Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(29)

Anne pulled off the Shadowlands’ dungeon monitor vest and stuffed it in her locker. Hands over her head, she stretched upward, removing the knots. Her duty was over. Now, she could head home, or coax Sam and Linda into going out for a drink, or maybe find someone here to play with.

Option three might be a good choice.

Find a good boy. Work him over until he was shaking, not able to tell the difference between pain and pleasure. Maybe reward him with a trip upstairs to let him touch her. Have some no-strings-attached sex.

She damn well needed something to erase the memories of Ben in her bed. All those steel-hard muscles. The weight of him on top of her—the feeling of being penetrated by his heavy shaft.

The way his eyes lit as if he held sunshine in his soul.

And then she’d been cruel. Shot down his hopes and wounded his spirit.

The small hurt then had been necessary to prevent a larger one. She sighed, losing the urge to play at all. She just didn’t have the heart to chance flattening another subbie’s desires.

And wasn’t that just pitiful?

One of these days, the sadist police would show up to take her membership card away.

Instead, she’d just get a drink here and forget about playing with anyone. As she walked out of the locker room, she growled low. Cullen had better have gotten over being pissy about her mixing pain meds and alcohol. If he gave her another sparkling water, she’d dump it on his head, even if she had to stand on a barstool to reach the right height.

“Mistress Anne,” Sally called from where she sat between her two Masters. She jumped up and ran over.

Anne had to smile—a common reaction at seeing the vibrant submissive. “You look very happy; marriage agrees with you.”

“I’d given up hope of finding one Dom and here I am with two. It still seems like a dream.” The brunette’s nose wrinkled. “Unless I’m in trouble. Then it’s a nightmare.”

Punishment at the hands of Galen and Vance? Having watched the two Doms co-top, Anne knew a sub wouldn’t have a chance. “Hopefully you’ll learn to stay out of trouble,” she said, spouting the Dominants’ party line.

“But it’s a submissive’s duty to keep her Doms on their toes and well exercised.” Sally grinned. “Anyway, the guys are going to be gone part of next week, and I’d really appreciate some company. Can you come over on Thursday? It’ll just be me and maybe Beth or Gabi. The house still gets scary when my men aren’t home.”

Thursday? That was her birthday. But Anne couldn’t say no. She understood loneliness. And Sally had been attacked in that house; being alone was probably still difficult. “Of course, I’ll come.”

“Awesome. Thank you!” Sally squeezed her hand and hurried away.

Anne continued toward the bar.

Adjusting her long latex gown, she eased onto a barstool next to Sam and Raoul, two of the other Shadowlands Masters. Glancing around, she saw they’d left their women in the subbie area, Raoul even going so far as to chain his slave, Kim, marking her as unavailable.

Wasn’t it odd that Anne had never chained up any of her slaves? Maybe because she’d never felt particularly territorial.

Then again, she hadn’t loved any of them—not in the way that Raoul loved Kim.

“Anne,” Sam said. The dim lighting around the bar gave the sadist’s face a sinister cast and glinted off his silvered hair.

“You look lovely tonight.” Raoul’s light accent showed why Spanish was considered one of the romance languages.

“Hi, lads.” She twisted to check out the available submissives in the sitting area.

There was a nice assortment of male and female, including two appealing men in their mid-twenties. They were conversing while watching the rest of the room. Anne had done a scene with the firefighter in the past. He’d been fun, but a lightweight when it came to pain. She no longer wanted a hard-core masochist, but surely a little endurance wasn’t too much to ask.

The other male she hadn’t yet met. Pleasingly lean shape. About her height. Buzz-cut blonde hair. He wore only a pair of dark-red biker shorts.

When he saw her looking at him, he flushed from his upper chest to his forehead. His gaze dropped.

Very nice.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Raoul said in approval.

“Really,” she said, adding a hint of ice.

Sam chuckled. Unlike Raoul, he tended to mind his own business. She’d always liked the old rancher.

“I heard rumors that you’d played with Ben, and I was worried.” Raoul’s dark brown eyes met hers. “I know firsthand how disastrous it can be when a Master takes on someone who isn’t a real slave.”

Her irritation died under his obvious worry. “You don’t need to—”

“Anne.” Cullen’s usually easygoing tone was chilled. “Ben is looking for you.”

She straightened. “Is that right?”

“Aye.” Cullen leaned an arm on the bar, getting in her face. “Everyone likes Ben, you know.”

“This is true.” And she had no plans of playing with him again. “Listen, Cullen—”

“My friend, the man is vanilla,” Raoul said.

He made it sound as if she’d gone after a virginal eighteen-year-old, not an ex-soldier in his mid-thirties. She kept her tone reasonable. “I think the operative word here is man.”