“Oh, Dios,” she said under her breath, probably not realizing he had excellent hearing. Her hands rubbed against her thighs, and she edged away.
He chuckled. A sub should look slightly wary in a BDSM club. “Hold up your hands.”
After wrapping the long chain snugly around her waist, he clipped the short piece between the chain-belt and her cuffs to ensure she couldn't raise her hands much past her waist. Definitely not to her breasts.
He stepped back and let her experiment with the restrictions on her movement. She tried to pick up a glass and realized she had to bend over to get it. He got a nice flash of curvy buttocks. When she turned, she smiled at him, obviously pleased that she could work around the limits and still serve drinks.
Didn't fluster easily, did she? Yet. Stepping closer, Cullen used a finger to nudge the thin dress straps off her shoulders.
Although the dress still covered her breasts for the moment, she obviously realized the slinky material wouldn't stay up long. She tried to lift her hands and discovered the chains prevented her from stopping the inevitable. Her smile vanished, and sparks lit her amber eyes as she glared at him.
“I don't like that expression,” he said softly. She swallowed. When her scowl disappeared, she looked appealingly vulnerable. He cupped her cheek and felt the tiny tremble under his fingers. “Pretty little sub,” he murmured.
She stared up at him like a mouse trapped between the paws of a cat.
He forced down the urge to push past her defenses and see what else she would yield. Instead, he stepped away. “I left drinks on the bar for the rest of the Doms and subs here. You can bring them over by hand rather than using a tray. Of course, that might require more trips.” All of which would give the dress more time to fall down.
And she realized it too. The submissiveness disappeared, and her struggle not to glower was obvious. After a moment, she said, “Yes, Señor.” And set off.
“Pretty new to the scene, isn't she?” Quentin asked. A sub knelt at his feet, and the Dom stroked the young man's hair absently.
“Yes. We need to go easy on her for a while.” After chatting for a minute, Cullen walked over to sit by a roped-off area. He glanced at the scene and winced. One of the older Dommes had lashed her sub to the cobweb and slowly brushed a feather over the man's sensitive—and ticklish—areas. Damn. Cullen shook his head. He'd rather get whipped than tickled. After a minute, he turned to face the other way.
Andrea had made it back with two drinks without losing her top, but only her blatantly erect nipples kept the fabric up. Cullen grinned. She might feel embarrassed, but she was also aroused. Her face flushed when Quentin teased her, but she smiled at him as she handed out the drinks.
By the next trip, her bodice had fallen down, and she had a white-knuckled grip on the glasses. The last Dom, Wade, took his drink with a smile. He said something, probably about her breasts from the way her face turned red. He didn't touch, though. Although any Dom might command a trainee for basic service like barmaiding and cleaning, and might touch nonprivate areas, only the Shadowlands Masters could go further.
Cullen hadn't bothered to tell Andrea that; some anticipation never hurt a sub.
He relaxed and watched her trot back and forth with drinks for the submissives. In the flickering light, she looked like a golden statue come to life—one of the Greek ones where the women weren't stick figures. From her muttered curses and her skin coloring, he'd have thought her Hispanic, but her height and that whiskey-colored curly hair came from somewhere else. He thought about her application. Andrea…Eriksson. Nordic and Hispanic? Odd combination. Beautiful combination.
“You look tired, Cullen.” In his usual black leathers, Dan dropped onto the facing couch. “Problems?”
“Just work. I swear spring brings out the arsonists with the daffodils. There are days it feels like all of Tampa is burning. Where's your pretty sub?”
“Jessica grabbed her. Some party thing or such.” The cop nodded toward Andrea. “How'd we get a trainee I've never seen before?”
Good question. Fuck Antonio anyway. Andrea's soft laugh floated across the room and erased Cullen's irritation. “Special case. Let me introduce you.”
He waited until she finished serving, then called her name. When she saw him, red rolled into her cheeks. More than when she'd served the group of Doms. Interesting.
As she walked over, her breasts swayed nicely, and the brownish pink nipples tightened into hard peaks. Also interesting. He smiled at her as he and Dan rose. “Pet, this is Master Dan.”
When she looked up at Dan's hard face, she appeared intimidated for a second before her chin lifted. “How do you do,” she said, her frozen demeanor one of a queen. Or a Domme.
Dan blinked, and then his eyes narrowed. “I think I'd like you on your knees when you speak to me.” He pointed at the floor.
Cullen smothered a smile. Welcome to the Shadowlands, little sub.
Her lips tightened, and she took a step back.
Cullen could almost feel wills collide as Dan held her gaze. And then she dropped to her knees with a hard thud and bowed her head.
“Very good. Stay there until I return,” Dan growled. He walked with Cullen a short distance away. “What the hell kind of trainee is that?”
“I'll explain another time.” Cullen shook his head. “Although I just met her tonight, I can already see she'll be an interesting addition to the group.”
“If she challenged me, what'll she do to the novice Doms?”
“Looks like she needs a fast education in submission. But for now, we'll keep her limited to the Masters.” He slapped Dan's shoulder. “Send her over when you've finished introducing yourself.”
Cullen took a seat on a leather chair in an empty area and leaned back to watch.
Dan walked slowly around Andrea. Once. Twice. Not saying a word. A quiver went through her, making her breasts wobble. Dan bent, grasped her chin, and raised her face. Whatever he said made her cheeks streak red. Stepping back, he pointed to Cullen.
The flushed sub who scrambled to her feet and hurried over bore no resemblance to the haughty one of five minutes ago.
Cullen patted his knees. “Come and sit here.” She hesitated, and he could almost hear her ordering herself to comply.
She turned to turn to sit sideways, and he shook his head. “Straddle my knees.”
Andrea's hands fisted.
He raised an eyebrow. “That's an order, trainee.” The softness of his voice didn't disguise the steel.
The demand sent heat sizzling through her, yet something—that damned fear of being vulnerable—made her try to resist. But when she met the controlled power in his eyes, nothing could keep her from moving forward. She lowered herself onto his legs. With her thighs open like this, the short dress didn't cover…anything.
And his gaze dropped there. Then he smiled and slid her forward until she could see the black flecks in his deep green eyes. His jaw had roughened with a day's growth of dark beard, and deep lines were carved around his mouth and eyes. He looked hard. Cold.
Her body tightened, prepared to fight.
His gaze grew more intent. “Easy, pet.” He ran his hard hands up and down her thighs, the gentleness disconcerting. “Am I the only one who scares you, little sub? Or all men?”
The perceptive question took her off guard, and she hesitated. But she couldn't deny the trainer. “I…I have…when men”— especially big men—“get too close, too fast, I tense up.” A lot.
“And strike out?”
She winced. “Uh…I grew up in a hard neighborhood. A girl either fought back or got…hurt.” The sound of fabric tearing, the feel of hands closing…
“I see,” he said softly. “And you, Andrea? Did you get hurt?”
Her breath caught. “Not…completely. I managed to get away both times before…”
His eyes had turned a cold, cold green, but his warm hands wrapped gently around her clammy fingers. “Poor baby. You had it rough, didn't you?”
“You're angry.”
“Not at you, Andrea. I would enjoy meeting the men who attacked you, though.” He didn't finish, but his craggy face and icy eyes looked as dangerous as anything she'd ever seen on the streets.
She shivered.
He squeezed her fingers, and his gaze softened. “That past is something we'll discuss later. For now, tell me about your snooty response to Master Dan.”
Dios, talking about secrets sounded good in books, but in reality? Not that easy. She tried to move but couldn't. She looked down at the callused hands gripping hers so firmly. Restrained. Controlled. She shivered. She wanted to pull back and couldn't.
“I want your eyes on me, Andrea.”
She raised her eyes to meet his. Penetrating. Focused. First he'd ordered her to strip physically, now he wanted her to strip emotionally? She'd felt less exposed when she'd removed her clothing, but she sucked in a breath and tried to comply. “If I'm scared, I act tough. And it's worse here because I'm not dressed, and being a trainee is scary. Kind of.”
His fingers massaged her hands. “Have you ever fully submitted to anyone?”
The deep timbre of his voice made everything in her go weak. This was what she wanted and what terrified her at the same time. “I-I'm not sure.”