Legally Bound (22 page)

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Pure Sin

by

Rynne Raines

Whips. Blindfolds. Restraints. And a man rumored to be the most
skilled Dom in the city...

As the BDSM instructor at the hottest fetish club in Los Angeles,
Bianca Alexander prides herself on being open, honest, and informative with her
clientele when it comes to kink. The fact that she hasn’t knelt before a master
of her own in four long years doesn’t affect her ability to teach, though a
part of her longs to be back in her Dom's arms. But when her boss hires Cade
Sinclair--her primary rival from a competing club--to assist teaching her
classes, Bianca’s comfortable solo act becomes a sinful duet drenched in Pure
Sin.

Chapter
One

Horns
blared, cabbies cursed and pedestrians kept to the sidewalk. The evening sun
sat low on the horizon, pouring long shadows over one-hundred-and-two degree
asphalt while the remainder of rush hour traffic cluttered Sunset Strip. Los
Angeles could get a bit dicey at six p.m. on a Friday night.

For
the majority, the weekend instilled a giddy sense of freedom, the promise of
rest, perhaps the opportunity to cater a backyard barbeque and tip back a few
cold ones. But not everyone fell under the nine-to-five, white-collar routine.
Not everyone was suited for working in fancy high-rises, telling jokes around
the water cooler, or car-pooling with Alice the receptionist and Richard from
accounting. Especially not Bianca Alexander.

However,
she thought as she braced her back against the BDSM training room wall and
appreciated the sight of the half-naked man kneeling in the center of the
floor, she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Ah,
yes, nothing like a hard day’s work.

Beautiful
bronzed skin stretched over John Valher’s long body of taut, corded muscle
while Vanessa Doyle, his mistress-in-training, flicked her wrist and sent the
laces of a light-weight flogger across his bare back. Bianca arched a fine
eyebrow and stifled a sigh that rose from her throat. The scent of leather and
the slap of strings on flesh had her lashes fluttering.

Memories
of the last time she’d kneeled before a master of her own drifted into her
mind. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but her recollection was fresh and,
realistically, only four years had passed. Four long years. Much too long ago.

At
least she had her job. As a BDSM instructor at Eden—the hottest fetish club in
Los Angeles—observing, listening, answering questions, and lending support was
all part of the job…as was becoming accustomed to naked bodies sprawled along
the studio floor, along with the panting, moaning—

“Ouch!
Damn it, Vanessa, you deaf? I said ‘Speed Racer!’”

And
with new clients, plenty of cursing.

“Sorry,
Johnny.” The small, busty twenty-two-year-old chomped her bubblegum like a
grazing cow, ran her fingers through her lengthy mocha curls, then stroked the
whip cradled in her left hand. “When you said ‘Speed Racer,’ I thought you
meant faster.”

Bianca
rolled her eyes, shoved off the wall, and joined the squabbling duo in the
center of the studio.

“Okay,
listen,” she started, and stepped between them when John lunged for the flog.
“This is exactly why it’s imperative to choose a safe word you can both agree
on and remember.”

“Remember?
All last night I tried to drill it into her head. What more can I do?”

“Hey,”
Vanessa whined. “If you must know, I’ve got a lot on my mind.” She surveyed her
freshly manicured nails, and tapped one red stiletto against the glossy,
black-tiled floor while her bottom lip drooped into a pout.

Disagreements
and lack of communication came standard with newcomers. As with everything in
Bianca’s life, she would take it in stride, and summon patience. By the time
John and Vanessa were through with their six weeks of classes, it would satisfy
her to have helped them understand the relationship between Domme and submissive.

“Don’t
get discouraged. This is only your second class. It takes time to learn your
partner. Just remember—communication, honesty, and trust. Those are the keys to
this lifestyle and…” Bianca trailed off as the studio door swung open.

In
the archway stood another beautiful male specimen. Her boss, Evan Chambers.

The
man was the epitome of sensuality. Since their introduction nearly three years
ago, the chemistry between them had been purely platonic. Now, she couldn’t
imagine it any other way, especially given three months ago he had tied the
knot with a lovely psychiatrist, whom he often referred to as his “kindred
spirit.” Even so, she’d have to be dead or blind not to appreciate those
brooding midnight eyes and linebacker shoulders. She indulged in a long survey
before flashing a smile.

Evan
didn’t return the smile. He crooked his finger at her, then gestured to his
office down the hall. The door of the training room closed with the click of
authority and she creased her brow.

“Excuse
me a minute.” Distracted, she started for the door, then glanced over her
shoulder. “While I’m gone, try deciding on a new safe word—one, Vanessa, that
you’ll remember.”

She
slipped out of the studio, long strides carrying her down the dark corridor.
Walls of smoked glass flanked her. Behind the transparent walls were the club’s
notorious fantasy rooms—esteemed among Eden’s voyeur clientele, tourists and
locals seeking excitement.

Halfway
down the hall, she briefly wondered if leaving a quarrelling couple in a room
full of whips, paddles, and restraints was one of her better judgment calls.
Certainly it wasn’t. But in the two years she’d worked for Eden, Evan had never
stepped in on one of her classes before and that made her uneasy.

A
few feet from the office, she pulled up short as her heart rate jumped an extra
ten beats per minute. She leaned a shoulder against the wall and gnawed a
fingernail. Maybe being half an hour late for her shift everyday was finally
catching up with her.

“You
gonna stand in the hall all day, or are you coming in?”

She
poked her head in the doorway and frowned. “How do you always know I’m there?”

Arms
cradled behind his head, he leaned back in his chair, then wiggled one finger
at her legs. “Blame the boots. They give you away every time.”

She
stemmed the urge to cross the room and wipe that cheeky grin off his face but
instead smoothed a hand lovingly over the thigh-high, shiny, three-inch latex
boots hugging her calves.

She
adored these boots.

“I’d
much rather blame the marble tile you had installed.”

“Fair
enough.” His wide grin vanished too quickly for her liking and her stomach
clenched again. “Have a seat. There’s something we need to discuss.”

Oh,
Lord, she was getting the heave-ho.

“Is
everything all right?” As composed as possible—a large feat for someone
constantly teased about wearing her emotions on her sleeve—she settled in the
chair across from him.

“I
hate to say it, but over the last few months I’ve noticed the enrollment list
for your classes getting shorter.” He reached inside one of the drawers,
retrieved a tan-colored file folder, and opened it on the desk. “Have any idea
why?”

Uncomfortable
with the question, she crossed her legs, the tight latex sheathing her thighs
squeaked as her muscles tensed. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “The couple
classes have gone down, but my general class numbers have held. Maybe the
couples of Los Angeles have decided they know all there is to know about kink.”

“You’re
exactly right.” Evan’s blue eyes lifted from the file and locked on her. “It’s
the couple classes we need improvement on.”

Improvement
on!

Don’t
make a scene, Bianca. Won’t do any good.

She
put her heart and soul into these classes, not to mention she formed an
emotional attachment to each individual couple in the process. In a world filled
with stereotypes and rigid opinions concerning the lifestyle, it was hard
enough for beginners to accept themselves entirely. She’d been there once
before, terrified and uncertain, and the only thing that had gotten her through
it was a Dom who took her under his wing and showed her the ropes.

If
anything, the reason she’d taken this job was to give back to their community
in the only way she knew how.

“I’m
not sure what I can do to improve my classes, Evan.”

“Whoa,
maybe improvement was the wrong word. You’re irreplaceable to me, B. But I’ve
heard through the grapevine that some of the female clientele don’t exactly
feel comfortable with their partners ogling you for the hour-long session
they’re paying for.”

So
now she was being crucified for the way she looked. Bianca winced. Perhaps it’d
be better if she had remained lanky-limbed and still sported a set of lips that
she hadn’t fully grown into until the age of twenty-three. Regardless, it
wasn’t her fault she had gone from ugly duckling to relatively decent
swan…excluding the long legs she realized she would never grow into.

“What
would you have me do, wear a muumuu and stick a paper bag on my head?”

“Don’t
be ridiculous.” Evan flashed his perfect white teeth and let out a chuckle. “A
muumuu would never go with those boots.”

She
narrowed her eyes and tried not to laugh. “Then what?”

“Bianca,”
he braced his forearms against the desk, “you need a man.”

Her
mouth draped open. “I don’t see how that’s—”

“Oh,
I wholeheartedly agree!”

Cringing
at the interruption, Bianca craned her neck. Caitlyn Ward Chambers lingered in
the archway, wearing a gray blazer accompanied by a matching knee-length
business skirt that hugged her womanly shape to perfection.

“I’ve
got a long list of gentlemen who’ve asked for your phone number, several times,
actually—wait, I think the list’s in my purse.” A devilish grin touched
Caitlyn’s lips.

“Hello,
Wife.” Evan’s tone dropped an octave, underlined with a tenderness that only a
deaf person wouldn’t detect.

“Hello,
Husband.”

Caitlyn
crossed the room, circled the desk, planted a long, lingering kiss to her
husband’s lips, and envy tugged at Bianca’s heartstrings.

The
Chambers were the couple everyone wanted to be—beautiful, successful and in
love. At least to any observer, that’s how it would come across. But being part
of the tight-knit community they lived in, Bianca saw far more. The bond they
shared was one between a Dom and a submissive—unbreakable. A bond she wondered
if she’d ever come close to experiencing again in her lifetime.

As
the two shared their moment, she’d have liked nothing more than to roll up the
magazine sitting on the table beside her and conk them both on the head for it.
Not too hard, just enough so they would stop and she wouldn’t feel this
emptiness gnawing at her gut.

“Sorry
for the interruption.” Caitlyn smiled when she finally came up for air. “Evan
is supposed to escort me to a conference tonight but I’m beginning to think
staying here would be much more interesting. Now, what’s this about you needing
a man?”

Bianca
stifled a groan, sank further against the padded leather chair, and tried to
wish herself out of the room. It was bad enough she’d had a total of seven
unsuccessful dates in the last four years. Worse, it seemed to be public
knowledge. “As much as I appreciate both of you being concerned about my
non-existent love life, I can find my own men, thank you very much.
Furthermore—”

“I
was referring to a second instructor,” Evan interrupted. “A male to cater to
the female clientele.”

Worse
than the two of them playing matchmaker, he wanted to hire someone to help run
her classes. Perhaps pride shouldn’t have been an issue but it was.

“From
the horrified look on her face, I’m thinking she doesn’t much like the idea,”
Caitlyn whispered.

“I—I’m
just a bit surprised, that’s all.”

“I
understand you like to fly solo. This has nothing to do with your abilities to
instruct, but I honestly believe Cade and you would achieve remarkable things
together.”

Oh,
he did not just say Cade!

Not
only was Cade Sinclair rumored to be the most deadly attractive Dom on the face
of the planet, but he’d also become her primary rival over the last six months.
Though she’d never met the man, she knew he was the sole instructor at
Halo—another fetish club in Los Angeles that began offering a similar program
when the owner realized the increased clientele it was bringing in for Eden.

Pride
aside, she’d heard he was a superb teacher. And didn’t she want what was best
for people interested in learning more about this community? But still, why did
it have to be Cade?