voice louder. “Mr. Hauke is my dad or someone kids idolize. My friends call me Holden.”
“I’m not your friend.” The clipped answer was quick and held that hard tone of certainty that left no doubt she thought that was true. After days of interacting with Liv at the center, he was reminded that this relationship was nothing like the one he had with Vanessa’s sister.
But then, he wasn’t attracted to Liv and he sure as hell couldn’t see Liv laying a flogger over his naked ass.
He sighed and sat up. “Right.” The chair squeaked as he stood, the spindly legs protesting louder than he did.
“Is everything okay?”
He faced her, his decision firm. “My name is Holden. I’m not into degradation or humiliation, but you can call me whatever you like when we’re in a Scene. I get that. But when we’re not in a Scene, you can use my name.” She was using the formality to keep her distance, and he didn’t want distance.
Her gaze went to the window. “Fine.” She spun around and started back down the hall. “Holden.”
The soft roll of his name barely carried over the click of her heels, but he caught it. A smile spread over his lips and the chill that had settled around him dissipated with that one word. He left the dining room, taking the small victory with him.
He might belong to her while he was here, but that went both ways. She was his to take care of. Being her friend was just the first stage in making that happen.
* * *
Vanessa kept her back straight as she led Hauke—Holden—down the stairs to her rec room. She didn’t turn around to see if he was following her. She didn’t need to. His steps were long and sure, his movements almost flowing for someone so large. He didn’t lumber, but glided like he was still on the ice.
And the fact that she knew that irritated her.
His insistence on being called Holden was just another sign that he wasn’t a truly natural submissive. Why am I doing this? It was the same damn question she’d been asking herself since Seth had first called weeks ago. The answer still wasn’t clear, but here she was.
She flicked on the overhead lights, illuminating a room filled with a large sectional couch before a flat-screen TV. A billiards-sized pool table took up most of the space between the couch and the locked door to her playroom.
The carpeting was soft under her heels and the comfortable couch had been selected for the hours spent watching games and the rare movie. The back walls were painted a dark brown, which made the space seem cozy and countered the bank of windows that included a walkout to a brick patio. The bottom level had been built into a small hill, so from the front, no one knew it was there.
She sat on the couch and waited for him to do the same. “Better?” She didn’t bother to hide the hint of sarcasm in her voice. In truth, she liked her subs to be at ease with her, but Holden was crossing her boundaries once again.
She could still end it. Either of them could at any time.
His smile was full, the boyish good looks showing through. “Yes, Mistress. Thank you.”
Oh, he thought he’d won something. Not for long.
“I’m only your Mistress when we’re in the playroom.” The Mistress tripped her Domme notes but also reminded her that the hockey player shouldn’t be here. She set the papers next to her to keep from crumpling them into a ball. “You don’t need to call me that otherwise.”
“But I like calling you Mistress.”
“And I like calling you Mr. Hauke.”
He chuckled softly and gave her a nod. “Vanessa then. Does that work?”
Not really, but Ms. Delcour was too formal. V? No, that was for family. Mistress V was for the club. So it came down to her given name. The one used by both friends and associates. “Sure.” She shuffled through the papers, more as a distraction than need. “By what you’ve marked, it looks like you’re interested in a range of BDSM play that mostly involves bondage, submission and
“I’m not your friend.” The clipped answer was quick and held that hard tone of certainty that left no doubt she thought that was true. After days of interacting with Liv at the center, he was reminded that this relationship was nothing like the one he had with Vanessa’s sister.
But then, he wasn’t attracted to Liv and he sure as hell couldn’t see Liv laying a flogger over his naked ass.
He sighed and sat up. “Right.” The chair squeaked as he stood, the spindly legs protesting louder than he did.
“Is everything okay?”
He faced her, his decision firm. “My name is Holden. I’m not into degradation or humiliation, but you can call me whatever you like when we’re in a Scene. I get that. But when we’re not in a Scene, you can use my name.” She was using the formality to keep her distance, and he didn’t want distance.
Her gaze went to the window. “Fine.” She spun around and started back down the hall. “Holden.”
The soft roll of his name barely carried over the click of her heels, but he caught it. A smile spread over his lips and the chill that had settled around him dissipated with that one word. He left the dining room, taking the small victory with him.
He might belong to her while he was here, but that went both ways. She was his to take care of. Being her friend was just the first stage in making that happen.
* * *
Vanessa kept her back straight as she led Hauke—Holden—down the stairs to her rec room. She didn’t turn around to see if he was following her. She didn’t need to. His steps were long and sure, his movements almost flowing for someone so large. He didn’t lumber, but glided like he was still on the ice.
And the fact that she knew that irritated her.
His insistence on being called Holden was just another sign that he wasn’t a truly natural submissive. Why am I doing this? It was the same damn question she’d been asking herself since Seth had first called weeks ago. The answer still wasn’t clear, but here she was.
She flicked on the overhead lights, illuminating a room filled with a large sectional couch before a flat-screen TV. A billiards-sized pool table took up most of the space between the couch and the locked door to her playroom.
The carpeting was soft under her heels and the comfortable couch had been selected for the hours spent watching games and the rare movie. The back walls were painted a dark brown, which made the space seem cozy and countered the bank of windows that included a walkout to a brick patio. The bottom level had been built into a small hill, so from the front, no one knew it was there.
She sat on the couch and waited for him to do the same. “Better?” She didn’t bother to hide the hint of sarcasm in her voice. In truth, she liked her subs to be at ease with her, but Holden was crossing her boundaries once again.
She could still end it. Either of them could at any time.
His smile was full, the boyish good looks showing through. “Yes, Mistress. Thank you.”
Oh, he thought he’d won something. Not for long.
“I’m only your Mistress when we’re in the playroom.” The Mistress tripped her Domme notes but also reminded her that the hockey player shouldn’t be here. She set the papers next to her to keep from crumpling them into a ball. “You don’t need to call me that otherwise.”
“But I like calling you Mistress.”
“And I like calling you Mr. Hauke.”
He chuckled softly and gave her a nod. “Vanessa then. Does that work?”
Not really, but Ms. Delcour was too formal. V? No, that was for family. Mistress V was for the club. So it came down to her given name. The one used by both friends and associates. “Sure.” She shuffled through the papers, more as a distraction than need. “By what you’ve marked, it looks like you’re interested in a range of BDSM play that mostly involves bondage, submission and
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