Free In the Zone by Sierra Cartwright Page A

covering her mouth. “Did I say that out loud?”
    Alani laughed, tension slowly leaving her body.
    Willow dropped her hand. “He’s a wannabe but never gonna be. At least you’ll still scene with him. But if yawning will get me a spanking from Master Nathaniel, I’ll never drink coffee again.”
    “It wasn’t intentional.”
    “I wouldn’t blame you if it was. He’s freaking gorgeous. You’re the envy of every sub here tonight, do you know that?”
    “Even though I’m totally in trouble and got written up?”
    “Every one of us would trade places with you. The write-up means nothing. You’re good; everyone knows it. It will be forgotten in a couple of days.”
    She hadn’t known whether to expect support from her fellow employees or not. She’d been a bit embarrassed to return to the club, but Willow made it painless. “Frankly, I think Master Nathaniel is a bit of an ass.”
    “But so incredible. C’mon, Alani, admit it. He’s hot.”
    She shrugged.
    “C’mon.”
    “Yeah,” Alani said eventually. “All right. He’s hot. If you go for that type.”
    Willow rolled her eyes. “What type is that? The tall, dark, and dangerous type? Hell, I’d sign up, but turns out he’s only interested in you. Master AJ called and said he was held up by something and wouldn’t make it on time for his demo. So he asked Master Nathaniel to fill in. All three of our subs are available, and I’d be willing to bet a bunch of our guests would raise their hand and volunteer to help him with the scene. But Master Nathaniel said it had to be you. He said it was part of your retraining.” Willow shrugged. “As if. He just wants a chance to play with you. The other subs said they’re going to start misbehaving if scening with Master Nathaniel is part of the punishment.”
    Alani laughed.
    “Anyway, the other girls are turning green with envy.”
    A patron walked into the dressing room.
    “If I get a chance, I’ll pop in and check out your class,” Willow said. “Have fun!”
    Nerves slammed into Alani again. It was becoming a regular occurrence where this man was concerned. If she wasn’t careful, she could become addicted to his punishments.
    She combed her hair, freshened her makeup, and then checked her clothing.
    So far, Master Nathaniel had found her submissive skills lacking. And she intended to prove herself. She didn’t need retraining. She just needed to avoid Master Limp Wrist.
    At eighteen past the hour, she headed for the classroom. Just inside the door, she paused, mesmerized.
    Master Nathaniel was already on the stage, and a spotlight shined on him. Behind him, a St. Andrew’s cross loomed threateningly. She was sure he’d chosen the device intentionally, making her remember yesterday’s indiscretion.
    He’d turned the cross sideways. Her back wouldn’t be to the audience; the attendees would be able to see more of her body, more of what he was doing to her.
    During the time she’d been in the dressing room, he’d changed. He wore black leather pants that hugged his hips and thighs. He’d donned black motorcycle boots. He’d traded his white dress shirt for a snug black T-shirt. He was shaking a flogger at his side as he looked toward the entrance, at her. Rational thought told her that the spotlight blinded him, that he really couldn’t see her. But it was as if he sensed her presence.
    She stood there for a moment until a couple of attendees asked if they could pass.
    She took a step into the room.
    Drawing a fortifying breath, she walked to the stage, shoulders held back, determined no one would know how emotionally exposed she suddenly felt.
    She climbed the stairs, trying to take in everything. There was a small table off to one side with a bottle of water on top of it. A large bottle of lube sat on the tabletop. A small drawer was partially opened. She knew he probably had an assortment of torture devices in there. And she wanted him to use them on her.
    At the top of the stairs, he