she told the bartender.

Zachary's eyes narrowed; she was still shivering a little but much improved.

The toweling off had helped, as had her dawning embarrassment when he'd handled her. Although in her mid- to late twenties, she was obviously not accustomed to being touched so intimately. Her blushes had left him with a growing desire to touch her even more thoroughly, to explore her body, and discover her responses.

But he hadn't been able to ascertain if she would welcome his attentions or not. As for if she was a sub… The votes weren't in on that yet either. However, once she moved past the initial shock of seeing the club, he'd be able to look into her mind and see if the sight of domination excited her.

The night was yet young . If he sensed desire in her thoughts, he would enjoy laying her soft, vanilla-scented body out across his bed, restraining and opening her for his pleasure.

“Master Z.” One of his newer dungeon monitors stopped beside him, his bony face worried. “Could you arbitrate for a minute?”

“Certainly.” Zachary glanced at Jessica. “Do you need an escort to the entry or will you be staying?”

Her mouth—pretty pink lips that would look quite lovely around his cock—pursed as she glanced around the room. He sensed her misgivings vying with her intense curiosity. The curiosity won. “I'll stay.”

“Brave girl.”

The creamy Irish coffee burned all the way down, starting a little fire inside her. Heavenly . When the bartender came back, Jessica had finished and was gazing sadly into the already empty cup.

“Ready for more?” he asked.

Heck, her purse was in the car trunk and would be there until a tow truck pulled her car out. “No, thank you. That's all right.”

He leaned an enormous arm on the bar and frowned. “You obviously want another. What's the problem?”

What was it with these guys? “Are you and your boss mind readers or what?”

His laugh boomed, drowning out the music. “Master Z's the mind reader; I'm just observant.”

His statement was a little too straightforward for comfort. Surely, the manager didn't read— nah . “I left my purse in the car, so no money.”

“Not to worry. You're the owner's guest tonight.” After a minute, the bartender set a steaming mug in front of her. “There's a two-drink limit, so I made this one plain coffee.”

“But I've only had one drink.”

He grinned at her. “You haven't been here before. You may well need more alcohol after a bit.”

Now why did that sound so ominous? She sipped the drink instead of inhaling it, and this time the warmth filling her was from hot coffee and not potent alcohol. She set an elbow on the bar, sighing as the cold released its last grip. When she saw Sir again, she'd have to thank him for the drinks.

So, he was the owner of this place, not the manager. No wonder everyone jumped at his requests. Then again, she hadn't known he was the owner, and she'd let him strip her naked and that wasn't like her at all. Somehow he'd been in control from the moment he walked into the dressing room. Master Z , the bartender had called him; that fit all too well. She stiffened. Bondage club… Did that mean he was into tying people up?

The thought made her squirm. How could she ever face him again without turning red? She sighed, realizing she probably wouldn't see him again anyway. After all, he was way out of her class. Too good-looking. Too self-assured. With that touch of silver in his hair and laugh lines around those smoky gray eyes, he was definitely a man, nothing like the boyish types that seemed to be everywhere. And he had those lean, rippling muscles…um-hmmm.

But what really attracted her was his air of sheer competence, like whatever he did, he'd do better than anyone else. She sighed, shook her head. Duh, Jessica. A guy's nice to you, and there you go, getting all enthused.

But to her slender mother's disgust, she'd never had the trim, perky body that men liked, and Master Z would know that since he'd seen her in all her naked glory. Considering his appearance, he could have any woman in this place. Hell, any place. Yeah, she would just avoid him and not make an even bigger fool of herself.

Turning on the bar stool, she checked out the room. A bondage club. Now this presented her with an adventure she'd never imagined. Nothing like this existed in the tiny town where she'd grown up. And in Tampa, she'd never ventured to try anything so exotic. Shoot, her idea of adventurous was volunteering at the animal shelter.

She grinned. While here, she might as well widen her knowledge base. Aunt Eunice would be delighted, and her mother would be horrified.

But nothing thrilled her more than learning something new. Where to start?

The people dancing appeared to be having fun, although she'd never been at ease on a dance floor, at least not sober. Give her a business or social occasion, and she felt right at home. Make it a man-woman interaction, and she tensed up like a businessman being audited.