2. Grier

Chapter 2

Grier

C IA Safe House

Moscow, Russia

Present Day

Grier hunched over her laptop, the glow from the screen casting shadows across her face in the dimly lit Moscow safe house. The walls, bare and cold, seemed to close in on her as she fought against the boredom that had settled over her like a heavy blanket. The hum of the computer was the only sound, punctuating the silence of the small, nondescript room. They'd told her going ‘into the field' would be exciting, dangerous; they'd lied.

At least back home in her little cottage outside of Langley, Virginia, her life had a certain predictability. She could go to work in her little cubicle. At the end of the day, she could come home, pull off her clothes, including her bra, and indulge in the wonderfully sexy romance novels set in lifestyle clubs. There, the men were incredibly dominant and the women found peace in their submission to caring Doms who saw to all their needs—physical, emotional, mental, not to mention sexual. Somehow her vibrator no longer seemed enough.

Her fingers idly tapped against the keys as she scrolled through encrypted files, her mind far away from the task at hand. She couldn't shake the memory of that night in Chicago, when she'd felt safe and cut off from the rest of her life. She'd dared to venture out to Club Southside, the city's most well-known and exclusive lifestyle club. The pulse of the music, the dim lights, and the smell of expensive liquor had exceeded all of her wildest fantasies.

And then when her nerve had started to fail her, he was there—tall, dark, magnetic. He'd stolen not only her breath away, but her ability to speak. He'd looked like every fantasy she'd ever had dressed in his leathers—muscular with a sculpted chest and chiseled abs showing through this leather vest with a prominent bulge in the front of his leather pants. His piercing blue eyes had locked onto hers the moment he entered the room, and it had been impossible to look away. The way he moved, with a quiet confidence that sent a shiver down her spine, still lingered in her thoughts.

He'd been about her age, but he exuded confidence and experience. His hair had been thick and unruly and made him sexier than anyone had a right to be. If looks could be believed, he was exactly what she'd come looking for—a Dom, with a capital D, not a daddy Dom or a soft Dom… but a truly dominant Dom. One who would take her to her breaking point and bring her back down, giving her the aftercare she so desperately needed. This would be her first time, and it both excited and scared her.

"You're G?" he asked in a deep, low voice.

Grier could do nothing but nod.

He smiled. "First time?"

Another nod. God, he was going to think he'd gotten stuck with a submissive who couldn't speak. He stretched out his hand, helping her to her feet. Grier had purchased a black brocade corset which seemed to make the most of her figure—chubby or curvy, depending on how charitable one wanted to be—as well as a matching pair of boy shorts. The woman at the corset shop had tried to talk her into a skimpy thong, but Grier had declined. She'd also purchased a pair of stiletto heels, which now caused her to wobble when she walked.

The Dom who would only be known as ‘Sir' stopped and kneeled down, running his hand firmly down the back of her calf. "Let's get these off. I don't want you to hurt yourself. Inflicting pain is my job."

Grier's entire body shivered. She might be limited to calling him Sir, but she would forever in her mind think of him as Master McSexy.

As they walked into the dimly lit dungeon, Grier's heart was pounding in her chest, echoing in her ears with every step she took at his side. She couldn't help but wonder if every lithe blonde in the place was wondering what he was doing with her. Truth to tell, she was wondering the same thing, but she decided she was just going to go with the flow and enjoy herself. After all, it was just a one-night stand, right?

Her tongue was glued to the top of her mouth, her eyes locked onto his. She saw a gleam reflected back at her, a gleam of power, of delight, and she hoped this long-held dream wasn't about to turn into a nightmare.

As he led her to the frame, she tried to keep her breathing steady, her hands trembling only slightly. The air in the club was thick with anticipation, the pulse of the music like a heartbeat, amplifying the tension. She could feel eyes on her from all around the room, from the observant couples sharing a private booth in the corner to the lone wolf at the bar, nursing a drink. She'd been ambivalent about having an audience and so had let him choose. She wondered now if that had been a mistake, but she refused to back down.

He ran his fingers up her arms, his eyes on hers, staring into her soul, until her lips parted. Master McSexy escorted her up onto the stage and turned her to face the audience. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pick up a wicked looking blade and felt the spine of the knife on her back as it slipped beneath the lacings.

"I'll buy you new ones," he whispered in her ear.

The corset fell away as did the boy shorts when he cut them away, smiling as she was bared to anyone and everyone who'd come to watch the show on the main stage. Master McSexy was said to be a whipmaster, one of Club Southside's best Doms with a flogger. If everyone hadn't been watching her, judging her, Grier might have tried to cover herself with her hands. But that gaze of his demanded she be brave, that she prove him, and everyone else, wrong for thinking she would bail. Instead, she lifted her chin and stared back at him, defiant, for now.

"Brave, are we?" he chuckled, music to her ears, even if he was goading her. She tilted her head to the right, just watching him, anticipation making her squirm, which made him smile.

Master McSexy securely fastened her wrists to the top of the frame, and she found herself glancing at the crowd again, even though she knew she shouldn't. Their faces were a mix of awe and curiosity; some even looked jealous. For a brief moment, Grier felt like she was the center of attention—in a good way—a living, breathing art exhibit.

But then, the reality of the situation settled in. Master McSexy reached over to a table, picking up a flogger, shaking its falls out. Grier could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. This wasn't an art exhibit. This was Club Southside, where rules were made to be broken, but only with consent. She had agreed to this—craved this.

As he unbuckled his belt, Grier felt a wave of nerves wash over her. She had never been one to seek out pain, but something about Master McSexy and his flogger intrigued her. She bit her lip, tension spreading through her body like wildfire.

"Are you ready, G?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers. She could see the hunger in them, a hunger that matched her own. She nodded, swallowing hard as she forced herself to meet his gaze.

As he flicked the flogger, she could feel every eye in the room focused on them. The stage lights seemed to burn brighter, highlighting every detail of their bodies. Grier could see the anticipation in the audience, the way they held their breath as they waited for Master McSexy to strike. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing through the silent room.

Master McSexy gripped the flogger, flexing his fingers around the handle and seeming to find its weight reassuring and adequate to the task. He ran it through the air, a soft hiss escaping from the tips. The audience gasped in unison, a chorus of surprised whispers filling the air.

"Are you sure about this, G?" he asked again, his voice low and rumbling like thunder.

She gulped, her throat suddenly dry. She could feel the sweat breaking out on her forehead. her body trembled with the anticipation of the pain to come. But there was something else, too—a rush of adrenaline, a high that was almost euphoric.

"Yes, Sir" she whispered. "I'm ready."

And with that, the room seemed to hold its breath as Master McSexy raised the flogger high above his head. The music stopped, the lights dimmed, and the first strike came down hard, across her back, and she couldn't help but let out a gasp. The pain was sharp and sudden, but it wasn't unbearable. It was a reminder of what she'd agreed to, what she had craved. Grier had never felt so alive, so exposed, so vulnerable.

Master McSexy continued, strike after strike, each one more precise and powerful than the last. She could feel her skin burning, her muscles tensing, her heart pounding in her chest. She was alive in a way she'd never been before. If people had known she worked for the CIA they would have thought it exciting, but it wasn't. Day after day she worked in her little cubicle deciphering code. It was nothing compared to this. Her back was on fire, but she didn't want it to end. Instead, she wanted more.

As the whip continued to dance across her back, each strike bringing with it a mix of pain and pleasure, she could feel the crowd's energy shifting. They were captivated by this scene, hungry to witness something raw and dangerous. And Grier knew that she was giving them just that.

Master McSexy was a master of his craft, his flogger moving with a grace and precision that was almost beautiful. She could feel her body responding to each strike, her skin tingling and her muscles growing tense. She had never felt so alive, so exposed, so vulnerable.

And yet, there was something about this situation that was empowering. She was taking control of her own desires, stepping into a world that was taboo and dangerous, but felt utterly exhilarating and oddly safe. She could feel the energy of the audience, their eyes on her, their collective breath held as they watched the scene unfold.

"You're doing very well, G," he breathed into her ear when he paused for a moment, his hands coming around to cup her breasts, to tease her nipples as the crowd around them went wild. Grier didn't really hear them, though; all she could hear was his voice. "I didn't think you'd make it this far. You have beautiful nipples, by the way." He gave them a hard tweak.

He moved away before she could respond, his fingers leaving her nipples aching for more.

The flogger resumed its dance through the air, landing on her bottom now, slicing a new layer of burning, pleasurable pain across it.

Grier could feel her cheeks flush with heat, but it wasn't just because of the pain. It was also because of the arousal that was building up inside her with each strike. She knew she was pushing herself, testing her limits, but it felt so good.

Master McSexy continued to lay the flogger down across her body, his movements fluid and precise, never missing a spot. Grier could feel her body responding, her core tightening, her breaths becoming shallower. She was completely under his control, at his mercy, and it was the most exhilarating feeling she'd ever experienced.

As the music started to play again, she could hear the crowd cheering, their energy pulsing through the club. Grier could feel the heat of their stares, their lustful gazes, and it only fueled the fire within her. Master McSexy laid the flogger down and came to examine his handiwork. In some ways she was so turned on, she thought she'd let him fuck her in front of the crowd, but in others, she just wanted him to leave her be and let her revel in the way her body seemed to be singing.

She could feel his fingers dancing over the welts on her skin as he came around to face her, his fingers moving across her hip and down her abdomen, to slide directly over her clit. "Mm, I knew you'd love the flogger, but I didn't know you'd love it this much. You're so wet for me, G. You're absolutely soaking."

He brought his middle finger up to lick it clean, smiling seductively at her when her mouth fell open in shock. "I'll give you something to fill that with later, if you'd like."

Her eyes raced up from the finger he'd stuck back between his lips to his eyes, while her mouth watered instantly.

"Like that idea, huh?" Master McSexy said, his lips coming close to hers, whispering against them, before he moved to the table where he kept his tools. He looked it over, holding up objects for the crowd to either cheer or jeer at.

For a moment, she felt totally out of control, like she had no say in any of this, but one word would stop it all, the word no. She didn't want to say it, though; she didn't want to end up like so many of the other women he'd used his flogger on, a puddled mess of pleasured exhaustion on the floor.

"You did very well, G," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've never seen anyone take as much pleasure in pain as you do."

She smiled, a little shyly, feeling a sudden wave of emotion.

"I've never felt this way before," Grier admitted. "I've never felt so alive."

Let me get you cut down. We can head up to one of the privacy rooms or just get settled in the lounge."

Grier nodded. In many ways she wanted nothing more than to go up to one of the rooms and spend the rest of the night pleasuring and being pleasured by Master McSexy, but that was more than she could allow herself. Being here at the club was risky enough; if someone found out, she could get her security clearance revoked and be out of a job, but there was something about the risk that only added to her arousal and the appeal.

She had wanted to experience this for so long. When the CIA had assigned her to talk to the romance novelist Samantha Coltraine about code cracking, they'd found they had far more in common than either of them had imagined they would. They'd become friends, and that friendship had led to an invitation from Samantha to experience a night at Club Southside. Samantha had assured Grier her confidentiality would be assured.

"I need to go use the ladies' room," she whispered to Master McSexy, her confidence beginning to fail her.

"Of course, G. Do you want me to take you or have one of the other girls go with you?"

"No. No. I'll be fine."

It wasn't technically a lie. She would be fine. In fact, she'd be better than fine if she could just slip away from the Club and get to the train station.

Inside the submissives' salon, Grier had changed quickly and slipped away into the night. Samantha called and texted. It was only once she had made her getaway and was on the train headed for home that she sent Samantha a text assuring her that she was fine and thanking her for a marvelous experience. Then she blocked Samantha's number as the train rambled down the track and into the night.

Grier had always prided herself on being unflappable, but something about that man had rattled her, and she hadn't been able to shake off the experience or him. She didn't even know his name, but the memory of his rugged features and the heat of his touch had been hard to forget. There had been so many times since that night she'd been tempted to find out, but she had reminded herself that night at the club had been a one night stand and nothing more.

A sudden blip on her screen pulled her back to the present, snapping her out of the memory's grip. She leaned closer to the laptop, her heart picking up speed as she realized what she was looking at. The file she had been working on for what felt like an eternity had finally begun to give up its secrets.

Her hands moved with purpose now, decrypting line after line of code. Each word that appeared on the screen made her pulse quicken. This was it—the file that could expose a high-level mole within the CIA. The implications were staggering, and Grier felt a mix of excitement and fear wash over her.

She had been chasing shadows for so long, and now, she was on the verge of a breakthrough. But the stakes were higher than ever, and the walls of the safe house seemed to close in even more tightly. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that somehow, someone knew she was getting close.

Her green eyes narrowed in focus as she continued to work, her mind no longer wandering. The man from Chicago was pushed to the back of her thoughts, replaced by the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had a job to do, and there was no room for distraction. Not when the truth was so close.