Initiation (Master Class, #1) - Sierra Cartwright Page 0,1

took a step in her direction.

Suddenly, Logan realized he did want to be the man behind her, pressing her against the wood, instructing her to lift her arms high so he could affix her wrists to a pair of cuffs.

Instead, another man had that honor.

The man secured her in place and she immediately pulled her right wrist free. If Logan were in charge, he wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. Even if all she wanted was a taste of his dominance, he’d make sure she would never forget the experience.

After putting her wrist back in place, Master Simon rubbed her buttocks through her skirt.

Logan’s cock thickened.

Because he needed human contact to maintain his sanity, he showed up at Joe and Noelle’s events several times a year. While watching others scene interested him, he’d rarely gotten aroused from it.

Then again, he’d rarely had this kind of visceral reaction to a woman.

Master Simon selected a sturdy leather paddle. It wasn’t a bad decision, Logan mused. The toy was intimate, but not overly so. And since her delectable derrière was covered by her skirt, the impact would be minimal. Good choice for a neophyte.

Master Simon gave the sub three swats.

The third made her move her body to one side—something she did easily since her ankles weren’t secured.

That was a mistake Logan wouldn’t have made.

He wanted his subs to feel every damn thing he did to them. He wanted them aware, aroused, interested, committed, and he wanted them to stay in place while it was happening.

Without any change to the rhythm, Master Simon delivered two more swats.

Then the man put down the paddle on a nearby bench, and she freed herself from the restraints.

Logan blinked. Was the scene already over?

Jennifer turned toward Simon, adjusted her skirt, then smiled politely before scurrying up the staircase.

With a curse, Logan pushed away from the wall and followed. If she had scened with him, there would have been no bland, polite smiles afterward. At the very least, he would have talked to her and asked questions instead of allowing her to walk away.

When he found her, she was near the front door, reaching to take her coat from a rack.

“May I?” he asked.

“I…” She dropped her hand and turned toward him before meeting his gaze.

Until they were this close, he hadn’t known her eyes were blue, bright and vibrant.

He wanted to see them widen with shock, darken with desire. “Logan Powell,” he said by way of introduction as he grabbed her coat and held it for her.

“Thank you.” She settled into it, then knotted the belt around her waist as she faced him.

“I watched your scene with Master Simon.”

Her shoulders stiffened.

“You didn’t seem all that into it.”

Her mouth was pressed into a firm line, making him realize he wasn’t any more adept than Simon had been. Bulldozing on, Logan took a business card from his wallet and offered it to her.

She hesitated and he wasn’t sure she’d accept it.

“Feel free to call me if you want to experience a real scene.”

“That felt real to me.” She rubbed her behind.

“Perhaps I’m mistaken,” he allowed. “But it seemed as if you might have wanted something more. BDSM is not just about impact. There’s a mental and emotional component as well. Trust is involved, and so is getting exactly what you’re looking for. I think you know that.”

She glanced at his contact information before taking his card and stuffing it into her pocket.

After saying good night but not responding to his offer, she left, closing the door behind her with a decisive click.

“Your technique’s a little rusty,” Joe observed.

“How long have you been lurking?” Logan pivoted to glare at his friend.

“Lurking? I prefer to think of it as making sure my guests find their way out safely.”

“He’s being nosy,” Noelle said, joining them. She pressed her fingertips to her husband’s forearm.

Logan didn’t miss the sign of deference and affection toward her Dom. Until this moment, he hadn’t envied the pair their hard-won relationship. Tonight, though, he felt a twinge of regret for the choices he’d made.

“I was hoping Jennifer would talk to you,” Noelle said.

“Maybe if Logan had more tact than your average gorilla, he might have had a chance.”

Noelle frowned at Joe.

“She took my card,” Logan said in his own defense. And maybe, maybe, she’d call.

* * * *

“You should call him,” Noelle said.

“Call who?” Jennifer feigned ignorance.

Noelle snagged a garlic bread stick from a basket and wagged it at Jennifer.

“Who are you talking about?” asked Eden, another member of

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