The Collar Page 3

  Jeff shook his head. From what he knew of Nathaniel, the man wouldn’t stop until he’d made her come.

  Nathaniel slipped the fingers of one hand inside her while remaining pressed against her back. While he worked her body, it seemed as if he closed out the crowd around them, focusing all his attention on his wife. Though Jeff had watched many scenes in the past, the one before him seemed somehow more intimate than the others. Nathaniel and Abby appeared to breathe in unison, they were so connected.

  “Oh, fuck!” Abby panted.

  “Give me what I want, baby,” Nathaniel murmured, obviously knowing she couldn’t hear.

  Abby rose to her toes and started babbling German. Jeff chuckled, remembering it was her way of delaying orgasm.

  “None of that now.” Nathaniel shifted his fingers. “You’re going to come for me.”

  She was obviously fighting it for some reason, but Nathaniel was undeterred, rocking his hips against her backside while still working his fingers.

  “You’re going to come, and you’re going to come now.” His mouth was at her neck as he spoke; then he nipped her shoulder.

  “Holy fucking shit!” she shouted, the German forgotten as her husband obviously then did something new with his hand. “I can’t … FUCK.”

  Her body stiffened briefly, and then she babbled as her climax rippled through her. A satisfied hum fell over the crowd, and Nathaniel kissed her shoulder and pulled out the earplugs.

  “That’s my girl,” he said before unbuckling her and removing the blindfold. He looked around the room, searching, and his gaze fell on Jeff’s.

  A room, Jeff thought. He’d want a private room to take her to.

  He pushed back from the wall, found Daniel, and mouthed, “Blue bedroom.” Daniel nodded in agreement. The blue bedroom was used exclusively for aftercare at parties. Jeff waited until Nathaniel had Abby gathered in his arms before leading him down the hall to the bedroom.

  He checked the room to make sure it had an adequate stock of blankets and water; then he closed the door behind him, giving the couple the privacy they needed. Jeff was sure people would have questions for the visiting pair, but it was understood those would have to wait.

  Out in the hallway, he looked again for Dena but didn’t see her. He’d go set up the room for their demo and then check again for her.

  She still hadn’t made it to the party when he finished setting up for their demo. Impatient and worried, he waited for her outside on one of the guesthouse’s private porches. The possibility she wouldn’t show existed, he decided, recalling the conversation he had with her when he’d called her about the demo.

  “Julie’s sick? But I spoke to her last night and she was fine.”

  “I’m just telling you what Daniel told me.”

  “I swear, if I didn’t know her better …”

  “Yes?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Listen, Dena, if you’re not up to it or don’t want to—”

  “No. It’s fine. I’ll be there.”

  Jeff saw the headlights of her car approaching and slung his bag over his shoulder. As he watched, she parked and got out of the car. Wrapping her coat tightly around her body, she glanced over her shoulder before walking toward him.

  She nodded at his bag. “I thought you said basics? You pack your entire playroom?”

  God, he loved her wit. In the years since their split, he’d been with enough women to know he’d never find her equal. Aside from her physical beauty, she had a lively intellect and a carefree attitude. And though she was a brilliant attorney who could command an entire courtroom, it was when she submitted herself to his control that she fully came alive.

  “Don’t ask a question you don’t want the answer to,” he said. Half the fun of play was getting inside her mind, and he’d always enjoyed catching her off guard.

  As expected, his words sobered her up. “You’re right, Sir. I apologize.”

  “You were almost late,” he said.

  “But I wasn’t.”

  He nodded. “We’re going to be in the sitting room off the kitchen. I want you in position in twenty minutes. Proper position this time. None of that sloppy business like the last time, unless you want to see exactly what I have in my bag in long and excruciating detail. Understood?”

  Her chin lifted. “Completely, Sir.”

  Seventeen minutes later he walked into the sitting room and frowned. Dena was nowhere to be seen. She had three minutes left, but it wasn’t like her not to be at least five minutes early. After Nathaniel’s demo, he’d positioned a padded table in the room. Daniel had planned only to demonstrate a flogging, but Jeff had decided to add a bondage element as well.

  He glanced over the people moving through the guesthouse. The crowd had grown since the earlier demo, mostly new people, though he did recognize quite a few of those present. His gaze fell on a large clock. One minute left. Was she baiting him?

  Five minutes after the demo was supposed to start, he looked across the room to Daniel and raised an eyebrow. Daniel looked out into the hallway and shook his head.

  Jeff sighed. Well, fuck.

  “Sorry to disappoint everyone, but it looks like we’re not going to be having the scheduled demo,” Jeff said to the crowd.

  There was murmuring as the crowd broke up. Nathaniel had been standing near the back with his arms around Abby, but as the crowd left, he took her hand and led her to where Jeff stood.

  “What’s happening?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Missing a submissive,” Jeff said. “I know she’s here. I spoke to her when she arrived. Gave her plenty of time to get ready.”

  Abby whispered something to Nathaniel. At his nod, she spoke. “Is it Dena, Sir?”

  “Yes. Have you seen her?”

  “Our paths crossed in the bathroom. I was walking out, and she was walking in. I only remember because she was on the phone and I thought that odd.”

  Jeff glanced at Nathaniel. “Do you mind if Abby goes to see if she’s still there and if everything’s okay?”

  “Of course not.” He turned to his wife. “Abigail?”

  “Be right back, Master,” she said, spinning to walk out the door.

  “Has she done this before?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Never. She’s always on time. Early even.” Jeff looked up as Daniel came back into the room. “Is she ever late for a mentor session?”

  “No. She’s always early,” Daniel said.

  So what was her problem tonight? Jeff wondered. He had a sinking suspicion it was him. He was the reason she hadn’t shown up. Hell, she hadn’t sounded like she wanted to do the demo in the first place. That much had been obvious when he’d called her.

  “You probably should have asked another Dom to run the demo with her,” he told Daniel.

  “No,” he answered. “She should have spoken up if she had an issue with it. She’s experienced enough to know better.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  The three men turned toward the door. Dena stood there with her hands on her hips. She was still wearing her party outfit, which was against the rules for a submissive in a demo.

  “And she should know better than that,” Daniel added with a pat on Jeff’s shoulders. “You were the Dom in the demo; I’ll let you handle her.”

  “Thanks,” Jeff muttered. He’d been looking forward to the demo with Dena; this coming confrontation he was not looking forward to.

  “Dena.” Nathaniel nodded to her on his way out.

  “Sirs,” she said as he and Daniel walked by her.

  The two men closed the door behind them, leaving Jeff and Dena alone.

  “Where did everyone go?” Dena asked. “I thought we were going to do a demo? Why—”

  Jeff snapped his fingers, and she stopped talking. “On your knees. Now. No talking unless I ask you a question.”

  She huffed but knelt down where she was.

  “The demo was scheduled to start twenty minutes ago. You didn’t show
up, so I canceled it.”

  “I was just running a little late—”

  “Did I ask a question?” He wasn’t sure what had gotten into her tonight. She was never this disrespectful or belligerent.

  “No, Sir.”

  “Then you are not to speak.”

  She exhaled deeply.

  “I’m extremely disappointed in your behavior tonight. I had a scene planned and prepared. I came early to set up. You didn’t even have the decency to show up on time. That was your only job tonight—to show up on time—and you didn’t do it. Then, when you did decide to stroll in, you showed up in your clothes.” He kept her in his sight while he talked. She was shaking a bit. Probably afraid of what he was going to do. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “I lost track of time, Sir.”

  “Lost track of time? I’ve known you for years and you have never been late. Are you okay? Is there something going on?” Because her behavior was so out of character, he had to be sure.

  “No, Sir. I’m fine.”

  He walked to where she knelt. “Look at me.” When she lifted her head, he continued. “I’m not fine. I’m the opposite of fine. It’s your fault, and you’re going to deal with the consequences.”

  Chapter Two

  Seven years ago

  Dena took a deep breath and knocked on the door to the large two-story house that stood just on the outskirts of Wilmington, Delaware. Though she’d been a sexual submissive for four years, she always felt slightly apprehensive when showing up at her first function with a new group.

  She’d recently taken a job in the district attorney’s office and had moved to Wilmington a few weeks ago. Being somewhat settled in her new apartment and job, she’d searched for a local BDSM group. The day before, she’d attended a group meeting and filled out paperwork so that she could join the play party tonight.

  The group’s dynamics had impressed her. They were structured, without being overly so. The guidelines were simple, fair, and in place to provide safety and confidentiality. She felt comfort in knowing her previous Dominant would have never been accepted.

  “The asshole,” she mumbled while waiting for the door to open. Then she shook her head; she wasn’t going to think about him tonight. This was a new start, and she was ready to meet new people.

  The front door opened and a guy with a shaved head and a friendly smile greeted her with a warm “Hello.”

  She shook his hand and noted he wore a green bracelet, a switch, according to the group’s color system. As a submissive, Dena’s bracelet was red. A Dom or Domme would have a black one.

  “Hi,” she said. “Dena J.”

  The guy looked over his clipboard, and a frown came over his face. “I don’t see your name, Dena J.”

  “My first meeting was yesterday. I filled out the papers there.”

  “Your name should still be here.” He looked up. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you in.”

  She squared her shoulders and tried not to show how disappointed she was. “I filled out and turned in all the paperwork yesterday. I’m all dressed up.” She had bought a new corset specifically for the party. It was a deep blue and black lace piece that gave her slim figure curves. “Isn’t there something you can do? Please.”

  His frown deepened. “I really can’t, but—” He turned and looked over his shoulder, speaking to someone behind him. “Master Parks, I need your help, Sir.” He turned back to Dena and said, “Stay here for a minute.”

  A few people looked her way in curiosity and she sighed. There went her hope of blending in unnoticed. Maybe she should leave, try again next month, or try a new group altogether.

  “Is there a problem?”

  The voice was low and deep, and something about it made her heart pound. She looked up and met the eyes of the voice’s owner. He was tall and well built, with short dark hair and dark eyes that were somber and serious. There was something in the way he moved, though, the way his long legs covered the distance to her, that exuded sexual confidence. He came to a stop right in front of her, crossed his arms, and frowned. Her gaze slid from his face to his muscular biceps and then to the floor. The entire time, her heart continued its racing beat.

  “This is Dena J,” the guy who opened the door said. “She went to the meeting yesterday and filled out paperwork, but her name’s not on the list.”

  “I wasn’t there,” Master Parks said. “I can’t say one way or another.”

  There was a long silence while Dena kept looking at the floor, but she felt his eyes on her so she knew he was still considering what to do with her. It took almost all of her self-discipline and years of experience as a submissive to remain still under his scrutiny.

  “Look at me,” he finally said, and she knew he wasn’t talking to the greeter.

  Her gaze met his once more, and his dark eyes searched hers. It was so intense, it was as if he could somehow peel away the mask she always wore and little by little expose her soul. She felt more naked than she’d ever been in her entire life.

  “Dena,” he said.

  Her reply was a whisper. “Yes, Sir?”

  “I understand you were at the meeting yesterday and somehow your paperwork got lost?”

  Maybe he had some blank forms with him. She’d just fill them out again. “Yes, Sir.”

  But he didn’t move to get papers or anything. He just kept staring at her. “I’ll vouch for her,” he finally said, not once looking at the greeter.

  “Thank you, Master Parks,” the man said.

  He simply nodded in reply and motioned for Dena to follow him. “Come with me. I’ll show you where you can put your coat.”

  When he turned and walked toward a hallway, she shivered. Partly because of his scrutiny, but even more so because as she’d looked into his eyes, she’d observed his own secrets. He, too, wore a mask. She had the overwhelming urge to see what was under it.

  For the moment, though, she followed behind him as he wove in and out of the small groups of other people in the house. He nodded to a few, spoke a greeting to one or two. There were a variety of people in attendance. A few couples appeared to be paired up, but they passed a group of four women who all watched as Master Parks walked by.

  At the end of the hallway, he pushed open a door to a small bedroom. A pile of coats covered the twin bed in the middle of the room.

  “You can leave your coat in here.”

  She unbuckled the belt of her raincoat and shrugged out of it. “Thank you, Sir.”

  She’d expected him to leave, but instead he watched as she put her coat on top of the pile. Quite on purpose, she stretched out as she laid it down, knowing that by doing so, she’d be showing off her toned legs. She mentally patted herself on the back for selecting the miniskirt to wear with the corset instead of the long, flowing one.

  Makes getting up at five a.m. to jog worth it.

  “How long have you been a submissive?” he asked.

  “Four years, Sir.”

  “You’ve played in public?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  She turned around to find he was, in fact, watching her and with a look that clearly said he knew exactly what she’d been up to. A faint smile touched his lips. Just barely noticeable. But there. A surge of victory shot through her.

  “Four years,” he repeated. “The assumption would be that because of your experience, you don’t need a detailed rundown of protocol.” Before she could respond, he continued. “I’ve learned, however, that assumptions typically come back to kick your ass, so I’ll give you a rundown anyway.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” She was relieved. She’d read the paperwork, but not everything had been spelled out as clearly as she