She nodded, relief flooding her. Wes would protect her. All she had to do was rely on him to guide her through the night.
Callie followed Wes as they reached the warehouse. He opened the large wooden door to the inside of the club lobby. Craggy rock walls and sconces with warm gold lights gave the castle a medieval ambiance. There was one red-painted door at the end of the lobby, and a man in a black suit with a red armband stood by the door, checking IDs of the men and women passing into a dark interior beyond. A few people stood in a line in front of a desk where a woman in a pantsuit and black-framed glasses was checking names off a list.
Wes guided Callie straight to the desk as the last couple of people walked away.
“Evening, Aria. I’ve brought Ms. Callie Taylor. She is my submissive tonight. She’s the one I called you about.”
The woman, Aria, was a tall brunette, with powerful but lovely features. With a warm smile at Callie, she shook Wes’s offered hand.
“Ms. Taylor, welcome! It’s about time Wes collared someone.”
Callie shot a glance at Wes. He’d mentioned he would collar her, but hadn’t explained much about doing it at the club. Clearly it was a bigger deal than he’d let on if he was telling people about it.
“Hi, Aria,” Callie said, trying to remain calm, even though her entire body vibrated with nervous energy.
“Call her Mistress Aria,” Wes intoned in that dom voice of his, but he did it low enough that only she could hear.
“Mistress Aria,” she hastily corrected, then squeezed Wes’s hand.
Aria winked at Wes. “She’s cute. I like her. Much better than your previous sub.”
It took everything in Callie not to ask who that previous sub had been, but her gut told her not to.
Corrine. That venomous woman was everywhere.
“She’s all cuffed, I see,” Aria noted and gestured toward the door. “Why don’t you take her to the submissive locker room.”
“Thank you.” Wes and Callie approached the big red door and the bouncer’s eyes swept over her before he spoke to Wes.
“Have a lovely evening, Mr. Thorne.”
Wes chuckled. “I intend to.”
As they passed through into the dim club’s interior, Callie gripped his hand even harder. The massive room was dark but she could still see everything clearly. The brocaded couches, the luscious, old Victorian boudoir feel to the room. The heavy red velvet curtains with gold cords that hid smaller rooms from view in a large circle around the main room. There was a bar off to one side with two men in black leather pants and black t-shirts pouring drinks.
Couches and chairs were placed in various groupings on thick carpets. Music boomed from hidden speakers and people were lounging about, some heavily kissing, others doing a lot more than that. Callie ducked her head, completely embarrassed to see such open sexual activity.
“This way.” Wes led her to a room that had a door with a wooden sign with the words “Submissive Chambers” painted in a flowing gold script. He handed her a gold key on a red satin string.
“Go in there and open locker number eighteen. Strip down out of your clothes and put on what I left in there for you. Then come back out here. I’ll be waiting for you.” The intense look in his eyes sent little shivers of panic and excitement through her. She recognized that look, the one that scorched her like hot lust. He was fully the dominant tonight and yet it didn’t frighten her.
With a little gulp and a flutter of nerves, Callie let go of his hand and pushed the door open. The locker room was not at all what she’d expected. There were benches of dark wood and polished wooden lockers with silver numbers nailed to the front of each locker. Showers and changing rooms lined one wall. There were about ten women inside already chatting excitedly as they casually stripped out of their clothes.
“Hi!” A vivacious dark blonde-haired woman walked over to her. “You’re Callie, right?” the woman spoke as she finished fastening her garter belts to her stockings. She wore a bra and panty set that looked like it came out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog and she had a model-perfect body.
Oh boy. I can do this.
“Yeah, I’m Callie Taylor.”
The woman smiled. “I’m Katrina. I’m here with Royce tonight. He asked me to help you if you need it. I’m his sub, but he said you should stick with us if Wes has to leave you for a while. This is your first time at the club, right?”
“Yeah. This is pretty intimidating.” Her mouth was dry and she swallowed hard. It was one thing for her to be intimate with Wes in private, but maybe she really wasn’t ready to do something so public with him…
“You’ll be fine,” Katrina assured her and then introduced her to the other subs, who were all friendly. Callie wasn’t sure if she’d remember their names. Everything was overwhelming, but it was a relief to know she’d be out there with people who were nice.
“Wes said I’m supposed to use locker eighteen?” Callie glanced around at the numbers and Katrina pointed to the one she needed.
“That’s it. Let’s see what your master left you to wear. It’s lingerie night.” Katrina giggled and snapped the band of one of her garters. “Royce likes this stuff. My last master only let me wear panties, nothing else. I didn’t really like that so much. I’m glad Royce likes to leave some of my body to the imagination of the other doms.” The other subs around them chuckled.
But Callie wasn’t laughing. What if Wes hadn’t left her anything to wear?
Katrina took the key from her and opened the locker, pulling out a lacy black-and-crème-colored bra and bikini panties.
“Classy, yet sexy.” Katrina handed her the items. Callie took them, her hands shaking. She was only going to wear this? Nothing else? Her ears started to ring and she had trouble swallowing.
I can’t do this.
The idea of total strangers seeing her in this…only this? No. She wasn’t sexy like Katrina or the others. She wouldn’t look good in this, and she certainly didn’t want a bunch of intimidating, gorgeous dominants outside to see how pathetic she looked in comparison to the other women. A dumpy girl from a ranch…Yeah, she would stand out in the worst way and Wes would come to his senses and realize she wasn’t the kind of girl he would want to be with. Her stomach clenched and she swallowed down a wave of nausea.
She grabbed Katrina’s hand. “Get Wes, please. He’s outside.”
She leaned against the row of lockers, clutching the items, her legs shaking hard enough that her knees knocked together.
The door to the locker room opened and Wes strode in, Katrina on his heels.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, cupping Callie’s face the second he reached her. Concern darkened his eyes as he studied her face. She wanted to burrow into him, lose herself in his warmth and the protectiveness of his arms. In that moment she would have given anything to be back with him in Paris, just the two of them, or to be locked away with him in the black room. She liked his dark side but didn’t want to have to share herself with anyone but him.
“I can’t wear this,” she breathed, showing him the underwear. “Those other men will see me. I’m not…” She trailed off, unable to voice how she felt. He would be the gentleman and disagree with her about her body, but she knew better. She was no supermodel or wafer-thin socialite. She had curves and muscles and a tiny bit of plumpness.
He sighed heavily, disapproval layering that single utterance of her name. “Callie—”
“Please, Wes.”
As they talked, Katrina ushered the other subs out of the room, leaving them alone.
“All right. Let me go grab something else. Put these things on and I’ll bring something to put over them.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead and left.