Page 23 of Steamy Ever After

From where he stood near the entrance to the new lush garden play area, Landon’s gaze dropped below Clarissa’s neck as she gaped at Mitch walking away. She wore an outfit he’d never seen on her before. A sparkling gold corset pushed her breasts in and up, making his mouth water. The material between the steel bones was fishnet, while the sweetheart neckline, hook eye closure in front, and lace-up back fully showed off the curves of her bust and waist. She’d paired it with a tight, leather skirt that was so short, it was almost indecent—well, anywhere other than at a fetish club. Her luxurious dark brown locks were up in a French braid, which had his hand itching to grab it, wrap it around his wrist, and take full control of her.

It always amazed him how they both participated in the lifestyle before they met, but it wasn’t until then that he’d found the ideal submissive to match his dominant nature. Several weeks into their relationship, she told him she felt the same way—as if they were two halves of a whole who’d finally come together as one. By the end of their first date, Landon had known she was the woman he wanted to spend his life with. In fact, he’d told her that after their third date. But she’d been wary, having long been exposed to the liars, social climbers, and drama that sullied the celebrity world, and it had taken her about fifteen weeks of them dating before confessing her true feelings toward him.

Six months after the production of My Someday had wrapped up, Landon finally got the courage to propose, and because of her original reluctance to reveal that she loved him, her response shocked him. “What took you so long?”

Now, she joined a few friends by the bar while Landon hid in the shadows where he’d been lurking for the past twenty minutes, trying to avoid being noticed by any of her friends who would run and alert her to his presence. He didn’t want her to know he was there for the Spectacular until it was too late for her to back out. The hands of Fate had been kind to him the last time, but the results had been disastrous. Hopefully, he’d be given a second chance with the one woman who would always own his heart.

A half hour ticked by slowly as he nursed a ginger ale he’d gotten from a new waitress he’d never met before. All the staff members, except the bartenders, security guards, and Dungeon Masters, were submissives. The owners allowed them to work off part of their membership fees, which many couldn’t afford otherwise. Aside from the wait staff, they could also work at the desk in the lobby or in the club’s boutique that sold fet-wear and every kink toy imaginable. There was also a new childcare facility at the other end of the club’s parking lot for members with infants and toddlers. Apparently, that was a popular job among many of the submissive employees. Mitch had a rotating schedule, so everyone who wanted to could get a chance to spend time with the kids.

While replacing his empty glass several times, the attractive server with a blonde pixie-cut hairstyle flirted with him. In another life, he probably would have been interested in playing with her. Instead, he let her down easy, telling her he wouldn’t be available to play after the event was over, which coincided with the end of her shift.

Finally, there was a buzz among the members as they started moving downstairs toward the center of the pit, where the slot board awaited on the round, elevated stage used for events, demonstrations, and collaring ceremonies. Landon waited until Clarissa descended the grand staircase before following and working his way through the crowd. He and the other Doms would line up on one side of the stage while the submissives would be on the other.

It took a few minutes to get through the crowd of observers, and he’d just joined the group of participating Doms when Clarissa glanced over. She froze as she stared at him. Shock and anger flared in her cappuccino-brown eyes as her jaw clenched. Oh, yeah, she was pissed.

He could tell she was about to explode, but then Ian Sawyer stopped beside her, leaned over, and whispered something in her ear before his threatening gaze shot to Landon. Whatever he’d said had Clarissa’s back straightening and her chin rising. She refused to look at Landon again as Mistress China, one of the club’s Whip Masters, climbed onto the stage to emcee the event.

Once Ian finished speaking to Clarissa, he strode across the room and stood against a support pillar near the Doms, scowling at Landon as he passed. Yup, the man would lose his shit tonight if anything or anyone disrupted the event, even though Landon had cleared everything with all three owners after putting a plan together. Now, he just had to get lucky and pull Clarissa’s name from the bucket.

Mistress China picked up a handheld microphone and raised her hand, drawing everyone’s attention. There was standing room only since all the seating areas surrounding the stage were occupied. “Welcome to The Covenant’s Slot Scene Spectacular!”

Whistles, cheers, and applause erupted from the crowd, silencing the Domme until the din died down again.

“I’m honored to have been chosen to be your emcee tonight, and hopefully, my name won’t be pulled out of the hat for at least another five years.” Chuckles came from the crowd. “Anyway, it’s our sixth time playing this popular naughty game of chance here at the club, and we’re all thrilled you’ve come to enjoy the event with us again. Whether you’re here as one of our brave participants”—she gestured toward the Dominants on one side and then the submissives on the other—“or you’re just here to watch and enjoy the show, we hope you have an amazing time. Don’t forget to check out the silent auction for charity and the catered food in the garden between your more voyeuristic adventures. Now, let the games begin!”

When another loud cheer exploded from the attendees, Mistress China scowled at them, drawing more laughter before everyone settled down again. The attractive, petite Asian-American woman, whose real name was Charlotte Roth, wore a black catsuit with high-heel, over-the-knee boots. Outside of The Covenant, the Domme was a parole officer, and the job fit her tough-as-nails attitude and persona, even though she could be a mother hen regarding the club’s submissives.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to interrupt, you naughty little voyeurs. Tsk, tsk.” A sadistic grin accompanied her playfully annoyed stare as she wagged her pointer finger at the audience before gesturing to Landon and the other fourteen Dominants at the bottom of the stairs. “Let’s see if our Doms for the evening can behave better. Come up and join me on the stage to find out what order you’ll draw for your submissive tonight!”

One by one, the Doms drew popsicle sticks from Mistress China’s clenched fist. From experience, Landon knew it would take about a half hour for every Dom to pull a name from the bucket and then drop a chip to learn what type of play their scene would be. Master Mitch stood near the slot board with a few papers, listing each participant’s red limits. If the chip fell into an activity that either the Dom or sub refused to do, the Dom would drop it again.

A few minutes later, he stood near the end of the line, having drawn the popsicle stick with the number thirteen written on it with a black marker. Thirteen had always been lucky for him, and he hoped that luck held tonight. Now, he just had to pray Clarissa wasn’t paired up with anyone before his turn to draw a name rolled around.

CLARISSA

No, no, no, and fuck no!

This couldn’t be happening. As the great Yogi Berra once said, it was like déjà vu all over again. Why the hell was Landon at the club when he was supposed to be in New Mexico? And why hadn’t anyone told her he’d signed up for the same event so she could have backed out in time?

Mitch and Ian!

Those fuckers had known! Of course, they had since Master Mitch had been the one to finalize the list of participants. That’s why he’d pulled her aside earlier and given her that warning and why Master Ian had whispered a reminder of that seconds after she spotted Landon standing with the other participating Doms. From across the room, she frowned at the head Dom, but all he did was glare back at her before shifting his gaze to the stage. She tried to give Master Mitch a dirty look, but he was paying attention to Mistress China as she instructed Dom #1 to join her and draw a piece of paper from the bucket she now held.

Okay, don’t panic. What were the odds of being paired with Landon again? One in fifteen. Surely, I can’t get that unlucky twice, right?

Her gaze roamed the other participating Dominants. Sure enough, she recognized the three Doms from Club X and Club Domain who’d just joined The Covenant. As Shelby had said, they were “dreamboats.” Each was handsome and pure alpha male, with good reputations at the other clubs, and she wouldn’t mind being paired with one of them. Hell, she’d take on all of the Doms waiting in line, as long as it wasn’t Landon.

A buzz of excitement came from the crowd, but against her will, Clarissa’s mind zoned it out, along with the other participating Doms. Everything and everyone else ceased to exist at the moment except for the one man she hadn’t expected to see tonight. The one man who was still the sexiest one she’d ever known—the one who’d claimed her heart and then shredded it with his indiscretion.

Damn it. Why was he here with his heated gaze roaming up and down her body from across the room? And why was her body reacting to him? It still ached for him after all this time. Her heart still loved him even though he’d broken it. Her mind though . . . her mind was stubborn, and there was no way in hell she would give him the satisfaction of knowing the rest of her wanted him.

Landon stood six feet even, with long legs, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist. At forty-six, he was two years older than her, but he’d aged like a fine wine with little effort. His salt-and-pepper hair was styled like it’d been for as long as she’d known him—neat and trim, except for a slight cowlick on the left side above his eyebrow. It always wanted to go in a different direction than the rest of his hair—something that drove him nuts, but she found it endearing.

Ugh. Not anymore, she tried to convince herself. There shouldn’t be anything endearing about the man who’d cheated on her with a cheap, floozy actress-wannabe. Ivy Green couldn’t act her way out of a paper bag! And great. Now Clarissa was using one of Landon’s favorite snubs for actors who took forever to get a scene perfect enough for his approval. She would never insult a fellow actor like that out loud, but in her head, she had numerous choice words to describe the woman who’d fucked Landon despite the wedding band on his finger.

She couldn’t see Landon’s eyes right then due to distance and the lighting in the club, but since he wore chocolate-brown leather pants and a matching vest without a shirt, she knew what color his irises were. Unless he wore something green, his hazel eyes glimmered like polished amber. When they’d been a couple, she could get lost in those eyes for hours at a time.

One by one, the participating submissives’s names were called, and they each stepped onto the stage to join the Dom they’d scene with that night. They then discovered what their first play activity would include when the chip bounced and finally fell into a slot on the board. Some of the subs squealed with delight if they liked the scene announced, while a few groaned in frustration. So far, only one Dom had to drop the chip a second time because it initially fell into a slot labeled as a red limit for the submissive. And with every new pairing, Clarissa’s anxiety began to rise—her name still hadn’t been called, and the line of Dominants was dwindling. There were two more to go before it was Landon’s turn to draw a name from the bucket to find out which submissive was his for the evening.

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