Book Three: Over The Line

“Her name’s Sydney Wallace,” Gregorio said.

Michael was aware of Gregorio’s voice, but his focus was elsewhere. Sydney. Unusual name. He let it roll around in his mind, imagined how it might sound when he said it aloud as he told her what to do.

“She used to dance nude in a cabaret in Vegas and has a boa constrictor as a pet. It killed her last Dom and dragged him out to the backyard. She’s on the run from the law. We heard she’s wanted in ten states and two Canadian provinces.” Gregorio snapped his fingers near Michael’s face, jarring him from his reverie. “You listening to me, Mike?”

“Huh?” He shook his head and looked at Gregorio.

“I figured you weren’t listening, otherwise you’d have decked me for calling you Mike.” Gregorio chuckled. “Seriously, if you want to play, there are a number of subs here tonight””they’re wearing the house’s purple wrist band. That means they’re available for a scene, they know the rules and they follow them. Any one of them would be much better for you than Sydney.”

Gregorio, as Damien Lowell’s right-hand man, knew things. Gregorio understood human nature and, since he tracked all the membership applications, he had insider knowledge of everyone at the Den. He served as a house monitor and sometimes participated in scenes. Because he was so well respected, Doms and subs alike listened to him. Those who didn’t often rued their decision.

For the first time, Michael wanted to ignore Gregorio’s unsolicited advice. “I didn’t see a collar around her neck.” He took in the people she was standing with. “And she doesn’t seem to be here with anyone.”

“She doesn’t have a Dom.”

“I’ll bite. What’s wrong with Ms Wallace?”

“Other than the snake and the problems with the law?”

“What?” he asked, taking a drink of the light beer from his cup and looking back at her. A waiter approached with a tray full of sparkling water, and she snagged a flute. Her back was to him, and he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her shapely derrière. “Is she a Domme?”

“She’s a sub,” Gregorio said, giving the answer Michael wanted. “But one with no real interest in a relationship with a man.”

He blinked. “She’s gay?” Please God, no, not now that he was imagining her legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her wet pussy.

“She likes men just fine. What I mean is, she’ll start playing, if a guy interests her. If he bores her, she bails.”

“She’ll leave in the middle of a scene?”

“It’s happened a handful of times.” Gregorio folded his arms across his chest. “She’s earned the name ‘The Brat’ around here.”

“She sounds like a challenge,” Michael said.