Page 49 of Compelled Obedience

“Whew. You really know how to pick them.” Lachlan shook his head. “They’re bad news even in my world.”

“You mean your father’s world, or do you need to share something with us? Going back to your crime syndicate ways?”

He shook his head. “I’m serious. If she’s caught in something with them, stay away. That’s the best advice I can provide.”

“Yeah, well, not the kind of advice I need.”

Jameson eased onto the edge of my desk. “Then what is?”

I almost felt embarrassed mentioning it. I’d been involved in the world of BDSM for two decades to some degree, yet I’d never needed to train a submissive. The few I’d enjoyed, including Elizabeth, already had a penchant for the lifestyle.

“Spit it out, bro,” Lachlan encouraged, the damn twinkle in his eye annoying.

After tossing back half my drink, I rubbed my jaw with my other hand. What I wanted I wasn’t entirely certain was something I could have, but I’d sensed Kerri’s desire to learn more about what I do and the lifestyle. My cock was tightening just thinking about the possibilities. “So, what’s the best way to handle training a woman into becoming a submissive?”

CHAPTER 13

Kerri

Tonight you are Star Angel, a cage dancer, not Kerri Bettington. Tonight you will conquer the cold steel, grabbing hundreds of dollars in tips. You will dance your ass off, providing the kind of show your boss approves of and asks you to work additional shifts.

And you will avoid Grant Wilde at all costs.

As I walked into the club through the employees’ entrance, my throat tightened even after issuing the mantra for the third time. I was well aware the man prowled both clubs like a protective lion. I couldn’t blame him, but with the injury still evident on my face, I needed to be extra careful. At some point the highly intelligent man was going to figure out my secret.

I’d debated coming to work at all. With the threat remaining in the forefront of my mind, I only hoped that Grant’s warning had bought me a little time. If I earned additional tips tonight, maybe I could spring for a couple of days in a motel if necessary.

Then what, girl? How are you going to work?

The little voice inside my head had countered every idea I’d come up with. I was stuck. If I wanted Casey to continue going to school, I’d need to work. If I wanted us to eat, I’d need to work. While I had a couple of sick days left at my teaching job, I couldn’t afford to waste them. When my little brother went into his dark phases, which thankfully only happened once in a blue moon, I was almost always forced to take off a minimum of three days to be with him.

I hustled into the changing room, glad this was a free for all costume night instead of being themed. That would allow me to dress as provocatively as possible while hiding my face almost completely.

The other three girls were already inside changing. While I wasn’t here to make friends, it seemed the girls had already formed a clique and I was the last woman standing. That was just dandy by me.

“I think he’s sexy as hell,” one girl said with a lust-filled tone.

“I’d certainly fuck him,” another girl stated.

“Yeah, but that’s against the rules.”

My ears perked up. They were talking about Grant. While it shouldn’t bother me, it did. I smashed the metal door to my locker against another one, cursing under my breath. They laughed as if realizing their conversation irritated me. Then one of the girls cleared her throat.

“I heard she’s some kind of schoolteacher,” one whispered but I heard the words.

I resisted saying a damn thing to them. My anger had remained just under the surface since the incident in the alley. With the Latin blood from my mother, I had the ability of flying off the handle easily, but I’d learned to control my temper over the years.

Mostly.

I snickered remembering the last girl who’d dared make fun of me a few years before. She’d run away in tears from my ugly words alone. I tossed my purse, filtering through the various costumes I’d been provided already, hurriedly selecting a combination of a she-devil with a very dark mask that would manage to hide the area across my cheekbone.

As I ripped off my jeans, struggling into the sexy boy shorts, the girls continued whispering loudly from behind me.

“Yeah, and she lives in a shit part of town. A dirty girl.”

I wasn’t entirely certain which girl had made the lewd comment and I shouldn’t care, but I was itching to start a fight. Or maybe I needed to find another way of releasing my rage.

By the time I had the top on, my nerves were shot from their ridiculous giggling alone. What was this, high school? Granted, they were several years younger, barely able to meet the minimum drinking age, but they were still considered adults.

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