Naked & Unleashed Read Online Free Page B

said. He unclipped the rope and waved her toward the door.
    Behind her, Marki started cajoling the staff member. Callista pushed everything besides her goal out of her mind. Less than a minute later, she passed through a metal detector and into the dark, blue-lit club.
    A petite redhead in a short black skirt and a trim black t-shirt printed with Bondage’s unmistakable logo stopped her just past the metal detector. Here, the club’s trance music didn’t reach full volume. Callista easily heard the woman’s one-word request of, “Card?”
    Her stomach fluttered with a sudden burst of nervous energy. She made herself relinquish the piece of paper but there was no ignoring her anxiety. Now a complete stranger had knowledge of one of her darkest desires. But that was part of the appeal of a club like Bondage—and it was Callista’s purpose in seeking out admission tonight.
    The redhead glanced at the single word printed neatly on the square, then said, “Wait here.”
    While the other woman headed off into the dark, Callista devoted her attention to calming her stomach. Through a series of steady, deep breaths, she blanked her mind and filled her head with the panorama of writhing dancers visible from where she stood. Bondage wasn’t particularly well-known for its dancing but from what she could see, the facility was not lacking in space or a crowd. A large, busy bar sat off to the right of the dance floor and even from her vantage, she could see doorways leading to other rooms on the main level. Those rooms, and their exclusive counterparts on the second floor, were what Bondage was known for: an active and imaginative semi-public dungeon.
    Callista swayed toward the seductive energy flowing from the heart of the club. Her butterflies made way for impatience, which had her tapping her fingertips on her upper arm by the time the redhead returned.
    “Sorry about the wait,” the other woman said conversationally. “Non-members have to be matched with handlers, which is why so few people are admitted even on open play nights. You’re all set now though, so you can follow me.”
    But the redhead set off for the dance floor. Callista raised an eyebrow but fell into step behind her guide. Personalized tours weren’t part of the package in her other club experiences. She wanted to balk at the guide and be left alone to mingle, but quickly realized she was in over her head as a woman alone in a crowd of people bound to one another by cuffs and leashes.
    Her escort moved quickly. Soon they were mounting the stairs and climbing to the second floor. Callista tried to catch the other woman’s attention over the volume of the music and the disorientating light show but she had no success. A moment later, the club employee waved Callista into a small room, handed her a small square envelope and said, “Have fun.”
    She closed the door and left Callista alone in a room furnished with a large bed, a straight-backed chair, a lamp and a cabinet. The anxious butterflies returned and brought friends in the form of a hot, nervous pulse between her legs. Callista blew out a pent-up breath and placed her clutch handbag on top of the cabinet. A variety of instruments hung from hooks placed in the wall on the other side of the bed. None of them had sharp edges, a fact that both relieved and disappointed her.
    Too unsettled to sit, she opened the envelope and stared at the imperative written in bold, heavy block letters. One sentence— Take off your clothes .
    “Don’t think,” she said out loud before her self-preservation instinct could kick in.
    Leaving her shoes on because they made her focus on balance instead of all the reasons this was a bad idea, she set herself to the task of undressing. Her temperature should have cooled when she lowered the zipper of her dress. Instead, it surged. By the time she shimmied out of the sheath, she felt feverish. Her skin tingled and tightened over her flesh as if recoiling from the razor edge