panting and aroused, still feeling restraints around her wrists, hearing his low whisper in her ears.
In her spare time, she hit the Internet, researching BDSM. What she discovered hadn’t made her any more comfortable.
Now she paced across her living room. Time to decide what to do. Tonight was bondage night. She could return to the club… Or not.
This was just so complicated. She’d insulted him by refusing to give him her number.
He’d had her car towed and repaired as if it was nothing. He had subs who adored him. He’d hit her with a paddle and let other people do it too. He’d given her the best sex of her life and made her feel beautiful.
He probably wouldn’t even remember her name.
Club Shadowlands
83
That thought stopped her halfway across the room. What if he looked at her like she were…nobody. Another customer. A one-night stand inconveniently showing up. Her arms chilled, and her stomach felt like she’d swallowed cold oatmeal. Could she bear that?
She shook her head. No. No, she really couldn’t. All her arguments disappeared in the face of such humiliation. She couldn’t go back; he wouldn’t --
Her doorbell rang and she frowned. At seven o’clock on a Saturday night, who could be at her door? A pizza delivery to the wrong address?
She checked the peephole -- a delivery man -- and opened the door. “Yes?”
“Miss Jessica Randall?”
“That’s me.”
He handed her a soft package. “Have a nice evening, ma’am.” He left before she could respond.
Too bizarre. She hadn’t ordered anything. After locking the door, she set the package on the glass coffee table and started ripping. Inside the envelope, soft tissue paper wrapped around a…nightie? Taken aback, she held it up. Definitely a nightie in a baby-doll style. A soft pink with a halter top and lacy handkerchief hem. Real silk.
She had never worn anything like that in her life. What in the -- A card lay in the bottom of the package. Bold black handwriting. Tonight is lingerie night for the subs. I would like to see you in this and nothing else. Master Z.
Oh. My. God. Her heart seemed to stutter even as her legs turned wobbly. She dropped onto the couch. He wanted to see her. A thrill ran through her.
And then she frowned. She hadn’t given him her number, let alone her address. How had he known where to send anything? Of course. The limousine driver, she’d given him her address. Sneaky, Master Z.
Once again, he’d known how she felt. Some men might have shown up on her doorstep. Her heart gave a hard thud at the thought of seeing Sir. But he wasn’t that pushy.
84
Cherise Sinclair
Instead, he’d found a smooth way to let her know he wanted to see her. A warm feeling grew in her chest. He hadn’t forgotten her.
Now it was up to her.
She scowled down at his gift. Wear that skimpy thing? Absolutely not.
She stared at it longer. Then, biting her lip, she stripped and slipped on the top. Cool silk drifted around her body. The halter top lifted her breasts up until they almost overflowed, and the bottom… Well, she’d seen shorter. Really. But not much. Although the points of the handkerchief hem dropped in front and back to midthigh, the sides only reached her hips.
She discovered a tiny G-string left in the package and dangled it from one finger. Wear this? What would be the point?
She walked over to a mirror. The nightie really did look pretty good on her, didn’t it?
She twirled so the hemline flirted with her legs. She’d seen less modest outfits at wedding showers. He hadn’t sent something that made her look totally slutty.
Actually, she couldn’t imagine Master Z sending anything vulgar.
She turned again. If she left her hair down, it would cover up a lot of the cleavage. For the drive, she could wear a coat and leave it in the tiny coatroom. Her hands started to sweat.
Was she really, really considering this?
* * * * *
Zachary wandered through the club, nodding to the regulars. The place
In her spare time, she hit the Internet, researching BDSM. What she discovered hadn’t made her any more comfortable.
Now she paced across her living room. Time to decide what to do. Tonight was bondage night. She could return to the club… Or not.
This was just so complicated. She’d insulted him by refusing to give him her number.
He’d had her car towed and repaired as if it was nothing. He had subs who adored him. He’d hit her with a paddle and let other people do it too. He’d given her the best sex of her life and made her feel beautiful.
He probably wouldn’t even remember her name.
Club Shadowlands
83
That thought stopped her halfway across the room. What if he looked at her like she were…nobody. Another customer. A one-night stand inconveniently showing up. Her arms chilled, and her stomach felt like she’d swallowed cold oatmeal. Could she bear that?
She shook her head. No. No, she really couldn’t. All her arguments disappeared in the face of such humiliation. She couldn’t go back; he wouldn’t --
Her doorbell rang and she frowned. At seven o’clock on a Saturday night, who could be at her door? A pizza delivery to the wrong address?
She checked the peephole -- a delivery man -- and opened the door. “Yes?”
“Miss Jessica Randall?”
“That’s me.”
He handed her a soft package. “Have a nice evening, ma’am.” He left before she could respond.
Too bizarre. She hadn’t ordered anything. After locking the door, she set the package on the glass coffee table and started ripping. Inside the envelope, soft tissue paper wrapped around a…nightie? Taken aback, she held it up. Definitely a nightie in a baby-doll style. A soft pink with a halter top and lacy handkerchief hem. Real silk.
She had never worn anything like that in her life. What in the -- A card lay in the bottom of the package. Bold black handwriting. Tonight is lingerie night for the subs. I would like to see you in this and nothing else. Master Z.
Oh. My. God. Her heart seemed to stutter even as her legs turned wobbly. She dropped onto the couch. He wanted to see her. A thrill ran through her.
And then she frowned. She hadn’t given him her number, let alone her address. How had he known where to send anything? Of course. The limousine driver, she’d given him her address. Sneaky, Master Z.
Once again, he’d known how she felt. Some men might have shown up on her doorstep. Her heart gave a hard thud at the thought of seeing Sir. But he wasn’t that pushy.
84
Cherise Sinclair
Instead, he’d found a smooth way to let her know he wanted to see her. A warm feeling grew in her chest. He hadn’t forgotten her.
Now it was up to her.
She scowled down at his gift. Wear that skimpy thing? Absolutely not.
She stared at it longer. Then, biting her lip, she stripped and slipped on the top. Cool silk drifted around her body. The halter top lifted her breasts up until they almost overflowed, and the bottom… Well, she’d seen shorter. Really. But not much. Although the points of the handkerchief hem dropped in front and back to midthigh, the sides only reached her hips.
She discovered a tiny G-string left in the package and dangled it from one finger. Wear this? What would be the point?
She walked over to a mirror. The nightie really did look pretty good on her, didn’t it?
She twirled so the hemline flirted with her legs. She’d seen less modest outfits at wedding showers. He hadn’t sent something that made her look totally slutty.
Actually, she couldn’t imagine Master Z sending anything vulgar.
She turned again. If she left her hair down, it would cover up a lot of the cleavage. For the drive, she could wear a coat and leave it in the tiny coatroom. Her hands started to sweat.
Was she really, really considering this?
* * * * *
Zachary wandered through the club, nodding to the regulars. The place
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