Inside the Lines: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel Read Online Free PDF

since I was a teenager. But I didn’t find myself there to avoid anything, either. I was drawn to it because it spoke to who I knew I was. Does that make sense?”
    With a nod, he takes a sip of his coffee. “Perfectly. I always questioned whether she really was a Dom, or if she chose that road to avoid being hurt.”
    “That very well may be. She wouldn’t be the first person I’ve heard of who did so.” Sadness haunts his eyes. “You loved her.”
    After a pause, he nods slowly. “I did. Very much.”
    I sigh. “I’m so sorry. This must have been hard for you—to seek me out.”
    “It was… the first time I sought out someone to meet my needs in several years, yes.”
    “I’m glad you did.”
    “May I ask you one more question?”
    The coffee still steams in the cup, so I nod. “Of course.”
    “I don’t mean to be impertinent, and you may tell me it is none of my business. Have you found a way to have this,” he motions to the bedroom, “and a healthy relationship at the same time? I’ve met quite a few people who engage in BDSM, but they’ve either not lasted as a couple, or they’ve found partners that allow them to play with others, rather than bring it home.”
    “That’s an excellent question. I have met people who are able to ‘balance’ it, and quite successfully. So I wouldn’t give up hope. But I’ve yet to find that harmony for myself.”
    “Ah. Yes. Well, that does give me some measure of hope. Thank you, Mistress.”
    We finish our coffee discussing banal bits of news and culture. When I take my leave, he walks me to the door, then holds his hands out to me. I place my fingers against his large, warm palms.
    “Thank you, Mistress Hathaway. I will endeavor to be less naughty for you.”
    “Very good, Charles. Until the next time.”
    Many of my clients have little routines they like after a session, so Charles is not unusual in that. But there’s an elegance to him that makes him even more attractive as a client. When I get to the lobby, I make a note of his preferences in my roster, then head home.

Chapter 6
    Uncomfortable Truths
    Not every city has a club devoted to kink, but thankfully, New York City does. Paddled has been around for at least twenty years, if not longer. Inside, it’s anything goes, except outright sex. You can pet, fondle, kiss, whip, spank, and/or tie up. As long as all parties are consenting and everyone enjoys their play, no questions are asked.
    I step into the dark space, and some of my defenses fall away. When you spend your life living on the fringe of society’s preferences, it gets lonely. Here, no one asks why my preferred clothing is black patent and ties in the back. Or why I like my eyeliner dark and my lipstick intense. I can simply be.
    I nod to a couple of friends as I find my way to the juice bar—some sex clubs shy away from even considering a liquor license. When you are involved in activities that involve risk and pain, you need all your wits. I order a cranberry juice and smile at the barista.
    “How’s it going, Tice?”
    She grins back me, her beautiful face a mask of delight. “Fuckin’ amazing, jelly bean. How’s you?” She pumps the cranberry juice from a soda gun, looking for all the world like a real bartender.
    “Not bad. Remember that business idea I talked to you about?”
    “You got something for me?” Her dark eyes rake over me with intensity. Tice—also referred to as “Entice”—manages Paddled, and she’s pretty confident that the owners and investors of the sex club will be interested in Kinked.
    My stomach leaps into my throat. “I have a business consultant looking over it now. I can email it to you tomorrow.”
    “That’s my girl!” She reaches over to high-five me. “Let’s get this shit on the road, baby!”
    I smile at her confidence. “Here’s hoping your bosses like it.”
    She waves a hand with ridiculously long, bright blue fingernails. “I will sell that shit, baby. Don’t you worry