When hidden desires meet danger, trust becomes a dangerous game.
Dr. Jillian Hart is a highly skilled counselor who has spent her career helping others navigate their complex emotional lives. But when it comes to her own love life, she's at a loss...
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"God, they are hot when they play." Samantha leaned over and nodded her head to a couple playing on the St. Andrew's Cross on the other side of the pool. "I wonder if the hot one swinging the flogger will play with me afterwards?"
"Really?" Sarcasm dripped off her reply as Jillian followed Samantha's gaze. "That's your boyfriend and one of his other partners."
Samantha grinned. "Yeah. Aren't they hot? I'm hoping I can get them both in bed."
Jillian shook her head. There was no such thing as too much information between them, but Samantha's extreme love life always made her feel naïve. She guessed it came from the ability to explore everything that piqued her interest.
"Why are people such animals?" Samantha moaned and stood. "Alexandra will be pissed if she come back to a club that needs repairs. I need to find Kade and get those guys under control. Wish me luck!" She started toward the pool deck and glanced back with a forced smile. "Stop looking like you're miserable."
Jillian shook her head. For the past two hours, she'd perched on a bar stool watching everyone have a good time while she wondered why she hadn't stayed home. With a discouraged sigh, she scanned the clubs bar and lounge. The elegance seemed in juxtaposition with the small groups of people in various levels of dress gathered around the room. In front of the bar, large garage style glass doors rolled up to make the space flow from inside to the outside. Everything about it seemed in total opposition to the standard concepts of a BDSM club, but then again it was one of the reasons Samantha invited her as a guest. She'd used the excuse of painful elegance as enticement.
On a lounge chair, a muscular brunette caught her attention. His large hands moved across the woman's body he straddled,as he massaged her shoulders. A leather cord with a sterling silver bead hung around his neck. A subtle nod to his Mistress or Master. On the bootblack stand, a man in a white tank and Levi jeans sat while the boi in front of him made his boots shine in the setting sun. In the pool, couples and groups laughed and made out, unfazed by their all natural appearances.
While certain things would singnal the obvious, it was often hard to tell who among the groups were Dominants. She'd learned long ago that appearances and position could be deceiving. Just because someone looked like they were the take charge in the bedroom type, it didn't mean it was true. All around her was evidence of someone, no matter how unlikely, falling to their knees for the right person.
Jillian took a long sip of wine. The trouble was finding the right person. To the world, Jillian was a take no prisoners with her shit together type of girl who could take care of herself. On the inside, she knew the right combination would make her melt but the likelihood of finding him seemed slim in the sea of players.
She sat the empty glass down, and nodded to the bartender. Her stomach growled in protest against the corset which hugged her body into a tight hourglass shape. A glass of wine and a bar snacks sat down in front of her and the bartender smiled.
