Chapter One
Club Alpha Cove, an exclusive BDSM club on David’s Island off the coast of New Rochelle, New York, in Long Island Sound.
“Parker! Man, it’s good to see you,” exclaimed Quinlan Shaw, one of the owners of the club, IT Guru, and mentor to Parker Sinclair over the years. It was he who had sparked Parker’s interest to qualify as a Cyber Engineer specializing in web-based NanoTechnology development.
“Likewise,” Parker smiled broadly as he shook Quinlan’s hand. He looked around the impressive club. “I see you upgraded since the last time I was here.”
“Always good practice to keep things fresh and interesting. How’s the submissive training academy doing at Castle Sin?”
“Booming. We receive more applicants than we can handle and the waiting list for next year is already full.”
“Ah, yes. You only accept a certain number per seven-month period, correct?” Quinlan slipped behind the bar and popped open a beer. “Prost my friend.”
Parker lifted his glass and nodded. “Yeah. Our aim is to provide quality training and we can only offer that in groups of ten per class. We accept only three groups per year and time it so that all their training is completed by December.” Parker glanced around. “I don’t see Ruark anywhere. How’s the King doing?”
Quinlan laughed. Ruark Greer, the primary owner of Club Alpha Cove was known as the King of BDSM in the lifestyle. Members christened him as such as he was the chairman of the BDSM community forum and the authority everyone accepted to rule over registered clubs all over the States.
“Being led by the nose by his twin baby girls.” He gestured to the archway leading down to the dungeon. “Are you going to play tonight?”
“I might, provided I find the sub I’m looking for.”
Quinlan studied him with raised eyebrows. “Why do I get the feeling you’re referring to a particular submissive and not one in general?”
Parker shrugged as he swallowed the last of his drink. He stretched lazily. “You’d be right.”
“Damn, and here I thought you came to New York especially to see me. What a letdown.”
Parker laughed with Quinlan as they weaved through club members to the dungeon.
“How’s Calista? Is she here tonight?”
“My little Vanilla is wonderful and sadly no, she’s home helping the boys with a school project. Nowadays we mostly only play at the club over weekends.” He smiled proudly. “Children change a man’s perspective and priorities.”
“I can imagine. Stone and his fiancé are also expecting. I have to admit, I’m excited about meeting my little nephew or niece.”
“No plan for your own little pitter-patter of feet in the near future?”
Parker chuckled as he pressed his thumb against the scanner to gain entrance into the dungeon. Quinlan followed on his heels.
“I want kids one day, but before that happens, I have to find the right woman first.”
Quinlan noticed his eyes surveying each room as they moved from one play area to the next.
“Wanna give me her name? If she’s here, I’ll be able to find her quicker than you.”
“Thanks, but I want to reel in this one all by myself.”
“Master Quinlan, we have a problem in the punishment room.” Quinlan nodded at the club coordinator who smiled apologetically for the interruption.
“I’ll be right there.” He slapped Parker on the shoulder. “Duty calls. I hope you find her.” He winked as he sauntered in the opposite direction. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
Parker waved him off as he walked into the whipping chamber. He breathed in the comforting smells of sex and leather mixed with the deep aroma of well-oiled wooden equipment. The crack of a whip, the swish of a flogger, and the husky moans and screams felt like home. This was what Club Alpha Cove and Castle Sin were all about.
Debauchery, lust, and kink.
“Well, well, well … there you are, my little cherub.” Parker’s voice darkened as his gaze honed in on a petite black-haired woman on the far side of the chamber. Over the distance, it seemed like she was caught in a verbal discord with one of the Doms. His lips twitched as he drew closer and felt the slightly hoarse intonation of her voice in the twitch of his cock.
“Take it or leave it, Sir, because that’s what I offer.”
“Are you sure you’re even interested in a scene?” The Dom took a step back and looked her up and down. “From your attitude, I wonder if you’re even a submissive.”
“I can assure you I’m a submissive. One who knows what she wants and refuses to be overpowered into agreeing to something else.”
Parker’s eyes roamed in a lazy perusal over her scantily clad body. All in black. The shorts molded to her hips and were attached to the demi cup bra top with thin chains that drew attention to her toned stomach. Although petite, her legs looked long, even hidden by thigh high stiletto boots. She tossed her head. His gaze moved over the silky strands of her hair, styled into a long bob with bangs hanging low over her forehead. One hip jutted forward in a sultry pose of defiance with her hands fisted on her waist. For such a small woman, she was rather big-breasted, which pleased the hell out of Parker. He was a breast man through and through and loved any shape, size, or form of breasts.
“Well, Sir?” she prodded with a coquettish smile. A smile that slipped as her shoulders straightened.
Parker grinned when he noticed the tension in her back as she slowly moved her head sideways, visibly bristling under his intense regard. Their eyes clashed. Her gasp verbalized the effect his close presence had on her. His stance didn’t change. With his legs spread wide, arms loose by his side, with his thumbs hooked into the side pockets of his jeans and a wicked smile on his lips, he personified a modern-day bad boy.
One who knew exactly how the night was going to end.
Little cherub was going to learn, most probably the hard way, that she was facing a Dom she’d be better off not attempting to top from the bottom.
She was a striking woman, but Parker didn’t appreciate the heavy mascara and thick eyeliner she used to accentuate her forest green eyes. Not that he minded a woman wearing makeup, but subtle enhancement attracted him more than this. On the other hand, it wasn’t all that uncommon a practice in BDSM clubs. There was a pleasure to be had in watching a sub’s face covered in black streaks of mascara during a scene … especially when accompanied by cries of pleasure-pain and lust.
Her nostrils flared but she stood motionless as his gaze moved over her curved eyebrows that followed the almond shape of her eyes. His fingers itched to trace the skin over her heart-shaped face to feel if it was as luxuriously soft as it looked. Her cupid bow lips thinned as his gaze trailed in deliberate slow appreciation over her body, hesitating a fraction too long on her heaving breasts for her peace of mind. Parker grinned as she crossed her arms over her chest and then smiled broadly as the effort to bar his hot look pushed her breasts upward, threatening to pop them from the tight demi bra, and offering him an even sexier view than before. She dropped her arms with a huff.
She opened her mouth to snap at him, the intent was there in her eyes, but before she could utter a sound, Parker turned away and moved past her. He could feel her furious gaze piercing his back. It was obvious that little miss cherub wasn’t used to rebuff—exactly like he’d suspected. He smiled with pleasure as the thrill of the chase rippled through him.