There was six feet of lithe brunette watching me, her long limbs drawing my attention as I took her in from head to toe. Not an inch of denim was covering her. Then again, the brown and gold corset she wore didn’t cover much of her, either. It cinched in her trim waist and highlighted her breasts, cleavage cascading deliciously over the top edge, which hugged her breasts lovingly. The brown spandex boy shorts covered her private parts but did nothing to hide those long, long legs.
For fuck’s sake. Say something, dumb ass.
“Master Edge?”
I forced a smile as I composed myself, allowing my Dom face to fall into place. Ogling this woman wasn’t an option and I needed to remember that.
“Jamie, you look … lovely.”
She smiled and her face was so radiant it damn near blinded me. On a normal day, I wasn’t one to wax poetic about a woman’s smile, but I couldn’t help it.
“Thank you.” Her chest bloomed with color and the sweet rosy red inched upward until it highlighted her cheeks. It was in that moment that I noticed how fucking young she was. She was ten years younger than Zeke, which made her twenty-three or twenty-four.
Twenty-fucking-anything was insane for me to consider. I was thirty-six, which made this girl twelve years younger than me at the very least.
It’s not like you’re old enough to be her father.
Well, technically, I probably was. Not that I’d been having sex at the age of thirteen, but it would’ve been shortly thereafter.
“Thank you so much for allowing me to come here tonight,” she said sweetly.
“It’s my pleasure to have you as my guest.”
Her brown eyes darted around and the curiosity I saw there made my dick stir with anticipation. I fought it back, reminding myself she wasn’t just any submissive who was looking to explore this world for the first time.
She was Zeke Lautner’s sister.
She was an innocent.
She was off-limits.
How the hell had I allowed Zeke to talk me into this?
Jamie
GREGORY EDGE.
That was the name of the ridiculously sexy man standing before me. Master Edge to those who interacted with him inside these walls, simply Edge to his closest friends. Tall, dark, gorgeous. Every straight woman’s fantasy, I’d imagine. Mine, for sure.
This solid slab of pure alpha male encased in an absurdly delicious package was … well, the first word that came to mind was dangerous. As though he should be stamped with a warning, something along the lines of: Beware. Could cause sinful thoughts.
I’d venture to guess he was in his late thirties, determined by the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, a hint of silver glittering in his otherwise black hair. Those aquamarine-blue eyes glowed, a mesmerizing shimmer brightened all the more by his black hair and bronzed skin. The stubble lining that rock-hard jaw had my fingers itching to touch. It was rare for me to consider any man beautiful, much less one so masculine, but that was Gregory Edge.
He was taller than me by a good four or five inches. Since I clocked in at six foot even, the height was a nice bonus. His lean build, currently outfitted in black leather pants, was rock solid, his abs defined by those sexy ridges and the distinct V that dipped down into the leather.
And to think, this beautiful specimen was going to give me an introduction into the world of kink.
“Have you ever been to a kink club before, Miss Lautner?” Edge asked as he stepped closer. His voice rich and deep, his words heard clearly over the music filling the space.
“I have not,” I admitted, trying to maintain a purely clinical outlook on this endeavor. “I’m a virgin.”
Those gas-flame-blue eyes—full of a mixture of hot and cold—shot to mine, and I realized instantly what I’d said.
Oops.
My blush heated my skin at least ten degrees, but I fought the urge to cover my face. “I mean … I’m a … a kink club virgin.”
“Is that so?”
I nodded. I was also a virgin virgin, but I figured he didn’t really need to know that. Not like I walked around waving a V flag, signaling that I had yet to be intimate with a man. Since I wasn’t interested in playing pass the baton with the most carnal characteristic of my entire being, I tended to keep it to myself.
“When’s the last time I saw you?” he asked.
“Good question,” I mused. “That birthday party?”
His smile was warm. “Jane’s. Right. I remember that night.”
He wasn’t the only one. I’d found myself captivated by the stalwart Dominant that night. Edge had come alone, and I had caught him eyeing me a few times. Nothing overt. Not a come-hither look or anything. He was not that sort of man. Not that I could tell, anyway. However, there were a few casual glances meant to be discreet. The kind that made a woman’s insides quiver with anticipation.
