That was when she looked up and saw Max. He was sitting by the rail in the coffee area, and he had his eyes on her, his face in that expressionless mode that fascinated her, because of all she sensed behind it.

In that moment, she changed her mind about the private room. “Thor, please secure Room Six for us. I don’t think anyone is using it. Wait for me there.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

As she crossed the floor to the narrow catwalk that passed directly beneath the coffee area, Max’s eyes never left her. She felt like he noticed everything, how the snug clothes fit over her breasts and thighs, hips and legs, how she moved in them. That regard made her stride become more pendulous and provocative. When his gaze sharpened on her, she wet her lips.

He was wearing a white dress shirt and black slacks. Ben had had an afternoon meeting that required more formal attire from his driver, but she was surprised Max hadn’t changed before coming here. He’d shed coat and tie though.

She stopped below where he was sitting. He’d scraped back the chair as she approached, and amused her now by sitting down on the floor by the chair, letting his legs dangle over the wall. She pressed her upper body against his calf, gripping his knee to stretch up and be heard over the club’s boisterous noise. Accommodating her, he leaned down, his fingers settling high on her rib cage, the other hand braced on the rail by his head. His ear was now close to her lips and she indulged herself, nuzzling the short dark-blond hair behind it, smelling that sea salt smell.

“Waiting on one of the guys?” she asked.

He shook his head, gestured at the table. “Coffee’s good here. Just got off work. Dinner deal with Ben and the Michigan steel plant folks. He got them hammered, had them agreeing to all sorts of things that’ll put their company in Matt’s portfolio before Christmas.”

“No doubt,” she said, already imagining the research workload on her and Alice’s desks on Monday.

Max tangled his fingers with hers, lifting her hand to examine the sleek fit of the glove, his thumb rubbing the thin fabric over her palm. “I dropped them off at their hotel. Figured I’d stop here before I went home.”

So there were no restrictions to dictate his reasons for being here tonight. She was tempted to drop Thor, try to coax Max to take his place, but she had a code of conduct when it came to her subs. Plus she knew Max wouldn’t do it. But he was here, wasn’t he?

“I’m taking a private room tonight, but you’re welcome to come watch. Thor’s a public player. He won’t mind. Room Six.”

He shrugged. “I’ll be here with my coffee. Why don’t you come join me when you’re finished?”

A standoff. She withdrew her fingers and stepped back. “If you get done before I return, don’t stay up past your bedtime on my account. My invitation stands.”

He nodded, rising to his feet and taking his seat again. When she reached the archway that led to the private rooms, she glanced back to see him sipping his coffee, still watching her. Being the center of his focus could unsettle a woman, for certain. In a lovely way.

Room Six had mirrors on one wall, a bench and steel frame in the center of the room that provided various restraint options, and several comfortable chairs along the non-mirrored wall. Those were for a Master or Mistress to rest or view their sub from a detached position during a session, or to hold that same sub during aftercare to ground them with a soothing touch. A small closet bathroom ensured that comfort breaks or hygiene needs wouldn’t disturb the flow of the scene with a trip back to the public restroom or locker area. There were erotic photographs on the wall, stark black-and-whites against dark-red paint.

The room was functional yet atmospheric in a direct, unpretentious way she liked. Thor was kneeling by the bench. He still wore his clothes, a white T-shirt and jeans. He hadn’t assumed she wanted him naked, but he had set out lubricants, restraint options and other tools to save her time. She appreciated a man who anticipated without second-guessing her. Picking up a riding crop, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Take off the shirt.”

He complied, revealing a tattoo of a mermaid in the embrace of a dragon on his back, though it looked like the mermaid had the dragon fully under her control. She traced it with the whip. “Beautiful work.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

She stepped to the wall, entered her membership number in the panel there, and called up his profile to be sure she knew everything she needed to know. “Your safe word is Zeus.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

A mythology fan, for certain. She liked him though. He was confident, strong, accepting of his craving for submission, yet he didn’t seem like the type to follow a Mistress around like a puppy, pouting if he didn’t get enough attention. She was somewhat surprised he wasn’t already taken tonight, but there were always far more unattached subs on the floor than Dommes. It was a powerful woman’s paradise, unless she was looking for something in particular. Or someone.

“Stand up. Keep your eyes down.”

When he complied, she circled him, trailing her gloved hand over his shoulders, then his chest. She wondered if she’d told him to keep his eyes down to test his manners, or if she’d known not seeing gray eyes focused on her might disrupt her concentration.

Getting into a scene was a process, requiring the right energy. She stopped herself, thinking it through. If she couldn’t give a hundred percent tonight, the best thing was to cut Thor loose with a straightforward apology, not give him half-assed attention. He deserved better than that.

Before she could make that decision, there was a light rap on the door.

Chapter Three

Her fingertips stopped on Thor’s pectoral. His back was to the door, and with him between her and the entrance, she was mostly screened by him. “Enter,” she ordered.

Max stepped inside, his attention touching on the half-naked man not more than a few feet in front of him. She shifted, met his gaze. He held on to that enigmatic expression but looked pointedly toward the wall that had the three chairs lined up along it. She nodded.

“Thor, your profile says you enjoy being watched, by men or women. A friend of mine is going to observe tonight.”

“Yes, Mistress.” When Max moved into Thor’s line of sight, Janet noted the visible hitch in her submissive’s gaze as he registered just how virile and appealing a man had joined them. Her twinge of possessive irritation surprised her, but she kept it out of her voice. She hoped.

“Eyes back down. He’s here to look at you. You don’t have my permission to look at him.”

Max’s expression, and the direction of his gaze, said he had no interest in looking at Thor at all. There was only one person in the room holding his attention. It made her far more intrigued by the scene that would play out here than she’d been a moment ago, charging the energy in the room tenfold. From the increased tension in Thor’s body, the arousal swelling against the fit of his jeans, he’d picked up on her increased response as well. He was well-tuned to a Mistress’s desires.

Max seemed capable of stoking those desires by doing nothing more than taking a seat in one of the chairs, stretching one arm out along the top of the other two. He crossed his ankle over his opposite knee, settling back.

Janet put her back to him, but she wasn’t ignoring him. Everything inside her steadied, helping her find the center that had eluded her before he’d come into the room. “Thor, remove all your clothes. Take your time with it. Make me notice your ass.”

The large man pivoted so his back was to her. As he began to unbuckle his belt, she savored the tightening of the denim over the superb buttocks before the jeans loosened and he pushed them off his hips. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, so the jeans clung to the curves. He removed them with an inadvertently sinuous effort that made her want to heat her palms against the firm flesh, score him with a sharp bite of her nails.

He’d removed his shoes, so once he got the pants to his ankles, he bent, all that muscle shifting and rippling as he pulled the legs free. His feet were far enough apart she saw the heavy weight of his testicles swinging free.

“Knuckles on the floor, head down. Eyes closed. Straighten your legs, but don’t lock your knees.”

He obeyed. Stepping up behind him, she ran her hand over his ass, and down, closing her fingers on his balls, her grip tight enough that he grunted. He more than filled her hand, suggesting the size of the erection in the front. She stroked him, letting the crop she held slide along the inside of his thigh, tease the back of his knee. When she reversed it in a deft one-handed move, she pushed against that bend in his leg with the handle, taking him down to one knee.

“Forehead to the floor, baby,” she murmured.

She sat down sidesaddle upon the arch of his back as he did that. It put him in a pose similar to Rodin’s Thinking Man. Laying the crop on her lap, she stroked his thick hair with one hand, running her gloved palm over his buttocks with the other. In this position, she could turn her head and look at Max easily, so she lifted her gaze in that direction.

The look on his face made her part her lips. His gray eyes were the color of an impending storm. She wondered if he’d even looked at the other man. Everything in his expression said he was noting every infinitesimal detail of her reaction to mastering the male sub. The concentration evident in her glittering eyes, the tension of her facial muscles. Beneath her black lace bra, her breasts were full and aching, the thong beneath her pencil skirt already wet. Delicious tingles of heat kissed her throat, her jaw line.

She wished Max was wearing jeans. They were unforgiving, such that a man had to reach into them, straighten himself when he became erect, or else he’d be bent at an impossible angle. Slacks like he was wearing now gave way before that pressure. His cock would be stretched up along his lower abdomen, below the hold of his belt. If he had been wearing jeans, would he have adjusted himself in front of her? From the riveting power of his gaze on hers, the sexual heat pumping from him, she thought he would. She had no idea what to call this, but it made her want to take Thor on the trip of his life.