He’d never required her to go as far as marrying a mark. But the more she learned about Sawyer Hayes, the more she realized why her father had determined she marry the man. With his high IQ and military experience, he wouldn’t fall for her usual schemes. There was only one way a man like Sawyer Hayes would marry.
Love.
And that meant she would have to find her way into his heart. Nothing in the file her father had given her would help her figure out how to accomplish that.
So she’d followed him.
She thought back to the moment she first laid eyes on him. The man oozed masculinity with every step he took and every clench of his fist as he sparred in his gym against the owner, a man who had trained for twenty years. Sawyer met him blow for blow, punch for punch. Sweat had glistened on his bare chest, his nipples hard as if he knew she watched from a distance.
He hadn’t known, of course. She blended into the woodwork. Just a plain Jane with large glasses and frumpy workout clothes. While his thighs had flexed and bulged, the muscles of his throat growing taut as though he had gotten stuck mid-swallow, she acknowledged that her mark could never fade into oblivion. Even though he’d once tried, he was back now, and that made him a target.
Her target.
Annaliese had never heard of BDSM before researching Sawyer. Sex was something she tried to avoid, and when she did it, she rarely enjoyed it. It was hard to find pleasure when you were running through who you were supposed to be and what you were supposed to do.
Orgasms required her mind to drift away, and for someone like her—a grifter—that meant losing control. Control was key to every good con, and after being in the business practically all twenty years of her life, she was as good as it got.
Once men and women trusted her, she’d turn on them and breach that trust. She didn’t know how to live any other way. It was all she had ever known.
The problem with this particular mark was that he needed control. He lived for control like she lived for a con. In order to lure this man, she had to pretend to be a submissive. Give up control to him. And from everything she’d read about it, he would know if she didn’t. At least, if he was a good Dominant. Aside from the con artists she called family, she didn’t know anyone who could read others well enough to know if they were lying.
Hell, the people she’d been with hadn’t even known she had faked her orgasms. Guys she understood, but women should know when another woman had a climax. The way the muscles tightened and shook before the spasms of release. But the women she’d slept with had been oblivious to anything other than their own pleasure.
Maybe that’s what made it so easy to take their money and run.
If she didn’t, she’d lose everyone who was left. Her mother was dead. Now she only had her father and her two brothers, Mitch and Asa. She feared if she didn’t succeed with the con, they’d leave her behind and she’d never find them again. For someone who had shuttled from place to place her whole life without being allowed to make real friends or real connections, she couldn’t risk losing her family. Even though aside from Asa, she didn’t like them very much.
Not that it mattered. She didn’t like herself much either.
When her father had told her she’d be going to some sex club in Arizona, she thought he’d lost his mind. But no, apparently sex clubs did exist outside of movies and books. So she’d read up on everything she could about domination and submission. Watched movies. Read a couple romance novels that made her wet and giggly at the same time. Saw images on the Internet that confused her, like the ones of people with bruises and red welts all over their bodies. Why did it both scare her and arouse her at the same time?
She’d studied what made a good submissive until she realized all the studying in the world wouldn’t be enough. She needed to know what her limits were before she approached Sawyer.
She’d needed to experience it.
Mistress Kay had taught her about those things that couldn’t be learned through books. For an exorbitant fee, the professional Dominatrix had not only dominated her, but for a month, had become her teacher, her psychologist, her priest, and her closest friend.
Surprisingly, that first week all they did was talk. She learned that BDSM wasn’t about sex. It was a power exchange in which the relationship between Dom and sub was one of trust, and honesty and communication were paramount. For someone like Lisa, who had spent her entire life lying, both came difficult for her.
Because of Annaliese’s past, her Domme had introduced impact play cautiously. To Annaliese’s shock, she loved the pain brought by the blow of a flogger and the whack of a cane. Craved the feel of her Mistress’s hand slapping her thigh or face. It didn’t make sense to Annaliese. How could she enjoy being hit after suffering her father’s abuse?