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Bunny and the Beast(Divine Creek Ranch 22)(21)

By:Heather Rainier


He sighed. We’ll get to the bottom of it eventually, fiammetta.

“I’ll go see about the dish,” she said as she walked steadily, if a bit slower, to his front door. Trying to be strong so he wouldn’t worry.

“Bunny.”

She turned with eyebrows raised in question, as if she hadn’t just been in terrible danger. “Hmm?”

“No more heights today, okay? I don’t think my heart can take it.”

She smiled in commiseration. “I don’t think my wobbly knees can take it either, but I do have work inside to finish. I’ll check in with you before I leave.”

“Deal. And, Bunny, just so you know, I would’ve been devastated if anything had happened to you.” Truest words I’ve ever spoken.

She chuckled softly as she turned the doorknob. “Me, too.”





Chapter Six




Joseph stood with his best friend, Randall Butler, at his side, surveying the expansive club from the slightly elevated VIP seating section. Many members of Hazelle House, exclusive private BDSM club, were present and in full play mode.

Comprised of two floors in the west wing of the mansion, the main club area was split into two parts by the large circular bar: a dance floor and socializing space and, on the far side, play space for those who wanted to make use of it. The lower floor housed the dungeon. That night, the stations were all full, as were the seating areas and the dance floor. The bartender, Cecilia, another resident Domme, was operating at full speed, filling drink orders, chatting with Doms, and keeping an eye on the subs. She’d come highly recommended by Ethan Grant and was excellent at her job.

“Mona told me she thought the girl had an effect on you, but I didn’t realize how much until I saw for myself. You can hardly take your eyes off of her.”

“I’d keep an eye on any guest who was new to the scene,” Joseph said as he watched Bunny conversing with a couple of unattached subs in one of the seating areas. He’d explained basic club etiquette when she’d arrived, but her knack for getting into mischief remained uppermost in his mind. No one was giving her a spanking but him, especially not after he’d seen her reaction to being manhandled by Conrad.

She’d showed up on his doorstep thirty minutes early, and her first question had been whether she was dressed appropriately. But she didn’t “do” submission. He couldn’t help but grin as he recalled the way she’d twirled for him in her shimmering transparent black top, buttoned up over a black camisole, and the black jeans and ballet flats. She’d pulled her hair up into a messy, but lovely, knot at the back of her head. A beautiful mess described her perfectly, all the way down to the sparkle in her artfully made up eyes.

“She’s quite…vibrant,” Randall said as he accepted a drink from one of the waitresses.

“She is,” he replied, the trace of a smile quirking his lips. “Bit of a brat.”

“Judging by what I’ve heard, that’s an understatement. You hate brats, despise having them in the club. Your exact words, if I recall correctly, were ‘if they want to submit, the brattiness is just an act, and I have to have honesty in a relationship.’”

“I still don’t care for brats. Some brats,” he added, hating that it sounded as though he was equivocating, another behavior he didn’t appreciate. “She’s forced me to question a few of my beliefs.”

“Your rules, you mean?” Randall asked, the amusement filling his voice.

“I wouldn’t have told you if I’d thought you’d get this much enjoyment from seeing me out of sorts. I recall Mona knocked you for a loop in the beginning, too.”

Randall’s eyebrows arched. “It’s that serious, huh?”

“Could be. It depends on how she handles tonight.”

“I wondered after you released your last sub, what was her name?” Randall asked, his arms crossed over his chest and a smile hidden behind his fingertips.

Joseph scoffed. “Vanessa.”

“Ah yes. I remember now. She was the paralegal from Boston. I would’ve thought she’d fit all your requirements.”

“She did.” But that hadn’t been enough to keep her there, like the others. He didn’t enjoy saying goodbye any more than the next guy.

Vanessa had been the last in a string of subs he’d spent significant time with who hadn’t worked out. She’d left to return to her hometown on the East Coast. Joseph figured that if she missed her home more than she might potentially miss him then he should let her go without argument. He’d decided after Vanessa that he just wasn’t in a season of his life where he needed a fulltime sub. The club kept him sufficiently busy.