As Lucy skips to the other side of his desk, I glance at the other man and recognize him from Surrender. He’s in the lifestyle. I wouldn’t forget him. He’s about six feet tall and broad. Dark hair cut short. Tanned skin. Bulging muscles as if he works out all the time. He’s wearing faded jeans and a white button-down shirt that accentuates his tan. I imagine him to be in his late thirties.
He smiles at me and holds out a hand. “Kellen Townsend.”
I take his hand, not surprised by how firm his handshake is. “Sabine Bridges.”
“I’ve seen you at Surrender. You’re a friend of Abby’s.”
“Yes.” I swallow, wondering if it would be appropriate for me to address him as Sir and just as quickly ditching that idea since I have yet to decide where I fit into this new world I’m dabbling in. I’ve repeatedly insisted I’m just researching so I can write about my experiences, but I’ve also dipped my toe in both the dominant and submissive side of the community.
The truth is that watching makes me itch to try out new things. Any good research would include some experimenting. My curiosity has been piqued by the entire fetish community for years, but more so in the last two years since Abby moved to Seattle to live with three Doms.
“I watched you working with Claudia last weekend.” Is it my imagination or is he smirking?
I nod, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks, also knowing I can’t hide it. My skin is so pale that my cheeks are frequently rosy. The only color on my body is the dabbling of freckles across my nose and trickled all over me. The fact that anyone can easily tell when I’m embarrassed has always infuriated me, but I can’t do a thing about it.
“You were struggling,” he points out, not beating around the bush.
“Yeah.” I sigh. “I’m new to the community. Trying everything out for my research. I don’t think I passed any sort of flogger exam.”
He lifted his brows. “Probably because you were on the wrong end of the flogger.”
I suck in a breath. He’s damn observant. “Maybe.” I glance down but then decide to defend myself so he doesn’t think I’m submissive. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. But I haven’t decided yet, so I don’t want him to assume. “I don’t have the personality for submission. I’m headstrong and self-sufficient.”
Kellen chuckles.
Master Roman does too, and I glance over to find he has tucked Lucy against his chest and is idly playing with one of her braids. “I’m quite certain that between all the Doms living in the house where you’re staying, you’ve been told more than once that submission has nothing to do with how you are in the outside world.”
I stand as tall as I can as I respond. “Yeah. They’ve explained that to me. Can’t say I’m fully grasping it. Seems far-fetched. I’ve worked my butt off to get through school with a master’s in English. I’m a pretty dominant personality in any crowd.”
Kellen surprises me when he reaches out and tucks an unruly lock of my hair behind my ear before dropping his hand to his side. “Maybe in any crowd except the fetish crowd,” he suggests.
I shrug. “Maybe.” I’m reeling a bit from his touch. It was soothing. I tip my gaze back to meet his, acknowledging that I should not be attracted to this man. He is much older than me for one thing. I feel about as young as Lucy looks. I have no idea what he does for a living, but I haven’t even started a career yet at all. I’m still trying to convince my twenty-four-year-old self that I’m an adult.
Sure, I finished school with honors and should be looking for a job in my field, but the truth is, I’m spoiled and my parents have never pressured me to get a job. Honestly, I could live a comfortable life off my trust fund alone if I were so inclined, but I don’t want to be completely idle, either. It sounds boring. I need a challenge.
On the flip side, settling into “real life” gives me goosebumps. I’ve been avoiding the idea. Half the reason I continued my education was to avoid adulthood. In the last few years, I’ve settled down a bit. I’m not as mischievous or precocious as I used to be, but inside I’m still the same girl with wildly naughty thoughts.
“We were just about to play Monopoly,” Lucy announces, bouncing a bit against Master Roman.
He smiles down at her indulgently and slides his hand down her back to pat her butt. “Sounds fun. Go ahead. I’ll be in here meeting with Kellen for a while longer, so try not to be too loud, okay?” He lifts a brow.
She nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Master Roman bends down to kiss her forehead and then pats her ass again as she steps away.
“Come on.” She motions toward a door in the corner of the room. “My playroom is in here.”
I’m confused and a little surprised. She has a playroom attached to Master Roman’s office?
I follow her through the door, wondering if we should shut it to avoid bothering the men, but she doesn’t mention it, so I leave it alone.
The room is interesting. Along the outside wall, which is really a row of enormous floor-to-ceiling windows that look out into the amazing backyard, sits a normal adult desk. If someone were sitting at it, they would be able to see Master Roman at his desk through the doorway.
That side of the room is professional. To the left, as we enter, I notice an entire corner is set up for a child. That’s where Lucy heads. There’s a white bookshelf against the far wall. In front of it are a fluffy, pink beanbag chair and an oval rug in pastels. The shelves are covered with books and toys.
Lucy slides the game from the shelf and plops down onto the floor on
