Independence: #2 Angel by Karen Nichols Page A

said with a little smile, twisting the cap and draining half of it. “Thank you, Sir.”
    “What did you see when you were watching people, pet?” Colin sat back in the chair next to her, his legs stretched out before him and hands tented over his waist.
    “I…” she shrugged. “People…some look like they’re off in their own little world. It’s like the rest of the room just isn’t there.”
    “Is that what you’re after?”
    “I thought I was,” she admitted, turning to watch an older couple on a leather swing. She was tied with knots all around her, her arms up and hands clinging in a pair of cuffs attached to the sides while he aroused her with his mouth on her pussy.
    “And why did you change your mind?” He followed her gaze and found himself wondering if she’d taste like sugar and spices. He could feel the tiny grains of both on her skin when he stroked her face and neck. She didn’t seem aware that she carried some of her work on her and he really liked the scents. They belonged to her.
    “Because you have to come back,” she answered instantly.
    “Back to the club?”
    “No,” she turned back to meet his gaze. “It’s like a vacation. No matter where you go or how good a time you had, you have to return. I don’t like vacations for that reason. I want to like where I am…not where I can escape to and I only just realized that.”
    “Not everyone playing does it to escape, Angel. You learn a great deal about yourself. I think you’re much stronger than you realize.” He waited until she faced him. “But you’re wearing way too many clothes.”
    That definitely had her focus, he thought, taking the plastic bottle from her and setting it on the table. He took the links between her cuffs and tugged until she stood up. Colin took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest, evaluating her appearance critically.
    “Remove the jeans,” he ordered as if he were casually telling her it would rain in the morning.
    She stared at him, looked down her legs and then back at his face. Implacable. And very serious, she realized, her fingers shaking when they reached for the brass button at her waist.
    “Each hesitation wins you a swat, Angel. If the bare ass is as fine as the jean covered one, you’ll make a nice display on one of the spanking benches,” Colin almost unfolded and reached for her when she swayed, color filling and leaving her cheeks with amazing speed.
    It’s a sex club, she kept telling herself. You should have been prepared for this . The zipper went down and she worked the jeans from her hips. With her hands buckled together, it was a challenge unto itself. She expected to find him smirking, maybe even leering when she looked up, but nothing betrayed itself in his expression but patience.
    Colin watched and waited. He had a feeling she’d never ask for help and he’d been right. With a rash of wiggling and pushing and a lot of attention drawn to the process, she managed to get the fitted jeans down her legs.
    A sigh broke free at the same time she stepped from the legs, bent over and picked them up. She folded them neatly and set them on the chair behind her with a satisfied nod. Angel looked up and swallowed hard. He didn’t look pleased. That couldn’t be good. She didn’t flinch or jerk when he reached for her hands and opened the latch in the center.
    “Now the tops.”
    Why didn’t she see that coming? Dark lashes closed as her hands went for the hems of the two tops she’d worn, pulling them over her head and busying herself with folding them so she could avoid looking at anyone, especially him. Now she knew what it felt like to be in a window of a shop. She set the tops on the jeans and stood up tall, hands clenched in front of her and only jumping a little when he reached for them and connected them once again.
    “April,” Colin raised one hand at one of the staff girls and handed them her clothing. “There’s a bin in the shelves labeled with my