Free What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) by Maddie Taylor

grind her teeth. When this assignment was done, she was deleting all of those titillating BDSM stories from her Kindle. Fantasy was one thing, but reality, so did not do it for her.
    With number twenty, though the actual count was really twenty-three, she heaved a relieved sigh. Jumping, when his hand returned to rub her burning skin, soothing the sting away somewhat.
    A few minutes later she was off the bench and wrapped in a soft, fuzzy blanket, half-lying across Dan’s lap while ensconced snugly in his arms. A strange foggy lethargy consumed her. Vaguely, she reflected on how her pretend Dom didn’t seem quite so pretend anymore.
    He squeezed her in a tight hug, asking, “So, little newbie, what did you think about your first session?”
    “Maybe you could ask me tomorrow when my brain and behind are in functional order once more?”
    He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re stringing your words together pretty well. How about giving it a try now?”
    “Well,” she began, wriggling atop his thighs until she found a more comfortable spot on one hip. “I found it all incredibly intimate. The first part wasn’t entirely awful, but I think I could have done without that leather tormenter, Sir.”
    “I have two things to say about that statement. First, if I’d spared you the leather, you would have missed the lesson and wouldn’t remember the difference when tempted to get sassy in the future.”
    Meaning in LA, it was game time in order to fool, and subsequently catch, the abductor. He lapsed into silence until she prompted, “What’s the second thing?”
    He lowered his mouth to her ear. “If I was your Dom for real, I’d have proven you didn’t find any of it entirely awful.”
    She swallowed, not saying a word because he wasn’t wrong.
     

Chapter Five
     
     
    Dressed in a hot pink racer-back tank and black Capri pants, Angie paced the mat in the gym at Rossi. The clock on the wall read 8:15 a.m. Dan was late. He was never late. Something was up.
    The metal door clanged as it opened behind her, but it wasn’t Dan. It was Cap, followed closely by Lil T. She frowned. Something was definitely up.
    “Change in plans, Angie. Dan got called away on a family emergency last night.”
    This was surprising. They’d parted ways less than eight hours ago. “Nothing serious, I hope.”
    “Not life threatening, fortunately,” Cap replied, quickly dispelling her fears. “His mother had a wipe out on her scooter and broke her hip.”
    Picturing a little old lady with gray hair in one of those slow-going power chairs with the wide base and seat belt that probably topped out at four miles per hour, she tilted her head and inquired, “How exactly does one wipe out on one of those?”
    He smiled. “I should clarify. Marjorie Ogilvie is not your average seventy-two-year-old. Her scooter was a 300-class Honda Forza. According to Dan, she was street racing, cut a corner too sharply while passing on the inside lane, and wiped out. He flew out to Dallas on a 6 a.m. flight.”
    “Of course.” In the weeks she’d been working with Dan, she’d frequently seen him ride in on his custom Harley, a Super Glide he’d called it. It was hot and as they became close she’d finagled a ride on the back a time or two, and loved it. She smiled, thinking about his mother on a souped-up scooter. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. “I’ll call him and see if there’s anything I can do.”
    “I’m sure he’d appreciate that, Angie,” Cap said with a small smile. His eyes cut to T who stood silently beside him.
    When she did the same, her smile faded seeing the glower on his face. Without being told, she knew why T was there.
    “T is going to take over your training, here and at the club.”
    Hearing precisely what she’d expected, it still struck her like a blow. Angie’s head swung to her boss. No! It couldn’t happen.
    A vivid memory of him with the woman tied to the bench invaded her thoughts. His