Not to mention, my landlord and my employer.
Not anymore.
I was now single, homeless, and jobless. The former didn’t bother me in the least, but the latter were going to be a problem.
He tilted my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Was?”
I nodded.
“Then I take it you won’t be needing this anymore.” He fingered the cheap collar around my neck. It was an actual dog collar that Josh had bought online, insisting I wear it while we were at the club. Well, he’d wanted me to wear it all the time, but I had refused. I’d also refused to allow him to put it on me.
“Nope. Won’t be needing it,” I agreed, but before I could reach for it, he did the honors.
The sound of the metal buckle hitting the metal trash can echoed in the small space. Oddly, it was a satisfying sound that made me feel lighter in the midst of this mess that had become my life.
Surprisingly, Master Snowden didn’t criticize me. I’d had plenty of that over the years. Mostly from foster parents and social workers, a few times from the people who ran the shelters I’d had to call home from time to time. When it came to BDSM, there were a lot of misconceptions and inaccurate assumptions. I’d never hidden my involvement in the scene, and no one seemed to understand my needs.
Not that I didn’t deserve some of their skepticism. My recent choices were certainly questionable. Example A: Josh Tudor. The biggest mistake I’d made since I’d decided not to go to college on another man’s dime.
Okay, maybe the whole bypassing higher education wasn’t really a mistake. Being a submissive was one thing. Being some man’s whore was something entirely different. And Walter had wanted me to be his whore, I knew. I may not have had anything to my name, but I had my limits. Sleeping with a man more than twice my age was certainly not something I was willing to do.
I also had my pride.
Although it was a little bruised at the moment.
“Can you sit down?” Master Snowden asked.
I mentally took stock of my pain, then nodded. “I think so.”
He surprised me when he dragged over a chair, then took a seat in it before gently settling me onto his lap. For a brief moment, I considered pulling away, but his warm, hard body felt safe, and right then I needed to feel safe.
Master Snowden was extremely careful as he wrapped his arms around me, keeping the blanket securely in place.
“For the next few minutes, I want you to focus on breathing,” he instructed, his dark, rich voice soft, soothing. There was no accent that I could detect, and his words were clear and concise.
“Breathing?”
He chuckled softly. “Yes. Breathe. In and out. Without talking.”
I wasn’t sure if he knew what I needed or if it was a safe bet considering we were in a BDSM club, but I was grateful for his dominance.
While I relaxed against him, Master Snowden’s thumb traced circles over the blanket on my shoulder, his other hand resting on his thigh. I could tell he was careful not to touch me in a way I might deem inappropriate. It said a lot about his character. I’d been in plenty of clubs where Doms believed they had free rein to touch as they pleased.
“Close your eyes,” he insisted.
How he knew they were open was beyond me, but I did as he instructed. I relaxed, listening to his even breaths, letting the warmth of his body and the security of his arms knock back some of the disappointment from earlier.
Disappointment in Josh.
Disappointment in myself.
Hell, disappointment in life in general.
I managed to sync my breaths with Master Snowden’s and focused on that, clearing my mind as best I could.
It lasted until I heard the door open.
“How is she?”
I instantly recognized his voice as the man who had confronted Josh after Master Snowden had. Thanks to deductive reasoning, I didn’t even have to look at his face to know my second white knight was none other than Justin Parker.
Although, Master Snowden’s whole you can call me Master but I’m really a sub thing was still puzzling me.
“She says she doesn’t need medical attention,” Master Snowden replied.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Of course he would.
Master Parker was known for his iron-clad control and his inherent need to be the alpha Dom in the room. I’d been working and playing at Dichotomy long enough to know the club’s Masters. Maybe not personally, but I knew their qualities.
I met the ocean-blue eyes of my blond-haired savior. He was eyeing me speculatively, studying my face with an expression wrought with concern and more than a little challenge.
“I am really confused right now,” I announced, my eyes still locked with his.
“Is that so?” A devilish smirk curled the edges of his luscious mouth. “Well, while I check to ensure you don’t need medical attention, why don’t you enlighten us.” His tone was nothing short of a command, daring me to defy him.
