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Chapter Twelve
“We took a vacation from work, and you want to go to work?” They were back in Pax’s suite on Sunday night, after a four-hour drive, a short nap, and several hours spent reconnecting. He had asked her what she wanted to do tonight, and her answer had left him staring in confusion as if she had grown a second head.
“I don’t want to go to work. I want to go to the club as an observer.”
He still didn’t look convinced. “But, why?”
“I like the club. It’s exciting. I always see something I wasn’t expecting, and I always leave there horny as hell. I think it would be fun to enjoy it as a patron, to be able to sit, and have a drink, and talk to whomever I wanted, when I wanted and for as long as I wanted.”
“Okay. Wouldn’t you rather go to a different club? There are several nearby we could check out instead.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” she admitted. “I was kind of hoping it would be slow and mellow tonight since it’s Sunday. But, it wouldn’t be too overwhelming, because it’s still familiar. But if you don’t want to, it’s okay. We can do something else.”
Pax regarded her with contained amusement. “No, you’re right. You deserve to experience the scene as a participant or observer, and not just as staff. Get dressed. We’ll grab a quick dinner before we head in.”
She jumped up like a shot, squealing, and clapping her hands together as she ran to the closet. What did one wear to a BDSM club anyway?
Vowing to shop for some club-worthy attire, she settled quickly on her shortest and tightest little black dress and ran into the bathroom to get ready.
She showered quickly, and dressed, pulling her hair into a messy bun, not quite sure how one dressed to observe at one of these things, and not wanting to take the time to straighten or curl her hair. She did her makeup as quickly as possible and frowned at her reflection. She looked great for a night out at a regular club. At Aubergine, she would have blended right in. At Rojo, she was going to look like a pariah who didn’t belong.
Rummaging through her jewelry, she searched for a necklace that was similar to the one she had worn as part of her uniform the other night. So, she didn’t have a collar, but she could at least look like she had one.
An arm brushed her waist, and she jumped, startled at seeing Pax’s reflection in the mirror. He kissed her neck softly, and she nuzzled into him.
“Are you almost ready? I’m kind of hungry.”
“I have nothing to wear!” she whined, withdrawing from his grasp and turning to face him. “I look like a frumpy librarian.”
He looked her up and down, undressing her with his eyes. “You will be the hottest sub in the place. And you’ll be with me. I’ve never brought a sub there before.”
“What!” she exclaimed in shock. “Really? Not ever?”
His finger came to rest across her lips. “Shh. I’ve never brought anyone there as my sub, because I’ve never wanted to. Nor have I been in a committed D/s relationship since Rojo began. I’m not very good at balance, and I’m a bit of a workaholic. Until you came along, I’ve never been tempted to blur the lines between work and pleasure. It hadn’t even occurred to me.”
Her mouth rounded into an O of surprise behind his finger. “I’m sorry, Paxton. I didn’t realize. We don’t have to go. Or, we could go, and just go—I don’t have to go as your sub—I don’t even have to go as your date. I—” she cutoff abruptly when Pax’s hand lifted from her lips and came out in front of him as if to stop her tirade in its tracks.
“Stop. We’re going. Just because I haven’t done something yet doesn’t mean I shouldn’t. And what is this nonsense of not going as my sub? It’s not a button you can push to turn it on and off at will. You’ll go as my sub, because that’s who you are. In this relationship, that is your identity. You are my sub, and you belong to me, and anytime we go out in public together, outside of work, that is your role. Do you understand?”
“Oh. Yes, I, uh… I just…” she opened her mouth and attempted to speak but nothing coherent came out as so many conflicting thoughts and emotions were swirling in her brain. She was turned on as hell at his speech, but unsure that she was cut out for the role of full-time submissive. What did that mean? Was she able? Was she worthy?
“So, if we go to the club tonight, you go as my sub. If you aren’t comfortable with that, we don’t go. My dominance is your protection, and without it, you have no business in a place like Rojo. If we go, you are at my mercy and disposal from the moment we step into the hallway until the moment we fall into bed tonight. You will obey me at every step. It will be good practice for you. We haven’t spent a lot of time out in public together.”
“Okay,” she whispered her agreement, nearly shaking with anticipation.
“I’m going to go get a few things ready,” he told her stepping into the open doorway. “Be ready in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” she agreed watching him go.
As she double checked her make-up, applied deodorant, and liberally coated herself with her favorite blackberry peach body spray, she wondered what sort of things he needed to get ready. It was commonplace at Rojo for doms to bring an assortment of toys and implements with them, within reason. She drew the line at the leash. If Pax ever brought it up as an expectation, they would have to have a serious come to Jesus meeting.
She had no idea how long it had been when Pax called out to her. She was wound so tightly that every minute seemed like an hour. She entered the sitting area of the suite to find Pax dressed to the nines in black slacks, a black shirt and a vest. He was sitting on the couch, with his legs open in a V and he motioned for her to stand between them.
She went slowly, her legs shaking as she walked.
“Inspection time.” He motioned for her to twirl, and let out a low whistle of appreciation as she turned. “Very nice,” he murmured appreciatively as she faced him again. “There’s just one problem. You’re wearing panties.”
“I’m sorry?” Whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn’t that.
