Slave To Her Wicked Desires Read Online Free PDF Page B

Command
    (Surrender Series Volume 3)
    By Leigh Foxlee
    “So your friend owns this place?” My eyes grow wide as I follow him and take everything in.
    “Yup. It’s a part of the Surrender Inc. franchise. Ever heard of it?” He opens a door made of dark walnut and stands aside so I can enter.
    “No.” I take a cautious step over the threshold. “What’s Surrender Inc.?”
    My arms brushes over his chest as I walk by and I feel the fine dusting of hair on his chiseled pecs tickle my skin. My face heats and my body feels electric, but I hope I don’t show the effect he has on me. He’s shirtless today, clad in only a pair of tight fitted leather pants. I try not to stare at his chest too much either.
    He stops me with a hand snaked around my shoulder. “It’s a sex club and resort franchise. My buddy only owns the one club, but he knows some of the major shareholders. The richest of rich come to play at the main resort, Sanctuary. Or so I’m told. I’ve never been there.”
    I simply nod and swallow hard as my gaze takes in the playroom and its contents.
    I don’t know a ton about BDSM, but I know enough from the erotic romance I’ve read, and some of Jeanie’s dirty magazines, to know a spanking bench when I see one. There’s also a rack that reminds me of medieval torture devices. A cross with shackles for wrists and ankles. And stocks. Glass cases line the walls and these are filled with whips, collars, handcuffs. He explains more about the room’s contents as he leads me around.
    “Pick your pleasure,” he says, stopping in front of me.
    The heat from his body makes the tiny hairs on mine stand on end. I try to breathe normally, act cool. This is just practice after all. Not the real thing.
    Still, I stall for time. “Why do you need to practice anyway? How can someone be a failure dominant?” I regret the last sentence the moment it leaves my lips.
    He glares at me, purses his lips, then his face becomes an aloof mask, but I can still sense the anger simmering under the surface. “Some of my clients feel I’ve been too soft on them. I need to learn not to hold back. To respond to my submissive’s wants and needs by observing their cues and better communication. Failure is not an option.”
    He sounds like Arnold Schwarnehager in a bad sci-fi movie, but I don’t tell him that. I have the good sense to bite my tongue this time. However, I can’t help but ask, “What happens if you do fail?”
    He looks annoyed, but he holds the mask of aloof calm, control. “Then I’m out a job, or I go back to tending bar at this place. And this job pays better than the bar tending. So you’re helping me as much as I’m helping you. See?”
    The arm around my shoulder slides to my waist, raising tiny goose pimples down my back as it does. I suck air between my teeth.
    “Who’s paying my salary then?” I’m curious, but I also still don’t quite trust him.
    He can tell, and little wrinkles form at the bridge of his nose as his frown deepens. “My buddy. He’s investing in me. Let’s put it that way. Let’s get started.”
    I cast him a dubious look, but his stony face says more questions are not welcome. His elusive buddy makes me suspicious, but I decide if payment is late or anything goes wrong, I’m out of here and out of this job faster than you can say chocolate and peanut butter. I have the weekend off from both my other jobs--wonder of wonders--but I haven’t given my notice yet, just in case things don’t work out. Like I said, never trust a bad boy.
    He crosses his nicely defined arms over his chest. “Have you decided?” Pins me with an intimidating stare.
    My decision is based on my last assignment for my historical law class. I point to the stocks, hoping they’ll be the least harmful and compromising instrument of torture.
    He nods and, taking my hand, leads me to it.
    My heart does a double-time beat in my ears. “What am I suppose to do as your practice sub?”
    He opens up the