Around him, half a dozen other Doms all whistled and looked their fill.
“I thought she’d get your attention,” Thorpe drawled.
Completely. Logan’s gaze glued itself hungrily to the graceful line of her spine, cut in half by a gray sports bra. Tight black running shorts barely covered the lush globes of her ass. Though the beauty was way overdressed for her role, she sat back on her knees, legs spread, pose submissive. Mercy!
Logan rubbed his jaw. But the ache coursing through him wasn’t under his two days’ growth of beard; it had quickly settled south, behind his straining zipper, despite his orgasm fifteen minutes ago. Desire sizzled through him, along with shock. For the first time in years, he not only wanted inside a woman, he was desperate for it. Trying to cool down and process this development, he grabbed a bottle of water from the nearby cooler and drained half in two swallows.
Thorpe cleared his throat, clearly expecting a reply. As Logan forced himself to look at the club’s owner, a thousand responses ran through his head. Finally, he settled for something factual. “With that curvy ass and fiery hair? Yeah, she’s got my attention.”
He really had a thing for redheads. Always had.
In fact, everything about this woman set off Logan’s buttons. Such fair skin. He’d bet it would be damn soft and look so prettily pink after a good spanking. She radiated femininity, from the slender neck just under her pile of vibrant hair atop her head, to the sensual flare of her hips. Already, he wanted her the way he hadn’t wanted anyone in years—down, dirty, insatiably. Completely. He wanted to penetrate her, violate her, subjugate her. Every moment he watched her, the desire grew. Logan swallowed.
An unfamiliar thirtysomething man in jeans beside her issued orders. Logan couldn’t hear through the glass. Granted, he wasn’t the best at reading lips, but he thought the guy told her to bow her head. The stranger’s physique looked powerful enough to enforce his will . . . but he lacked any sort of commanding presence.
“Is this poser her Dom?” Logan drained the rest of his water bottle, wondering who the guy on the other side of the glass thought he was kidding.
Thorpe sighed. “Not yet. He needs to be. These two are actually FBI agents, training for an upcoming undercover assignment to break up a sex ring and rescue another agent. They’ve been in Axel’s dungeon for nearly a week. We’re not getting anywhere.”
“I have to be honest; it’s looking hopeless.” Axel, the club’s resident Dom, sighed.
In that instant, Logan knew that Thorpe had called together all the club’s Doms in the hopes that one of them could step in and train the delicious redhead in the next room. Yeah, she was still kneeling at the other man’s feet, but she had her hands on her hips. The sway of her body and the bobs of her head told Logan, she was giving her “Dom” an earful. He smiled.
Suddenly, he was damn glad he’d left Tyler, Texas, for Dallas during his leave to blow off some pent-up steam. Logan loved the navy, but constant missions to third world shit holes didn’t give him many opportunities to indulge in his kink of choice. But after yesterday, he needed to release tension even more. Over breakfast with his dad, Logan had seen an engagement announcement in the Tyler Morning Telegraph that had knocked him flat. She was f**king marrying Brad Thompson. Every muscle in Logan’s body tensed at the thought of that raving ass-hat touching her, planting his children in her womb.
“You trying to crush that plastic?” Xander whispered, brow raised.
Thorpe, Axel, and the other Doms all stared.
Logan looked down and realized that he’d pulverized his water bottle. Muttering a curse, he threw it in the trash can, then focused on the scene through the glass. “She’s not submitting to him and she never will.”
“Which is where one of you comes in. Axel has agreed to coach the male agent one-on-one. But that leaves the female, and she needs a strong hand. I don’t have time for a project.”
Before anyone else could say a word, Logan volunteered. “I’ll do it.”
Thorpe paused, sizing him up. Logan refused to flinch or blink.
“Since you like the defiant ones, I thought this might be up your alley,” Thorpe stated. “But will you be too much for our little FBI agent? It’s her first field assignment.”
“I’ll give her whatever she needs,” Logan vowed. She was beautiful and seemingly brave. Field assignments with the FBI didn’t tend to be cakewalks.
“Except sex,” Jason, the bad-boy financial wizard, drawled.
“Fuck off,” Logan muttered.
“Sex isn’t required,” Thorpe advised, tossing a glare Jason’s way. “She just needs to learn protocol and obedience.”
The normally silent Erik shrugged. “You know I like the puttyin-my-hands type. I can tell by the finger wag, that ain’t her.”
Logan looked at her again. Watching that finger wag made him hard. Hell, everything about her made him hard. Any time he could spend touching the gorgeous woman in the next room would be time well spent. Maybe even cathartic. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this stiff so quickly after an orgasm, but looking at the redhead’s lush ass, his dick was fully saluting her.
Zeb, the last of the Doms in the room, just grunted. “I’m heading down to Cabo in a few days for vacation. Man, I’d love to—”
“But since you won’t be here, and I will . . .” Logan cut him off with a smile.
“Lucky bastard,” Zeb groused.
Thorpe stepped between them. “The agents don’t have long before their mission begins. They’re already working against the clock. The female agent is submissive, in my opinion. But she’s not letting go.”