Bonne Chance: Bourbon Street, Book 2 Read online

  Cass groaned sympathetically. “What did the bitch do this time? Shit gold bricks?”

  Chance laughed at the image. “No, that, I’d at least have enjoyed. She spent the entire time shoving her baby in everyone’s face. And bringing up the fact that I wasn’t there for the birth. And pointing out how I didn’t have any of my own yet. And isn’t little Jaden darling? Her perfect little boy.” She groaned, dropping her head in her hand. “Not that I have anything against babies. It’s not the kid’s fault. But Mom was after me twice as hard, guilting me the whole time. ‘It’s time you settled down, Cynthia.’ She refuses to call me Chance, you know. Always has. Never mind that it’s my fucking name. ‘Don’t you want a family, like your sister? Belinda is so happy.’ For the love of God. I swear, if I have to listen to how happy and perfect Belinda is one more time, I’ll go insane. Like straight up, tie-me-in-a-straightjacket-and-throw-me-in-a-padded-room insane.”

  Cassandra shook her head and laughed. “You really ought to tell them the truth, hon. Who knows, they’d probably be so shocked they’d never bring it up again.”

  Chance wrinkled her nose and swirled the wine in her glass. Truth was, she’d nearly told them so many times. “More likely, Mom would scream and wail about how I was doing the Devil’s work, Belinda would sneer and roll her eyes, confident that her place as perfect daughter was permanently assured, and Dad would have another stroke.”

  “Girl, you really have been gone too long.” Cassandra set her wineglass down and looked over to where Ellie, her collared sub, sat in formal sub pose. Ellie rose without a word, stepping up to where the blonde Domme could whisper in her ear. They exchanged a glance, and Cass gave the slightest nod in Chance’s direction. Ellie grinned.

  Chance raised an eyebrow as the sub approached her, eyes downcast but still smiling. Half Vietnamese, half Salvadorian, Ellie was easily the most gorgeous woman Chance had ever met—and working for Adrian, she’d met a lot. Her devotion to Cass was absolute, and it extended to anyone Cassandra considered close. Her Mistress’s trust, once given, was an instant key to Ellie’s affection. Chance had watched them over the years, unable to even be jealous of their relationship because it was just so right. She’d seen them go through entire days without vocalizing a single word, without the slightest need to. And while it was clear Chance wasn’t Cass, Ellie treated her both like an extension of her Mistress, and like an older sister.

  Chance wanted what they had, and badly. Especially after having to put up with her family, and proving yet again how much she didn’t belong in their boring vanilla world.

  Ellie knelt and barely glanced up, just enough to catch Chance’s eyes before flickering her dark brown gaze to the Domme’s feet. Chance smiled and nodded, moaning as the sub began to massage her instep. “Mmm. I see Ellie hasn’t lost her touch.”

  Cass laughed softly. “That would be impossible. She missed you, though. I did too.”

  Chance exhaled slowly, relaxing as Ellie’s fingers did their work. “I missed you guys. I should never have let Mom guilt me into staying as long as I did.”

  “So your father is okay?”

  She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Yeah. They sent him home from the hospital the day after I got there. He’s weaker and has to take it easy, but the man’s almost seventy, so it’s kind of a given.” Chance sighed. “Honestly, I should’ve come home ages ago. But Mom kept finding reasons I should stay, and there was my nephew to visit, and… Yeah.”

  “So what you’re saying is, you need to fuck someone in the worst way.”

  Chance laughed, opening her eyes to glance at her friend. “I do. I really do!”

  Cassandra smiled. “Sounds like soldier boy is really in for it.”

  The image of the wiry, black Marine popped in Chance’s head, making her grin. The things she could do to that boy. She licked her lips in anticipation. “Oh, Cass. He has no idea.”

  * * * * *

  Chance didn’t turn when the door opened, but waited to see what Landry would do. She’d introduced a few subs to the lifestyle and watched her mentor Tamara train several. Every single one of them reacted differently the first time. Landry, though, as she should’ve known, simply closed the door and stood without a sound.

  She let him stew for a few moments, let him watch while she straightened the toys she’d been sorting unnecessarily for the last ten minutes. As much of a relief as it was to be back doing what she loved, she felt oddly… Not nervous, really, but there was a certain level of anticipation that she hadn’t felt in a good while.

  When she finally turned to face him, he stood in a military parade-rest stance, hands behind his back, feet shoulder width apart, but his eyes burned, following her every move. Most of Adrian’s Dommes eschewed the kind of clothing people tended to expect, but Chance loved corsets and black leather, and she’d picked tonight’s outfit purposely. The short leather corset showed off the abs she worked hard to keep toned, and squeezed her breasts enough to make them feel bigger than they were, and the scarlet lacing drew the eye straight to them. The tight leather miniskirt clung to her, and the thigh-high leather boots that were her favorites always made her feel invincible. They made people look at her, and her new trainee had definitely been looking.

  “Landry.”

  “Maîtresse Chance.”

  She nodded once, rewarding him with a small smile. “The first thing I’m going to teach you are basic submissive…we’ll call them protocols.” She twirled the crop in her hand, pleased to be holding it again. It was a badge of honor for her, the crop. Adrian had given it to her with her first client, as he did all his Dominants, which made it more than a toy. Flexing the scarlet-wrapped rod between both her hands, she looked Landry over. “Your training begins the moment you enter this room. Most BDSM circles refer to them as dungeons—Adrian likes to color-code his. Mine is the Scarlet Room—I’ll get more into that later. From here on out, as soon as you enter, you will strip, unless commanded otherwise. You will not speak until spoken to.” She stepped forward as she spoke, until she was close enough to rest the tip of her crop under his chin. “And your eyes will stay on the floor. Say ‘Yes, Mistress’.”

  Landry immediately lowered his eyes. “Yes, Mistress.”

  She dropped the point of her crop and stepped back. “Clothes off.”

  He complied without a word, pulling his shirt off in a single fluid motion while also toeing off his boots. It was actually impressive to watch, and Chance wondered how much was due to his military career. In short order, Landry stood facing her again, eyes downcast, and holding his boots with his neatly folded clothing stacked atop them. Chance grinned openly. Training this man was going to be a treat, if this was any indication.

  She pointed with her crop to a chair behind him. “You may set them there.” He complied, then turned back to stand in parade rest. Next, she gestured to a tape X she’d put in the center of the floor. “The fact that you default to military poses—attention and parade rest—is excellent. However, during training, once you have removed your clothing, you will kneel on that X, in the position I’m about to teach you.”

  Chance pointed, and Landry moved to kneel. She had to resist the urge to grin ear to ear. He was a delight at following orders, and she wondered how Lacroix had let him go so long without a proper introduction to their lifestyle.

  “This pose is called display, and is a standard submissive position. Kneel with your legs wide apart, as far as is comfortable, butt on your feet. Place your hands on your thighs, palms up and relaxed. Your back should be straight, eyes on the floor. Very good,” she added, as Landry settled into the pose as naturally as if he’d been born sitting that way. His back was stiff and straight, every bit as rigid as his cock, which was shown off to advantage by his new position, and stood straining upright. Chance suppressed the urge to lick her lips at his size. And at the rest of him. His body was all wiry muscle, the kind that
came from a life of hard work, and while his dark skin wasn’t completely covered in tattoos, he did have several, including the requisite eagle, globe and anchor on his back shoulder.

  Good. He won’t object to the membership tattoo.

  She admired his body for a moment longer, then continued. “There is a second version of this pose, where the hands are clasped behind the neck, but I believe most of us in Adrian’s circle prefer this one. Are you comfortable?”

  He answered without looking up. “I am, Mistress.”

  God, he was too perfect. “Good. Look at me, Landry.” He looked up, meeting her eyes as she sat on a nearby chair. “Being a submissive is as much about you as it is about whatever Dominant you’re with. Discomfort that you enjoy is welcome. Discomfort that harms you is not. I assume either Faye or Adrian taught you about safe words?”

  “Yes, Mistress. Mine is bulldog.”

  “Do you have a caution word? Something to signal you aren’t comfortable with what what’s happening, but you still want to continue with the scene?”

  “Kulev, Mistress.”

  Chance raised an eyebrow. “Kulev? May I ask what that means?”

  “A kulev is a serpent. Serpents are worshiped in voodoo, several of them as gods. Damballah, the sky serpent loa, his wife Ayida Wedo, the rainbow serpent.”

  Chance’s other eyebrow lifted. “You follow voodoo, Sergeant?”

  He shrugged. “Mamere, she a mambo. I don’t follow the way I should. It’s hard, with the Corps, being away so much. But she and my Vieux, they raised me, so voodoo is a part of me.”

  She nodded, twirling the crop in her hand again, and settling back in her chair. “I’d like to hear more about it sometime. Now, as I was saying, this is as much about you as it is the Dominant. I’m going to assign you some reading to do, that Lacroix has put together for the club. Some of it is on SSC and RACK—that’s safe, sane and consensual and risk-aware consensual kink. It will also include a very comprehensive questionnaire.” She laughed at the unspoken query in his eyes. “About your preferences. There will probably be a number of things you don’t recognize or understand. Make note of anything that confuses you. We’ll discuss it at the next session.”

  Chance crossed her legs and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Scheduling. Are you free at this time every night?”

  Landry shook his head. “Most nights, yes, but there are some nights I’m on duty at the base.”

  “I imagine those are scheduled out?” He nodded. “Good. Get me a list of those nights for the rest of the month. Any other night, I expect you here.”

  He opened his mouth, hesitating a moment, until Chance nodded. “Sunday nights are Mamere’s. She won’t hold with me missing, not now I’m back in Vieux Carré.”

  Chance nodded once. “Fair enough. I have no problem with that. Anything else?” He shook his head no, and she continued. “Now. The BDSM lifestyle isn’t only about sex, as you may have noticed. It goes deeper than that. That said, sex can be a huge part of it. And judging from the state you’re in, you’re turned on just being here.”

  The muscles in Landry’s jaw twitched, and Chance laughed.

  “You’re clean? Recently tested?”

  He nodded. “Yes’m. Always been careful, but made sure to get a new test every time I was back in port. Maître Lacroix insisted.”

  She nodded. “Good. You like following orders, Adrian said. Here’s one you’re going to carry out of here. Your pleasure, your pain and especially your dick, they belong to me now, for as long as I’m your training Domme. You will not touch yourself in a sexual manner, you will not jack off, you will not ejaculate or orgasm without my permission. Am I clear?”

  Landry swallowed tightly, and when he answered, his voice was suddenly strained. “Oui, Maîtresse.”

  Chance grinned, turning around to get the reading she’d promised him. His eyebrows twitched as she handed the stack of papers to him. “Get dressed. Go home. Take a cold shower. I’ll see you back here tomorrow night. And if you’re good…” she nodded at his erection, “…maybe we’ll take care of that.”

  * * * * *

  Chance shut the door to her apartment and leaned against it, dropping her keys on the side table. The low, reedy sound of a lone saxophone stole in from outside, and she smiled. It was good to be home, good to be where she belonged, doing what she loved doing. She loved her family, but a month surrounded by them was about a month too long. And her new trainee had been such a delight. Officially, her training him didn’t necessarily include sex. However. She was pretty sure he’d be up for it, if his performance tonight had been any indication.

  She unzipped her thigh-high boots and slipped them off before walking over to the window, humming along with the sax’s tune. Once the window was open, letting in the music and the smell of spices and jasmine, she headed to her room to change. Her phone chirped as she walked in. Chance pulled it out of her purse and grinned at Adrian’s message.

  How did our soldier do on his first night?

  Chance grinned and typed her reply. Perfect. He was fucking perfect.

  Her phone went off again, this time lighting up to the tune of Louis Armstrong’s “La Vie en Rose”, and Chance swiped the screen without really looking. “I got your text. I’m going to enjoy this one—”

  “Cynthia? Honey?”

  Chance swore under her breath. “Mom? Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

  “I don’t understand how, doesn’t my name come up on the screen? Really, Cynthia. You should pay more attention.”

  Chance pinched her nose and sat down on the bed. “What did you need, Mom?” She pulled the phone away quickly, glancing at the time. “And why are you calling so late?”

  “Your father has decided to actually take Dr. Kevlin’s advice and go on a vacation. Since we’ve never been to New Orleans, we’ve decided to come visit you.”

  The phone slid out of her hand, hitting the floor with a resounding crack. Chance winced and scrambled after it, swearing as she stared at the shattered screen.

  “Cynthia? Cynthia!”

  “Shit.” She lifted the phone back to her ear. “Sorry, Mom, the phone slipped. Did you say you were coming here?” Please say no, please say no…

  “Yes, I did. Belinda’s coming too. She needs to get out now that Jaden is old enough, so we thought it would be nice for all of us to come see you.”

  Fuck. Chance took a deep breath. “That’s great, Mom. When were you thinking of coming?”

  “We’ll be there next week. And don’t worry, we’ve got a hotel reserved.”

  Oh, fuck no. “That’s…that’s really soon, Mom. Isn’t that kind of soon? I mean, I’ve barely been back a week, and Dad did have a stroke last month…”

  “Dr. Kevlin fully approves, don’t worry. I doubt your father will do more than fish while we’re there. But it’s high time we came for a visit.”

  The implication that it was somehow her fault for never inviting them wasn’t lost on Chance, but she chose to ignore it. She had other, more immediate concerns.

  Like her job.

  “And of course we’ll want to meet that boyfriend of yours.”

  Chance nearly dropped the phone again. Fuck. “Of course. He’ll be so excited to meet you.”

  Her mother chattered on about details Chance couldn’t care less about, while her brain went into panic mode. She barely managed to end the conversation, muttering her goodbyes by rote when her mother finally stopped.

  Of course we’ll want to meet that boyfriend of yours.

  Chance fell back on her bed with a muffled scream. Of course she would remember that ridiculous lie, an offhand comment she’d made to Belinda in a moment of annoyance.

  You could tell them the truth.

  Yeah, right.

  The truth, in this case, would definitely not set her free.
>
  Chapter Three

  Chance sipped at her coffee and fiddled with her new phone. She’d woken that morning hoping the conversation with her mother had really been a nightmare, but the shattered screen on her phone had been proof enough the conversation was real. At least something good had come out of it—dropping her phone had given her the perfect excuse to upgrade it.

  “Oh look who joined the twenty-first century.” Cassandra sat at the café table opposite her, setting her own cup of coffee down. “What did you do, break the old one over someone’s head?”

  Chance rolled her eyes. “Oh shut up, it wasn’t that old. But that, at least, would’ve been fun. I dropped it last night while talking to Mom.”

  “What did she say?”

  Putting down the phone, Chance scowled. “She called to announce that they’re coming to visit.”

  Cass blinked. “Wait. Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you just visiting them for the last month?”

  “I know! Believe me, I know.” She dropped her head in her hands and screamed. “It’s so unfair! I wanted to get back to my life. I’m going to have a hell of a time dancing around them while taking clients. And that’s not even the worst part.”

  Cass lifted an eyebrow and took a drink. “Do I even want to know?”

  “No.” Chance groaned and rested her head on the table, staring through the wrought iron mesh to the sidewalk below.

  “What did you do?”

  Chance’s head came up. “It wasn’t my fault! Bels wouldn’t shut up, and Mom was making it even worse, and I really wanted to rub their faces in something, anything—”

  “Chance…”

  “You don’t even know how bad it was. I love my life here, but there’s no way in hell they’ll approve of me being a Pro-Domme. And for once I wanted them to actually approve—”

  “Chance!”

  She stopped and looked at Cass, who stared back with an exasperated expression.

  “What did you say?”