Page 1 of On His Terms

Chapter One

“There he is.”

“Where?” Chelsea Barton craned her head to get a look at Master Alexander Monahan.

“Near the fireplace,” her friend Sara said.

Chelsea glanced in that direction. Dressed in blue jeans, a long-sleeved, Western-style shirt, a black leather vest, a silver bolo tie, and a cowboy hat, he didn’t fit her image of a BDSM trainer. His height, though—over six feet tall—was definitely what she’d expected. The billionaire Dominant was as gorgeous as he was unapproachable.

“Quit staring!” Sara cautioned. “Good submissives don’t behave that way.”

That didn’t stop Chelsea. Rules were helpful for other people. As for her, she ruthlessly pursued what she wanted. And she’d decided that Master Alexander would help her become the perfect sub—or at least passable enough that no one would notice if she wasn’t really all that into it. That was step one in Project Snag Evan C.

Master Evan C was a rocker whose band was climbing the charts. With the right PR firm—hers—he could become a megastar. As a double bonus, her company would gain real credibility by signing the celebrity, which would in turn bring her the success she dreamed of…the success that would prove she was worthwhile, despite what she’d been told her entire life.

So far, her efforts to ensnare his attention had been a dismal failure.

Six months ago, she’d met him at a party and had developed a certifiable fangirl crush on him. She fantasized about him tying her up and fucking her hard.

Chelsea wanted him. And not just as a client, but also as a Dominant and lover. What could be more fabulous than career success and having a sexy man to boot?

Sara, always the unwelcome pragmatist, had advised Chelsea to forget her ideas. Master Evan C liked well-trained submissives, women who subjugated their needs to suit his. Which, as Sara pointed out, really wasn’t Chelsea. Chelsea was headstrong and determined, a driven achiever who chewed antacid for breakfast, suffered from rampant insomnia, and hadn’t taken a vacation in over two years. That Master Evan C discarded women like the scarves he wore while performing made her even more resolved to succeed.

That was where Master Alexander came in.

According to Sara, he used to be a trainer, and he was still well respected in the community. He didn’t get emotionally involved with subs, and he was one of the best.

“He’s looking this way,” Sara whispered.

“And he’s alone, finally.” When Chelsea had learned that Sara and Lyle—her Dom—had been invited to Master Alexander’s birthday party at the Den, Master Damien’s luxury Colorado mountain retreat, Chelsea had begged, pleaded, and cajoled for an invitation.

At first, Sara had refused. She hadn’t wanted to be part of any more of Chelsea’s shenanigans. While Chelsea didn’t blame her friend—after all, their last escapade had earned Sara a punishment from Lyle—Chelsea refused to be deterred. “If you’ll excuse me…?”

“Remember, you don’t know me.”

She gave her friend a false smile. “Have we met?” After setting her shoulders, Chelsea headed straight for Master Alexander.

A couple stopped to talk to him. Foiled, she paused to grab a glass of sparkling water from a passing server. She was woman enough to appreciate the hottie. He wore a bow tie, but no shirt, and it looked as if he could have been poured into his dress slacks. The material revealed his muscular thighs as well as his hot rear. And she supposed it was possible he had oil rubbed on his bare chest.

With a nod, he said, “Enjoy your evening, ma’am.”

Maybe she’d hire this crew for her next event. It would certainly be a shocker and earn her some much-appreciated publicity.

Rather than taking a drink, she rolled the glass between her palms and waited for her chance to approach Master Alexander. Finally, the couple moved off.

After putting down her drink she walked toward him. Damn, his cowboy hat made him look like an outlaw.

He rested his forearm on the mantelpiece and studied her intently as she approached. Even from several feet away, he exuded power.

Calling on the bravado that she suddenly needed, she continued on.

When she stopped near him, he swept his gaze over her, from the toes of her pumps to the top of the shiny clips she’d placed in her short hair.

He didn’t greet her. Instead, he waited. That didn’t surprise her. She’d done plenty of research on him and learned he was inflexible, a formidable foe in the business arena despite his recent setbacks.

“Mr. Monahan, I’m Chelsea Barton.” She extended her hand and gave him her most dazzling smile. The look was practiced. She could charm anyone with it. “I wanted to wish you a very happy birthday.”

“Did you?” Finally, he dropped his arm to accept her hand.

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