It was a statement, not a question. I looked at the server and nodded. Even though I wrote about Club Breathless, I’d never crossed the threshold until tonight. And after reading the rules and signing a confidentiality agreement, I wasn’t sure if meeting Michelle here was such a good idea.
“You’ll do fine. Just breathe.”
Some of the tension holding me rigid eased and I managed to give the server, whose name tag stated Ava, a tight smile.
“Thanks, Ava. Can I get a rum and coke?”
“Sure. Light, amber or dark?”
She scribbled onto her pad. “How do you know you didn’t order a Dominant?”
At my tiny gasp she grinned and pivoted toward the bar. Good thing I have a sense of humour, otherwise I’d have beaten a hasty retreat.
Ava set my drink in front of me when I spotted Michelle, hovering at the entrance and I waved her over to our booth. She sat across from me and gave Ava her order.
I grinned at her. “Thanks for meeting me here.”
“Are you kidding? Who doesn’t want to see the club you write about?”
She scanned the interior, blushing a little at the few people who were almost naked dancing in the small space carved out between the tables. Maybe dancing was too broad a term. Clothing seemed to be optional, and most opted from little to none. Although scenes were not allowed in the open bar area, most used it as a warm up while waiting for play equipment to become available.
But then Michelle’s eyes widened when she reached the area behind me. "Ohhh…. Who is the gorgeous hunk at the bar?”
I glanced over my shoulder and for the second time that night emitted a tiny gasp.
Seated on a bar stool, one long leg propped on the brass ring, the other stretched out in front of him was Jonah Carter. Light from a wrought iron sconce highlighted his cheekbones and made his midnight blue eyes look even darker, if possible. Firm lips moved into a smile as he spoke to Ava, and that oh-so-famous dimple creased the side of his cheek.
“That’s Jonah Carter,” I whispered, even though he couldn’t possibly hear me over the music.
“The Jonah Carter? Isn’t he a Dungeon Keeper or something like that?”
“Dungeon Master.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Have you read any of my stories?”
Michelle nodded, not taking her eyes off Jonah. “He monitors the play areas.”
“Yes. He and the more experienced Doms make sure everything at Club Breathless is safe, sane and consensual.”
“Does he like meeting new people?” Michelle's voice sounded strangely breathy and I knew, without even looking up that Jonah had joined us. Tingles of heat spread through my body at the thought of such an experienced Dominant singling us out.
“Good evening, ladies.” His rough Cajun accent feathered down my spine and my stomach did a funny little flip. I have a good idea why Beth Sanders fell for this man. He oozed sexuality.
Michelle scooted over, patting the empty space beside her. She practically purred as his big frame filled the seat across from me, “You must be Jonah Carter. Madison told me everything about you.”
He looked directly at me and his right eyebrow rose. “Everything?”
I bit back a sigh. Could the man get any sexier?
“Oh yes,” Michelle continued. “How you hired Beth Sanders to be your secretary and she had no idea you were also the Dungeon Master teaching her to be a good submissive. Very naughty of you, keeping Beth blindfolded all the time.”
“Well, Michelle, as Madison likes to say, ‘some things are meant to be naughty’.” He leaned across the table and cradled my hand. Mesmerized, I watch his thumb stroke softly across the back of my fingers. All the sounds in the bar faded to a distant hum. I knew I shouldn't be turned on, but day-am.
When Jonah lifted the hand-I'll-never-wash-again to his mouth, I forgot to breathe. His faint smile against my skin told me that he knew it too. “Next time give some advance notice. I’ll escort you around the club and introduce you to some of the… perks that come with being a Dungeon Master.”
His smouldering gaze, rife with promise, assured me he’d make it worth my while.
Instantly my nipples puckered into tight buds at the silent suggestion and I clenched my thighs to ease the ache. I couldn’t help the quick flash of disappointment when he stood and nodded to Michelle, then stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers.
“I look forward to seeing you again.”
Both of us watched him walk away, his stride graceful and fluid, like a panther.
When I finally looked back at Michelle, she mouthed the word, ‘Wow’.
“See?” I said with a shrug, “I had to write about him.”
Actor Ian Somerholder - my inspiration for Jonah