Free Bottoms Up by Miranda Baker

the pleasure his spankings had brought her. She was going to embarrass them both if she couldn’t get a grip on her temper.
    The paddle hit her ass with a sharp thwack . Destiny cried out. It was just a light blow, a warm-up, really, but helpless tears wet the cold leather beneath her cheek.
    Johnny leaned over her, casting a shadow across her face and concealing her tears. “Who’s making you cry? Him or me?” he whispered tightly.
    The hot tears fell faster. “Him,” she croaked.
    “At least you’re honest.”
    “I can explain,” she said in a broken whisper.
    “I sure as hell hope so. I don’t know what that pretty boy means to you, but it’s something, and from the look in your eyes, something big.”
    Destiny tried to rise from the table, but Johnny held her down with one hand between her shoulder blades.
    “Yellow,” she said. It was more a breath than a word.
    He released his hold on her. “You are going to absolutely ruin my reputation,” he said softly.
    Destiny flinched. She couldn’t disappoint Johnny. Not this way, in his club, in front of a crowd. She pressed her chest to the table and forced the words out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, Sir. You may do whatever you like with me, as we agreed.” The words were dull and wooden, but she felt better saying them.
    “Damn it, Destiny, I told you, it’s only fun if you want it.” His quiet voice shifted, lost its angry edge, and when she looked at him, humor lit his dark eyes, thawing the icy glare that had chilled her to the core. “Let’s split the difference. I’ve known Mistress Karina a long time. She’s a genius with a cane in her hand. Your little boyfriend must like it rough, huh?”
    Destiny’s miserable nod made her cheek slide on the wet leather.
    His lips twitched. “You want me to make him jealous for you?” She felt his fingers slide over her back, following the knobs of her spine from the nape of her neck to the top of her ass.
    She shivered. “You know how to cane?”
    Johnny’s hand dipped to caress her buttocks. He nodded. “From the cradle to the cane. Do you trust me?”
    Destiny bit her lip. She wanted him to Dominate her—for reasons she didn’t understand and with a strength that was impossible to explain. Her beautiful, submissive boys had never inspired the rush she had felt playing with Johnny. But did she trust him? With a cane in his hand?
    She flicked a glance at the couch where Damian crouched. Anger dried her tears. Fickle, fucking pretty boy. Her first reaction to seeing him had been an instant, knee-jerk surge of pent-up longing. Desire for Damian was a habit, a dull reflex of memory. She had shaped her sexuality around his desire to submit, and her innate talent for Dominance had made exploring BDSM with Damian feel natural, logical, almost inevitable. Even after he was gone, she had continued to move deeper into the BDSM world.
    Now she had discovered a whole new submissive side of herself, a side she didn’t want to deny. It had been a long time since she had taken pleasure in being on top. The night Johnny had summoned her in the bar, she’d been bored out of her skull. How long had it been since she’d felt real desire? How long had it been since she’d felt real, period?
    Destiny brought her gaze back to Johnny. Perhaps her Dominant identity should have disappeared with Damian. The more she had struggled to maintain it, the more hollow she had become. Johnny was offering her a chance to recover her identity in a way she would never have considered. Her awareness of Damian, kneeling obediently at his Mistress’s feet, disappeared.
    Her path was simple now, and effortless. She whispered the word, only loud enough for Johnny to hear, “Green.”

    Excitement spiked his heartbeat. Destiny wanted him to cane her. He couldn’t ask for a better opportunity to show her his Dominant side.
    Johnny took a slow, controlled breath. If she trusted him enough to let him do this, he sure as hell had to get