VelvetWhip by VJ Summers and Sierra Summers Page A

gaze. He wasn’t sure he was ready for an exclusive Dom/sub
relationship. And Ginger wasn’t the kind of female he wanted to have a casual relationship
with.
    Performing a scene would be formal and with an audience. It
wouldn’t be just the two of them playing. He wasn’t about to tell Sin that he
couldn’t perform with her. Instead he was going to remain unemotional and
professional while they were together. That way any temptation he had where she
was concerned would be within a controlled environment.
    “She’s pretty spectacular to watch,” the other man
commented.
    “I know. I’ve seen her play before.” What a sight it was
every time he caught her subbing for anyone. She was so damn responsive to the
pleasure and pain.
    He grew hard remembering Velvet Ice’s last public play
night, when she’d been bent over a spanking bench and tied down with her
rounded ass in the air. She’d merely been paddled but her reaction had him
going. Her large mahogany eyes showed every emotion. Pleasure as well as a bit
of defiance danced in those eyes.
    He was getting the chance to know what she felt like under
his ministrations. There was no one better with a whip. It was his specialty.
One that he’d spent years perfecting.
    His excitement grew as the Dungeon Master for the night,
Mistress Ty, stepped up to introduce the scene. It was time to begin, and he
felt like a kid in a candy store.
    * * * * *
    Ginger came out of the employee changing room and up the two
flights of stairs to the third-floor play area. Her nerves were fired up and
she felt the electricity that had been building inside ever since she found out
she’d be working with Master Stephen.
    His name alone elicited a shiver along her sensitive flesh.
She ambled over to the bar and sat watching him as he discussed something with
DJ Wicked.
    Her eyes narrowed on the whip he’d clipped to his belt and
the flogger tucked through his belt loop. Damn but he was a gorgeous specimen
of a man. Not like her usual type at all. The men she usually attracted were
more of the timid types who were shocked whenever she revealed her true sexual
appetites. She didn’t even bother anymore telling the men she dated about the
acts that truly made her weak in the knees and gave her the best orgasms on the
planet. It was why she’d come to work at Club Velvet Ice. Here she could
indulge her true sexual nature without being judged for it.
    Stephen was tall, a couple inches above six feet, and was
built like a football player with wide shoulders and a tapered waist. He kept
his wavy brown hair conservatively short, and he was clean-shaven. His face was
perfectly sculpted, with cheekbones any model would kill for and a dimple in
his chin that just begged to be kissed and licked.
    He had pale-blue eyes that penetrated the deepest parts of
her. It was as if he knew what she was all about. As if he knew all her
secrets, no matter how hard she might try to hide them. No, she wouldn’t ever
be able hide anything if she belonged to him, and that scared the hell out of
her.
    You were always vulnerable as a submissive, but Ginger was
able to go to that subspace where you didn’t think, you only felt. With Master
Stephen, it was going to be different. Her emotions were already involved. It
was dangerous territory to tread. What if he felt only a minimal connection
with her? She wanted there to be more, so much so, her chest ached with it.
Hell, she didn’t understand the pull herself. It went beyond physical attraction.
It was deeper than that for her. She just flat-out craved the chance to writhe
under his whip.
    Not that the physical attraction was missing. He turned and
she zeroed in on his great ass. The leather hugged his cheeks and her fists
clenched. She wanted to squeeze the firm globes.
    She licked her lips as she caught the glint of his nipple
rings from across the room. They were the only real outward hints of his inner
kinkster. What she wouldn’t give to taste them—his hot