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Again, her gaze zeroed in on her collar. If she was going to do this, Grace knew she needed to take it off. She couldn’t truly move on if she was still wearing another man’s collar.
Her hands shook as she eased them beneath her hair at the nape of her neck and her fingers grazed the clasp. It took her several attempts, but finally it came free. She held it in both her hands, staring at it for what felt like forever before closing her eyes and forcing herself to breathe.
Once she was fairly sure she wouldn’t lose it, Grace crossed the room to her closet. She lifted a small cardboard box from the shelf and placed it on the bed. Inside were several of Kurt’s things, things she wasn’t willing to part with, including a dried flower from their first date.
Grace opened the box and was immediately assaulted by memories. It took everything in her not to say fuck it, put her collar back on, and stay home. But that wasn’t what Kurt wanted for her.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she placed her collar inside the box along with her wedding ring, closed it, and put the box back in the closet. She ran out of the house, needing to get away before she changed her mind.
***
Grace took a shaky breath, opened her car door, and placed her feet on the pavement. Each step she took toward the brick building felt heavier than the one before. She felt naked. Exposed. And utterly terrified. It was the first time she’d been without her collar for almost ten years.
It had been over a month since Alexander had delivered her husband’s letter to her. A month that she’d spent preparing for today—the first step in fulfilling her master’s last command.
When she reached the door, a little voice in the back of her head told her she still had time to turn around and leave. Seconds before she followed that voice, the door opened and a woman appeared. “You must be Grace.”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded shaky to her own ears, but maybe Katrina Mayer, the owner of Serpent’s Kiss, couldn’t hear it. At least that’s what she was hoping.
“Come. We’ll go to my office.”
Grace followed Katrina inside. They walked through a small foyer, then a larger one. Then they stepped into what had to be the club itself. It was empty, of course—it was the middle of the day, after all—but Grace could still picture what it would be like full of people. She swallowed and clutched her purse tighter to her chest.
They went down a short hallway before reaching Katrina’s office. There was a large wooden desk in the center of the room, two chairs, a love seat, and some filing cabinets. It looked like any other office.
“Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you,” Grace whispered, lowering herself down into one of the chairs.
Katrina leaned back in her chair and Grace tried not to fidget. She hadn’t known what to expect from the club mistress. Katrina had been nice enough on the phone when she’d called and explained who she was and why she was calling, but people weren’t always the same in person as they were on the phone. When Grace had spoken with her, she would have guessed Katrina to be around Grace’s age, but if Grace had to guess, she’d say the club’s mistress was closer to fifty.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Grace? You said it’s been less than a year?” She was surprised at the level of sympathy she heard in the woman’s voice.
The best thing to do was be honest. “I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t think I’m going to until I try.”
Over the last two weeks, she’d been out to dinner with Alexander several more times and each time it had gotten a little easier. They’d formed a friendship of sorts. He didn’t know many people in St. Louis and she needed to start living again, something she hadn’t done much of since moving back home. Alexander seemed to understand that. He’d helped her get ready for this next step even though he didn’t fully understand what that next step was.
Katrina stared at her from across the desk for a long minute before speaking. “Did you bring your paperwork with you?”
“Yes.” Grace pulled the papers from her purse and handed them to Katrina. One was an explanation of the club’s rules, which Grace had to sign. The rest were her test results. All club members had to be tested for STIs every six months.
The club mistress took her time scanning over the documents, making sure everything was in order. She laid the papers on the desk. “Do you have any questions for me before we take a tour of the club?”
Grace shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
They headed down the hall back to the large room. “The club is open Friday and Saturday from six in the evening until two in the morning. There’s no attendance requirement, however, the more often you come the more comfortable you’ll get with the club and its members.” She stopped and held Grace’s gaze. “I know this is a big step for you.”
“It is.” Grace started to reach for her collar, but then remembered it was no longer there. If she was going to find a new Dom, she couldn’t be wearing her husband’s collar.
Another wave of sadness and anxiety rolled through her.
Katrina gave her a minute, and then they continued on. The first floor had plenty of seating, a bar, a dance floor and a stage. Katrina explained that the stage was used for demonstrations.
“Would you like a water before we head upstairs?” Katrina asked, moving behind the bar.
“Yes, please.” Grace felt parched and she had no idea why. Probably nerves.
After handing Grace a bottle of water, Katrina led the way over to the staircase up to the second floor. “Over there,” she said, pointing to a hallway behind the stairs, “are the locker rooms. We don’t have a dress code here. You can dress how you feel comfortable.” Katrina’s eyes lit up. “Or however your Master or Mistress desires.”
