I shouldn’t have talked to her Doms at all. It was wrong and awkward and I’m certain I embarrassed her, but I was caught off guard at seeing her there like that.
And it’s been so very long.
“You got a light?” A feminine voice from beside me catches my attention and I turn. The Domme standing by the side of the building is obviously comfortable with herself and the club. She’s not hiding her appearance under a trench c
oat or a long jacket. She’s just outside in her corset and leather pants, and she’s holding out a cigarette.
“Sorry,” I tell her. “I don’t.”
She shrugs.
“It’s no bother. The others will be out here soon enough, and they’ve always got lighters.”
“The others?”
The doors to the club open and a group of Dommes pour out. Like the first girl, they’re all wearing their corsets and tight skirts and pants like badges of honor. There’s no room here for meekness or fear. They smile brightly, laughing and talking about their submissives. The first girl gets her cigarette lit, and then one of the other women notices me.
“Hey,” she says. She’s got long red hair that’s curled and hanging loose over her shoulders. It’s gorgeous, and if she were a submissive, I’d definitely want to play with her. Something tells me she’s the type of woman who isn’t afraid to go after what she wants. Not her. She’s bold and she doesn’t let the world hold her back. No, she tells the world how it’s going to be.
She looks at me now, considering me.
“You’re the guy who interrupted Taylor’s scene.”
The other Dommes immediately stop chatting and look over at me.
“Yeah,” one of them says. Her blonde hair is pulled back tightly into a fierce bun. “What was up with that?”
They all stare at me expectantly, waiting for me to explain myself. The problem is that I’m not sure that I can, actually. I know it was unconventional, to say the least. It was also really fucking rude.
“I’m sorry about that,” I start to say, but one of the women shakes her head.
“Not good enough,” she says. “I get that you’re new,” she gestures to my wristband. Bright pink, it stands out like a sore thumb against my black clothing. “But that doesn’t excuse what you did.”
“I realize that.”
“I don’t know if you do. We respect Taylor around here. We don’t go interrupting each others’ scenes, especially for no good reason.”
No good reason?
Well, I had a good reason. At least, I thought I did. He was hurting a woman who is very important to me. Or at least, she was, once upon a time. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Mallory Franklin, though, and apparently, some things have changed.
“It was wrong of me,” I say.
A couple of the Dommes start murmuring about my rudeness, but one of them looks at me carefully.
“You know her,” she says thoughtfully.
“A long time ago,” I tell her honestly. I’m not sure why I’m being so blunt with these women. The Dommes of a club are important and they deserve respect and honor regardless of what they’re doing. Although I’m a Dominant myself, I’m finding that it’s hard to hold back when it comes to telling them how I’m feeling.
“So you walked in to what, accidentally bump into her?” She says, but there’s no judgment in her words.
“Something like that.”
The women all look at me. A couple of them shake their heads. Finally, one of them speaks up.
“Look, they aren’t together.”
“What?” I look over at her sharply. Her makeup is heavy, yet somehow subdued. She’s standing perfectly straight, probably courtesy of her five-inch heels, and her posture is the best I’ve ever seen.