Tymber Dalton - The Denim Dom

Funny how that works.

He found her physically attractive, fun to play with, and interesting to talk to. They had similar interests in reading, movies, TV, and music. He hadn’t seen her apartment yet, but unless she was a nominee for her own episode of Hoarding: Buried Alive, he didn’t see anything that threw up red flags for him.

She was obviously an independent woman. Leaving behind everyone and everything she knew to move across the country to a state she’d never been to before to take a new job had to be a huge step for her.

When it was time to settle the checks, he picked up hers and refused to let her argue. “Leave it, pet. It’s my treat.”

Her face flushed a little. He could tell from the way her gaze kept trying to drift down to her lap that she struggled with his order to look him in the eye. “Thank you, Sir. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“It’s not a problem. I can afford it, and I want to do it.”

He draped an arm around her shoulders for the walk out to his car. She fits me perfectly.

It wasn’t any large stretch to imagine what her body would feel like next to him in bed. However, that thought made his cock ache again, so he nipped it in the bud. He liked the way she leaned in against him as they walked.

“How are you feeling, pet?”

She smiled up at him. “Good, Sir.”

“Ready to play?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He stopped next to his car and took both of her hands. “I meant it when I say if something happens that you don’t like, safeword immediately. I don’t want to push you past your limits and have you hate me later. I’m not a douche.”

“I don’t think you’re a douche, Sir.”

“You’re really okay with everything we did earlier? You won’t hurt my feelings if you say no.”

“I’m really okay, Sir.”

“Good girl. I’m very proud of you for how you handled today. You did very well.”

She blushed. “Thank you, Sir.”

He opened the door for her and held it. “Take your collar out of your purse.” She did and handed it to him. She held her hair out of the way while he buckled it around her neck. “Now let’s go play.”

Butterflies multiplied in Shayla’s stomach at an alarming rate as they drew closer to the club. Armed with the confidence that she could stop events at any time, and with the support of the other women, she was determined to see the evening through to its conclusion.

I hope I don’t embarrass him.

She blinked, glad for the darkness of the car’s interior to hide her red cheeks. Where’d that come from?

The warm thrill from his praise still rolled through her.

I’m very proud of you.

When was the last time she’d heard those words out of anyone’s mouth since she graduated from college?

James had damn sure never said them to her. A memory flashed to mind, of the day two years earlier, when she’d received word about an IR series she’d written about Medicaid fraud in Cleveland receiving a state journalism award.

She’d picked up the phone and called James about it before telling anyone else.

His response?

“That’s nice. I’ll talk to you when I get home.”

How she’d bit back disappointment at his disinterested tone, swallowed her pride, and not mentioned it again to him.

Neither had he.

How could I have been so fucking blind for so long?

Yet the man never hesitated to crow about his work accomplishments, even getting a tad petulant with her if she didn’t stroke his ego.

Maybe she was the crazy one after all, and the women and men she’d met in BDSM dynamics were the sane ones. They all asked for what they wanted and didn’t settle. She’d spent eight years settling. Even before she moved in with James, once they’d started dating, she recalled times she’d changed things around in her apartment to please him regardless of how she felt about it.

How when they moved in together, it was easier for her to go along with what he wanted than to put up with his whining and badgering until she gave him his way.

She’d spent the first several weeks of her time in Florida doing her best not to think about James or what she’d been through, with the exception of the good times. She hadn’t wanted to come to the conclusion that she’d flushed eight years of her life down the toilet.

Now, that realization slapped her in the face. When piled upon her mental scales, she couldn’t ignore any longer that the good times she’d had with James were far outnumbered by the bad. Especially when she realized how much of her own personality and needs she’d put aside to make room for James and what she’d previously thought women were supposed to do in a relationship.

Then add in the mental anguish and money he’d caused, and cost, her.

It’s a lesson I won’t soon forget.

Tony’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Are you all right, pet?”

They sat at a red light. The dashboard lights illuminated his concerned glance.

She reached over, found his hand, and squeezed. “I think,” she softly said, “that I’m better than I’ve been in a long time, Sir.”

He squeezed back and rewarded her with a smile. “Good. You looked pretty consternated there.”

She laughed. “My boss calls it ‘vexated.’”

He nodded as the light turned green and they started off again. “That’s another good word, too. I hope I’m not the one vexating you.”

She settled back in her seat. “No, Sir. I think you’re the one unvexating me.”

It would be a busy night at the club. Shayla saw that nearly two dozen cars already sat in the parking lot when they pulled in behind Leah and Seth.

Before they got out, Tony patted her on the thigh. “Remember, pet. All you have to do at any time is say red and everything stops. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

She watched as his eyes seemed to search her face. “I don’t want to push you too hard.”

“I’m all right, Sir. I want to be pushed.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Be careful how you say that. You might find yourself coding sooner than you realize. But seriously, I don’t want to be a douche—”

“Sir, please stop saying that. You’re not a douche.” She blew out a long breath. “Believe me, I know douches, and you’ve been anything but that.”

The pity she read in his expression nearly made her burst into tears. “I’m sorry, pet. He did put you through the bad kind of mindfuck, didn’t he?”

She nodded. “I really don’t want to think about him anymore tonight. I’d rather spend the time letting you disengage my brain again, Sir.”

As she said it, she realized that was exactly what it had felt like earlier.

He cocked his head. “What just went through your mind, pet? You look like you had an epiphany.”

She ran her tongue over her front teeth as she considered it. She nudged her glasses up on her nose. “I think I did, Sir.”

“Tell me.”

She had no trouble meeting his gaze. “What we did earlier…it’s like my brain just shut off.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

She slowly nodded. “All I could focus on was what you were doing to me. Nothing else.” A sense of wonder flowed through her. “I’ve never felt like that before.”

He smiled. “I’ve heard subspace will do that to a person.”

“Is that what it was?”

“From what I saw on my end, I think so.”

She took a long, deep breath and let it out again before grinning. “I’d like to experience that again, Sir.”

His grin probably matched hers. “You don’t have to ask twice, pet. It’ll be my pleasure, believe me.”

She locked her glasses and her wallet in her car after getting her driver’s license and a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet. Tony left his whip bag in the trunk and only got his cane case and toybag. She followed him inside the lobby and felt anticipation expanding in her chest.

She did want to do that again. Hit that blessed plateau where the only thing in her world that mattered was what Tony Daniels did to her.

She also thought she might have taken one step closer to comprehension.

They got checked in and found a place for their things near the play equipment. “Can I ask a stupid question, Sir?”

He grinned. “Sure.”

“Why do you all go out to eat when the buffet is included in the price?”

He shrugged. “We’ve been doing it for years. It started as an offshoot of the Suncoast Society Munch group.” He lowered his voice as people walked past them. “You know how you have different kinds of friends, like office coworkers, and good buddies you’ve known for years, and people you’re socially acquainted with but aren’t really friends with, like that?”

She nodded.

“It’s the same for us here. I’ve got friends, like Seth and Leah, who I’ve known for years and consider good friends, even outside the lifestyle. I know plenty of people on a first-name-only basis through the scene that I usually only see here, but I wouldn’t necessarily want to associate with them in vanilla life. If that makes sense?”

She nodded.

“I don’t mean to come off sounding like an asshole by saying that. But those of us who come to the weekly dinner, we’re all friends first, outside of the lifestyle and in it. We met through the lifestyle, but our friendships became something more, something solid and lasting. While there are a lot of nice people in the lifestyle, some of them are, to me, like coworkers. It’s okay to socialize with them in certain settings, but I don’t necessarily want to broaden that contact to other areas of my life. I keep the boundaries firmly in place.”