“I’m going to bind you now, Brynn. Just relax,” said Master J, who’d been silent most of the time she’d been in here.

She tilted her head, something about the way he’d said her name giving her pause, but then the thought flew from her mind when his fingers touched her throat.

Master J wound something around her neck. The smell of new leather filled her nose, and fingers of fear wrapped around her windpipe again. After a quick clink of metal, he tugged at the collar. “Is that too snug?”

She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. “It’s fine.”

His footfalls echoed off the floor as he moved behind her. A warm hand gathered her wrists and bent her arms behind her back into L-positions. Leather cuffs locked around them and when she tested the hold, the collar around her neck pressed against the hollow of her throat, causing her to cough.

“Easy. It’s all connected to a strip down your back. Move one thing, it moves all of it.”

Officially trapped. She bit her lip and nodded. She would… not… cry. This was just sex. Sex. It was supposed to be fun. Used to be great. None of these guys were here to rape her. There were rules and surveillance cameras. She had her safe word.

“It’s time, Brynn.”

Her stomach threatened to heave.

Master J clasped her upper arm and eased her forward on her bare feet. “I’m going to walk you into our common room. All the members interested in taking on a new sub will be there. You are to remain on your knees with your head down until someone addresses you. If someone wants to take you on, they will stand in front of your post. Only after everyone has made their selections will your blindfold come off. At that point, you’ll be able to choose who you want to be with. Understand?”

“What if I don’t want any of them?”

He sniffed. “Then you go home.”

The squeak of a door swinging open made her suck in a breath. The soft buzz of conversation washed over her as the air temperature around her warmed. They had arrived. A crowded room, and she was half-naked and bound for all to see. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and Master J’s grip tightened on her arm to keep her from falling. “Almost there.”

A few more steps and he halted her. “On your knees.”

He helped her bend, and her knees landed on a soft pallet. His hand ran along the back of her hair. “Choose wisely, doll.”

She reared up like someone had pinched her. Only one person had ever called her doll. She turned her head and opened her mouth to ask the question, but he cut her off.

“No more talking.” And with that she heard his footsteps fade.

Well, hell.

A sharp tinkling sound cut through the hum of voices—metal on a wine glass she guessed. “Members, it’s time for the initiation. For those of you participating tonight, please step forward. For those here to watch, please have a seat.”

Brynn sat back on her calves and flexed her fingers, her arms starting to tingle from the restricted position. This was it. No turning back now. She said a silent prayer that she’d get someone who would go easy on her. Heavy footfalls circulated around her, and the air shifted as people stepped into her space, bringing a mix of male scents to her nose—cologne, soap, sweat. She set her mouth in a firm line and kept her expression smooth, determined to keep her fear hidden.

A finger pressed under her chin, lifting her face to some unknown suitor. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

Her heart crashed against her ribs, her panic rising like mercury in a thermometer. She cleared her throat and tried to keep her voice even. “Brynn.”

“Have you been in a D/s relationship before?” asked another male voice.

“Once, a long time ago.”

There were a few murmurs of approval, and the first man released her chin. Then a third voice, deep and melodic, chimed in. “Did you love the guy or was it a casual relationship?”

She wrinkled her forehead, confused by the question. “Does it matter?”

“Answer the question, sub.”

She clenched her jaw. “I loved him.”

“But you think you can keep it casual now?” asked the first man.

She nodded. “I know I can.”

The men asked a few more questions, then the sound of the clinking glass hushed everyone again. “Time to choose.”

Brynn’s head swam and sweat beaded her skin. She dug her nails into her palms and started counting backward from one hundred in her head, a habit she had picked up as a child when she’d wake up from nightmares in an empty house.

Ninety-nine.

Feet shuffled around her.

Ninety-eight.

The strong smell of cigar smoke filled her head as someone else neared.

Ninety-seven.

What if she couldn’t handle it? What if she was repulsed by all her choices? Tears gathered beneath her lids.

Ninety-six.

She tightened her fists and focused on the image of her sister when she was little—blond pigtails and wide, trusting eyes—before she and Kelsey had been tainted by the world around them. Brynn tilted her chin up.

Ninety-five.

It didn’t matter who was standing in front of her. She would do what she needed to do. She was tired of living with this crippling fear. And on top of that, her sister needed her. If she fainted like one of the damn goats, then so be it. A hand touched the back of her head and yanked at the knot on her blindfold.

Ninety-four.

The wisp of silk fluttered to the floor, and Brynn blinked as her eyes adjusted to the low lighting of the room. Three sets of shoes came into vision.

“Lift your head, Brynn, and choose your master.”

Brynn raised her eyes and stared into the familiar blues of Reid Jamison.

TEN

then

Brynn yawned as she lifted the stack of files and set them on her desk. She hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep the rest of the weekend. Every time she’d laid her head down, images of her night with Reid had flooded her senses. How could the guy walk away from something like that? Why couldn’t he just accept that he’d enjoyed it? Yes, it was a little… alternative. But so what? Didn’t people always say that the college years were the experimental ones?

She glanced over at Reid’s work area. He had his head turned toward his computer screen and was typing away. He’d barely looked in her direction all day. She plopped into her chair with a huff. What an asshole. Even if he didn’t want to pursue anything with her, it was shitty to ignore her after he’d slept with her.

She picked up the date stamp and started stamping each file with a little more vigor than necessary. The silent treatment was going to drive her mad. He should at least have the balls to face her and not cower behind his computer all day. Men. She finished the files and moved them to the side of her desk, then spun in her chair to grab the other stack off the floor.

“You stamp those things any harder, you’re going to rip through the paper. I can hear you pounding away at them from across the room.”

Brynn jumped at the interruption and swung around to face Reid. She slammed the new pile of folders on her desk with a heavy thunk. “So sorry, did I break your concentration?”

He leaned down, palms splayed on the top of her desk. “Am I sensing some hostility here, sugar?”

“Boy, you’re bright.”

He gave her a half-smile. “I’m sorry I sent you away. I needed to get my head straight.”

“I don’t think it worked. It’s apparently still stuck up your ass.”

He sighed. “I guess I deserved that.”

She glared at him and went back to stamping. Flip page. Stamp. Flip page. Stamp.

He grabbed her wrist, stilling her hand. “Don’t shut me out, Brynn.”

“Interesting request, considering you’re the one who can’t seem to bear a glance my way today.”

He dropped her arm and scrubbed a hand over his face. “It hurts to look at you.”

She smirked. “Gee, you really know how to flatter a girl.”

“Come on, Brynn. You know that’s not what I mean. It’s just every time I see you, I’m reminded of how I treated you this weekend, how I lost control.”

She shut the file folder and met his gaze. “Seems like you were pretty in control to me.”

His closed his eyes, and she noticed the deep bags beneath them for the first time. “I’m so sorry. I know I probably made you feel like shit.”

She blew out a breath, his remorse taking the wind out of her tirade, and touched his arm. “Hey, stop making assumptions. Yes, you pissed me off sending me home without even walking me out. But you know what I felt before that?”

He looked up, his expression wary. “What?”

“Alive.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off.

“No, I’m serious. You don’t get how it is for me. I spend my days worrying about if I’m going to have enough money. Am I doing right by Kelsey? Is my mom going to be okay if I leave and take my sister with me? And on and on it goes. The noise inside my head can be deafening.”

“Brynn—”

She raised her hand, letting him know she wasn’t finished. “But, for some reason, when you took control in the driveway, all those worries and stresses that race around my brain all day quieted. From that moment on, all I had on my mind was you and how you made me feel. It was… freeing.”

“But the way I talked to you, the things I did…”

“Were all things I could’ve stopped at any moment. But I didn’t want to. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.” She wanted to reach out and grab his hand, but was afraid people in the office would start raising eyebrows. She placed her palms on her lap. “I’m not scared of you. Or of what happened this weekend.”

“But I am. I don’t want to be that guy,” he said, his tone making her chest ache. “I don’t want to turn into some monster.”

“You’re not a monster,” she said, believing it with every ounce of her being.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand, Reid, because I can’t be the only one who felt the… rightness of what happened between us.”

He tilted his head back and groaned. “Look, go tell Davis you’re leaving for your lunch break, then meet me in the parking lot. There’s something I need to show you.”

Fifteen minutes and one painfully silent drive later they turned onto the winding driveway of the Jamison estate. Brynn had no idea what Reid was bringing her here to see, but getting a chance to check out where he lived was motivation enough for her. She’d heard more than one story in the office about how amazing the Jamisons’ house was. And the reality did not disappoint.

The sheer size of the plantation-style home astounded her—the garden alone taking up more space than her rental house. She half expected Scarlett O’Hara to pop her head out one of the windows and ask them inside for coffee and biscuits.

Reid had told her he lived in the guest space over the garage, so presumably the massive white mansion housed two people. Two! She shook her head. What must it be like to grow up with such luxury, such security? Never wondering if the lights were going to get cut off at the end of the month of if there would be enough money left over to buy groceries for the week. She couldn’t even imagine.

“That’s some house.”

He smirked and shot the house a derisive glance. “No one would ever accuse my aunt and uncle of doing anything halfway.” He parked his car in front of the closed garage. “Come on.”

He led her up a flight of stairs on the side of the garage and unlocked his door. She stepped inside the apartment, and he bumped the door shut behind them. The living room was small, but cozy, and was open to the small efficiency kitchen. Camel-colored couches and dark wood furniture, a big-screen TV in the middle of the biggest wall. Practical, unpretentious. Probably the complete opposite of what resided in the main house.