Free Admiring Anna by Kim Dare Page A

leather collar around the man’s neck until a silver tag appeared. “Thank you, Mitch. You may go back to your duties.”
    “Yes, miss.”
    Mitch pulled himself to his feet and quickly made his way toward one of the other women who had just entered the club. Samantha watched him go, feigning far more interest in him than she had ever felt toward any man.
    “Mitch wasn’t what you were looking for when you came here?” Anna asked.
    Playing for time, Samantha once more steadied the plant on its stand. She then took several paces away from the damn thing.
    “He’s not really my type,” Samantha finally mumbled. “I…um…”
    “Had no idea what sort of club this was until he knelt at your feet and offered you his submission?” Anna suggested.
    Samantha cleared her throat. “Something like that.”
    Expecting the worst, she forced herself to look up and meet the other woman’s gaze. To her amazement, Anna actually seemed to be smiling at her.
    “Come and have a drink with me.” As invitations went, it sounded far more like an order.
    “There’s no need for you to be nice to me,” Samantha rushed out. “I just—”
    The sudden crack of a whip on the far side of the room made her jump.
    Anna didn’t laugh, although Samantha was quite prepared to admit that she had every right to.
    “Come on.” Anna’s hand came to rest on the small of Samantha’s back. The heat from her palm quickly soaked through Samantha’s thin T-shirt. It was all Samantha could do not to arch her back like a cat. Hell, it was more luck than judgment that enabled her to hold back a purr!
    As much as part of her loved Anna’s touch, after months of gazing at the model, of wishing that she could get her hands on Anna, and of wishing she could get Anna’s hands on her own body in return, the platonic little caress was a cruel mockery of how Samantha had hoped the evening might end.
    She stepped quickly away, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of the club as quickly as possible. “Really,” she babbled. “It’s fine. I can just—”
    “Samantha,” Anna cut in. “You’re going to come with me and have a drink. The decision has already been made. Just do as you’re told now, there’s a good girl.”
    It was that tone of voice that had first pulled her attention to Anna. Beautiful women were ten a penny in Gerald’s art studio, but one who could make the great artist keep his hands to himself with nothing more than a politely phrased warning and a raised eyebrow…
    “Um… Okay,” Samantha mumbled.
    A moment passed. Anna lifted one hand to stroke Samantha’s hair back from her face.
    It wasn’t until then that Samantha noticed Anna was carrying a riding crop. Her brain short-circuited at the sight of it. Her buttocks tensed as if in anticipation of the first blow. Eyes never leaving the thin strip of black leather, Samantha made no further protest as Anna led her to a small sofa set in a private little alcove on the far side of the room.
    “Why did you come here tonight?” Anna asked, sinking gracefully onto one end of the sofa.
    Samantha glanced across at her as she perched cautiously on the very edge of the seat at the other end of the plush velvet sofa.
    “I heard you mention the club to one of Gerald’s students after one of your sittings.” Samantha was pretty sure she’d never intended to admit anything of the sort, but suddenly the words were out there, and it was too late to snatch them back. “It sounded…interesting,” she mumbled, shrugging, as if it were no big deal.
    “Did you hear me say it’s a club that caters to dominant women?” Anna asked. Idly toying with her crop, she ran the full length of the implement through her fingers again and again. Samantha was mesmerized.
    “And to their admirers,” she said, without thinking. A moment later, Samantha closed her eyes and mentally cursed herself.
    “Pardon?”
    “Nothing,” Samantha said. Sitting back, she slouched down into