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Bonds of Trust: Book One of Wicked Play
by Lynda Aicher
Ratings:
313 pages4 hours
Summary
After ending her passionless marriage, Cali Reynolds is eager to live out her forbidden fantasies. Her first step is attending new members' night at The Den, the most exclusive sex club in town. Perhaps here she can find a man who understands her desire to be dominated...
At first, Jake McCallister thinks Cali has come to his club for the wrong reasons. But when he discovers she is seeking fulfillment after years of denial, he's intriguedand takes it upon himself to initiate her into the pleasures she's been missing.
Her first encounter with Jake is everything Cali has always craved, and more; she's not prepared for the feelings he inspires in her. And Jake is just as surprised by his overwhelming attraction to Cali. As their play intensifies, so does their bond. Now, Jake doesn't want anyone but Calibut is he ready to officially claim her? And will she submit to being his forever?
78,000 words
"Lynda Aicher's Bonds of Trust just might be a must-buy for Fall 2012." RT Book Reviews
Publisher: Carina PressReleased: Nov 26, 2012ISBN: 9781426894695Format: book
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Bonds of Trust - Lynda Aicher
Copyright
Prologue
Do you like bondage?
I don’t know.
Spankings? Whips? Floggings?
I don’t know.
Exhibitionism, being a slave, serving a Master?
Again, I don’t know.
Golden showers, enemas or any other classification of water sports?
What?
Cali Reynolds gasped then shuddered. Water sports? God, no.
The long-haired co-owner of The Den paused in his barrage of questions to eye her intently. He braced an elbow on the desk and leaned in, assessing her, the blue polo shirt tugging across his shoulders, his muscled biceps flexing. Seth Mathews was the last obstacle she had to pass before she could be granted membership to the exclusive club. He gave a half smile at the expression of pure disgust that had to be on her face.
There are members here who do enjoy those activities, Ms. Reynolds,
the man said. These are standard interview questions. I hope your opinions wouldn’t be so blatantly displayed in the presence of those who do like those things.
She winced. Her hands clenched in her lap and she hoped the large desk between them hid the action. I didn’t mean any disrespect. It’s just not for me.
He nodded then glanced at the paper on his desk, making a mark on the page. He appeared younger than she’d expected, maybe late thirties, but his age didn’t hinder the authority he exuded. "What are you looking for, then?" He studied her, missing nothing.
She swallowed, her stomach knotting into a state of sickly pain. I don’t know, exactly,
she answered, her face heating with embarrassment. She tore her gaze from his and stared at her lap. She picked uncharacteristically at the small hangnail on her thumb, wondering if the straight-cut black slacks and purple sweater set had been too conservative for this interview.
He sighed, the pen clattering against the desk as he tossed it down and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. Then why are you here? The Den is the most exclusive BDSM club in the Twin Cities. If you don’t know what you want or like, then why come here?
She snapped her chin up, desperation snaking into her voice. "Because you are the most exclusive club. I have to get in here."
Why?
Cali ducked her head, tucking her hair behind her ear, using the habitual move to calm herself. Why, indeed. I’ll never try this anywhere else.
She waited for him to respond, but he didn’t. So she continued, filling in the silence with the truth. "It’s taken me a very long time to understand what I desire. Just as long to accept that what I crave sexually is way outside the box of normal. And even longer to do something about it. This isn’t a game for me, if that’s what you’re thinking."
He picked up the pen, letting the object flip absently between his fingers. Why now?
If not now, then it’s never.
She took a deep breath and hoped he believed her, because it was true. This was her one and only chance of safely getting what she secretly fantasized about. She couldn’t risk the exposure by going anywhere else.
He sat forward. Why do you think you’re a submissive if you’ve never participated in any submissive activities?
How did you know you were a dominant?
she fired back. He obviously was and she was tired of his game. Of the questions and disbelief. She wasn’t going to be intimidated into walking out because he doubted her intentions. How did you discover what you liked and wanted without experiencing them? I bet you didn’t know for sure. No one can. So if inexperience is the only thing keeping me from getting into this club, then I ask you, how else am I supposed to learn?
He stared at her and this time, she didn’t flinch away. She’d thrown down the challenge and she wasn’t backing down. Maybe he’d toss her out or maybe, just maybe, he’d throw her over the desk and spank her for her defiance. Her gut dropped at that thought as a wave of heat flashed through her.
Either way, she’d have an answer.
After a minute of tense silence, a slow smile curled over his sensual lips. He stood, his large frame towering over her as he extended his hand. Welcome to The Den, Ms. Reynolds.
Chapter One
Inhale, exhale. Two simple, reflexive actions that seemed almost impossible for Cali to execute. Breathe. She had to forcibly remind herself oxygen was necessary. But then, she could hardly hear her own thoughts over the pounding of her heart.
It’d been four days since her final interview. Four days to digest and stew on the fact that she’d been granted membership to the exclusive sex club. She’d be mortified if anyone ever found out she was here. Just the thought of it had her swallowing back her dinner.
They won’t, she reminded herself. She could fulfill this side of her life without anyone knowing.
She forced herself to look around the small room in an attempt to focus on something besides her increasing anxiety. The space was tastefully decorated in deep burgundies and greens. The black leather love seat where she sat was positioned across from two matching chairs. A waiting room that with its warm tones and expensive furniture was more suited for a corporate office than a sex club.
What was she waiting for?
Had the club decided to revoke her membership before she’d even started? Then why did she spend the last half hour listening to all of the rules being repeated to the small group of new members like herself? It didn’t make sense. No one else had been excluded, pulled aside and singled out.
She’d gone through the interviews, both on paper and in person. Paid the exorbitant membership fee. Completed the new member checklist filled with questions that made her cheeks flame and her heart race at the images they conjured. Submission, spanking, bondage, anal play, voyeurism, exhibitionism—oh God, she had to think of something else.
She forced another slow exhale, the breathing technique doing little to instill the calm she sought. The utter silence of the room was an added torture. No piped in music or even the insistent ticking of a clock to distract her mind. She’d been left alone with her thoughts, nerves and a barely restrained instinct to flee.
Abruptly she stood, hesitated then immediately sat back down. She cursed silently, berating herself for the show of nerves. Shifting, she moved to tuck the strands of her sleek bob behind her ear, but her hand stilled when she touched the unfamiliar tumble of curls instead. Like the mini-skirt and low-cut blouse she wore, the loose curls flowing untamed around her head were an extension of this other side of herself. The side that seemed so very, very dirty. So wrong.
But desperately ached to be free.
She dropped her hand and clasped it tightly with the other, refusing to fidget. Refusing to run or panic or any of the other things they were probably hoping she’d do. If this was a test, she wasn’t failing.
Determination reasserted, she breathed a little easier. She would get through this. It might have taken her forty-four years, two grown kids and a divorce to get here, but she wasn’t turning back now.
Tonight, she would once again have sex with a man.
* * *
Jake McCallister leaned back in his chair and kicked his boots up to rest on the edge of the desk. The silent action felt off, missing the persistent creak he was accustomed to hearing. Shifting against the shiny leather for a comfortable spot, he wished for his old eyesore of a chair that had fit his body perfectly.
Too bad the garbage truck came that morning.
Sighing, he closed his eyes for a quick break before the night began. Before the crowds arrived and forced their expectations on him. Two minutes. That’s all he wanted. Two minutes of silence to rest his mind.
The door to his office swung open, the booming rock music from the main floor pulsing into the room. Hey, Jake,
Seth called out as he strode into the office. Do you have the file with tonight’s newbie info?
So much for two minutes. Jake opened his eyes and sat up, his boots thumping on the wood floor. He shuffled some papers around on his desk until he found the folder his business partner was searching for. It was First Friday, the one night a month new members were officially introduced to the club. Here,
he said, holding the folder out to Seth. Do you have the assignments done?
All newbies were paired with an employee their first night to show them around and answer any questions. It was both a courtesy and a precaution, with no obligation from either party. Still, they took care in assigning the member escort, as those matches often ended the night together—in one fashion or another.
For the most part,
Seth answered as he glanced at the list. There’s one I’m having a hard time with. I was hoping you would do another interview and verify my choice before we send her out.
Internally, Jake groaned. When?
In fifteen minutes.
Let me guess,
Jake said as he leaned back in his chair and thought about the new client list he’d just handed to Seth. It’s the forty-four-year-old divorcee looking for a little adventure but having no idea what she’s getting into. Desperate to hang on to her youth after her husband dumped her for a younger woman, she thinks our club will validate her desirability and boost her self-esteem.
Seth shut the door cutting off the music and took a seat. Not a good sign. You know I would have denied her membership if there was any indication she wasn’t serious about the lifestyle.
He shot Jake a reproachful glare before continuing. On the surface, it seems a lot like what you just described, but I can’t pin this one down. There’s an element of almost virginal curiosity about her that doesn’t fit with her age.
So do the interview yourself.
Can’t. I have an appointment at ten and I’ve already done the prelims. I want a second opinion.
What about Dek?
Deklan Winters was their third business partner. The three men had started The Den five years ago on an idea, a desire and barely enough cash to open the doors.
Seth leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. You’re the ‘people person,’ Jake. You can figure her out faster than either Dek or I can.
He furrowed his brow and tilted his head in consideration. Why are you dodging this?
Why did you wait until now to let me know?
Seth sat up. We always get a second opinion when in doubt.
Jake’s gaze darted to the wall of video screens. Every room in the club had a security camera. No exceptions. The club had a reputation to uphold. The three men had worked hard to establish The Den in the BDSM scene and it was currently on the top of the Twin Cities list. But they all knew the list was as fluid and quick to change as a river bed during the spring thaw.
Discretion, safety and exclusivity kept them on top.
Fine,
Jake responded as he scanned each screen in a practiced rhythm, absorbing every action, from the clients playing in the private rooms to the Scenes taking place in the Dungeon. Give me her information and I’ll take care of it.
He glanced back to Seth. Who have you matched her with so far?
Seth extracted a sheet from the file and handed it over before he leaned back, his shoulders relaxing at Jake’s agreement. Seth ran a hand through his hair, the straight, brown locks combing through his fingers before they fell back to brush over his shoulders. Jake noted the telling actions. For some reason, this client had Seth flustered.
Marcus,
Seth replied in answer to Jake’s question, his knee bouncing in a rapid beat of contained energy. But it’s not feeling right. Nothing against Marcus, he’s one of our best Dom’s, but my gut tells me I’m missing something.
Like what?
Seth’s lips compressed in a brief line of frustration. Shit,
he exhaled. I don’t know. That’s why I want you to meet her.
He stood abruptly and paced across the room to the mini-fridge, yanked the door open and stared inside before slamming it closed and turning back to Jake empty-handed. She’s not typical. The interviews I’ve had with her just don’t fit with the divorced cougar looking to feel better about herself.
Intrigued now, Jake examined the details outlined in the client dossier. The puzzle of one Ms. Cali Reynolds was becoming more attractive than he wanted it to be.
Over the last few months, he’d felt the restlessness returning. That inescapable, persistent itch to move on. His five-year commitment was up at the end of December, and he knew he’d be leaving. Seth and Dek, his de facto brothers since they’d bonded dodging fists and abuse in a foster home together, had made him promise he’d stick with the club for five years. Knowing him and his wanderlust a little too well, it was the only way they’d agree to go into business with him.
He didn’t need to be pulled into client issues when he was quietly trying to disentangle himself from the club. Hence, his reluctance to do the interview. But he couldn’t dodge the task without making Seth suspicious.
Not when both Dek and Seth were already looking for departure signs.
Jake picked up the head shot then studied at the full-body shot. She’s very attractive.
He glanced up at Seth, who was watching him a bit too intently. Are you sure her age is correct?
Seth frowned, crossing his arm over his chest. Like Dek would mess that up. Everything in her file has been validated. Like always.
Membership was strictly monitored and all applicants had to pass a rigorous interview and background check before membership was granted.
Jake flashed an apologetic smile. Right. I’d place her at least ten years younger by her photos.
The blonde in the pictures had the face and figure of a woman in her early thirties. Hell, she looked better than a lot of women did in their twenties.
And you look like you’re crowding forty?
Seth scoffed. Come on, Jake. You, of all people, should know how deceiving appearances can be.
Touché.
People constantly assumed Jake was younger than he was. He pulled his attention from the soulful green eyes in the picture and tossed the papers back on the desk. Is Marcus doing the meet and greet then?
Seth nodded. I told him to take Ms. Reynolds to Lounge One when he was done with the basics.
He turned to leave but paused before he opened the door. His lips quirked in a mischievous smile. Let me know how it goes with the cougar.
Jake laughed, a reflexive bark that burst from his gut. Right. She looks and sounds more like a kitten. I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t run from the club in blind fear once she sees the action up close and personal.
Don’t be so sure.
Seth opened the door, letting the noise enter in a smooth rhythm of drums. I told you, there’s something about this one.
He left before Jake could respond. A quick exit was the only way Seth could leave and still get in the last word.
Damn.
Jake picked up the headshot once again. A submissive? She had the doe eyes, but they were sharp and filled with intelligence. Not that subs were stupid, but most had that eager, need-to-please expression when they were at The Den. Her hair was styled in an efficient bob that grazed her shoulders. Not a strand out of place. Pale pink lipstick complimented her creamy skin and highlighted the cupids-bow arch of her upper lip that was curled in an almost shy smile, contradicting the edge in her eyes.
Intriguing.
His turned to the security screens, his gaze hunting down the mystery woman. A lone blonde sat in Lounge One, her back to the camera, showing her stiff spine and a tumble of curls that moved softly as she swiveled her head to look around the room. Her face was hidden from view and he leaned to the side in an unconscious move to get a glimpse of her features.
He jerked away when he realized what he was doing. What the fuck?
Jake tossed the photo on the desk and stood. He flexed his fingers, working out the residual ache left over from his earlier appointment. A regular who enjoyed being spanked after work before she headed home to her boyfriend. Her end-of-the-work-week tension release.
He chuckled under his breath. Too bad she couldn’t have an honest conversation with her boyfriend about what she desired. But then, the stigma around BDSM prevented a lot of people from openly admitting what they wanted, needed in their lives. It wasn’t just about sex, either.
Not that most people understood that.
It wasn’t his problem. Half the draw of The Den was the forbidden aspects of what it offered. Aspects he enjoyed both exploiting and encouraging.
He ran a hand over what he thought of as his Dom outfit. The expected black leather pants and black shirt that most Doms wore at the club. It was part of the image, another expectation he fulfilled, even though a truly dominant nature did not require specific clothing.
The facade was just one more thing he was tiring of.
A tight smile curved over his lips as he left the room, the persona of the Dom settling comfortably on his shoulders.
It was time to perform.
Chapter Two
The almost imperceptible click of the door opening echoed in the still room. Cali whipped her head around, her focus anchored to the entrance. Her breath hung in her lungs, her spine stiffened with the tight clenching of her stomach muscles as the moment lapsed into a tense second of expectation.
This was it.
A tall, dark-haired man stepped into the room, closed the door and moved with a purposeful stride to stand before her. He had a lean build that showed solid muscle under the tight shirt and form-fitting leather pants. His head-to-toe black clothing only served to emphasize his commanding presence and aura of authority. Without question, he was a Dom.
His lips thinned. Ms. Reynolds?
His deep voice tumbled over her, sending a quickly concealed chill down her spine.
Yes,
she answered hesitantly, not knowing if she should stand and meet his gaze or kneel and stare at the ground. What was the protocol? Going with what she knew, Cali stood and extended her hand. I’m Cali Reynolds.
The man looked her over in an almost critical fashion before staring pointedly at her extended hand. With a slight curve to his lips that didn’t quite make it into a smile, he clasped her hand in his much larger one. Ms. Reynolds, I’m Master Jake. Welcome to The Den.
His grip tightened, his thumb caressing the back of her hand in a sensual stroke. Instantly, tingles of sensation whispered up her arm straight to her nipples, which stiffened in urgent desire.
Licking her lips, she once again stifled her response to the intriguing stranger and kept her poker face in place. This immediate attraction she felt had to be due to her prolonged sexual dry spell. But then, that was exactly why she was here.
Her stomach ached, the anxiety building with each step closer to achieving her goal. Could she really go through with it?
Have a seat.
Master Jake released her hand and motioned to the love seat. I’m one of the owners of The Den, and I’d like to talk to you before you proceed into the club.
That didn’t sound good. Is there a problem?
No.
He took a seat across from her, leaning forward in the chair, arms resting on his legs, hands clasped in an intense, aggressive pose. Why are you here, Ms. Reynolds?
She shifted back into the couch, an unconscious move to put more space between them. Please, call me Cali, and I believe what I want is obvious.
She met his gaze and refused to cower. I answered all of the questions Mr. Mathews asked in my screening interviews. Is there still more?
Please, please don’t let them reject her now. Not after she finally had the courage to do this.
I have a few more,
he replied. What specifically are you looking to get out of The Den?
Sex,
she boldly stated, proud of her ability to answer without blushing.
What kind of sex, Cali?
He said her name in a low, taunting way that made her stomach clench and her throat dry. Not to mention the rush of desire that pooled between her thighs.
She crossed her legs, lifted her chin and refused to turn away from his hard, calculating gaze. The kind that makes me come.
Again, a small quirk of a smile curled over his lips before it flattened once more. Gone as fast as it came. He leaned back in the chair and crossed an ankle over the other knee. His dark hair was long, but not so much as to be classified as unkempt. It brushed across his forehead and curled slightly on the ends. Cali imagined it would be the perfect length for gripping when she came.
That thought had her squirming, just slightly, against the soft leather of the love seat. His eyes, a clear gray that was both pure and sinister when paired with his dark hair and bronzed skin, flickered as he registered her movement. Apparently, nothing got by the man.
There are all kinds of sex that can make you come, Cali.
Again, with the purr of her name. Can you be more specific? At The Den, we cater to a wide range of lifestyle choices. Where, exactly, do yours lie?
This time, she had to look away. It had been so long since she’d talked openly about sex, it was incredibly hard for her to trust anyone with her desires.
Cali, look at me.
His voice was low and commanding. He waited until she complied. There’s no wrong answer here. No judgment either. You obviously came to The Den for a reason. It’s my job to see that you get what you want. I can’t do that if you’re not honest with me.
He was right. Of course, he was right. But that didn’t make it any easier for her to talk about it.
Inhaling slowly, she stared at her hands and gathered her courage. Honestly...
she began.
Look at me,
he demanded again, his voice stronger, more insistent.
She immediately responded, her body tingling in a rush of shivers. Why?
Now, continue. And don’t look away again.
Was she doing something wrong already? But she didn’t even know what to do. Yes—
she paused then continued, based on instinct. Sir. If you want honesty, then I have to say I don’t know what I want. I only know what I long for.
And that is?
Her heart raced. It was the moment of truth. Time for her to admit her desires out loud and hope he didn’t laugh. For someone to take control. To know intuitively what I want, sexually. To drive me crazy without me needing to direct the person. I want a man who will take me to the edge, make me beg for more until I don’t think I can take any more, and then give me more.
The loud drum of her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
"Are
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Reviews
Super sweet. Love to see a bdsm book without an Alpha Asshole!
Simply wonderful!
I loved the story, Cali and Jake are right for one another. Less drama is better, no need to drag the story out to make the book longer.
ABOUT THE BOOK:After ending her passionless marriage, Cali Reynolds is eager to live out her forbidden fantasies. Her first step is attending new members' night at The Den, the most exclusive sex club in town. Perhaps here she can find a man who understands her desire to be dominatedAt first, Jake McCallister thinks Cali has come to his club for the wrong reasons. But when he discovers she is seeking fulfillment after years of denial, he's intrigued—and takes it upon himself to initiate her into the pleasures she's been missing.Her first encounter with Jake is everything Cali has always craved, and more; she's not prepared for the feelings he inspires in her. And Jake is just as surprised by his overwhelming attraction to Cali. As their play intensifies, so does their bond. Now, Jake doesn't want anyone but Cali—but is he ready to officially claim her? And will she submit to being his forever?REVIEW: I was pleasantly surprised with this piece. It was gripping, held just the right amount of angst, and wasn’t over the top with BDSM. I’ve read a few reviews on this and have seen many mark it down based on the more “vanilla” approach to the BDSM, but I honestly don’t see the author holding back at all. The scenes are typical of other BDSM books I’ve read and yet, the author doesn’t go over board with them. It’s all very smooth and extremely classy.The growing relationship between Jack and Cali is great. I could have done without the immediate acceptance she seemed to have to the scene and her almost lack of training, but the couple was very sweet together and seemed to bring out the right parts in one another. The only other thing I didn’t really understand was how most of the BDSM scenes were more for a submissive who would have been defiant. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but again, the story was very gripping. From what I can tell is this looks to be book one in a series and it’s one I’m looking forward to following along. Ms. Aicher has a way with her words that draws you into heart of the characters. She is one to be watched and one who has now been added to my “stalking list.”Four out of five stars for a great job.