Appreciated (Club Indigo Book 3) Read online

Bob strained against his bonds, moaning and groaning. His cock had turned an angry shade of dark red and the skin was taut around the steel length of him. Kate laughed at his struggling and gave him a kiss. When she pulled back, Bob followed her mouth with his, until he was halted by his bindings. Kate smiled and patted his cheek. "Color?"

  "Green, Mistress, I'm good."

  "Yes, you are. You're such a good boy for me." Kate turned toward a table and picked up some wipes.

  Jim spoke into her ear again. "They use the traffic light system for safewords. Red is stop and the scene will end. Yellow will warn Kate to slow down and adjust, and green is to go ahead. She's cleaning his dick with alcohol wipes as she's about to do urethral sounding. She will take a very small, thin stainless steel rod that's also sterile and insert it into his urethra. It's considered edge play, but Kate is very experienced in it."

  With fascinated horror, Paula watched how Kate inserted the rod into the narrow slit at the top of Bob's penis. From the sounds of it, it was very pleasurable for him. Could he really be enjoying it?

  "See how she doesn't push it in but only guides it and lets gravity do the rest?" Jim asked her, and Paula nodded.

  She'd noticed something else. "Her eyes are on his face and not on her hands or his cock."

  "You're right. This is all about his pleasure and building his strength by pushing his boundaries. Most men would have lost control a long time ago, but I think he'll last for a while. Shall we move on?"

  Paula nodded. She had a lot to think about. This BDSM stuff had a lot more to it than she'd thought. To be honest with herself, she'd been aroused almost the entire time she'd been inside the club. Did that make her kinky?

  They peeked in two more rooms, but neither grabbed her attention the way Kate and Bob had. Jim didn't push her to go in either, and after showing her the empty rooms with their equipment, they returned to the bar downstairs.

  Chapter 6

  To Paula's disappointment, James and Laura had left the club, but Henry had moved behind the bar and was talking with an African-American woman and Chris. Jackson was sitting at a barstool with a glass containing clear liquid in front of him. He smiled in greeting. It was disturbing to see the legal shark in nothing but leather boxers and a leather harness encasing his torso. She fixed her eyes on his face, determined not to let them wander over his body.

  "Permission, Sir?" Jackson asked Jim as they approached, and Jim nodded. What was that about?

  Jackson got up, took her hand, and kissed it. "Hello, Paula, so nice to see you here. I'm sorry I didn't greet you before. When I'm on my knees, my Master takes care of everything," he said. "What's your impression of Club Indigo so far?"

  She looked over to Jim and he smiled at her. "You may answer him, Paula."

  "Sir! Yes, Sir." She came to attention, but before she could salute, she felt a stinging swat coming down on her ass as Jim turned her toward Jackson.

  "It's not only the words you use, but your tone of voice as well." He pulled her close and bit down on her earlobe long enough that she froze. After holding on for another moment, he let go. "You're allowed to talk with Jackson. You're going to answer his questions with either an honest answer, or you tell him you're not comfortable responding. I'm going to sit next to you." With that, he steered both her and Jackson back to the barstools.

  Jackson smiled and prompted, "So, what do you think of the club?"

  "Eh, it's different, interesting. It's a lot to take in." Jackson nodded his understanding. "It isn't what I expected. I thought there would be whips and chains, pain and humiliation, everyone in black leather. I thought BDSM was about hurting women." Shame washed over her. Had she been so full of stereotypes that she'd ignored the evidence of her own eyes? "I guess I didn't really understand." She sighed. "I still don't understand."

  Jackson patted her hand and gave a genuine smile that made the lines beside his eyes crinkle. "What you need to know is that everything that happens in this club is consensual. Even if something happens that makes your skin crawl, you have to remember the sub has the ultimate power to begin and end a scene."

  That surprised her and she frowned. "Okay, starting a scene I understand, but isn't the Dom in charge after that and the one who ends the scene?"

  "Oh yes, he, or she, is, but a sub always has a safeword," Jackson answered. "When a safeword is used, the scene ends, whether the top is ready or not. Even in a 24/7 TPE relationship like Henry and I have, I still have a safeword."

  Before Paula could ask him what he meant, Henry's voice behind him startled both of them. "And he will use it when in mental or physical distress." Jackson turned abruptly toward his Dom and tipped over his glass in the process. Henry's hands shot out quickly and he took both of Jackson's nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and turned the flat discs until Jackson went on his tiptoes and their faces were very close together.

  "Do you think I have a need to clean the bar? Don't you think I'm busy enough manning the damn thing?" Henry said in a low tone.

  "No, Sir. Sorry, Master. I'll be more careful," Jackson squeaked.

  Henry let go of his nipples and took Jackson's chin in his hand to place a kiss on his mouth. "Thought so." He used the dishtowel from his shoulder to mop up the mess and gave Jackson a new glass of water.

  Henry smiled at Paula, and she couldn't hide her scowl. Before she could give him a dressing down for his abuse, he tenderly touched Jackson's face. "Did you want to safeword?"

  Jackson was radiant. "Safeword, Master? More like come on the spot."

  Paula's mouth dropped open. "W-what?"

  "I'm a masochist as well as a submissive, Paula. I get off on both dominance and pain. I also like a bit of humiliation in the mix. So what you just witnessed was very hot, and if not for the damn chastity cage Master made me wear tonight, I could be pounding nails with my dick."

  "Oh, okay."

  Jim hugged her from behind and placed a kiss on her shoulder. "All people are different and like various things. I can't wait to discover the things you like." She relaxed against him. She liked the physical connection he had established and maintained all evening. His touch wasn't overtly sexual, but it made her feel sexy and alive nevertheless.

  "Do you have questions you want to ask Jackson?"

  She took a moment to think and remembered what Jackson had said earlier. "You mentioned something about your relationship before that I didn't understand. 24/7…" She trailed off, not remembering the rest.

  "24/7 TPE," Jackson repeated. "Total Power Exchange. It's deep D/s dynamics. Some couples still use the Dominant/submissive labels, but most go further. Henry is my Master, and I am his slave."

  "Slave?" Paula exclaimed, horrified.

  Jim squeezed her shoulder. "Relax, nothing to do with slavery. He has a safeword, remember?"

  Jackson nodded. "Actually, I'm called the slave, but I often think I get more out of our relationship than I ever have to offer him."

  "You mustn't think like that, Jackson, you know better," Jim said sternly. "To have a person rely one hundred percent on you is very rewarding. It gives us a feeling of control that we might not always feel in our professional lives. It's wonderfully balanced between a Master and a slave."

  It sounded appealing to Paula—his passion tugging at her in a way she couldn't decipher. The rational part of her mind wondered if he had hypnotized her somehow.

  Henry sidled up to them and slapped Jim on the shoulder with a big grin. "Spoken like a true Master."

  As Henry's words sank in, Paula felt like the time she had faced a drugged-out suspect waving a gun in her face her first week on the force. Jim was into this lifestyle way deeper than she'd thought. Realization hit her that she might be in over her head and without a partner to save her ass this time.

  Jim saw how Paula paled at Henry calling him Master. Damn it, she wasn't ready to know that. Hell, he wasn't ready for her to know it. He had wanted to ease her into it. He had planned on starting with a light-weight contract. The
y would go deeper when she was ready, if she ever was. Right now, he needed to do some damage control and try to repair the fragile bond of trust they'd built.

  Paula's eyes moved rapidly between Jim and the exit. To have her run off in fear now would be his worst-case scenario. She would probably never return to the club or consider exploring their attraction.

  "Paula, breathe." He invaded her personal space. The need to soothe her fear and the desire to push her boundaries so she would stop thinking warred within him. He had no rights to her yet, but the need to have her tied to him with a contract was so palpable, he swore he could taste it.

  He took Paula by the hand and guided her to a nearby cluster of chairs. "Sit down, sweetheart, you're so pale, you might faint."

  The usually self-aware and controlled woman followed his command. Jim didn't know if she was numb from shock or reacting to him as a Dom like the innate submissive she was, but he was dying to find out.

  "Paula, what just happened?" He managed to make his question kind and low, without giving away how important her answer was to him.

  She looked up at him, her normal cool demeanor gone, leaving a pure vulnerability that hit him like a blow to his solar plexus. "Y-you're a M-Master? You keep s-slaves?"

  "I don't 'keep' slaves, as if I owned someone, but, yes, I had a collared slave for almost two years. I uncollared Monica when she moved to Boston eight months ago."

  "What does that mean? Laura is collared. Is she James' slave, too?" Paula wanted to know.

  "Not really, although the dynamic between Laura and James may be a little deeper than just BDSM in the bedroom," Jim replied. "A collar means different things to different couples. Each defines their own relationship, just like vanillas do. That's what the contract is for!"

  "How so?" Some of the color had returned on her cheeks.

  "Hmm." Jim thought about his answer. How could he explain it to her so she could understand? "When vanilla couples start living together, they have a lot to learn, right?" She nodded, but he couldn't tell if that was to encourage him to go on or if she agreed with his assessment. "They have to get used to each other's habits, decide who will do which tasks, and a host of other things."

  "Tasks?"

  "Yeah, you know, like grocery shopping, cooking, doing the dishes, cleaning, and doing laundry."

  "Yeah, right. The 'woman' tasks in the household." She emphasized her sarcasm with air quotes. "So a Master puts that neatly in a contract, and everything is hunky-dory."

  Fuck, what kind of asshole had her ex been?

  "No, that's not what a contract is about. Paula, I'm not hiring a housekeeper or a maid."

  "No?" She sounded incredulous.

  "Paula—" Jim pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going so badly. Why couldn't she understand the beauty of it? He raised his voice. "Henry, can you join us for a moment?"

  Henry walked over from the bar right away and Jim watched as Paula crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head away from him.

  Henry took one of the vacant chairs and waited for Jim to direct the conversation. Paula might not be his sub, but she was his guest, and as such, he acted as her Dom tonight. Jim appreciated being surrounded by people who were knowledgeable about the lifestyle and didn't stumble around blindly.

  "Henry, would you please explain to Paula the basics of your contract with Jackson?"

  A puzzled look marred Henry's beautiful features, but he replied, "Of course." He turned toward Paula. "Every contract is different, because every couple is unique." Without going into details about the arrangement between Jackson and me, I'll explain the part that's basically in every BDSM contract." He stroked his goatee. "Every contract defines the balance between what a Dom will provide and take and what a sub will receive and give."

  Paula shook her head. "Sounds nice as a concept, but I don't get it. How can there be a balance if somebody in the relationship is a slave ?"

  "The way you say the word slave, I see that it upsets you. Why is that?" Henry countered her question with one of his own. As a cop, he might not always like lawyers, but Jim felt admiration for him at that moment.

  "I've worked on two human trafficking cases. The word is offensive to me and I can't change that." She spat the words. "Slavery is wrong. People shouldn't be owned or sold or forced to work or have sex against their will."

  Henry didn't react to her outburst, and Jim hoped he hadn't, either, but her reaction felt like a punch to the gut. Did she really think he would force women to have sex with him?

  "You're absolutely right—that's not what a Master/slave relationship is about, Paula," Henry said. "If you would think calmly for a moment, I think you would understand. I know there's slavery even in this day and age, and I think it's despicable. However, a BDSM slave isn't a possession. The word merely indicates a deep submission. I cherish Jackson, as all Masters and Mistresses should cherish their slaves."

  Henry's gaze moved to Jackson and the submissive male inclined his head in acknowledgment of his Master. Henry continued his explanation to Paula. "As you can see, Jackson is attuned to me, as I am to him—at least I try to be. Our roles and responsibilities might be different, but our dedication to each other is very much the same."

  Paula's features softened, her whole posture becoming more relaxed, and Jim thanked Henry.

  "Yes, Henry, thank you for explaining it to me. I appreciate it," Paula said.

  Paula had forgotten her role as a submissive, but Jim realized now was not the time or place to call her on it.

  Last night had been disturbing and confusing, Paula mused. Jim had managed to make her doubt her convictions. She needed a friend to talk with, and Kate had agreed to meet her. Paula opened the door and spotted Kate right away. She walked up to her friend and they exchanged a quick hug as they waited for a table. Crazy busy as it was on Sunday, they'd had to wait almost fifteen minutes. Maybe IHOP wasn't the greatest choice, but since The Savory Table—their favorite café—wasn't open on the weekend, it had become their go-to place on Sunday.

  "Girl, if we do this too often, I'll have to up my exercise routine," Kate teased.

  Paula assessed the tall redhead. "All I see is a beautiful woman with a healthy body."

  Kate grinned. "You're right; we can indulge now and again." To emphasize her words, she speared a piece of pancake dripping with butter and syrup and brought it to her mouth. She moaned around the morsel in appreciation, savoring the taste.

  Paula pushed her breakfast around on the plate, put down her fork, and took a gulp of coffee. Luckily, the dark liquid had cooled down.

  She looked up. Kate was studying her with narrowed eyes. She, too, let go of her fork and took the time to dab her mouth with a napkin. Paula's throat was dry, and she licked her lips. She had so many questions to ask, and now, she didn't seem to be able to utter a word. To her bewilderment, Kate leaned back and settled into the faux leather bench with a big smile.

  "Cat got your tongue?" Kate asked.

  "Now I believe you're a sadist," Paula muttered, and Kate let out a melodic laugh. Paula felt the corner of her mouth twist, and she shook her head before chuckling, herself. It was so freeing to be able to let go and enjoy the moment with a friend.

  After a few minutes of shared amusement, Kate dried her eyes and turned serious. "Since you can crack a joke, does that mean you're more comfortable with the topic?"

  Paula considered the question. She was, wasn't she? "You're right about that. Visiting the club and seeing some of th-the scenes helped."

  "How so?" Kate prodded.

  "What is it with you people and these questions? Don't you have any boundaries? I like to keep my private thoughts—well—private."

  "I can understand that, but this lifestyle only works when you're honest and open about your emotions and desires," Kate said.

  "Okay, I get that, but it's hard." Paula paused, but Kate remained silent. Sadist! "To be honest, I liked most of what I witnessed in the club last night. It helped me und
erstand the appeal the lifestyle has, although I don't get everything that was going on."

  "What did you like?" Kate wanted to know, her breakfast forgotten in front of her.

  Paula took another sip of coffee. Yeah, she was stalling. "I liked James and Laura's scene. Their connection. Actually," she tapped her bottom lip as realization dawned, "that was also what drew me to Jackson and Henry."

  Kate gave her a dashing smile. "That's the heart of every BDSM relationship." Her smile faded as she added, "That's also what's missing with casual play, like what Bob and I do."

  Paula did not like the sad expression on Kate's face, but she had no idea what she could say to the other woman. She gave Kate's hand a comforting squeeze and remained silent.

  "So what else can I help you with about the lifestyle?" Kate returned to her matter-of-fact self. "How did things go with Jim?"

  "I'm not sure. I can't decide how I feel about all this control and obedience stuff. And what's all this about contracts? He kept talking about them but never really explained."

  "I can understand your confusion. Contracts in BDSM are an individual preference. Some people swear by them; others think they're nonsense or just a waste of time. Of course, they're not legally enforceable, no matter what some people say. A contract is a way for a couple or group to spell out responsibilities, duties, limits, safewords, and sometimes punishments. They're most common with serious, long-term relationships. I expect Henry and Jackson have one since they're 24/7 and they're both lawyers. Jim had a 24/7 relationship with Monica, so I expect that's why he thinks in those terms."

  "I have a job that matters a lot to me. I'm not sure I want to give up control of that. With a contract, he could order me to quit."

  "Not if you set it up so your job is off limits. A contract is a negotiation. The Dom doesn't get to dictate what's in it. The sub has just as much input. You negotiate as equals, and if Jim tries to tell you differently, you can send him my way."

  "That sounds really great, Kate. Thanks a lot. I'll do that if we make it that far."