“I can’t imagine her flicking a whip.” Charlie stared at her. “But she does love the flogger. Actually, I should probably be the one to negotiate. She’s not that great with Doms.”
Up on the stage, Alex was using a four-foot whip on Eve. He and the whip moved with the grace of long use. The cracking sound the whip made belied what Ian knew was nothing more than a sting along her skin followed by a lovely warmth. Charlie used to love the whip. He’d felt like a real Dom the first time she’d subbed out while he was working on her. He felt like he finally truly understood why he’d been attracted to this life. It wasn’t for the kink or because he wanted the control. It was because when she relaxed, he felt necessary. He felt like something beyond a highly paid piece of cannon fodder.
He forced himself away from dangerous thoughts.
“If she wants to find a Dom here, she’s going to have to talk to him herself or I’ll assign one. So she uses it as therapy? The endorphins help with the pain from her leg?” Ian asked, looking back at Chelsea.
“Yeah. She resisted at first, but after she tried it, she really saw a difference. It helps her in a way massage doesn’t.”
“Hidden sub?” Ian asked thoughtfully.
“I think so. I think Chelsea would be much happier if she could let go, but I doubt my sister ever will. She spent too many years without any control. She was very young when my father took us to Russia. She was barely nine. I know she remembers our mom but not like I do. My mom was wonderful. I worry Chelsea didn’t get enough of her.”
“I’m surprised she speaks English without an accent.” It occurred to him that he didn’t just have to worry about Charlie. He had to figure Chelsea out, too. Charlie had given up a lot for her sister.
“I made sure she kept up her English. When we were alone, we always spoke in English. We both speak fluent Russian though, and you wouldn’t be able to tell us from native speakers when we get going. My father hated the fact that he didn’t have a son, but he wasn’t about to be embarrassed by ignorant daughters. My dad had it in his head that he was a czar. Czar’s kids had tutors. Ours happened to be from LA. He was a really smart man, but he ran afoul of my dad’s gambling organization.”
“So he paid off his debt by teaching you and Chelsea.”
“When he wasn’t drunk, he was an excellent tutor,” Charlie admitted.
He hated to think about her childhood. His father might have walked out on them, but at least he and Sean had their mother. She hadn’t been the strongest woman and Ian had been forced to grow up fast, but she hadn’t left them alone with drunks or tortured them to make them strong.
The world could torture a man enough. He didn’t need family members to help the process along.
Chelsea left her spot at the back of the crowd and entered the lounge. She gave a fleeting nod her sister’s way, but seemed to have a goal in mind. She stared at the bar for a moment.
Simon was sitting on a stool beside Jesse, both men with beers in their hands. Jillian took Simon’s empty mug. She kept a stash of his favorite beer in the back and was soon returning with a pint glass. Jesse had what looked to be a Bud in his hand. Straight out of the can. God, he was going to have to work on that kid’s decorum.
“This should be interesting,” he murmured, his hand going to Charlie’s hair. He had to keep up the illusion after all. “It looks like little sister picked a Dom for the night.”
Chelsea was walking straight up to Simon. Simon was dressed in leather pants and a vest with no shirt. Most nights he didn’t take a sub, preferring to spend his time in the bar, but a couple of times he’d negotiated with single subs. He seemed to prefer bondage play, where his sub was completely tied down. Simon had completed his ropes course within weeks of joining the team and now he was studying shibari with Alex.
Ian preferred more extreme play, as Charlie would soon discover.
“I would like to talk to you, Sir.” Chelsea used all the right words, but there was a brattiness to her tone that made Ian frown. At least Charlie knew how to manipulate him. She’d gone right to her knees when he’d caught her tossing Amanda out on her ass.
He’d planned to use Amanda to show Charlie that she couldn’t have everything her way. He should have known better. He’d picked Amanda because she was the one most likely to annoy the holy shit out of Charlie. He was a dumbass because he should have picked someone sweet, someone Charlie couldn’t take on.
Or maybe he’d known what she would do. Maybe it had been there in the back of his head.
He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d been waiting for someone to make a case to get rid of her. He wasn’t stupid. He’d never really bought Amanda’s act. Sure he’d screwed her a couple of times because she was convenient and amenable, but that didn’t mean he thought she was an angel. The subs needed to stand up for themselves, so he’d backed off. He was kind of with Charlie on that one. He would have tossed her out on her ear the minute she opened her mouth, but Eve and Grace had done the Southern-lady thing.
Charlie’s head had come up, and she was watching her little sister. Ian gently forced it back to his lap.
“She’ll be fine.”
“Do you really think Simon is the right Dom for her?” Charlie asked.
He wasn’t sure the Brit was right for anyone. Simon was rigid and hid a wealth of self-consciousness under his perfect exterior. Simon had fucked up in the near past, and he wasn’t over it yet. Nope. Simon likely wasn’t right for anyone now. “I think it’s a single encounter and he’ll either handle it or he won’t. Now stop talking. I can’t hear them when you talk.”
He knew he was being a gossipy old lady, but he kind of wanted to see how Charlie’s sister handled the Brit.
Simon turned, that aristocratic eyebrow arching. “Yes? Do you need something else? I don’t think those leggings are what I selected for you.”
Jesse had turned, and it was obvious from the kid’s expression that he was watching As the Dungeon Turns, too. His eyes went from Simon to Chelsea and back again.
“I got the clothes you gave me, but I requested something different from Master Ian.” She knew all the right things to say, but somehow she put a twist on the polite words to give them a sarcastic edge.
Simon’s eyes trailed across the bar, finding Ian’s and narrowing. “And he gave them to you?”