Page 30 of Disgrace

“Grace?”

The voice isn’t as deep as I remember, but still, the timbre turns my stomach. I fix my smile, fix my mask. I’m not Grace. I’m not Sam. Here I am Mistress Selina. I turn and straighten my shoulders. I stand, my five foot ten, and in six-inch heels, ensuring we are eye level. His eyes flash with uncertainty but only for an instant. His thin lips sneer, distorting his face into something less than human, something evil. That look I do remember.

“Not for averylong time.” My icy demeanour is reflected in my tone.

He thinks I am pausing to maybe remember what to call him but I am quiet because I notice for the first time the woman on her knees bent over by his feet. A long chain fixed around a cheap dog collar one end and the other gripped in his fist.

“You may call me Master Alpha,” he sneers and tugs at the chain. The woman whimpers, and I get a sharp burn of acid in my chest.

“Hmm, not in here,Dick,” I muse. He flinches at the abbreviation of his name. He always hated it, not that I ever dared to call him that in the past, but some of his friends would, just to rile him. I draw on every ounce of strength my costume and alter ego affords and hold my coiled whip under his chin. He tips his head a little, and I fix him with my most hate-filled stare. His eyes widen, and he stiffens at the contact. “You’re in my playground now,Dick,and you get to call me Mistress.” I turn toward the bar. Leon is still at my side and Marco pales significantly at the volatile situation unfolding. I smile at him and wink to try and reassure him. I have no intention of creating more of a scene; we already have enough curious eyes focused on us. I just won’t allow him to affect me. He is nothing to me, and I bask in this revelation. “Marco, make sureDickgets a glass of champagne on me, and that his companion gets the whole bottle. I’d like to make sure she has at least one pleasurable experience this evening.” My smile is sweet with the perfect mix of saccharin and vitriol.

Richard purses his lips, the muscles in his jaw bubble under hismanscapedblond stubble. His pale blue eyes darken with fury, but he accepts the offered flute. I step up to him, and he pauses for a moment but steps aside. I wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t see the fierce beat of my heart pounding against the skin-tight cat suit. The platform walkway from the bar is clear and I slowly walk toward the exit, Leon is at my side, his fingers twitch to reach for mine but he doesn’t. I can feel the eyes of the room. I almost make it to the curtained doorway…almost. Richard’s voice booms across the room.

“Do you still blush when you are fucked in front of an audience?” I freeze. “Do you still scream for mercy when you take it in the arse?” I turn slowly. He raises his glass and tips to take a sip, his expression full of malice. I shouldn’t be surprised. He was never going to make it easy for me. He never had the whole time we were together. Why would he change that now just because I have?

And I have changed.

I sigh and drop my hip in amused annoyance. I tap my lip as if wondering how to respond. My right hand gips my six-foot bull whip. I know exactly how I’m going to respond. I slowly sashay back along the walkway. I stop when he speaks again.

“You may think you are some sort of big deal,Selena,but face it…you’re just a whore.” This last word is drowned by the sonic crack from the tail end of my whip. Followed almost instantly by his curse and the shattering of his glass. His shocked eyes focus on the large bubble of blood coming from the knuckles on this hand where my aim has sliced his skin. It was a stupid move in such a confined space but I was confident in my skill and the area was clear. It had to be done. I’ll gladly take the consequence for breaking this club rule. Just looking at the surprise on Richard’s face is reward enough but I get a real surge of warmth that comes from retribution. It might not be much, but I made that bastard bleed.

I crack the whip once more with a showy Tasmanian cut back, which loops and cracks loud just behind me. It is perfect for garnering the attention of my target and the entire room. I stride right up to him, he takes a step back, and I snicker and raise a brow. He steps forward but too late for his error to go unnoticed. Perfect. We are nose-to-nose, I grab his chin and crush my mouth to his. His lips soften, and he groans, leaning into me, but I hold his distance with my grip. His urgent tongue is hungry for more, and when I pull back he almost falls forward chasing my lips. His eyes are liquid fire, his need and desire as transparent as the glass I have crushed beneath my boots. His chest heaves to calm his breathless state.

“I may be a whore…but I will never beyourwhore.” I pat his cheek, my tone is laced with condescension. “But you,Dick…youwill always be my bitch.”He stumbles back, his eyes narrow, but he is silent. He looks around, noticing for the first time the enraptured audience. He roughly pulls his companion to her feet and marches away, through the curtained entryway and hopefully out of my life. Around us, the room resumes its normal level of noise and activity, but I remain transfixed on the doorway. Leon sweeps me into his arms and hugs me tight.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit. Sam, that was…shit, I am so fucking hard.” He slides me down his body to let me feel the evidence of his statement. His mischievous grin eases the weight of the tension coursing through my veins. I slap him on his chest but wince when he flinches. He will be raw under his shirt, and I didn’t mean to hurt him…not this time at least. I mouth ‘sorry’ but he shrugs it off.

“You are so not the only one, Leon.” Marco lets out an exaggerated groan and visibly adjusts himself.

“Because that was my main objective, to give you two hard-ons.” I sniff and stretch my neck, the last bit of tension leaving my body with a pop. I slide back on to my stool and lay the whip on the bar. “I’ll have a glass of that, Marco…now the bottle’s open,” I smirk.

“I would say, hard-ons aside, you more than fulfilled your objective.” Leon wraps a protective arm around me, as he was unable to do so earlier for fear of highlighting any vulnerability I was absolutely feeling. “Proud of you, babe.” He kisses my hair, and I can feel his wide smile against my head. It must mirror mine.

“I’m proud of me.” I reach for the glass; all eyes take in my shaking fingers. I let out a deep breath, the adrenaline still making my poor heart race and causing havoc with my nerves, now that I don’t have to hold my emotions in check. I tip the flute back and down the entire glass. Fuck sipping, I’d be mainlining this if I could. Leon and Marco chuckle, and a calm settles over me as the liquid works its magic. “I doubt he’ll come back, but I’m happy I can deal if he does. No more hiding.”

Leon raises his glass, and with a pointed stare, he raises a toast.

“I’ll drink to that, no more hiding.” I close my eyes, acknowledging the portent of his words. No more hiding from Jason. He deserves to know the truth.

“Fuck! Fuck!” I end my call to Leon. I know it’s nobody’s fault. The computers are down, but I had banned that fucker the day after Sam told me who he really was. And now he is there…with her. I need to leave.

“Problem?” Daniel raises his brow. Our meeting had just started, but I slip my phone in my pocket and grab my suit jacket from the back of my chair, eager to leave.

“The club,” I reply. He stands as I head to the door. “Sam’s ex just showed up, and because the computers are down, he got in. I’ve only just found out, because I set up an independent alert direct with the server, but Sam wouldn’t have got her normal notification, and she’s there now. I have to go.”

“Of course.” Daniel gives a tight nod and follows me through the door. “I’m sure Sam can handle herself.” His tone is calm, and I can only hope his confident assertion is correct. I am well aware of the image she portrays, but I also know the fragile foundation it is built on. I shake my head.

“I’m not so sure. You have no idea what he did to her.” My voice trails, and I can feel anger heat my veins.

“Go, we’ll sort the rest tomorrow.” We walk along the corridor, but it takes a moment to register what he said.

“The rest?” My mind is very much elsewhere.

“The meeting?” he clarifies with a curious raised brow.

“Oh yes, sorry, Daniel. My head isn’t here.” I shrug, but I am more worried about getting to Sam than discussing tomorrow’s agenda.

“Obviously. Do I need to be concerned, Jason? You know our baby is due any day now, so I won’t be around.” If he is really concerned it is far from evident in his tone, and his face is ever impassive.

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