Chapter 19

THE CRISP SOUND OF Tristan’s knock echoed through the hallway at precisely seven o’clock. She rushed to the door but forced herself to take a deep, calming breath before letting him in.

“I just have to grab my bag, and I’m ready to go,” she said in greeting.

With a slow, appraising glance, he took in her scoop neck, spaghetti-strap black dress. She had chosen it for its simplicity. The fabric draped nicely, highlighting her figure without being too revealing. But now she was having doubts.

“It’s too conservative, isn’t it?” she asked, smoothing the material in front.

“Tonight, dresses will range from gaudy to classy, and everything in between. As long as it’s black, you’ll fit right in.”

“I was going for the classy end of that scale.”

“Then you succeeded. Relax,” he urged. “You look amazing. LBD night is about music, dancing, fruity cocktails, and fun just like at any regular club.”

“Relaxing isn’t exactly my strong suit. Maybe you should tie me up first.”

She said it jokingly, but when his piercing blue-gray eyes locked with hers, he seemed deadly serious. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I’ll...um...just grab my purse.”

A swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach as she retraced her steps to her kitchen counter and grabbed her simple black clutch. Great day in the morning! Did she really just say what she said?

When she returned to him—shock of shocks without tripping and falling flat on her face—he offered her his hand. She accepted it and patiently waited as he set her alarm because, heading to the club as a full-fledged member on the arm of the hottest yet most exasperating man she had ever been out with, her hands shook too badly to do it herself.

She almost changed her mind, hesitating when he opened the door to his truck to help her in, and again when he started the engine. An image of herself bolting from the car and racing up the steps to lock herself in her condo while she packed and called a moving company to take her back to Iowa flashed in her mind. The sound of her mother’s saccharine-sweet, patronizing response as she returned home with her tail between her legs was as predictable as the sunrise. “Didn’t I tell you she’d be back, Earl?”

It was the only thing that stopped her, aside from Tristan, of course. Dressed in black from head to toe, he seemed taller, broader, and leaner. Memories of his lips on hers, his beard tickling her cheeks and the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and him driving her wild with passion, obliterated her recollection of everyone else.

Would he dance with her? Or maybe give an encore performance of last night? Or introduce her to another room upstairs and take her in his ropes? Craving it all, she didn’t hesitate any longer.

The line was out the door when they arrived, but being with an owner had its advantages. Tristan parked in a reserved section on the third floor of the garage and led her through a back entrance, down two flights of stairs, and into a space that felt more like a concert venue than a bar. It was hard to believe, but the room was overflowing with people, more crowded than the last time. Maybe the live band, flawlessly performing the latest Northern Exposure chart-topping hit, had drawn them in.

In fact, the lead singer looked exactly like—

She stood on her toes and shouted into Tristan’s ear to be heard. “That’s Gideon Eli!”

“I know. He’s a member.” His voice, a deep, resonant rumble easily cut through the din. He said it casually, as if a globally renowned rock band, the lead singer an icon, and an award-winning solo artist in his own right, performing in his club was nothing out of the ordinary. “Every few months, Gideon and the boys put on a show for us. You picked a good night.”

Piper gaped at the drop-dead gorgeous, talented man she’d been a fan of for years then did the math. Gideon Eli, her neighbor, and Josie, her new friend across the way, were into BDSM in one way or another. It seemed to be everywhere. “Is everyone in California kinky?”

“I don’t know about statewide, but LA is pretty much bent.”

She glanced up, thinking she heard him laugh, but he had his usual poker face on as he checked out the tables near the stage.

“There’s Val and company.” Taking her hand, he led her into the crowd.

“Shouldn’t we check in?” she asked, holding on tight and staying close.

“I’ll take care of it,” he called over his shoulder, or so she thought, his voice all but drowned out by a phenomenal guitar solo.

As she neared the table, a petite blonde stood up and waved her over.

“Piper, right?” she asked, shouting to be heard. “Take the seat next to me. Although on nights when Gideon Eli is singing live, we only sit between sets.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me he’d be here when you called!” she hollered back.

“I honestly didn’t know!” Val explained. “Eric always keeps it a secret, otherwise we’d have so many people packed in here the fire marshal would shut us down.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t already,” Tristan commented from behind her.

“That’s the truth,” she agreed, turning and giving him a little wave. “I’ll take good care of Piper, Master Tristan. You can go commune with the doms at the bar.”

Surprised she’d given him his walking papers so blatantly, Piper looked up to see his reaction.

He shook his head as if used to Val’s behavior. “She gets away with murder because she’s the master dom’s subbie wife.”

“Not true. Only on subs’ night off. Oops, I meant out,” she quickly corrected, although her mischievous grin proved her slip of the tongue wasn’t unintentional. “You can pick Piper up after the show, Master Tristan, sir,” she prodded him playfully, even gesturing with her hand to shoo him away.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” he muttered and disappeared into the crowd.

Impressed with her daring, Piper asked, “Do the rules not apply tonight?”

“They’re toned down immensely. Plus, we’re cut a little slack because we’re mostly drunk.” She reached for an empty glass and a pitcher. “Margarita? I’m on my second, so you need to catch up.”

“Thanks.” Piper only agreed to be polite. She loved the taste of margaritas, but they gave her terrible heartburn. Still, she accepted a glass, so she didn’t stick out in the group where everyone else had one.

The band played for another twenty minutes before announcing a break. They walked off stage to screaming and thunderous applause then the decibel level dropped, and those lucky enough to have a chair sat down.

“Let me introduce you to the girls,” Val said, pointing as she named a group of eight other women. She’d remembered Esmerelda, a stunning redhead who went by Esme. But after being introduced to Shannon, Gideon Eli’s wife, who wrote a book about her and her rock star husband’s tumultuous second-chance romance that was being made into a movie, she was so starstruck the rest of the names were a blur.

“So, Piper. Tell us about you and Master Tristan,” a short-haired brunette asked as she leaned forward, her chin in her hands. “He’s been on the most-wanted-but-least-attainable-dom list for as long as I’ve been coming here.”

“Oo, girl, yes,” the sub sitting next to her exclaimed. “Spill the tea about your hookup with Master Tristan. Inquiring minds need to know.”

Like all the women in the group, she was strikingly beautiful, with café au lait skin and long hair cascading down her back in dark, luscious waves. She wore lipstick in a deep shade of plum that fair-haired, pale-skinned Piper would kill to pull off.

A predatory smile suddenly curved her lips. “Lord knows I tried to connect with the rope master and failed epically.”

“Felicity! She’s new,” a petite blonde across from her scolded. “Do not inundate her with a flood of her man’s past peccadilloes. It’s the first night. You’ll scare her off.”

“Pecca what?” a few of them inquired, causing the rest to burst into laughter.

Piper knew what the word meant, and she was a hard pass. No way did she want to hear about Tristan’s past flings, possibly with some of the women sitting at the table.

“What did I tell you?” Val raised her glass. “They’re two sheets to the wind coming up on three after this pitcher. You’re likely to hear anything, but they’re harmless.”

“I’m not!” Felicity contradicted. “I demand details.”

“Why? To live vicariously through Piper?” a woman asked from the far end of the table.

It caught her off guard because, for the life of her, she couldn’t recall her being there during the introductions.

“Damn straight! Or did you not hear me say epic fail?” Felicity’s gaze shifted to Piper. There was a shift in her demeanor, with less bravado and an undertone of apology, suggesting that she had taken some of the criticism to heart. “I volunteered for a shibari demonstration about a year back. It was out of this world amazing. But being trussed up like a Christmas goose with a buzzing thing against my cooch was as far as it went. Promise.”

A forty-something woman who was such a dead ringer for Kim Kardashian, Piper had to do a double take to make sure she wasn’t, sighed. “That hardly sounds like a fail, dear Felicity. Any time I get a big O, even one mechanically induced, at my age, is an epic win.”

Titters of laughter erupted around the table, except for Felicity. Piper leaned forward to reassure her. “No worries, really. You don’t have to explain. We’re not exactly what I’d call together.”

Seated next to her, Esme overheard. “What would you call it?”

“Our status is complicated. Can I leave it at that?”

“No!” all of them chorused.

All except Val, who seemed to be the leader. “Yes, she can. Haven’t you all learned to butt out yet? What’s the rule?”

“No matchmaking?” the petite blonde grumbled.

“But we’re not,” Felicity insisted. “We’re investigating.”

“Why don’t we refrain from that, too? We already perform thorough security screenings on all our potential new members.” The new arrival who joined their discussion possessed an unmistakable air of authority and was none other than Master Eric. When Val smiled up at him, he leaned down and kissed her. Tongues were involved, it looked smoldering, and went on for a while.

When he straightened, he pulled Val to her feet and addressed the dreamy-eyed onlookers at the table. “Ladies, remember that gossiping is frowned upon just as much as matchmaking. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m stealing my wife away for a moment.”

The women watched as he walked away, several of them sighing longingly. They then resumed their conversation about people Piper didn’t know and topics that didn’t involve her. With nothing to contribute, she sat in silence, her drink untouched.

“Are you also a teetotaler?” Esme asked, sliding into Val’s empty chair, which was when Piper noticed she was very pregnant.

“To be honest, I don’t care for tequila. I’ll drink a glass of wine after work, but that’s my limit.”

“Oh, what do you do?”

“I’m an actress and a notary.”

“How diverse,” Esme observed, smiling.

Piper liked her instantly. “Isn’t it, though? A girl’s gotta pay the bills.”

“Have you been in anything I’d know?”

“Have you seen the commercial for laundry detergent where the dog hauls the woman through a ginormous puddle of mud?”

Esme’s lilting laughter rang out. “That was you?”

“Yep. I’m guilty of getting my whites whiter and keeping my colors springtime fresh. I’m also working on a new series that should be out this fall.”

“How exciting!” She raised her glass, which looked like ice water. “Here’s to it being a tremendous success.”

“I sure hope so.” Piper toasted in return but refrained from taking a sip. “I should go to the ladies’ room before the next set. Is there one nearby?”

Esme pointed to the back wall. “Through that door and down the hall.”

As she rose, the room erupted when the stage lights came on, and the band announced its return with a banging drum intro.

There was a lengthy line for the facilities. Once she returned to the lounge, the crowd had quieted to listen to an acoustic set. Rather than cause a disturbance weaving her way to the front, she found an empty spot on the wall and leaned against it. Gideon’s baritone and the guitar blended so beautifully, she closed her eyes to fully savor the moment.

“Piper. Is everything okay?”

Her eyes popped open at the urgency in Tristan’s voice. His frown, more concerned than his usual annoyed, touched her. She had to wonder if he was this attentive with every sub he was with, or was she becoming something more to him?

“I’m good,” she assured him. “I’ve been a Northern Exposure fan since high school. This has been a real treat.”

The tension in his face relaxed, and the frown almost disappeared. “Gid celebrated his fortieth birthday here last month. I won’t tell him you said that.”

“Knock me over with a feather! Do you actually know him?” She smacked her forehead, blushing at her fangirl reaction. “Of course, you do. He’s a member, and you’re an owner, duh.”

His lips twitched, and she thought he’d smile, but he once again disappointed her.

“I’ll introduce you after the show. Would you like me to help you get back to your seat? Getting through the maze of bodies takes practice, and I’ve had plenty.”

“I’m okay here. It was rather warm up front.” After hedging, she admitted, “To be honest, I think I’ve discovered I’m a little claustrophobic.”

“You’re also new and a little uncertain,” he astutely surmised.

“That too.”

“Excuse me, Master Tristan.” A nervous-looking young man in monochromatic black with a matching bow tie had materialized at his side, holding out a note. “Master Eric sent me with a message for you. He said it was important.”

“Does he require an answer?” Tristan asked, accepting the folded piece of paper.

“Uh...um...” he stammered, surprised by being questioned and suddenly as skittish as a cat. “He didn’t say, sir. And I didn’t ask. I’ll go do that now.”

“Never mind, Leo. You can get back to the show.”

“Thank you, sir.” He bowed slightly then bolted.

“He seemed scared to death,” Piper observed, watching his hasty retreat.

“Not scared as much as eager to please, and respectful, like most submissives.”

Another time, she would have laughed at his pointed remark. Was she the only one who dared to stand up to intimidating Master Tristan?

As he read the message, his undoubtedly infamous frown returned. He’d aimed it her way often enough, and she recalled why Leo and others quickly scurried out of his way.

“Trouble?”

“It’s work related.” He turned toward the seating area in the bar and scanned the tables as if looking for someone. “Come with me.”

She followed him, amused when he shooed a man out of a plush, oversized chair, and waved her into it. “This is Commander Dalton and his wife, Cassie.”

The couple on the love seat next to her chair nodded and smiled. They were fit and tan, with brilliant white teeth—California perfect like Malibu Barbie and Ken.

“Flynn, I hate to interrupt,” Tristan said, surprisingly polite. “I need to make a work call. Would you keep Piper company?”

“Certainly,” the dom replied. Up close, she could see tiny lines bracketing his eyes. It was the only thing that gave away his age, which she guessed was a few years older than Tristan.

“You shouldn’t be claustrophobic here,” he reassured her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He squeezed the back of her neck briefly before striding toward the door near the stage and disappearing inside.

“I’ve been coming here for three years and have never seen Master Tristan with his own submissive before. Have you been together long?” the pretty blonde asked as she leaned against her dom husband’s side.

“Oh, we’re not together,” she repeated for the second time in a half hour. “Not in the romantic sense, at least. I’m going to be his shibari model after he trains me.”

“Is that so?” the commander said, grinning.

Commander of what, she wondered. Was it a military title or a club honorific instead of sir or master? She was about to ask, which was probably rude, but the rules were lax tonight.

Before she had a chance, Master Eric joined them. “I find it interesting, too.” He settled into the chair across from Piper. It looked undersized compared to his powerful frame. Val, who was with him, took up residence in his lap.

“Have you enrolled in your introductory class?”

She nearly blurted out, “Class? What class?” but caught herself. That would have been rude, especially to the head dom in charge. “Excuse me?” she said instead.

“We offer classes for new members. They’re strongly recommended for new submissives and doms who don’t have an arrangement with a mentor. This was all spelled out in your approval letter.”

“I...uh...”

“Let me guess. You haven’t read it yet.” His head fell back, and he looked up at the ceiling, muttering, “Why do I even bother?”

Val patted his chest. “You only sent it out yesterday, master. There hasn’t been time for it to be delivered.”

“I also emailed it, as I believe I mentioned during our call,” he said pointedly to Piper when his gaze snapped back to hers.

“Forgive me. I was so excited about being approved I must not have heard that part.”

“It’s BDSM 101, essentially, and required for all novice members. It’s held twice a week for four weeks, at five right before the club opens.”

Shooting on her project started on Monday and ran until the director said cut.

He must have read her disappointment. “We’ll have a weekend class beginning next month if that doesn’t fit into your schedule. Until then, you can’t enter the playroom.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, completely deflated. The studio didn’t schedule weekend shootings, but there were deadlines to meet, so it wasn’t out of the question. “I guess I should have read the small print before signing.”

“I believe the rules state the class can be waived if a club dom in good standing signs off on training.” Tristan had returned. He placed his hand on her shoulder, his touch light and reassuring. It felt nice, and, to her surprise, it had an almost-instantaneous calming effect.

“I’m training Piper,” he announced to the group and anyone within earshot, his deep rumble carrying.

Heads turned, and several curious glances were directed their way, including Cassie and Val’s.

“You?” Eric and Commander Flynn asked simultaneously, both doms appearing stunned.

“I’ve done it before,” Tristan drawled, sounding slightly offended.

The master dom’s gaze shifted to Piper, assessing before returning to Tristan. “You have,” he allowed. “But other than for shibari, you haven’t taken on a newbie for quite a while.”

“I’m sure once he gets started, it will all come back to him,” Flynn interjected with an amused curve to his lips.

“Let’s go.” Still looking annoyed, Tristan grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the chair. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Flynn.”

“Not a problem,” the commander replied, as his grin broadened into a wide smile.

“Nice meeting you, Piper,” Cassie said, nudging her husband in the side with her elbow, which made him burst into laughter for some reason.

Even with her long legs, she had to rush to keep up with Tristan. It was a bit like running a race, and she’d be out of breath in no time. Still, she had to ask. “What was so funny?”

“My friends think they’re comedians. Ignore them.”

“Okay. But can I ask where we’re going?”

Tristan came to an abrupt stop in front of the dungeon doors and cursed under his breath. “I thought we could escape their bad stand-up comedy in the playroom, but you can’t after Margaritaville.”

“But I didn’t have any.”

His head swung her way, brows arched in question. “None?”

“Not a drop,” she confirmed. “Tequila isn’t my thing.”

“Good. We can start your lessons tonight,” he said, on the move again.

“We can?” she squeaked.

He held one of the giant doors open for her but caught her arm before she entered. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

Piper shook her head, the butterflies in her stomach taking flight again, both dreading and yearning for another scene with Tristan. Other basics, whatever they were, maybe not so much.

“I’m nervous, I’ll admit. But I can’t get the jail cell and what we did or rather, what you did to me, out of my head.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and his eyes were bluer than she’d ever seen them. He wanted this, too.

Piper relinquished her shoes and followed Tristan inside. The wall muted Northern Exposure’s rock sound, but with them still playing, the room was practically empty, and they had their choice of open stations.

Tristan didn’t hesitate on the steps. He descended quickly, with her rushing to keep up.

Halfway down the first row, he stopped an attendant. “If you’re not busy, would you grab my bag behind the bar and bring it to me at station 20?”

“Things are slow, Master Tristan. I’m happy to,” the uniformed older woman assured him.

He thanked her, pulling Piper along again. “You didn’t get to experience rope bondage last time. I can introduce you to a few basic ties tonight.”

When he stopped again at the end of the row, a wave of panic swept through her. “Yellow!”

He glanced down at her in shock. “What’s wrong? We haven’t done anything yet. Is it being on the main floor?”

She pointed at the giant wheel in front of her. “That’s gonna be a big, giant, flashing red for me, sir.”

“I didn’t forget you telling me that during your tour.” Tristan took her by the shoulders and turned her in the opposite direction toward an innocuous-looking padded table behind a red velvet rope.

“Oh.”

“Back to green?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry.”

“No apologies necessary.” He opened the velvet rope and let her enter ahead of him. “Clearly, you recall the club’s safewords and aren’t afraid to use them. That’s good. Don’t take on more than you can handle because you’re trying to be perfect or are afraid you’ll disappoint your top.”

She heard a soft cry and glanced across the nearly empty circuit to a woman, bound spread-eagle on a table similar to the one she stood beside. The reason for her cries was the hot wax being dripped all over her naked body.

“Piper? Are you listening?”

“Uh-huh,” she replied vaguely, wincing as a hot blob of purple wax landed on the sub’s nipple. She arched off the table as much as she could while restrained, letting out a loud hiss.

Tristan stepped in front of her and nudged her chin up. “I don’t speak just to hear myself talk. You need to pay attention.”

“Sorry, but...” She bent to the side to look behind him. “I think I found another flashing red.”

He did a quick about-face to see what she was referring to, in time to see the dom splash wax directly on her pussy.

Piper whispered, “That’s gotta hurt.”

Tristan took her by the shoulders and turned her to face their station. “Around here, it’s different strokes for different folks. You’re going to find many things that aren’t your cup of tea. Wax play for some is relaxing, to others it’s erotic, and, if the dom knows what he or she is doing, quite safe.”

“What if he doesn’t know what he’s doing?”

“That’s why we have demonstrations, training classes, club masters, and DMs to supervise, and safewords.”

“I’m afraid I might be using them a lot. Is there such a thing as overusing a safeword?”

“When you’re new and still exploring your boundaries, the answer is no. Once you gain experience, a dominant partner may encourage you to broaden your horizons because what was a firm no in the beginning may eventually turn into a maybe, or ultimately a yes.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever say yes to hot wax on my nipples.”

“But you’re okay with me binding you with rope and hanging you from the rafters. To someone else, that might be a hard limit.”

Unable to help herself, her gaze drifted to the chains, cables, and pulleys dangling from the ceiling two stories up.

Framing her face with both hands, he angled her face to his. “Focus, Piper. What I’m saying is that if you’re reluctant to try new things, you may miss out on something you really enjoy. But it’s important to remember you always have the choice. A safeword acts as a safety net, much like dialing 911 in an emergency. It’s there for you when you need it, but using it unnecessarily won’t earn you any points.”

“There are points?” she asked with a nervous giggle. Adding, “Are there also prizes?”

“Yes. Orgasms and spankings,” he quipped without missing a beat. “Smart-ass subs usually only get one of the two. I’ll give you a guess which it is.”

She didn’t need to guess, and, oddly enough, the idea of being over Tristan’s knee with his hand warming her bottom made her mind go blank when it came to safewords.

“I’m sorry. You’re being patient with me, even when I’m acting silly and asking a million questions. I get that way when I’m nervous, but I promise to behave—sir.”

“Mm-hmm. We’ll see.” He pulled her into the open area next to the table. “Lesson #1. Safety. You are my priority. I won’t take undue risks. I’ll respect your limits and will take every precaution. You have a role in it too. We call it active bottoming. I can’t read your mind, so I expect you to communicate and let me know if something is pinching, hurting, if you’re cramping up or getting numb. I’ll also expect you to be proactive in preventing injury by stretching before a session.”

Piper nodded. “I can do that.”

“We’ll do it together this time,” he insisted, taking a step back. “Gentle stretches starting with your neck then move down.”

She tilted her head from side to side, but he wasn’t happy with it.

“You want to put each joint through a full range of motion. Let me show you.”

He stood behind her, hands on her shoulders. Just that simple, nonsexual touch, his fingers rough from the ropes, gave her delightful shivers.

“Roll your neck in a circle, slowly. Feel the gentle pull in your neck muscles.”

Doing as he directed, she closed her eyes. Tristan’s voice, with its husky timbre, was mesmerizing as it wrapped around her.

“Good. Twice more.”

His fingers flexed on her shoulders. “You’re tight. Relax.”

Easy for him to say. Still, she tried as his fingers worked their magic, kneading her tense muscles and coaxing them to loosen under his skilled hands. Too soon, like all good things, it was over.

Moving to her arms, he encouraged her to reach and bend, stretching the muscles in her back and sides at the same time. When they moved to her lower back, he had her do lunges and easy toe touches. It felt fantastic, especially when he massaged away the knots that had formed from the constant stress and tension of the past few weeks.

Next, he pulled her down to the floor with him. “Lie on your side.”

She hesitated, conscious of her short dress with only skimpy panties underneath.

“The show hasn’t ended yet. There’s hardly anyone in here to see.”

Not yet. She didn’t think for a minute her clothes would stay on.

Piper did as he asked, and he guided her through a series of hip flexes and extensions. The intensity of his unwavering gaze and his hands on her inner thighs as he explained which muscles each stretch targeted, made for the most sensual and arousing warm-up session of her life.

“Rope bottoms often do yoga to stay limber.” Rising quickly to his feet, looking pretty flexible himself, he offered his hand and helped her up. “How do you feel?”

Turned the heck on was the first thing that came to her mind. Tristan’s undivided attention and intimate touch had ignited a fire inside her. If that was the warm-up, she couldn’t wait for the main event.

“Like a new woman,” she said instead.

“And we’ve only just begun.” He patted the table. “Hop on up.”

The attendant appeared at the edge of the station with a large black bag, having made record time. While she climbed up, Tristan went to retrieve it. He dropped it on the floor with a noticeable clink and crouched beside it, rummaging through as he spoke.

“Lesson #2. To be clear, BDSM stands for bondage and discipline, domination and submission, and sadism and masochism. From your reaction to the St. Catherine’s wheel, CBT, and the hot wax, I think it’s safe to say the last two aren’t your kink. That’s just as well because, while I can spank and flog as well as the next dom and will enjoy tying you in knots, pain for pain’s sake isn’t mine. We’ll focus on bondage, domination, and submission, discipline if needed, being open to softening limits as we explore.”

He rose with scissors and a length of rope in his hand, sliding the former into his back pocket as he approached.

“We covered several of the basics the last time—sensory reduction with the blindfold, sensory stimulation with the wand, and wrist restraints. You also got a reward. Let’s see if you can earn another tonight.” He set the coil of undyed rope beside her on the table. “The rope will snag your dress. It’s gotta go.”

She glanced behind him at the still-sparse crowd. Deciding to stop acting like a scaredy-cat when there was practically no one around, she raised her hands.

“There’s a brave girl,” he murmured, sliding the slippery material over her head.

His gaze skimmed her breasts, the nipples already tight peaks and his hand gently followed, tracing her curves and down her belly until it reached the bikini panties she had on.

“You can keep these for now. Lie back.”

The table felt cool against her warm skin, her body humming with desire from imagining all the wicked things he was about to do to her.

“Flip over, facing down,” he ordered further.

Flipping on the narrow table was easier said than done. She wiggled and squirmed and had to do some rearranging of her squashed boobs to get comfy. Once settled, she turned her head toward him, her hot cheek resting on the coolness of the leather as she watched him run the rope through his hands.

“For your wrists, I’ll use a simple double-column tie,” he explained as he wound the rope and created the knots that secured her arms behind her back. “I’ll repeat it on your ankles with a single tie just above your knees.” He moved down to her feet and got started. “Nothing too fancy tonight. I want you to get the feel for the ropes and the restriction.” Piper’s skin tingled wherever the ropes touched, but more so when Tristan’s fingers lightly brushed her as he tied each knot.

“I need you sitting up for this last part.”

Holy crud on a cracker. Did he think she was Houdini? She could barely maneuver on the table when she was free. Bound in three places and without the use of her hands, she’d surely take a header onto the floor. Her panic must have shown in her eyes.

“Easy. I’ll help.”

He slid an arm under her and easily lifted her upright. When he tipped her face up to him, he took a moment to brush the hair out of her eyes. She could get used to this gentle side of him.

“Remember, my priority in this is keeping you safe. How do you feel?”

“Like a pork roast. All we need is a side of applesauce.”

“A what?” he asked, startled.

Piper made a mental note to herself. In shibari, thinking before speaking is important. Blurting out the first thing that comes to mind, not so much.

Now she had to explain.

“A pork roast. You know, the kind wrapped in rope netting. Those suckers don’t come off without a fight.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Before he did, she noticed the blue in his eyes had become more pronounced and the lines bracketing them crinkled. It still wasn’t a smile, but she’d take it.

With a hand on her constantly, he rounded the table and stood behind her. In minutes, he wound another length of rope around her chest, above and below her breasts, then knotted it in the back.

“This is called a shinju , which is basically a chest harness. Their complexity can range from simple to elaborate. Tonight, again, nothing fancy until we pull it all together.”

He laid her facedown, and, as he did, she felt a tug on the ropes around her wrists and thighs. He connected the two, causing her back to arch, lifting her chest slightly off the table. Although it was an awkward position, it brought her flattened breasts sweet relief. With another tug, this time on her ankles and the knots at her back, Tristan bound them together, so that now, the soles of her feet pointed toward the ceiling.

“One last thing.” He ran his hand down the length of her hair, fingers combing gently. “I have a slight obsession with long hair. Perhaps it’s because I lack it myself. Yours, with its blend of gold and honey blonde in the waves, is stunning and I can’t resist.”

He deftly braided her hair, fastening it with a knot that he tethered to her bound feet as well. Now all she could do was wiggle her fingers and toes. Helpless and at his mercy, her heart raced. The vulnerability she felt would have been scary if it weren’t for the power of a single word and her trust in him to honor it.

Piper heard his footsteps on the tiled floor, his hand grazing her body as he circled the table.

“Is anything pinching or too tight?”

She had to gather her thoughts before responding. It seemed like every inch of her was alive with sensation. Certainly, the position was unusual, but from the steady tug on her hair to the snugness of the ropes coiled around her, and the slight roughness against her skin, nothing was overly uncomfortable.

Without thinking, she shook her head and yelped, more from surprise than pain, at the more forceful pull on her hair. Even that slight movement tugged her ankles, which pulled on her wrists with everything interconnected.

At the end of the table, Tristan halted and rested on his forearms, bringing himself eye to eye with her. Despite the predicament she found herself in, she couldn’t ignore the transformation. His face, usually etched with a grumpy frown, now radiated an openness and animation that she hadn’t seen since the night of the demonstration. And, heaven help her, it made him even more attractive.

“Did I mention you should try not to move?”

“I kinda guessed that,” she said, eyes fixed on his. “That was on reflex. I’m literally in knots because of you.”

The lip twitch happened again. So close!

“We have another name for this position. You might be familiar with it.”

“Oh?”

“Did you have livestock on your farm in Iowa?”

“Yes. Cows, chickens, horses, and—” It finally hit her, and she gasped. Dear heavens, he didn’t actually...

“You’re in a hogtie, sweet Piper. Only it’s shibari-style, and you look absolutely stunning.” Her breath caught in her throat when he leaned in and his lips brushed hers. “Are you ready for what comes next?”

“You mean there’s more?” What else could he possibly tie? Her eyelashes?

He stood up and moved out of her line of sight. His laughter, a deep, resonant sound, enveloped her. It was exactly as she had imagined—wonderful. It also came with a twinge of disappointment. Since she hadn’t seen him do it, she’d missed his smile.

She couldn’t bask in it for long, however. Not expecting it, she let out a yelp of alarm when he flipped her onto her side. But he soothed her with his touch, lightly stroking her cheek before exploring further.

His fingers trailed over her breasts and down her belly. When they reached the juncture of her legs, he didn’t hesitate before slipping his hand under the band of her panties and dipping two fingers into the warm, wet place in between. The rope around her thighs made it a snug fit, but he quickly located her clit. In a state of arousal since he’d said, “Hop on up,” she almost flew off the table.

“Easy,” he whispered, as he bent and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking as he played with her bound body. While continuing to tease her clit with his thumb, he glided two fingers into her center. Piper frantically moved her hips, seeking more, as Tristan moved to the other breast and the other hard nipple. He swirled his tongue around the tip before sipping it between his lips.

He didn’t linger long. With an impatient groan, he stood, and she heard his zipper.

“Tonight, I’m not being noble and waiting.” With his erect, latex-covered cock heavy in his hand, he brushed the tip over her lips.

When she eagerly opened, he slid his length along her tongue. Piper sucked greedily, but that’s about all she could do or pull her hair out. He understood this and cupped the back of her head, holding her still as he pumped slowly in and out of her mouth. And the whole time, his fingers never ceased playing with her pussy.

Everything about it, the ropes, his touch, the taste of him—cherry was unexpected—and their shared passion brought her quickly to the brink of ecstasy. She tried to wait for him to catch up, but his intimate touch sent waves of pleasure rippling through her. She tried to keep up her end, sucking between gasps, but she couldn’t, and she came, her moans muffled by his cock.

As her body trembled and shuddered, he withdrew with a guttural groan, replaced her mouth with his hand, and quickly finished himself into the condom the club rules required him to wear.

Lost in the moment, neither noticed that the live music had ended, and the playroom had filled up or that they’d drawn a crowd until an observer called, “Nothing like a happy ending to an excellent hogtie, Master Tristan.” Some laughed, and many applauded, while others murmured their approval.

Piper looked up at Tristan, his wide eyes reflecting her own shock at the powerful connection they shared so that everything else blurred into the background.