BEG ME (e-book now available!)

Chapter 1

"Do you need a Master, little girl? I can be the one to own you."

Tessa turned, facing the man who spoke the words. He was about the same age as her. His blond hair fell in perfectly shaped bangs around his face. His dark eyes flashed with sparks of interest.

She raked her gaze over the rest of him. Tall, lean and tanned, he wore leather pants laced at the sides. They rode low on his hips and cupped an impressive bulge at the crotch. A leather waistcoat covered his bare, waxed chest.

Her body heated. A soft throb beat between her thighs. "Thanks, but no thanks."

He grinned, flashed a set of perfectly whitened teeth. "I can be your little boy if you prefer."

A shiver of desire and trepidation ran down her spine. "No, thanks."

The man shrugged. "Your loss. Let me know if you change your mind." He moved into the crowd, lost in the throng of people.

Sending up a silent thank you to whatever gods listened, Tessa found a quiet corner booth and sat down. Inferno was the latest in a series of BDSM clubs opening up in the area, catering specifically to high-class clientele.

Not usually the kind of place she'd visit but Tessa had been curious. In all her sexual relationships, something had been missing. She'd always been curious about BDSM, she even admitted it to her fiancé back in college only to be told she was "abnormal". After that disastrous experience, she'd pushed her desires to the back of her mind. Part of her reason for becoming a sex therapist was to help others who were having problems. Maybe then she could come to terms with her own needs.

In reality, she buried herself in her work and other people's problems. She didn't know if the club would help. The pounding beat intensified her nerves, made her wonder if she should be there, if she'd made the wrong decision.

In one of her sessions, a female patient had described the thrill of being a submissive to a Dominant Master. The description sent a buzz zinging through her, a feeling she rarely experienced. While the woman talked, describing intimate details of having clamps attached to various body parts, Tessa's body burned as she imagined sharp teeth biting into the delicate flesh.

It had occurred to her that maybe she needed that kind of relationship. Maybe she needed to be submissive. To her analytical mind, it made sense. Every day she experienced control—she was always the dominant personality. Her darkest sexual desires involved relinquishing some of that tightly held control to someone else.

To a Master.

Every time she thought about it, feelings of guilt arose. Maybe her ex-fiancé had been right. Wanting to be beaten and tied up wasn't normal.

Taking her own advice, she'd pushed aside her fears and researched informal BDSM gatherings—"munches", she'd learned they were called—and clubs in the area.

She'd taken weeks to work up the courage and now that she was here, Tessa hadn't a clue what to do.

Various people milled around in different types of BDSM outfits. Many were subtle in their choices. Some were bolder, wearing their fetish like a badge. The heavy beat of sensual music thudded, throbbing in time with the crowd on the dance floor. Scents of alcohol, cologne and the musk of people packed together in a small space filled the air. Wearing a tailored black pencil skirt, slightly heeled boots and a black cotton shirt, Tessa stuck out like a sore thumb.

A blonde waitress stopped next to her table. "You want a drink, honey?"

She smiled at the young woman. At a guess, the girl was in her early twenties. Most likely a college student earning extra cash. The outfit she wore was, unsurprisingly, leather—a revealing black bustier and an obscenely short skirt. Her shoes, thigh-high latex without a heel. Sexy yet practical.