Master M by Natalie Dae Page A

of thick chest hair peeking out, the dark hair on his head professionally cut—the insinuation that stubble wouldn’t be long in shadowing his jaw.
    He looked different to other men. Or perhaps it was the vibe he gave off. Whatever it was, I relaxed, the tension that always came with a male approach oozing away.
    It was odd to feel this way so quickly.
    “I understand,” he said, backing away a little. “A pre-arranged blind date?”
    “No, no. Nothing like that.”
    He stopped reversing then stepped closer again.
    How did I tell him I was here to be picked up without sounding as seedy as my surroundings? That I didn’t belong to anyone and at times needed the release that being a sub gave me? That it had ceased to matter who I played with, so long as they were kind. I’d accepted long ago that meeting Mr. Right wasn’t going to happen for me anytime soon.
    “Would you like to talk?” he asked.
    I blinked. That was a first. Someone who actually wanted to talk.
    I nodded, unsure what to say.
    He sat beside me, keeping a respectful distance between us, although his body heat reached me.
    “It’s lovely to finally meet you,” he said.
    I stared at him, convinced he was joking. Finally? Lovely to meet me? I was no one special, no one at all compared to every other woman around us.
    “It’s lovely to meet you too.” What else could I have said?
    “Please, may I buy you a drink while we talk?”
    He smiled, and I went with my instincts. This wasn’t a man who would do me harm. His brown eyes held sincerity, his features soft, telling me he was relaxed. A man on edge tended to have narrowed eyes and hard brackets around his mouth.
    “You may.”
    “Your name?” He tilted his head.
    “Shareena.”
    “Lovely. And I’m Mr. M—or Master M, depending on whether I’m playing. And again, it’s lovely to meet you.”
    I liked the way he’d let me know he was a Dom—confirmed it, but he needn’t have. He had an aura about him that spoke of masculinity, of command and authority. His Dom status had already screamed its presence long before he’d walked up to me. I hadn’t seen him here before, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been among the many men who prowled for subs. Our paths may just never have crossed, that was all. I could have been busy in one of the private rooms—he could have been busy.
    The thought of him with another woman gave me a slap of curiosity. What would it be like to be dominated by him? He seemed the caring sort, a man who would be attentive to a sub’s needs. None of that harsh treatment. Treatment I’d experienced a time or two.
    We stood, and he took my hand, placing my arm in the crook of his.
    “Are you comfortable with that?” he asked.
    “Yes.” The contact had me flustered, unaccustomed as I was to being handled so delicately. To having a man actually checking to see if his actions were welcome.
    He led me toward the bar. “What would you like?”
    “Water. Just fizzy water, please.”
    He ordered then let my arm go. He turned to me, propping his elbow on the bar. “You intend to play tonight, then?” He raised his eyebrows, his mouth lifting into another gentle smile.
    A gentle smile from a gentleman?
    “I’m not sure.” And I wasn’t. I’d come here to mingle with people I felt comfortable with. Perhaps playing had been in the back of my mind when I’d set off earlier—I needed some form of release so badly—but once I’d arrived and had seen how everyone here seemed different than usual—again—I’d changed my mind.
    Until I’d been approached by him.
    “I see.” He handed me a tall, slim glass of water, the bubbles popping on the surface, giving off a little spray. “Any reason why you wouldn’t?”
    It was on the tip of my tongue to say it was none of his business, but his calm expression erased my words. I found myself wanting to talk to him, to open up.
    “This place.” I shrugged. “It isn’t what it used to be.”
    “How so?” He sipped