Bonds of Courage (5 page)

“Am I going to be tricked again?”

“We didn’t trick you.”

“No?” Holden didn’t care if he was challenging the man who held the key to his membership. “Then what was all of this?” He waved his arm out to encompass the room. “The whole bait-and-switch then surprise-the-unsuspecting-athlete wasn’t about being honest.”

Seth looked away. That was the first sign of weakness the man had shown, and Holden took a dose of satisfaction in that. Vanessa might be angry about being duped by him, but he’d been just as played by the two of them.

“Sorry about that,” Seth finally said. “That’s not the way entrance interviews usually go.”

Holden crossed his arms, matching Seth’s pose in a stand-off. Now that his embarrassment and desire had faded, his frustration at the entire situation spiked his anger. So yeah, he liked some domination in areas of his life, but he wasn’t a fucking pushover.

“Let’s go back to my office and finish talking there.” Seth gestured toward the door but didn’t move.

“You know, I don’t think I can trust this place anymore.” Holden shook his head, his previous desperation gone. He would push his stupid needs back, just like he’d been doing. The club had been a bad idea in the first place. This whole episode proved that.

He stepped around Seth and was in the hallway before he remembered he had no clue how to get out.
Shit
.

He’d just spotted an exit sign when Seth followed him into the hall. “I’ll show you the way out then.”

The ride down in the elevator was silent. He didn’t even look at the other man. The sooner this night was over, the better.

Seth paused when they were at the door to his office. At least Holden recognized where he was now. He pushed past the man, his freedom in sight.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk more?”

Holden hesitated. “Is there a point?” His indignation had faded to resignation during their trek from the room.

“Do you still want a membership here?”

Did he? Hell. “I don’t know.”

Seth gave a grim nod. “I understand.” He glanced down the hall then opened his office door. “Come in for a minute. I don’t like you leaving like this.”

“Look, it’s cool,” Holden said, suddenly exhausted.

“No. I don’t think it is.” Seth went into his office. “Just a minute. Please.”

It was the “please” that had Holden following the man when the exit was so close. Straight down the hall, through the door and lobby and he’d be gone, the evening forgotten. But instead, he opted to prolong the torture. Maybe he should add masochism to his list of kinks.

Seth leaned against his desk, just as Holden had done earlier that evening. It seemed like forever ago instead of... He yanked his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. Two and a half hours, that was it?

“I’m not sure what Vanessa was thinking, but it’s not my place to second-guess her,” Seth said. “Can you tell me why you came to The Den?”

Holden sighed, his shoulders dropping as he stared at the ceiling seeking strength but found only a weariness that left him drained. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he’d just finished a double overtime game.
Fuck it.
“I’m a submissive.” He looked to Seth. “Is that what you want to hear?”

Seth shrugged. “That’s a start. Now tell me why you’re here.”

“Really?” Holden glared at the man. After everything that’d gone down tonight, Seth was still pushing him. To what point? Well, fuck both of them. “Because I fucking ache to be tied down and at the mercy of a woman. I love the idea of serving a Mistress, making her happy and giving her whatever she wants. I work my ass off all the goddamn time. My life has been nothing but hockey since my dad put me in my first pair of skates when I was two. The expectations haven’t stopped since then. Be better, skate faster, play harder—don’t fucking stop.”

He sucked in a breath, his heart pounding. He blew the air out. “Sometimes, I just want to stop. Not think. Sometimes, I long to think of anything besides the demands placed on me. Sometimes, I don’t want to think at all.” He paused, the dichotomy killing him. “And at the same time, my life is built on structure and schedules. I’m so used to being told where to be and what to do that I feel lost when it’s not there.”

The burst of fire that had revived him sputtered out just as quickly. He kept his gaze on Seth though, searching for a reaction to his confession. He’d never meant to dump that out there, but God, it was a relief to voice it.

“This has been eating at you for a while then.” Seth’s statement could’ve been a question, but it wasn’t.

“I think that’s obvious.”

“It won’t go away.”

Holden gave a dry laugh. “That’s what she said. Then she walked out.”

“So go get her.”

He froze. “What?” There was a devious gleam to the smile that lit Seth’s face. Holden straightened, muscles tensing once again. The seesaw ride of emotions was damn annoying.

“I’ll grant you your membership here.” Seth moved behind his desk and flipped a manila folder open. He read something on the top document before glancing up. “But I’m betting it’s not what you really want.”

“How would you know?” Fuck. Holden didn’t even know what he wanted anymore.

“You have privacy concerns that make getting what you need hard. Vanessa can give you both. Approach her again and work something out.”

The man made it sound so logical. Easy. The thought had him chuckling. “A business deal then. Like she’d go for that.”

Seth shrugged. “A large majority of Dom/sub relations are. Contracts are there to protect both parties.”

Of course they were. But the thought of having to live up to another contract didn’t excite him at all. But then, that was probably what he’d find at The Den.
Sign on the dotted line and you belong to me—until I trade you.
Until I want someone better.
Newer.
Who doesn’t fuck up.

Holden tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I’ll think about it.” Not likely. “Thanks.” He turned to leave.

“Your membership should be processed within the week,” Seth said. “Let me know if you change your mind. You have a month to accept before the offer expires.”

Holden gave another nod before leaving the room to find his way out. He pushed past the big bouncer at the door and sucked in a lungful of fresh air. What a fucking night.

The sun had set, twilight darkening the sky and bringing the evening chill with it. He brushed his hair off his forehead and let the cool air soak into him. A couple passed him on his way to the parking lot. They were both dressed for a night at the club, their leather, spandex, harness and collar proclaiming to everyone what they were into.

He stood at his car, his gaze lingering on the pair as they talked with the bouncer before going inside. There was no way he could be that open. The chance of being seen entering the club was minimal, but the risk was there. And once inside, anyone could recognize him.

One picture was all it’d taken to almost bring down his career before. He might not be so lucky a second time.

Was it worth it?

Shaking his head, he got in his car and drove away from The Den. His answer sank through him to sap the last of his energy.

No. It wasn’t.

Chapter Five

Vanessa set her pen down before turning to her computer to glance at her calendar. Her day was packed with meetings. She also needed to contact the national papers to set up some promo pieces to offset the stupidity of one of her clients. Off-season didn’t mean off duty. Bar fights were never a good idea.

Her cell phone rang, the tinkling ringtone letting her know it was on her private phone. The three phones sat next to each other on her desk, the colored cases defining each one—work, private or club.

Her little sister’s name had her sighing. Crap. She could ignore it, but she’d have to call her back. She snatched it up, swiping her finger on the screen to answer it. “What’s up, Liv?”

“Grenick cancelled.”

“What?” Damn it. “Did he call you?”

“His girlfriend did.” The disgust came through loud and clear.

“What’d she say?” Vanessa was already clicking through the contacts on her work phone. The man had better have a good excuse for ditching his commitment.

Liv’s voice rose into a mocking tone. “He has more important things to do that weren’t my business.” She sighed. “I guess disappointing a group of kids wasn’t high on the girlfriend’s worry list.”

“Sorry, sis.” Son of a bitch. “What time was he scheduled for?” She had the information on her client calendar, which she clicked open on her computer.

“Noon to two.”

Two fucking hours. That was all he’d had to do, and the man couldn’t manage it. Grenick was a native Minnesotan and the only one of her Glaciers’s clients in town during the off-season.

“Let me make some calls and see what I can do.” She pulled up the Glaciers’s roster and contact list her freelance PR work with the team gave her access to. “Remind me what Grenick was supposed to do.”

Another heavy sigh drifted through the phone. “Just forget it. I’ll handle it.”

Vanessa hated when Liv did that. The guilt tumbled over her just like it always did when her sister used that tone. “Don’t do that.”

“What? I said don’t worry about it.”

“But you implied something else.”

“I did not,” Liv insisted, her voice indignant. “You were doing me a favor anyway. I’ll be fine. I’ll switch today’s program around. No worries. I just thought you’d want to know about your client canceling. Someone else might’ve been mad enough to leak it to the press.”

And there came another dose of guilt. Her sister was an expert at applying the layers without intention. In truth, it was Vanessa’s own need to be there for Liv that was the source of most of her angst.

“Thanks, sis.” Vanessa did a quick mental shuffle of her schedule. “Tell you what. Let me run over some promotional items to make up for Grenick cancelling. I can swing by the Glaciers’s offices and get the stuff to you before noon. How many kids do you have today?”

“You don’t have to do that.” The hope in her sister’s voice said differently.

“I want to.”

“Eighteen,” she said. The quickness of her response had Vanessa chuckling. God, she loved her sister. Liv had always had that magical way of getting exactly what she wanted without actually asking for it. “But can you round it up to twenty in case we get some unexpected drop-ins?”

“Will do.”

“Thank you, V.”

“I gotta go.”

A smacking noise came through the line. “Love you, sis.”

Vanessa sighed. “You, too.”

She ended the call and immediately picked up her work phone, the one with the black case. A quick call to Heidi, the Glaciers’s PR manager, had a promise that twenty jerseys, water bottles and stickers would be waiting for her when she got there.

She was sliding her credit card back into her wallet when Angie popped her head through the doorway. Her assistant glanced back before slipping in to close the door behind her. “A Mr. Holden Hauke from the Glaciers is here to see you.”

Great. Vanessa rubbed at her brow. She was surprised it’d taken the man two weeks to show up. Seth had shared the conversation he’d had with Hauke and she’d half expected the man to come crawling back earlier—or not at all. “Did he say what he wanted?” She knew he didn’t have an appointment.

Angie smiled. There was something secretive about the look that put Vanessa on edge. “Nope. He refused to say anything other than he needed to speak to you. I did a check of the news outlets before coming in and there’s no gossip out there about him.”

So in other words, the man wasn’t looking for help to troubleshoot his stupidity. The bit of relief that went through Vanessa had her loosening the tight hold she had on her wallet. She slipped it into her purse and glanced at Angie. “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

Vanessa leveled a look at her assistant. “Don’t give me that. You shut the door for a reason.”

Angie wiggled her brows. “He’s a cute one.”

“What the hell.” She rolled her eyes. “I thought you didn’t look at men.”

“They might not turn my crank, but I can still appreciate a good-looking one. Plus he doesn’t have that inherent arrogance that seems to seep from most of the men who come through here.”

“What do you mean?”

“For one—” Angie flicked a finger up “—he didn’t demand that he see you or even assume you’d have time for him.” She flipped up another finger. “Second, he has manners, and third, he offered to come back if now wasn’t convenient for you.” She raised her brows. “Not bad, right?”

“We’ll see.” Vanessa kept her grin to herself. “We both know how deceiving looks can be.”

Angie sighed and nodded in agreement. “So do you have time to see him, or should I make him come back?”

There wasn’t any judgment in the question. It was another one of Angie’s traits that justified her high salary and made her invaluable. She never questioned Vanessa’s actions. Well, most of the time. All good assistants weren’t inherent “yes men.” If Vanessa had wanted that, she’d have gotten herself a slave.

“Send him in.” She might as well deal with the problem now. Tackling issues head-on kept her ahead of the game. Well, except for when the problem called for a side step or a dodge. This wasn’t one of them.

Vanessa came around her desk to wait for Hauke. She smoothed her jacket down, a nice navy waist-length, and brushed her hair over her shoulder.

He stepped into her office, his size seeming to consume more space than it should. He wasn’t the largest man she’d dealt with, but there was something in his confident stance today that sucked up space. Dressed comfortably in cargo shorts and a black polo, his rugged good looks were secondary to the determination that emanated from him.

Angie closed the door, one last wiggle of her brows forcing Vanessa to bite her lip to restrain her chuckle. She couldn’t argue the fact that Holden Hauke was one enticing display of manliness. It didn’t help that she had firsthand knowledge of how nicely his hard flesh could yield under her touch.

“Vanessa.” He’d stopped just inside the door, a good ten feet away from her.

“Hauke.” It wasn’t hard to keep her voice as even and level as his. She was still annoyed at his lies and attempt to manipulate her.

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, but he didn’t show any outward signs of nerves. The silence stretched, and she held her ground. There was no way she was speaking first. The fan started up on her laptop. A pinging sound notified her of a new text message, which she left unanswered. Nope, this was his show to start. She wasn’t weakening her position by making the first move.

With a big inhale, Hauke dropped his gaze, slipped his hands from his pockets to clasp them behind his back and sunk to his knees. The flip that her heart did almost had her choking on her own spit like an inexperienced newbie.

“May I speak, Mistress?” The respect in his tone soothed over her. If this was an apology, he was starting out damn fine.

“This is where I work. It’s not The Den.” Her response was crisp. It was dangerous for both of them to be doing this here, where anyone could walk in. Yet that element of danger was enticing. Different enough to have her playing along.

“I didn’t think you’d speak to me at The Den.” He glanced up. “And it’s safer here.”

Maybe for him, but not for her. She should kick him out. Whatever he had to say obviously wasn’t work related. Yet...

The desire to see where this went overrode her better judgment. Even though she’d probably regret it, she strode to the door and flipped the lock—something she rarely did.

She made him wait until she’d returned to the spot by her desk before speaking. “So talk.”

Another inhale had his shoulders rising up and down. “I’m sorry for lying. I did it to protect myself.” He wet his lips and blew out another breath. “It wasn’t in disrespect to you. I would really like for you to be my Mistress.” The last was said in a rush that had the words blending together.

Vanessa kept herself perfectly still, her reaction withheld. There was something about having this powerful man begging at her feet. She could really have fun with him. If only... “No.”

His head jerked up, his mouth working before he dropped his gaze once again. She was still able to catch his frown though. He didn’t like her answer, but then, that wasn’t her concern.

The silence stretched again. He cleared his throat. “Can I ask why?”

“No.”

He sniffed, swallowed but didn’t break his position. “I won’t lie to you again. Or try to manipulate you.” His voice had lowered, a bit of his need coming through.

Damn it. She clamped her mouth shut to keep from speaking. Her nails dug into her triceps where she gripped them, her suit jacket protecting her flesh. It’d been a very long time since she’d had her own submissive. She took submissives for a night—that was it.

“Seth granted your membership.” She held firm. “You’ll have to find a willing Mistress there.”

He shook his head, his dark hair tossing across his forehead. “I can’t take the membership. You showed me that I can’t risk it.”

“You can wear a mask to hide your identity. A lot of members do.”

“You’re right,” he said. “But like you pointed out, it’s still public and the risk is always there. I’m almost thirty. I don’t think my career would recover if this part of my life were exposed. There are too many younger, hungry guys who could easily replace me. Ones who wouldn’t have a scandal tagged to them.”

He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know. A part of her was impressed he was using his brains. In fact, everything he’d done had been to protect himself.

“Have you had a Mistress before?”

He shook his head again.

“Then how do you know you want one?”

“How do you know you’re a Domme?” He looked up then, his gaze holding hers in a challenge for her to answer.

Damn him. “I’ve been a Domme for a long time. I also know I don’t want a submissive. I like to play, that’s it.”

“Then play with me.” The smooth, confident notes pulled at her. “I’m not asking for a contract, just someone to dominate me.”

The open longing displayed on his face seemed to reach into her to pluck away at her resistance. It would be nice to have something consistent with someone. Something to count on when everything was crazy. With him like this, it wasn’t hard to morph the picture into one where he was hard and naked, waiting for her. The thought alone had the heat simmering from her nipples to her core.

Her phone picked that moment to chime again, reminding her that she had things to do, and contemplating playing with Holden wasn’t one of them.

“Stand up.”

He responded immediately. Once again, she caught his cringe and small falter as he stood, favoring his right knee.

“Why did you kneel if it hurts you?” she snapped, stepping closer. The anger that hissed through her wasn’t justified. She had no responsibility for him, professional or personal. But he shouldn’t be kneeling if it hurt him. None of this was worth risking injury.

“It’s not that bad.” He frowned then added, “I wanted to please you.”

“Well, that doesn’t please me.”

“Really? Then tell me what will.”

Another chime had her spinning away to grab her work phone from her desk. It was an easy distraction that got her out of answering him. Because in reality, there was probably a hell of a lot he could do to please her. Too much.

The second and third chimes had come from her personal phone, so she checked that next. There were two texts from Liv, requesting that Vanessa come early and to see if she could grab some used hockey sticks from the arena. Like there were dozens of them lying around for Vanessa to claim.

She snatched up her work phone to find a text from Angie, reminding her of the meeting she’d scheduled with a news reporter in forty minutes. Shit. There was no way she’d be able to buy a bunch of hockey sticks before heading to the Glaciers’s office for the other stuff.

Looking up, she found the answer to her problems. It was like the Universe had sent him over to help her. She smiled, a slow-growing one that would’ve had any submissive she’d played with begging for mercy. Only Holden didn’t know her well enough to be wary. “You want to please me?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Zero hesitation. At some point in the past two weeks, Mr. Hauke had found his balls and decided to own them. There was something attractive in that.

“All right.” She caught his grin before she looked down to swipe through her phone in search of her sister’s work address. She wrote it down, along with the name of her contact at the Glaciers’s office. Walking around her desk, she extended the paper to Holden. “Here. My schedule’s packed today and one of my clients backed out of a commitment for me.”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter. But it can be your gain.” She waved the paper at him. “Here’s the address of the place where he was supposed to make an appearance and talk to kids about hockey. It’s at noon, but you need to stop by the Glaciers’s offices and pick up some promotional items and also go to the sporting goods store by their building and buy twenty hockey sticks, kid sizes. Charge it to my account there.”

“You have an account at a sporting goods store?” The doubt on his face was quickly wiped away at her glare.

“Of course I do. I rep athletes. You have no idea how many bribes I have to buy every year.” One of the first things she did after signing a new client was to have him autograph a few dozen jerseys, bats, balls or hockey sticks. Thankfully, she only repped hockey and baseball players. Their opposing seasons kept her schedule somewhat sane.