Page 9 of Hooked

“Dano is also available—”

“Oh yes,” she gushed, her face lighting up with a wistful smile. “Please, sir. A lesson from Master D would be wonderful.”

Master Sean shook his head. “Leery of the cane, but not of the sadist. Amazing.”

He scribbled something on a piece of paper, folded it, and tucked it into one of her wrist cuffs. “Report to him after you’ve finished here.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” She beamed up at the man and then turned to collect the last girl’s papers.

Master Sean turned to Livia. “The show starts any minute, little sub. Best head on in.”

He strode to the door and pushed it open, holding it for her. His gaze shot behind her then returned. “No girl posse for moral support?”

“No, sir, I’m alone. I was supposed to meet someone here, but she had to cancel at the last minute.”

David would be furious if he knew she’d gone on by herself, but she didn’t plan on him finding out.

“Let me find you a friend,” the beautiful Adonis offered.

As they stepped inside, his vibrant blue eyes, not midnight like the other but more of a sky blue and just as compelling, scanned the crowded room. Suddenly, he grinned.

“This way.” He was speaking loudly to be heard over the band who had just begun playing and the crowd that was cheering wildly. “What’s your name?”

“Olivia, sir.”

He wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her through the throng of people. It seemed more like a concert than a mixer, as she assumed it would be. At a table up front, he stopped behind a stunning redhead in an off-the-shoulder black dress. He wrapped her long ponytail around his wrist and pulled her head back until she was looking up at him. Livia noticed the huge smile on her face before Master Sean’s lips lowered and he devoured her mouth.

After several minutes, he raised his head. “I brought you a guest, nightingale. Olivia, this is my sub Mara.” He pulled up a chair and seated Livia beside her. “She’ll keep you company until someone claims you.”

“She’s lovely, master,” the green-eyed beauty said, her cheeks flushed and slightly breathless from the passionate kiss. She still managed a friendly smile. “My guess is that won’t take very long.”

“We’ve got a room at eleven, baby,” Sean murmured privately in her ear, although his voice carried to Livia. “Don’t be late or the sultan won’t be happy.”

“Never. Tardiness would be an insult.” She flashed a serene smile. “I’ll make sure to bring my seven veils, for the supreme potentate’s enjoyment.”

He grinned, clearly in love with his submissive, and took her lips again, briefly. “I’m on crowd control, gotta go.”

Enthralled by the affection between the two, she watched as Mara followed him with her eyes until he was out of sight.

“How long have you been together?”

“Which time?” she replied, a dreamy quality to her voice as she turned back. She held up her left hand and flashed her wedding rings. “The second time stuck. Well, it was actually still the first. I just didn’t know it.” Noticing Livia’s puzzled expression, she shook her head. “Sorry, long story.”

She shouted to be heard over the screaming fans. “Elena’s doing a set of her Pink covers. Relax and enjoy. Nothing will happen until she’s done. Trust me.”

***

IT TOOK HIM TWENTYminutes to get from the doors to the bar, the crowd standing shoulder to shoulder. There was a party atmosphere in the club tonight, but Joseph wasn’t in the mood. He couldn’t believe he’d come on a Wednesday, the busiest night of the night second to Saturday. He’d left Austin on a whim, usually only coming to play on weekends. But he felt the need to blow off steam and some long pent-up sexual frustration. It seemed that would have to wait until after Elena’s concert.

Irritated, he blew out a breath and veered left to where two of the owners, Rick Spencer and Jonas Mitchell, were sitting, keeping an eye on things from a corner of the bar. Doubtless, a priority was the table near the stage where their submissives always sat. Six in all, seven if you counted the silent partner, Major General Peter Davis, who wasn’t quite so silent since retiring from the Army. The owners all came from the same Special Forces detachment. After leaving the service, they had settled in San Antonio, home to most of them, and embarked on two very lucrative ventures, Club Decadence and Rossi Security, Inc.

The Rossi group was high profile, not least of all their pivotal role in shutting down a major drug cartel in South Texas. The club, on the other hand, was private, but word had spread quickly to the kink inclined and BDSM communities from coast to coast of this jewel, nestled in the hills a few miles north of the city.

Joseph was privy to most of the inner workings of the group having represented the owners for several years. Usually not one to delve into contract law, he made an exception because of the sensitive nature of the club’s business. He soon found it was only a small fraction of the work he did for the group, case in point, his recent representation of one of their subs for attempted murder charges.

Bumped into from behind by a bouncing cheering young woman, he scowled. With too long of a drive to go home now, he determined to deal with it as best he could—with alcohol. He shouldered his way through the throng with the taste for a bracing shot of scotch on his tongue.

“Joseph,” Rick called in greeting. “You look harried.”

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