More than a Dare (Masters Club #4) Read Online Claire Thompson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Masters Club Series by Claire Thompson
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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“How can I help you, Dr. Pierce?” she managed with a grin, though it came out a little breathlessly.

In answer, he pushed her against the door and pressed the full length of his hard, perfect body against hers. As he kissed her, he pulled her blouse from the waist of her slacks. His mouth still on hers, he slid his hands up her torso, cupping her breasts.

When he slid his fingers into the cups of her bra, Dahlia moaned. He found her stiffening nipples and pinched them hard. She gasped against his mouth as the erotic pain shot directly to her sex, making her clit throb with need.

When he finally let her go, she sagged against the door, quivering with lust. He captured her gaze in his as he unzipped her slacks, tugged her panties aside and cupped her aching cunt. “You’re sopping wet, you dirty little slut,” he murmured as he ground his palm against her pulsing clit.

“Jesus, Hayden,” Dahlia gasped, afraid they might be interrupted at any moment. “Stop…please…ooh…”

With a chuckle, he pulled his hand away and brought his fingers to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Nectar of the gods,” he quipped, while Dahlia blushed beet red.

As she put herself back together, Hayden leaned casually against the edge of his desk, completely in control. “The real reason I asked you in here is because I totally forgot about this thing I agreed to attend tonight, and I was hoping you could go with me.”

A jolt of excitement made the hairs on the back of Dahlia’s neck stand up. Was he going to take her back to the Masters Club? Had he gotten some kind of special permission to bring a non-member? What would she wear? What if he wanted her to scene in public with him? Could she do it? Did she want to?

But when he spoke, what he actually said was, “Do you like art?”

“Huh?” Dahlia said, trying to switch gears, utterly confused.

“Sorry,” Hayden said apologetically. “I guess that must have seemed like it came out of left field. Let me be more specific. My friend Eric’s partner is having an art show at this gallery in SoHo tonight at eight.”

“On Christmas Eve?” Dahlia queried, surprised.

Hayden shrugged. “I guess it’s not that big a thing if you aren’t waiting up for Santa.” He grinned. “Anyway, I totally forgot about it until Eric texted like an hour ago to ask if I was going. I know it’s last minute, but want to go with me?”

“Sure,” Dahlia agreed. While a part of her felt let down that they weren’t returning to the Masters Club, another part breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“I was also thinking we could see if your friend, Naomi, is free,” Hayden continued. “Maybe we could meet her for a drink before we head to the gallery?”

“Hey, that’s a great idea,” Dahlia agreed. “Is Eric, uh, in the scene?”

“He sure is. Both personally and professionally. He’s a BDSM trainer who works from time to time with Masters Club submissives. His partner’s name is Rowan. She’s the artist. I’ve never seen her work, but the fact she’s having a show at Zimmer’s, a pretty high-end place, means she’s gotta be good.”

“I’ll text Naomi right now.” Dahlia pulled out her phone. While Hayden had reassured Dahlia about her choices, Naomi’s criticism still rankled. Hopefully, Hayden would be able to ease her concerns.

Naomi replied almost immediately.

Big YES to drinks. Unfortunately, I can’t attend the show – Big office party at the publishing house. Alan will be there! Maybe I’ll get something extra special in my Christmas stocking this year, ha ha. Looking forward to meeting your guy.

She looked up. “She can’t go with us to the gallery but she says yes to drinks.”

Hayden nodded. “That works.”

That evening they met Naomi at a SoHo bar only a few blocks from the art gallery. It had a cool vibe, with exposed brick, a long wooden bar and what looked like an original tin ceiling. Mercifully, it was quiet, the soft music playing in the background allowing conversation without shouting.

The place was warm, and it felt good coming in from the cold. They found a free high-top table in a corner. As the girls removed their jackets and scarves, Hayden went to the bar to get their drinks.

While he was gone, Naomi said, “Okay, I get it now. That sexy, deep voice, those impossibly blue eyes, that sun-kissed hair, the cleft chin, the easy smile, not to mention that bod! Are you sure he’s a doctor, not a model? Definitely lust at first sight.”

Dahlia laughed. “I know, right? I usually avoid dating guys that good looking, but for Hayden, I made an exception.”

He returned to them a few minutes later, their drinks balanced in his hands. He placed them carefully on the small, round table. “Here we are. White Russian for you”—he placed Naomi’s glass in front of her—“chardonnay for you”—he slid Dahlia’s wineglass to her—“and bourbon on the rocks for me.”



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