Bite the Bullet Page 2

  “Thank you.”

  He indicated the woman with him. “My wife, Katie.”

  “Hi! Welcome to Rawhide.” Katie Halliday was a vivacious, self-confident woman, but when she looked at her husband, she might as well have had submissive stamped in her forehead.

  “I’ll leave Montana to your excellent care,” Clint told his partner. “Devyn and I need to make sure everything’s set for the performance. I’ll see you later, Miss Steele.”

  “Montana, please.” She sat down in the chair Reece had pulled out for her.

  “In about fifteen minutes, we’ll go take our seats in the audience,” Reece told her. “Would you like something to drink?”

  Most clubs had a two drink maximum, even if you weren’t there to play, but she’d always found liquor dulled her senses and prevented her from enjoying herself to the fullest, so she shook her head. Alcohol also had a tendency to erode control so she stayed away from it.

  “Just coffee, please.”

  She found the Hallidays friendly and easy to be with. They asked about her move, her purchase of the ranch, and the business she was taking over. Finally, she managed to slide in a question she hoped was casual. “Reece, your partner seems like an interesting person. Have the two of you owned this place long?”

  Katie swallowed a grin and glanced at Reece.

  “We’ve been friends for years,” he said. “And trust each other enough to own this club together.” Amusement danced in his eyes. “What would you like to know about him?”

  “Nothing special.” She shrugged. “Just interested in his background. Tom gave me a thumbnail on yours when he said he’d recommend me here but didn’t mention your partners. Clint seems to know what he’s doing here.”

  And does he play with the customers? Or go elsewhere?

  Does he have a steady relationship?

  But she didn’t think she was in any position to ask further question.

  Thankfully, Katie looked at her watch. “We really need to take our seats now. We’ll have time to chat later. You’ll enjoy tonight’s performance. Melora is an expert with the single tail whip.” She glanced at her husband and grinned. “Not as good as Reece, of course.”

  “So we’ll be watching a female top tonight?” Montana asked. Something coiled tight low in her belly, her nipples hardened and pushed against the satin of her bra, and cream gushed into her thong. A Domme! Watching a really good one was almost as sexually arousing as performing herself.

  “Yes.” Reece guided them to their seats in the front row.

  “She’s something of a star here.”

  “Then I certainly came on the right night.”

  Although the whip was not her punishing instrument of choice. She preferred the cane, especially the one with the smooth fiberglass construction that stung with each application. Or a paddle made with material that looked like a tire tread. The marks it left on a sub branded him as hers.

  She also liked to gag her subs. They could still moan around the restraint, but it gave them something to sink their teeth into as she alternately caressed them and punished them, never letting them know which would come next.

  In the early years of her marriage to Dusty, she loved to punish him until his ass was red and stinging just before he competed. She’d sit in the stands, horny as hell, knowing how the rough coat of the bull was rubbing the sore flesh of his buttocks. And how aroused he’d be when they got home and beg to fuck her brains out.

  Toward the end, she gained less sexual satisfaction out of laying the cane across his skin and more a feeling of retribution for the way he was destroying her. Montana swallowed a sigh. She’d finally had the sense to kick him out before the entire situation became destructive and she turned into someone she didn’t even know. She’d spent the past six months in celibate solitude, pulling in the tattered edges of her wits and her emotions. Rawhide gave her the opportunity to dip her toes in the water again. Now she was ready to move beyond that.

  She hoped.

  Moments later, they seated themselves, all the lights in the club dimmed, and overhead spots in the performance area became bright and all-encompassing. The entire glassed-in stage was lit up like the sun at high noon. In the center was an apparatus that Montana herself had often used, a rectangular frame padded with thick leather built on a platform that rotated. Attached to each corner were manacles.

  It allowed the sub to be restrained, but unlike with the St.

  Andrews Cross, the entire body was exposed with no support except at ankles and wrists. It not only allowed minimal movement as the instrument of punishment was applied, but also, with a male sub, it could be rotated to give the audience full view of the man’s cock and its reaction to the pleasure/pain.

  A door at the far side of the area opened, and a couple strode in so striking they took Montana’s breath away. The man was at least six foot four, with a lean, muscular body, a chiseled faced and thick sun streaked blond hair that had been expensively razor-cut. The well-defined muscles in his body stretched and tightened as he walked. Nipple clamps were attached to his chest, and his magnificent flesh was completely oiled, glistening beneath the overhead lights.

  The woman was equally as attention-getting. She was a good foot shorter, although the stiletto-heel boots she wore added to her heights. Her hair was blonde, also, the color so pale as to be almost silver. She wore it pulled back and anchored with a wide black clip. Other than her boots, she wore only a bustier that lifted her breasts so they appeared to be resting on a shelf. Her pussy was completely exposed.

  Montana wondered if the hair was close trimmed or just so pale, like that on her head, as to be nearly invisible from this distance.

  And right behind them, Clint Chavez moved with the grace of a panther, the heat of his presence searching out Montana even through the glass. She shifted in her seat and crossed her legs, squeezing her thighs against the sudden surge of lust.

  Clint stood in the center of the room and smiled at the audience.

  “Good evening.” His voice came through what was obviously a state of the art sound system. “Welcome to Performance Night at Rawhide. Tonight we have one of your favorite couples, Linc Stoddard and Melora Regan. When we asked for preferences you chose them almost overwhelmingly.” He glanced over at Melora. “It must be your beautiful blue eyes that gets them, darlin’.”

  She smiled, shook her head, and lifted the coiled whip from her shoulder. “I think it’s my toy they’re fascinated with.

  Oh, and of course, Linc’s wonderful screams.”

  Clint turned back toward the spectators. “As you know, Melora is an expert with the single tail whip, trained by Rawhide’s own Reece Halliday.”

  Montana slid a glance sideways at the mention of Reece’s name. Katie was looking at her husband with a hungry look on her face. Reece brought her hand up to his lips and ran his tongue over the knuckle. Just the intimacy of the gesture made Montana shiver.

  “I know you want to see our starring couple get to it,” Clint was saying, “so I’ll turn the floor over to Melora.”

  Tugging Linc to stand next to her, she took Clint’s place as he moved out of the enclosure.

  “For those of you seeing us for the first time, tonight I’ll be demonstrating the use of the single tail whip as an instrument both of punishment and extreme pleasure.” She turned to Linc and ran one hand slowly over the upper part of his body, pausing to tug at the chain between the nipple clips.

  The man’s cock jerked in response and his body stiffened slightly, but his face was expressionless.

  I wonder if Clint has ever been whipped? Maybe he prefers the cane and paddle like I do.

  Stop it! You can’t do this again. Choose someone who hasn’t suddenly assaulted your emotions. Besides, he’s one of the owners. Off limits. That should put up a big enough barrier.

  But she’d been in sexual isolation for so long that all her hormones were waking up and doing a fast two step everywhere in her body. Not helped a
t all by the rampant sexuality of one Clint Chavez. Or the powerful connection that had exploded between them. She dug her nails into her palms to still her racing emotions.

  “The whip can be an instrument of great pleasure if used, properly,” she continued, trailing her hand down Linc’s stomach to the caged cock. When she tugged on it, Linc tensed again but remained at attention, hands clasped behind his back.

  Melora uncoiled the whip and let it trail lazily on the floor, walking around the immobile man, eyes tracing invisible paths over his body.

  “I like to oil Linc’s body in preparation,” she said in a sultry voice. “It allows the tail of the whip to slide over the skin more easily and also helps to prevent scarring if I happen to be a little, shall we say, enthusiastic in its application. We have been playing with the whip for a long time, and as you can see, his back, ass, and thighs are still quite smooth.

  Barely marked.”

  She lifted the handle of the whip and in a fluid motion snapped it in the air so the thin strip of leather made a resounding crack as it sliced through the air. Although it came close to his body, Linc didn’t flinch.

  Montana recrossed her legs, reminding herself it would be bad form to slide back and forth on her seat to ease the throbbing in her pussy. Her breasts ached so badly she wanted to rip open the short leather jacket and squeeze them as hard as she could. And they’d barely even started. Another signal that she’d been denying herself for far too long.

  She stole a glance at the Hallidays. Katie was leaning forward now, face flushed, eyes shining with avid interest.

  Reece had one arm around her across the back of her seat, his hand draped over her shoulder, his fingers idly tracing lines across the top of one breast. His face was taut with desire. They’d be some outstanding couple to watch at play.

  “Lincoln has been very, very bad today,” Melora was saying. “He has begged me to punish him so I am going to oblige.”

  Gripping the chain between the nipple clamps, she tugged until Linc followed her to the rectangular contraption. Coiling the whip around her shoulder for the moment, she took great care in locking the manacles around her sub’s wrists and ankles, then running her hands lightly over every inch of mouthwatering body. Finally, she touched a switch in the platform with her toe and the apparatus rotated so Linc was facing the audience.

  Reaching between his legs, she cupped his balls, squeezing, and Montana could see the tension in every rigid line of Linc Stoddard’s well-defined muscles. His Domme teased him with her touch, no doubt ordering him not to react lest his punishment increase.

  At last she was satisfied and rose to her feet.

  “And now,” she announced, “we begin.”

  Chapter Two

  Montana felt the sexual tension in the room encircle everyone like an erotic fog. She glanced around beneath lowered eyelashes to see the other spectators and how they were reacting. On the other side of the Hallidays, a man had lifted his companion into his lap, flipped up her skirt, and was slowly stroking her cunt while he stared straight ahead.

  Further down the row, one woman had shed her blouse completely, exposing her breasts and the sparkling nipple clamps attached to them while her companion tugged on the chain between them and kneaded the firm mounds.

  “The audience is as fascinating as the performers, aren’t they?”

  The deep voice vibrated the air next to her, and a hot flush crept over every inch of Montana’s skin. She turned her head slowly to see Clint crouched beside her aisle seat. She clenched her thigh muscles as a drumbeat thundered through the walls of her cunt.

  This man should have Danger! imprinted on his forehead.

  Especially for me.

  “Yes.” She hoped her voice sounded normal. “I’ve often found that to be true.”

  He inclined his head toward the performance area. “She’s getting ready to begin.”

  Melora indeed was ready. She had rotated the platform again and now rubbed her hand once more over Linc’s very fine ass and down his thighs. Then she lifted the hand holding the whip, and the air cracked once more. The tail landed just next to Linc’s tense body. But the next lash struck the backs of his thighs. Then it struck again. Narrow stripes of red bloomed on his skin. He jerked with each one, but he had yet to make a sound.

  Now Melora was really getting warmed up. The whip struck again and again, leaving its mark on the man’s back, his ass, and his thighs. With each kiss of the instrument, his body quivered then stilled. His fists clenched in the restraints. He began to respond vocally, his cries carrying through the speakers into the audience. Rising in intensity as Melora wielded the whip again and again.

  Montana preferred to gag her subs, but each Domme had her own preferences. For many of them, the screams of pain that rode the hot edge of pleasure were as arousing as administering the punishment.

  Melora let the tail of the whip drag on the floor as she rotated the platform again. Her eyes roamed Linc’s body, taking in his heaving chest as he dragged in air and the taut strain of his muscles. She moved around to his front and wrapped her fingers around his cock, leather cage and all.

  “Ah,” she crooned. “So hot and swollen. You love the kiss of the lash, don’t you, my pet?”

  Montana had to strain to hear what, if anything, he said.

  “I don’t think everyone heard you.” Melora’s voice was firm. “Do you need more encouragement?”

  She must have squeezed his shaft harder because every muscle in the man’s body flexed.

  “Yes, Mistress.” His voice was hoarse from screaming. “It gives me great pleasure.”

  “And you beg me for it,” she prompted.

  He nodded. “All the time.”

  “Perhaps you would like to come now. Are your balls full?

  Are you ready to explode?”

  Montana was sure everyone in the room was aware that he was. As were many in the audience. She almost let her hand creep along her thigh and beneath her skirt when she remembered where she was. And that Clint Chavez was crouched beside her. She slid her gaze to him and was startled to see the lust flaming in his eyes, the muscle twitching in his jaw, the fine tension radiating from his body.

  When she stole a glance at him, he rose and took a step away.

  “They’re nearly finished,” he told her in a low voice. “I need to meet with Devyn, my manager, to see if she’s readied all the rooms that have been reserved. And that the bar is fully stocked.” His eyes glittered. “We’re always busy after a demonstration on Performance Night.”

  “I can understand.” She was proud of herself that her voice sounded so normal, as aroused as she was. And it wasn’t just the performance. It was the man next to her.

  “I’ll find you in the lounge afterward, and we can get your paperwork taken care of.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “You’re approving me? So quickly?”

  He shrugged. “You come highly recommended, and now that I’ve met you, nothing changes that.”

  “Thank you, then.”

  “I’m sure it will be my pleasure to have you as a member here.”

  And exactly what did he mean by that?

  What the fuck was he doing?

  Clint wanted to smack his head and rattle his traitorous brain as he moved away from Montana. He never played with the clientele. Ever. Never, never, never. He’d seen too many times what happened when a relationship soured and the club was affected. And he always kept an emotional distance from his Mistresses. Juggling the two aspects of his life was always a balancing act.

  Reece had tried to convince Clint that the knowledge he was a sexual submissive would in no way impact his image as an owner of Rawhide. That he of all people should know how many, many totally masculine males were sexual submissives—even in law enforcement and the military—and it hadn’t affected their lives at all. But Clint had had one very bad experience and didn’t intend to repeat it, so he guarded his personal life very closely.

  But som
ething about Montana Steele reached deep down inside him and grabbed his cock and his balls and refused to let go. Something so elemental he felt it in every place in his body. He could imagine himself on his knees before her, hands bound behind his back, gag firmly in his mouth while she punished and tormented him until he strained for release.

  It wasn’t just a physical attraction, and that was what scared him. He’d promised himself not to get emotionally involved ever again. Too big a trap. But the moment he’d seen Montana in the reception area, sharp spears of lightning had reached down deep inside him and zapped him emotionally. Right where he lived. If he had any sense, he’d go hide in his office and leave a note for Reece to handle everything. But apparently the jolt of electricity had fried his brain at the same time.

  From the relative safety of a dark corner, he watched the end of the performance. He’d seen it before. Melora released Linc’s cuffs and picked up the whip again. This time she trailed it over his body like a lover’s kiss, leaving each coil loosely wrapped around him. He could move his hands but only within a limited range. Then she pulled a small chair over to sit in front of him. Very carefully she unbuckled the latches on the latticed cock ring and slid it from his engorged shaft.

  She kept her eyes locked with his as she wet her finger, stroking it down her tongue, then rubbed it over the head of his dick. Although he stood perfectly still, his fists opened and closed as he worked to maintain his control.

  Finally, with the audience watching, mesmerized, she ordered him to masturbate and to pour his release onto her breasts. As he wrapped his hands around the heavy erection, Clint shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from ripping his fly open and jerking off right then and there. He watched Montana inch forward to the edge of her seat, rocking slightly.

  To ease the pulsing in her cunt.

  Something Clint would have been very happy to do.

  Melora reached between Linc’s thighs and massaged his balls, her gaze locked with his as if compelling him not to look elsewhere. Her other hand stole between her thighs to find her clit. Although her back blocked much of the view, it was impossible not to know she was fondling her clit and her pussy as she watched her sub stroke himself to completion.