Page 18 of Whispers In Wonderland

When I told my family I was accepted to a behavioral science Ph.D. program, I’m sure they imagined me spending days on end in some wood paneled library, or maybe in a musty museum archive if they were feeling adventurous. Certainly, the most exclusive BDSM club in the city wasn’t among the possibilities—and I’ve never corrected their assumptions.

I’ve been fortunate that the club’s owner, Zachary Ingram, and its high-class members value demystifying the lifestyle. I’m beyond thankful to have unlimited access to the public areas of the club for free since I’m not actually a member. Zach’s only stipulations were that I not include any identifying information and to let him read my dissertation before submitting it to the graduate school. The man is crazy protective of club member privacy. But he’s also interested in my work.

It’s the only explanation for the unprecedented access I have to Shattered Embrace.

During my time observing, I’ve gotten to know several of the club members and made new friends if not lovers. Despite all the society hype and the fluttering hearts around the club, Master Zachary is just Zach to me. Besides having more money than God, he’s a regular guy. Undoubtedly an impressive one, but his charming smile and excellent conversation skills make it easy to forget his wealth and status. He’s definitely easy on the eyes, but I’ve never once had the slightest romantic interest in Zachary. Submitting to him for this class didn’t intimidate me—both my heart and my hormones were safe. Until he went and got himself a girlfriend. Now, Ashton’s the only woman that occupies space at his feet, throwing a wrench into the plan for him to be my Dom for these classes. I can’t even be annoyed about it though, because they’re so disgustingly happy together, and Zach deserves happiness.

The unfortunate timing of him finding his soulmate leaves me in the highly uncomfortable position of having Derek Ingram as my Dom de jour on Tuesday evenings. He’s like his brother in many ways, but there’s one terrifying difference between the two. Derek catches my attention in ways he shouldn’t, no matter how hard I try to ignore the way his presence and piercing blue eyes send my hormones humming through me.

Only a few more sessions to go. I can make it through a few more sessions without embarrassing myself.

Even though Zachary’s now a reformed playboy, that’s not a club Derek will ever belong to—or even think about applying for membership in. Derek not only enjoys time with many different partners, he often scenes with more than one at the same time. How he keeps track of and cares for multiple submissives boggles my mind. But some questions are best left unanswered.

I don’t submit and I don’t share, which means Derek and I don’t live in the same universe outside of this room, no matter how tempting his sinfully kissable lips and hard body are. My mind understands that, even if my body hasn’t quite gotten the message that it wouldn’t like to get to know Derek a whole lot better.

The thrumming, sexy beat of soft music is a low undercurrent as I step into the group class room. Anticipation coils low in my belly, despite my attempts to remain professionally distant. I draw a slow breath and release it even more slowly before sinking to my knees on a cushion in the front of the room. Although I’m not late, I’m the last to arrive and Callie promptly starts talking about the agenda for this evening. Ashton seems worried about having a partner besides Zachary, but I feel tension in my gut release as I realize I’ll likely have limited interaction with Derek tonight. Once Callie’s opening remarks conclude, everyone rises and drifts away, chatting in pairs and small groups as the dominants begin to arrive. I’m intrigued by Jordan’s presence tonight, especially since she’s not with the submissive’s group. Before I can question her about it, Derek strides into the room with Graham and I barely stop myself from whirling around and finding anyone in the other direction to talk to. Instead, I turn to Lacey, a short, voluptuous woman who’s anxiously watching the door for her Dom to arrive and ask how she’s been. She answers me, eyes still on the door, but I don’t mind because I’m not really interested in having a conversation, just in appearing to be occupied until class starts. I’ll take every moment I can get to fortify my defenses and hide the effect that Derek’s magnetic pull has on my body.

~~~ Derek ~~~

The click of my Italian leather loafers echoes down the dim hallway as I make my way to meet my longtime friend, Graham. With evening closing in, light from the entrance at the end of the hall is waning. The shadows swallow me, cloaking my presence, and I make a mental note to ask Jax to change the timing and intensity of the corridor lighting. It’ll change the ambiance, but with Lucian making threats, it can’t be avoided. I step into the light spilling from his open office door and he glances up with a knowing smile, warming his typically stern expression.

The bastard’s almost giddy with anticipation at playing with the newbies.

“Ready to play some games?” he asks as he closes his laptop and then joins me. I step back as he passes into the hall, locking his door.

“Hell yes. It’s been too long since we’ve had new club subs. I’m glad this class is almost ready to be let off the leash of trainee status.” We fall into step, the walk from here to the group classroom on the third floor a familiar path for us both. As club manager, Graham teaches a lot of skills and techniques to our members, both old and new.

“Sure has,” he hums his agreement. “Nothing like the heady rush when their eyes go wide with wonder and needs they didn’t know they have.”

The classes are a great introduction, but real surrender isn’t something that can be taught with participation exercises.

“You’ve gotten to know most of this class, haven’t you?” I question, “Anyone so new that they’ve never experienced the transition from vulnerability into desire and surrender?”

“Just your charge.” He chuckles, “Justine’s not a new face, but watching us like science experiments and doing the experimenting are apples and oranges.” I cannot suppress a sigh, and Graham turns sharp eyes my way. “Problem? You usually relish the challenge of expanding a sub’s horizons.”

“Her attention is on Zachary far too often.” I grumble.

He snorts, “That’s fixed easily enough. She’s yours for the duration of the class. You’ll make sure she stays on task, and if that means taking her over your knee for a reminder, so be it.”

I hesitate only for a moment, tempted by the thought of having my way with her—of finally being able to explore the tension that’s been simmering between us. A smirk that’s probably far too telling curls my lips, “I know, I know,” I roll my eyes. “But it doesn’t make it any easier. She’s going to be difficult.”

Graham grins at me knowingly as we reach the door to the classroom. “Not so different from Jordan. Difficult and bratty are your favorite kind, yeah?” The asshole’s gaze sweeps over me, seeing far too much. “Right. Because you’re not harboring any urges to bend Justine to your will, are you?”

My eyebrow lifts slowly to no effect on our club manager, who reads people like a fucking psychic. “She wants to be here with Zach. You know that. She almost bowed out of the class entirely.”

“She trusts him since he’s been so helpful to her studies, but there’s no spark between them. Z is the safe choice. I’ve seen how she looks at you when she thinks no one is watching.” He says, lowering his voice as two service subs hurry passed discussing how many more cushions need to be brought up.

We reach the third floor, and I take a deep breath, sliding fully into my dominant persona. The classroom’s full of eager faces waiting to learn. A few are familiar, veterans of the club who’ve brought in new partners or returned for a refresher course. Most are fresh faces, their expressions a mixture of trepidation and excitement. Graham and I share a knowing look—the fun’s just getting started.