Chapter One
Cole Daniels shovedthrough the crowd of men surrounding the scene, anger vibrating in his muscles.
“Don’t make a scene.” A strong hand descended on Cole’s shoulder.
He knew that voice. “Too late, Rick.” Cole shrugged off his friend’s hand.
Rick, the owner of Whips, the BDSM club outside of Olympia, Washington, moved to block Cole’s path. “Damn it, Cole. She’s of age and she agreed to the club’s rules.”
“She doesn’t belong here.” Cole was holding on to his temper by a thread. On that stage, in that scene, was Janie. Beautiful, sweet, irritating, tempting Janie. She hadn’t been home two months, and she was already driving him up the wall. His dick hadn’t been soft since she’d breezed out of the airport with her luggage in hand and turned his life upside down.
“She’s here of her own free will.”
“She’s mine.” Cole brushed past his friend, storming his way to the front of the crowd, and took in the scene in front of him. Janie was restrained over a spanking horse, her red hair spilling from the haphazard knot on her head. Her ass bare for all to see. A red haze dropped in front of his eyes. All he could see was his beloved baby sister, Sally, lying on the bed with red stripes on her back. Someone jostled him, bringing him out of the memory. He wouldn’t allow Janie to end up like his sister.
“Are you ready to be spanked, little girl?” the Dom asked.
Janie’s mouth opened but no words escaped. Her eyes were wide and her breathing too rapid. A good Dom would notice the signs of panic. Oh, fuck no. He wasn’t going to let her play with another Dom.
“No, she’s not.” Cole’s gaze clashed with Janie’s.
“Sir.” One of the monitors stepped in front of him.
“It’s okay,” Rick said from behind him, and the dungeon monitor stepped aside.
“What the hell is going on?” the Dom on the stage asked. He held an impression paddle.
No fucking way. That man was not going to leave impressions on Janie’s unmarred skin. No way in hell. Cole climbed onto the stage with Rick right behind him.
“Apparently, the sub didn’t clear her actions with her Dom,” Rick said.
Cole strode over to Janie and began undoing the overly tight restraints.
“Cole, what are you doing here?” Her voice was soft.
“Be quiet and let me handle this.” Damn the Dom wannabe. Her wrists were red from the excessively tight restraints. With those undone, he lifted Janie to her feet. Her skirt fell and covered her bare ass.
“I don’t care what the slut did or didn’t do,” the man said.
Janie let out a small cry of dismay. Cole glared at the man, anger surging through his veins. “What did you just call her?” No woman deserved to be called a slut, let alone Janie.
“Listen, buddy,” the Dom wannabe started.
“No, you listen.” The dungeon monitor mounted the stage, and Cole guided Janie to him, where she would be protected, before striding up to the asshole. “No woman is a slut. And you’re not a Dominant. If you were, you’d understand how to play.”
The man opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. Rick stepped in front of him and slapped his hand on the man’s chest. “You’ve violated two of the club rules. Your membership is revoked.” Rick waved his hand and two more DMs climbed on the stage. “Escort him to get dressed, then out to his vehicle. He is no longer welcome here.”
The DMs smiled before grasping the man by the elbows and carrying him, protesting, off the stage.
Cole turned back to Janie, who was staring at him, wide-eyed, although her lips were pressed together. “Thanks, Rick,” Cole said over his shoulder. “Sorry to cause you problems.”
“Hell, you were always trouble.” There was laughter in his voice. “Just get her home.”
Cole took Janie by the elbow. She stiffened but didn’t resist as he led her out of the club and to his car.
“Cole—” she began.
“Silence,” he snapped. He opened her door and pushed her inside before he rounded the hood and climbed into the driver’s seat.
