The Dom with the Dragon Tattoo (Masters of Submission #5)(3)



“Sure thing, Dana.” Todd took it from her, and then she was gone, swaying that sexy ass of hers as she slowly made her way toward the raised, revolving stage.

“Who’s the lady?” Tyler eventually inquired when he was finally able to drag his eyes from her tight butt.

Todd laughed. “She does seem to have that effect on guys.” He slid another shot of whiskey across the bar. “That’s Dana. She’s one of the erotic dancers.”

“Uh-huh. I see. Then she’s not a sub.”

The barman smiled knowingly. “You might not believe it, but she’s a sub all right. Just a very choosy one. Dana was a sub to one of the Masters here, but for one reason or another they split up a while ago. She hasn’t had another Master since. Like I say, Dana’s a real choosy girl, and with her looks she can afford to be.”

Tyler wistfully shook his head. “Too bad I’m flying back to Houston tomorrow.” He took a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to the bartender. “Thanks for a great evening, Todd. Have a drink on me, and when she’s finished gyrating on the stage, get one for the pretty lady, too. I like a sub with some spirit.”

“Fifty bucks, thank you, sir. You leaving us already?”

“Afraid so. Got an important business meeting tomorrow.” He stood and stretched out his hand. “Hope to see you again, buddy.”

Todd shook his hand. “You, too, sir, and thanks again.”

Tyler scooped his drink from the bar and made his way to the raised stage. The provocatively dressed woman was dancing suggestively on the revolving turntable, employing the slave cage as part of her sexy routine. He watched her for a while, fascinated by the way she contorted her body into unbelievable shapes. As she gyrated, the tiny leather jacket she wore spread open, revealing her beautiful naked breasts with their achingly tight pink nipples. Tyler took a slug of Jack Daniel’s, enjoying the scene unfolding before him.

He figured the sexy act had made her overheat, because she briefly stopped dancing and removed her golden mask. Tyler watched her dab away the perspiration with a towel. He was right, her face was as beautiful as her body. She then lowered the mask again and continued her routine.

Maybe she sensed his presence, because for a brief moment the most vivid blue eyes he’d ever seen stared back at him. He felt as though a connection had been made. Tyler smiled and raised his glass to her. He then took a final slug of the amber warmer and placed the empty glass on the nearest table before making his way from the club. As he pushed his way through the pulsing energy of a hundred happy people, he removed his mask. The f*cking thing was making him hot, too, or was it the beautiful, seductive woman dancing on the stage that really had the blood rushing through his veins?

He turned one final time and watched the sexy lady still in command of her audience. Yeah, Club Submission was a great place, and he was glad he’d come.





Chapter Two




Rebecca Miles pushed through the revolving door of the Corinthian Hotel and looked around. She’d walked past the impressive building many times, but this was the first occasion she’d ventured inside, and she wasn’t disappointed. Cool marble floors, tinkling fountains, and ornate granite pillars graced the reception area, bringing a calming tranquility to an otherwise bustling environment. At least fifty other people shared the cathedral-sized space with her, the remnants of their incessant chatter rising high into the air.

A good-looking young guy in his early twenties, wearing a red hotel uniform complete with gold buttons and a smattering of military-style braiding, stepped forward. “May I help you, ma’am?”


Rebecca stopped midstride and smoothed the hair from her face. “I’m having lunch in the Lincoln Room.”

The young man smiled. “The Lincoln Room, ma’am. Take the elevator to the twenty-second floor, and then follow the signs. You can’t miss it.” He gestured with an open palm. “The elevators are right across the way there.”

“Thank you, you’ve been most helpful.”

“You’re very welcome, ma’am, and the views are excellent from the Lincoln Room.”

Once inside the chrome and glass elevator, Rebecca checked out her reflection in the mirror. “Damn.” She leaned forward and adjusted her glasses and then quickly finger combed her hair back into place. Why the hell does my hair have to have a life of its own at a time like this? She wrinkled her nose “Hmm.” Work time was work time and playtime was playtime. She took her career very seriously and never mixed business with pleasure. In her experience, male colleagues took a woman far more seriously and treated her with more respect when they didn’t see her as an object of sexual desire. In her job at Omega Computing, she headed a small team of twelve men and three women. She demanded their respect, and got it, too.

When the elevator doors swished open, delivering her safely to the twenty-second floor, she stepped into the lobby and followed the signs for the Lincoln Room.

Rebecca put a hand to her mouth and stifled a yawn. She really shouldn’t have gone out last night. Her feet were killing her and her eyes were still watering from wearing contacts. It was unlike her to be so unprofessional, especially as she was well aware she had an important appointment the following morning. At least no one would recognize her. She made a point of keeping her public and private lives very separate.

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