Page 20 of Dance for Me

“I’m doing lines?”

“As many as you can manage in the next half hour,” he confirmed. “There is to be no talking, no fidgeting, no bathroom breaks or stalling. Pen to paper, darlin’.”

“I thought...”

Braun waited patiently. Struggling to form whatever she wanted to say, she had the look of a small, lost child. For a woman who could switch from raging Amazon to hesitant female in seconds, she sure was cute as a damn button.

“I thought you’d hit me,” she mumbled.

“Punishment comes in many forms, Bodie. Spankings, floggings, canings, whippings. But sometimes the crime doesn’t fit the implement. A clever and creative Dominant will use all the resources in his possession to reprimand his submissive accordingly.” He flicked his fingers toward the pad and pen. “Until you open yourself to the possibility you’re submissive, I can’t chastise you as one, Bodie. So, no spankings.”

She picked up the pen, tapped it agitatedly on the pad.

“When you’re ready, you can begin.” Braun’s lips twitched as she continued to look conflicted. But he stood by his decision—until Boadicea explored herself and her desires, until she made the choice to open herself to new things, he wouldn’t lay a hand on her.

Well, not in chastisement, anyhow.

He’d be lucky to wrestle his control into any kind of order if she stayed working at the club for any length of time. That lush mouth of hers called to him, teasing him to taste those lips and see just how fucking sweet they were.

The pen scratched over paper.

Braun noted the time then turned his attention to his computer. Thirty minutes gave him enough time to go through the liquor order for Monday’s delivery, and if Bodie followed his terms of punishment, she wouldn’t make a peep until he called time.

For ten minutes there was only the clack of the keyboard keys and the occasional trill of his phone. Nothing urgent, but he was pleased when Atticus messaged to confirm his and Loki’s mission was complete. There was only Connie left to arrive and his plans for the evening would be ready to go.

The first sign of her itching to test his rules was the soft huffs and long sighs. Technically not violating his no talking rule but close enough he slid his eyes toward her.

She wrote quickly, neatly, but her eyes kept flicking toward him as though willing him to take the initiative and speak before she did. Her huffs grew louder, more frequent, when he ignored her and resumed his work.

He finished the liquor order, then switched to his emails and responded to a few inquiries about membership, then opened the private folder he kept hidden on his computer. His secret folder for the idea he’d had in mind for a while but kept mulling over.

Expanding Avalon was always at the forefront of his mind. Membership was better than good—the club had a good ratio of Doms to submissives, experienced members and novices. Braun strived for quality over quantity, and aside from the odd fuckwit like Jacob sneaking in despite all the precautions Braun took, he felt he’d succeeded in making Club Avalon become a home to many in the kink community. A safe place, where everyone who genuinely held a love of the lifestyle was welcome.

Financially, he was running in the black. Even after taking a wage for himself and paying Liam a hefty whack for his part in making Avalon what it was, even after the fucking extortionate taxes, the club was turning a profit and Braun had the resources to grow his empire just a little more.

The question was, with what?

He’d given serious thought to adding on a restaurant-type building. There was enough space between barns two and three to slot in an additional building, joining the entrance onto the walkway. Just a small affair, something intimate and cozy.

Members would be able to have dinner before relaxing in the social area for a time, then moving on to scening. It would’ve come in handy this afternoon for feeding the little waif currently scowling at her task.

Of course, a restaurant meant sourcing staff—there was the matter of a good chef, kitchen and front of house workers—and anyone he hired needed to go through the same strict protocols as any member, not to mention had to be kink-friendly.

It upped the game considerably and he wasn’t sure it was worth the headache, in all honesty. He could just as easily put the money toward an indoor pool or build a specific area for the...wetter activities such as blood play and watersports.

Reading the notes he’d already made, he began adding to them. When his screen began to judder and vibrations hummed through the keyboard, he scowled over at Bodie, who looked far too innocent for her own good. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was kicking his desk. Not hard, just enough to annoy.

If she wasn’t careful, her bid for attention was going to work too well—and once she had his complete focus, she might well wish she’d sat quietly and concluded her timeout in the spirit with which he’d intended.

Without a blisteringly sore bottom.

Braun continued to ignore her, intrigued as to whether she would escalate her attempts to brat or remember where she was and who with—he was damn sure once she got an eyeful of how a real subbie was dealt with, she’d remember just fine.

Nine minutes left.

The kicking grew faster, a bit harder, but the innocent expression didn’t change and neither did the speed at which she dutifully scribbled down her lines.

His cell phone bleated, saving Braun from reaching over the desk, hauling Bodie onto his lap, and paddling her insolent behind until her squeaks and squeals of protest turned into moans and tears. He answered the call, pulling up his screensaver as he said, “Fitzpatrick.”

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