Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

LANDON

T hank God for the vast expanse and thick crowd separating them. Clarissa still hadn't spotted him from across the balcony that circled the second floor and overlooked the pit below. Landon watched as the club's manager pulled her aside for a moment. He could see her face, and she was clearly shocked by whatever Mitch had said to her. Probably a similar warning to the one he'd given Landon a short time ago—get into a shouting match with his ex-wife in the middle of the club or cause any other chaos, and he'd be banned from The Covenant.

Damn, Clarissa looked gorgeous. She always had and always would, in his opinion. He'd already seen some of her earlier movies before working on their first production together and thought she was a phenomenal and stunning actress. Pictures of her on screen, the internet, and the front covers of tabloids in the market checkout aisles never did her justice. One needed to be in her presence to see and appreciate Clarissa James's beauty. The woman lit up an entire room whenever she walked in. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never heard her act snobbish or be mean to anyone, including the paparazzi and blue-collar workers she came across, as some other celebrities could. Of course, if someone gave her a valid reason to be pissed, she would unleash the hounds of hell on them—himself included. But it was rare for that side of her to emerge. The public adored her, and she always remembered where she came from and how she'd once been a small fish in the huge ocean that was Hollywood. Landon had seen her take several actors and actresses under her tutelage and mentor them, asking for nothing else in return but hard work and for them to pay it forward. In fact, she'd served on the Screen Actor's Guild board for several years and was still active in numerous charities that she'd been involved in long before Landon met her. She was the most generous and humble woman he'd ever known, except when it came to him as of late. Hopefully, he could change that tonight.

While she always insisted she didn't remember it, Clarissa and Landon were introduced at a big gala before working together. Granted, at the time, hundreds of people were at the event, and she'd already been a well-known starlet while he'd still been struggling to climb the ladder of Hollywood success stories. It was another two years before they found themselves on the set of My Someday and fell in love during the course of filming what would become an award-winning movie. It'd been a whirlwind romance, and Landon was grateful for every second of his life that he'd spent with her. If only he could get them back on track so they could have many more wonderful years together.

From where he stood near the entrance to the new lush garden play area, Landon's gaze dropped below Clarissa's neck as she gaped at Mitch walking away. She wore an outfit he'd never seen on her before. A sparkling gold corset pushed her breasts in and up, making his mouth water. The material between the steel bones was fishnet, while the sweetheart neckline, hook eye closure in front, and lace-up back fully showed off the curves of her bust and waist. She'd paired it with a tight, leather skirt that was so short, it was almost indecent—well, anywhere other than at a fetish club. Her luxurious dark brown locks were up in a French braid, which had his hand itching to grab it, wrap it around his wrist, and take full control of her.

It always amazed him how they both participated in the lifestyle before they met, but it wasn't until then that he'd found the ideal submissive to match his dominant nature. Several weeks into their relationship, she told him she felt the same way—as if they were two halves of a whole who'd finally come together as one. By the end of their first date, Landon had known she was the woman he wanted to spend his life with. In fact, he'd told her that after their third date. But she'd been wary, having long been exposed to the liars, social climbers, and drama that sullied the celebrity world, and it had taken her about fifteen weeks of them dating before confessing her true feelings toward him.

Six months after the production of My Someday had wrapped up, Landon finally got the courage to propose, and because of her original reluctance to reveal that she loved him, her response shocked him. "What took you so long?"

Now, she joined a few friends by the bar while Landon hid in the shadows where he'd been lurking for the past twenty minutes, trying to avoid being noticed by any of her friends who would run and alert her to his presence. He didn't want her to know he was there for the Spectacular until it was too late for her to back out. The hands of Fate had been kind to him the last time, but the results had been disastrous. Hopefully, he'd be given a second chance with the one woman who would always own his heart.

A half hour ticked by slowly as he nursed a ginger ale he'd gotten from a new waitress he'd never met before. All the staff members, except the bartenders, security guards, and Dungeon Masters, were submissives. The owners allowed them to work off part of their membership fees, which many couldn't afford otherwise. Aside from the wait staff, they could also work at the desk in the lobby or in the club's boutique that sold fet-wear and every kink toy imaginable. There was also a new childcare facility at the other end of the club's parking lot for members with infants and toddlers. Apparently, that was a popular job among many of the submissive employees. Mitch had a rotating schedule, so everyone who wanted to could get a chance to spend time with the kids.

While replacing his empty glass several times, the attractive server with a blonde pixie-cut hairstyle flirted with him. In another life, he probably would have been interested in playing with her. Instead, he let her down easy, telling her he wouldn't be available to play after the event was over, which coincided with the end of her shift.

Finally, there was a buzz among the members as they started moving downstairs toward the center of the pit, where the slot board awaited on the round, elevated stage used for events, demonstrations, and collaring ceremonies. Landon waited until Clarissa descended the grand staircase before following and working his way through the crowd. He and the other Doms would line up on one side of the stage while the submissives would be on the other.

It took a few minutes to get through the crowd of observers, and he'd just joined the group of participating Doms when Clarissa glanced over. She froze as she stared at him. Shock and anger flared in her cappuccino-brown eyes as her jaw clenched. Oh, yeah, she was pissed.

He could tell she was about to explode, but then Ian Sawyer stopped beside her, leaned over, and whispered something in her ear before his threatening gaze shot to Landon. Whatever he'd said had Clarissa's back straightening and her chin rising. She refused to look at Landon again as Mistress China, one of the club's Whip Masters, climbed onto the stage to emcee the event.

Once Ian finished speaking to Clarissa, he strode across the room and stood against a support pillar near the Doms, scowling at Landon as he passed. Yup, the man would lose his shit tonight if anything or anyone disrupted the event, even though Landon had cleared everything with all three owners after putting a plan together. Now, he just had to get lucky and pull Clarissa's name from the bucket.

Mistress China picked up a handheld microphone and raised her hand, drawing everyone's attention. There was standing room only since all the seating areas surrounding the stage were occupied. "Welcome to The Covenant's Slot Scene Spectacular!"

Whistles, cheers, and applause erupted from the crowd, silencing the Domme until the din died down again.

"I'm honored to have been chosen to be your emcee tonight, and hopefully, my name won't be pulled out of the hat for at least another five years." Chuckles came from the crowd. "Anyway, it's our sixth time playing this popular naughty game of chance here at the club, and we're all thrilled you've come to enjoy the event with us again. Whether you're here as one of our brave participants"—she gestured toward the Dominants on one side and then the submissives on the other—"or you're just here to watch and enjoy the show, we hope you have an amazing time. Don't forget to check out the silent auction for charity and the catered food in the garden between your more voyeuristic adventures. Now, let the games begin!"

When another loud cheer exploded from the attendees, Mistress China scowled at them, drawing more laughter before everyone settled down again. The attractive, petite Asian-American woman, whose real name was Charlotte Roth, wore a black catsuit with high-heel, over-the-knee boots. Outside of The Covenant, the Domme was a parole officer, and the job fit her tough-as-nails attitude and persona, even though she could be a mother hen regarding the club's submissives.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to interrupt, you naughty little voyeurs. Tsk, tsk." A sadistic grin accompanied her playfully annoyed stare as she wagged her pointer finger at the audience before gesturing to Landon and the other fourteen Dominants at the bottom of the stairs. "Let's see if our Doms for the evening can behave better. Come up and join me on the stage to find out what order you'll draw for your submissive tonight!"

One by one, the Doms drew popsicle sticks from Mistress China's clenched fist. From experience, Landon knew it would take about a half hour for every Dom to pull a name from the bucket and then drop a chip to learn what type of play their scene would be. Master Mitch stood near the slot board with a few papers, listing each participant's red limits. If the chip fell into an activity that either the Dom or sub refused to do, the Dom would drop it again.

A few minutes later, he stood near the end of the line, having drawn the popsicle stick with the number thirteen written on it with a black marker. Thirteen had always been lucky for him, and he hoped that luck held tonight. Now, he just had to pray Clarissa wasn't paired up with anyone before his turn to draw a name rolled around.

CLARISSA

No, no, no, and fuck no!

This couldn't be happening. As the great Yogi Berra once said, it was like déjà vu all over again. Why the hell was Landon at the club when he was supposed to be in New Mexico? And why hadn't anyone told her he'd signed up for the same event so she could have backed out in time?

Mitch and Ian!

Those fuckers had known! Of course, they had since Master Mitch had been the one to finalize the list of participants. That's why he'd pulled her aside earlier and given her that warning and why Master Ian had whispered a reminder of that seconds after she spotted Landon standing with the other participating Doms. From across the room, she frowned at the head Dom, but all he did was glare back at her before shifting his gaze to the stage. She tried to give Master Mitch a dirty look, but he was paying attention to Mistress China as she instructed Dom #1 to join her and draw a piece of paper from the bucket she now held.

Okay, don't panic. What were the odds of being paired with Landon again? One in fifteen. Surely, I can't get that unlucky twice, right?

Her gaze roamed the other participating Dominants. Sure enough, she recognized the three Doms from Club X and Club Domain who'd just joined The Covenant. As Shelby had said, they were "dreamboats." Each was handsome and pure alpha male, with good reputations at the other clubs, and she wouldn't mind being paired with one of them. Hell, she'd take on all of the Doms waiting in line, as long as it wasn't Landon.

A buzz of excitement came from the crowd, but against her will, Clarissa's mind zoned it out, along with the other participating Doms. Everything and everyone else ceased to exist at the moment except for the one man she hadn't expected to see tonight. The one man who was still the sexiest one she'd ever known—the one who'd claimed her heart and then shredded it with his indiscretion.

Damn it. Why was he here with his heated gaze roaming up and down her body from across the room? And why was her body reacting to him? It still ached for him after all this time. Her heart still loved him even though he'd broken it. Her mind though . . . her mind was stubborn, and there was no way in hell she would give him the satisfaction of knowing the rest of her wanted him.

Landon stood six feet even, with long legs, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist. At forty-six, he was two years older than her, but he'd aged like a fine wine with little effort. His salt-and-pepper hair was styled like it'd been for as long as she'd known him—neat and trim, except for a slight cowlick on the left side above his eyebrow. It always wanted to go in a different direction than the rest of his hair—something that drove him nuts, but she found it endearing.

Ugh . Not anymore, she tried to convince herself. There shouldn't be anything endearing about the man who'd cheated on her with a cheap, floozy actress-wannabe. Ivy Green couldn't act her way out of a paper bag! And great. Now Clarissa was using one of Landon's favorite snubs for actors who took forever to get a scene perfect enough for his approval. She would never insult a fellow actor like that out loud, but in her head, she had numerous choice words to describe the woman who'd fucked Landon despite the wedding band on his finger.

She couldn't see Landon's eyes right then due to distance and the lighting in the club, but since he wore chocolate-brown leather pants and a matching vest without a shirt, she knew what color his irises were. Unless he wore something green, his hazel eyes glimmered like polished amber. When they'd been a couple, she could get lost in those eyes for hours at a time.

One by one, the participating submissives's names were called, and they each stepped onto the stage to join the Dom they'd scene with that night. They then discovered what their first play activity would include when the chip bounced and finally fell into a slot on the board. Some of the subs squealed with delight if they liked the scene announced, while a few groaned in frustration. So far, only one Dom had to drop the chip a second time because it initially fell into a slot labeled as a red limit for the submissive. And with every new pairing, Clarissa's anxiety began to rise—her name still hadn't been called, and the line of Dominants was dwindling. There were two more to go before it was Landon's turn to draw a name from the bucket to find out which submissive was his for the evening.

Her heart pounded in her chest as butterflies took flight in her stomach. She silently begged the gods of Fate not to do this to her again. If she were paired with Landon, she would only have two choices—leave and lose her membership to the best BDSM club around or spend the next few hours scening with her ex-husband. Not an easy choice, in her opinion.

While she had houses or apartments in other cities around the world and belonged to private BDSM clubs near each, her home in South Tampa was her favorite and where she spent most of her free time.

"Master Landon, you're . . . uh, it's your turn!" Mistress China called out hesitantly, catching Clarissa's attention. The usually unflappable Domme had apparently just noticed the former spouses were both participating in the event and still unpaired with anyone else.

Oh, God. This isn't good. Clarissa glanced at the two other remaining submissives. One she recognized, but her brain was such a mess she couldn't recall the woman's name if her life depended on it right then. And she had no idea who the other woman was—probably a new member she hadn't met yet.

Either way, it didn't matter.

As Landon strode onto the stage, Clarissa stood ramrod straight, her gaze flittering toward Master Ian, who still leaned against the pillar across from her with his arms crossed as he stared her down. It was almost as if he knew Landon would draw her name, and he waited to see her reaction.

She swallowed hard, trembling as the chatter and other noises in the room faded from her consciousness until all she heard was the pounding of her pulse. She closed her eyes and waited for Mistress China to announce her fate.

"Master Landon, your submissive for the event is . . . um, Clarissa!"

There were several audible gasps from the crowd, followed by some murmuring. Her heart sank, and she didn't move. Not toward the steps. Not toward the exit.

"Clarissa, please join us on the stage." The Domme's command was filled with a combination of authority and sympathy. Clarissa had spent enough time with Charlotte and several other female members outside the club to the point they called each other friends. Still, Mistress China demanded respect and obedience in The Covenant, as did every other Dominant. She would be disappointed if Clarissa caused a scene.

Tears of anguish stung her eyes, but she finally opened them, blinking several times as she gathered her composure while still wishing a black hole would open under her feet and swallow her.

You're strong—you can do this. It's only for a few hours, and then it'll be over. Don't let him or anyone else see you cry.

It took her a moment to realize the room had gone silent, and everyone was staring at her. Licking her lips, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, and somehow, she managed to get up the few steps to the stage without falling. A shiver went down her spine when her gaze met Landon's. There was no smirk of satisfaction or triumph on his face, nor any other readable expression, other than . . . love?

If Clarissa wasn't mistaken, that look in his eyes was the same one she'd seen while walking down the aisle to marry him.

No, your mind is playing tricks on you.

When she stopped in front of Mistress China, her friend gave her a reassuring nod before mouthing, "I'm sorry, I didn't know he'd be here."

Clarissa wouldn't have signed up for the event if she'd heard there was the slightest chance that Landon would be there. If any of the women she was friends with, Dominants or submissives, knew he was coming tonight, they undoubtedly would've warned her. Clearly, only a scarce few had known.

Shaking her head slightly, Clarissa whispered, "It's okay."

Well, it really wasn't okay, but it wasn't the Domme's fault for the mess Clarissa suddenly found herself in. No one else was to blame except for her and Landon—and maybe the owners of The Covenant, the rat bastards. If she could only go back in time to a few weeks ago, when she'd signed up for the event, she would kick her own ass for even thinking of it.

Master Mitch handed Landon the wooden chip. "Drop it on the board to find out what your scene will involve."

Landon placed the chip flat against the top of the board and slid it a few inches to the left of dead center before releasing it. Clarissa watched the bouncing chip that would decide the rest of her fate for the evening until it landed in the fourth slot from the right.

"Breath play," Master Mitch announced. "That's on both of your red-limit lists, so it's a do-over."

It was torturous enough the first time, and now she had to wait for Landon to do it again? The universe had to hate her right then for some reason. It was the only thing she could think of for why this was all happening.

Picking up the chip, Landon repeated the process. When it fell into a different slot, the club's manager called out, "Humiliation play!"

Well, that was right on target. They hadn't even started yet, and she was already humiliated. Wonderful .

When Landon reached out to take her arm, she stepped back, shying away from him. She wasn't ready for him to touch her and wasn't sure if she would ever be ready again. But when her gaze shifted to Master Mitch, who frowned at her, she knew she had to suck it up.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, then moved toward Landon, allowing him to gently close his hand around her upper arm and lead her off the stage. They passed Mister Ian, and his steely gaze followed them. She was sure it was on the tip of his tongue to remind her about the threat of being banned, but he didn't say anything. He didn't have to. That cold, hard stare told her all she needed to know.

Landon found them a spot near another pillar, out of everyone else's way, where they could stand while waiting for the remaining Doms and subs to be paired up. Surprisingly, he hadn't said a word to her yet. That was unlike him, but then again, she had barely acknowledged his presence since joining him on the stage.

If someone had asked her the names of the people she knew surrounding her at that moment, she wouldn't have been able to come up with a single one. Her mind spun out of control to the point it almost seemed like the entire room was listing to one side, making her feel off-kilter.

Three hours. She had to scene with her ex-husband for the next three damn hours. Why, oh, why had she let Luna and Abigail talk her into this? Biting her tongue lightly, she tried not to let loose a string of curses damning Landon to Hell.

"Clarissa."

She jumped when Landon said her name in her ear. "Huh? W-what?"

"They just announced it's time to play." He stepped in front of her and held out his hand. His expression was unreadable, while his tone demanded compliance when he added, "Come, subbie."