of his glass and set it on a napkin. “You know what they say about writing, ‘write what you know.’”
“Yes, they do say that.” She gulped down several mouthfuls before even trying to say another word. “I don’t think I’m ready for any firsthand experiences. Today. But, thanks. I’d rather ask you a few questions, if that’s okay.”
“Sure, shoot away.” He finally took a drink from his glass. She used those few seconds, as he tipped his head back and swallowed, to think up a few safe questions to ask. This man, this disturbingly gorgeous man, really set her nerves on edge. Whether it was the way he looked or the way he looked at her, she couldn’t say. But there was something about him that made her feel funny inside.
“First, can you tell me why your members like to play these domination and submission games?”
He set his empty glass on the bar, waving to the bartender for a refill. He ordered one for her, too. “Well, I’m no psychiatrist, so I can’t say why every person here gets into power play, but I can speak for myself.”
She practically held her breath, waiting for his response.
“For me, it’s a drive—a need—that was inborn. When I was a kid, I told myself stories as I lay in bed. Stories in which I was the mighty warrior, slaying the enemy and conquering the princess. I’d haul her away from her castle, taking her to my domain, where I was master and lord. And then I’d seduce her until she was trembling, on her back, willingly submitting to me, relinquishing everything she had, everything she was.”
Wynne could picture the scene he described in her mind’s eye. And much to her surprise, her heart was pounding, her body trembling, as she imagined herself in the role of the princess, stolen away to this dark and powerful lord’s castle.
God, that was sexy.
No, beyond sexy. It was thrilling. Intoxicating.
“Later, I learned that there are others like me,” he continued, “who felt the need to dominate. My brothers, all of them, are like me—Doms.”
All. That meant Dierk, too.
Rolf continued, “Together, we gradually discovered people who needed men like us, submissives, and Twilight was born. This was a place where we could come together, without fear, without facing prejudice or judgment. It’s a place where we’re safe. We understand each other, we feed each other’s needs, souls.”
“It sounds very…” Powerful? Nurturing.
“Hey, there you are,” Kristy said behind her.
Intrigued but also ready to call it a night, Wynne glanced over her shoulder. “Yep, here I am.”
“Ready to go?”
“Uh, sure.” Wynne gave Rolf one last smile. “Thank you again. It’s been very…enlightening.”
“You’re welcome.”
As she stood on legs that felt no sturdier than a new sapling being pummeled by gale-force winds, he caught her wrist, forcing her to turn around. “Come back and see me. Tomorrow night. We’ll talk some more.”
“Um…Maybe I could do that.”
He nodded. “Yes, you could.” Slowly, his smile widening, he unfurled one finger at a time, until her wrist was free. She shuffled after her friend, her gaze focused on the exit, knowing that if she didn’t squeeze a full inhalation into her imploded lungs in the next few seconds, she’d pass out.
That had been the wildest rush she’d ever felt in her life. It left her feeling full of energy. Like she was buzzed.
Maybe that was the secret to this thing? Maybe the participants were looking for adrenaline? A natural high? She could admit a part of her was already demanding another dose.
This was dangerous. Passion and desire, blended with fear and anticipation. If she were smart, she’d never step foot in that place again.
3
“You owe me one thousand dollars, little brother.” Dierk pointed at his computer monitor, now displaying a hazy black-and-white image of the dungeon’s main exit. He’d watched the hot little brunette, with her sweet face and soft body, pass through that door no more than a handful of minutes ago.
Naturally, he wouldn’t admit to Rolf that he hadn’t caught her leaving by chance. The truth was, he’d watched her, undetected, for the past hour. He hadn’t glanced away once.
It had been sixty torturous minutes, witnessing her every move. He’d seen the way her expression had slowly relaxed as his brother had brilliantly talked her through her fears, the tension leave her shoulders, her neck, her face.
Ironically, it was because of Rolf that she’d stayed longer than a half hour. Rolf could have easily scared her off. Either Rolf didn’t care about the money, or he was as intrigued by the little brunette as Dierk was.
Not looking particularly put out, Rolf pulled his wallet from his pocket and peeled off ten Ben Franklins, placing them in Dierk’s outstretched hand. “That was worth every penny. Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve played with a fresh one.”
“She’s something, eh?” Dierk asked, trying his damndest to keep his tone neutral as he pocketed the money. She was fresh, all right. Dewy skin and soft curves. She smelled like peaches. He bet she’d taste sweet, too. He’d spent the past hour imagining what she might taste like.
“Yeah, something,” Rolf said, almost sounding star struck. He flopped into the chair opposite Dierk’s and kicked his booted feet up onto the desk’s polished top.
Dierk knocked them off. “Too bad she won’t be back.” For some reason it was really bugging him that he hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her more, to hear her lush voice as she explained why she’d come to his dungeon.
“Who says she won’t? I invited her back tomorrow.”
A ripple of heat sizzled through Dierk’s body. He hurried to the minibar next to a file cabinet and poured himself a brandy. He downed it in one swallow. “She’s not going to show up. Did you see the way she looked at everything? At you, me, our members. Like we’ve got two heads and are about to eat her alive. We’ve both seen that look before.”
Setting his empty glass down, he poured one for his brother, but Rolf declined. Since it would be a damn crime to let good brandy like that go to waste, Dierk closed his eyes and tipped back the glass. The brandy slipped down his throat, warming his belly. More erotic heat charged through his system, sparked by the combination of some damn fine brandy and an even better image of Wynne flashing in his mind.
“Well, at least on that last count, she’s probably right. Given the chance, I’d eat her alive,” Rolf said.
The two shared a laugh.
“How about another bet? Double or nothing?” Rolf offered.
“I’m listening.” Dierk filled and emptied his glass a couple more times before heading back to his desk. Tired of sitting, he leaned a hip against a bookshelf and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’ll bet our shy little writer shows up tomorrow. If I’m wrong, I pay you two thousand.”
Dierk thought about it for less than a handful of seconds before handing Rolf back his money. “You’re going to lose, but what the hell?”
“We’ll see about that.” Rolf offered his hand.
“You’re on.” He gave his brother’s hand a quick shake then forced himself back into the chair. Frowning, he swiveled around to glance at the computer monitor. If it weren’t for Rolf and the angel-faced Wynne, this job would be absolute torture. Boring beyond belief.
Whatever the problems were that Shadow had vaguely mentioned, they had nothing to do with the way the place had been run. Everything was in order, files up to date, bank accounts