Sandra took Bella to the bartender to get drinks before the went down to where the main events is taking place but even their row was starting to fill out. Bella quickly realized that if the present turnout was a good representation, Sandra was probably the youngest Red Club Member.
A few minutes later, the crowd began to buzz restlessly. She looked at her phone and saw that it had just turned eleven. The competition would doubtlessly be starting soon. Some particularly good-looking men began to stand up and head toward the stairway that led up to the stage and behind a heavy blue curtain. She recognized a handful of them from campus.
One of the girls in their row stood up, his collar still attached to a leash held by the broad man behind her. Her light brown hair partially covered her otherwise bare chest, accentuating her delicate build.
"Are you going to be a good girl, Amber?" the burly man at het side demanded.
"Yes, Master," the younger woman purred, leaning down for a kiss.
"Good," the other man said, unclipping the leash from her collar so his submissive could trot off to join the others.
"Alright everyone, may I have your attention?" A familiar British accent rang out through the open dance floor. Clara took the stage, her prim and proper blue dress looking out of place in the crowd of mesh and leather.
"Get off the stage, bitch, we want the Wolves," a lone dissenter bellowed from the back of the room.
Clara looked hurt. "I'm only here to facilitate the contest so everything can go as smoothly as possible. I'm still missing several entrants backstage," she explained.
The fact that anyone could be so rude to someone just trying to do their job was awful, Bella thought.
The deed didn't go unpunished for long. Before Clara had finished speaking, two huge men came from the back of the room and descended upon the heckler with intimidating speed. Darian was one of them. The other was significantly smaller, but still a force to be reckoned with. They both looked furious as they dragged the man away kicking and complaining out of the club.
A nonplussed Clara continued, "I need to have Joyce Connors, Lou Johnson and Susan Baxter come backstage for registration and prep." She turned the page on the clipboard she held. "I also need Henry county, Chris Logan and..." She did a double take, squinting at the list. "Bellas Starr?”
Bella's head snapped up at the sound of her own name. There was no way anyone else had the same name, that much was certain. Her stomach sank as realization set in and she turned to Sandra to see what she had to say for his treachery.
"It wasn't me," she mouthed. Bella wouldn't have believed her, but her pupils were so wide she could barely see the slivers of blue around them. She was every bit as shocked as Bella was.
Bella said nothing as she tried to figure out what to do. The other stragglers were filing backstage. She started to panic when she saw Clara flipping back through her clipboard.
"What do I do?" Bella hissed, still angry at Sandra even if she couldn't pin anything on het in the moment.
"I don't know," she replied, glancing around. "You have to go backstage and explain the situation."
"Me? You're the one who got me into this," Bella reminded het.
"Bella Starr,” Clara called, her eyes locking on Bella. Of course she remembered her. She had to have seen at least two-hundred people that night, but she remembered Bella's weird name.
Bella stood up hesitantly. She seemed to show no signs of backing down from her task, and she didn't want to make Clara's night any worse. "You're coming with me," she whispered, grabbing Sandra's hand and pulling her with her.
"Alright then," Clara said in a newly chipper tone. "It looks like we have all the contestants. I suggest you folks grab some drinks at the bar, enjoy the music and prepare for the show. Also, do take note of the emergency exits at the far end of the club and by the entrance."
Once Bella and Sandra were too close to the stairs for her to run, Bella let go of her arm. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Darian wasn't the one guarding the stairs that led backstage. In his place was the other man who had dragged the heckler offstage. He wore a similar uniform of jeans and a black T-shirt, but he was blond and wore a leather jacket. He looked like he could have stepped off the screen of a James Dean film with his light hair slicked back in a perfect coiffure.
"A little late to the show, huh, kid?" he asked without smiling.
Bella pulled Sandra to her side. "Tell him what you did."
Sandra groaned. "Yeah, uh, Clarence, I don't know what happened but my friend wasn't supposed to be entered in the contest. There's been a mistake, so if we could just go backstage and talk to—”
Clarence cut him off with a dismissive laugh. "No way, no one besides the contestants gets backstage. Not even you, Sandra," he said, ushering Bella up the stairs before she could even argue. "You can pick your girl toy up after the show, we gotta get this thing movin'."
"Huh? No, you don't understand," Bella protested, tripping her way up the stairs. Girl toy? She had always felt like a doormat around Jeff, but not such an obvious one.
"Oh, I understand perfectly," Clarence said, pushing her up the last step and behind the curtain. She cast one last forlorn but also infuriated glance back at Sandra and saw her shrug helplessly before they disappeared down a hall. "You subs think the world is gonna end if you're away from your precious Masters for one second. Well, there's a reason we don't let them backstage anymore. Doms are like stage moms on crack."
“Sandra's not my Dom," Bella grumbled. "And I'm not a sub. I'm not part of this whole BDSM thing, that's what I'm trying to tell you."
He looked her up and down with refreshing disinterest. "You're sure dressed for the part," he said. His hand was still on her back as they approached a room she was sure was the source of the growing chatter.
"I'm just here for my friend," Bella said. "For whatever reason she decided to sign me up for this thing, but I didn't give permission."
"Well, that's a bummer and I'd punch her in the face if I were you," he said, pushing me into a room of the no less than two dozen girls and some guys who had gone up onstage. "Unfortunately, it's really not my problem. Getting you in here was. Bye," he added, pulling the door shut behind him.
Bella was shocked by Clarence's rudeness. Who did he think he was? The subs in the dressing room were clearly unhappy with her presence, and she felt like an unwanted center of attention. She sat down, feeling out of place, and Amber, the collared sub next to her, tried to reassure her that the obnoxious ones were just trying to run off the real competition. He also revealed that the House of Wolf was serious business around here and that the Alpha ran the entire club. Bella groaned, admitting that she didn't know anything about the scene and that she wasn't even a sub. Amber told her it was more about energy than looks and that she had the energy, making her feel a little better. "At least you're honest." Bella smiled, holding out her hand. "I'm Bella." "Amber," she replied, shaking it. "And don't worry. People can say whatever they want, but you're not actually anyone's submissive until you decide to be." She tilted his head. "What's that on your hand?
"Are you alright? That was almost bad," he said with what seemed to be genuine concern. If it had been anyone else, Bella would have already been thanking them profusely. Since it was Darian she was a bit wary of his intentions, to say the least. "I'm fine. Thanks for your help, but I could really do without any more of it," Bella muttered, brushing past him. "Wait a second," he said, grabbing the chain dangling from her cuff and jerking it like a leash. The snaps on the cuff popped off, leaving her arm exposed. Bella whirled around and held her forearm to her chest. "Give me that!" she cried fearfully, reaching for the cuff. Darian held it out of her reach and in doing so, pulled her closer. "What the hell was that about?" "I need that," Bella said, grabbing at it while keeping her arm close to her chest. "Not until you tell me why I'm getting the cold shoulder. Usually, you'd at least give a guy the chance to break the ice before t
Bella swallowed hard as she struggled to maintain eye contact with the furious Wolf. As difficult as it was, she couldn’t break away. Something in his gaze held her fast in its grasp. It was an eerily familiar feeling that she had experienced only once before when her first-year psychology professor invited a hypnotherapist to demonstrate trance induction for the class. She became lightheaded again, but she knew that Darian wouldn’t be there to catch her this time if she fell. As if summoned by her thoughts, the hulking Wolf took the last empty seat, rounding out a full pack of six. Even sitting down, the size difference between him and the others was obvious. The difference was especially noticeable between Darian and the lithe man next to him, who was still watching her like she was a sheep on the horizon and he was an actual wolf who hadn’t eaten in a few weeks. She recognized him as the book Wolf from the lobby when she first entered. Bell
Bella had already started to clap for Maverick when he announced her name. Her smile turned into a stiff grimace, and her hands hung limp in mid-air. “What?” she choked out. The announcer came back over to her, holding a coiled leash and collar on a satin pillow. The collar was made of red leather with what she really hoped were just very convincing rhinestones rather than diamonds encrusted along one side. This couldn’t be happening. Bella leaned away in case he planned to put that thing on her, still convinced there was a mistake. Unfortunately, the panic-induced bout of nausea and vertigo she’d been fighting off all night kicked in, and she wobbled. “Whoa, easy there. Can I get a Wolf to come up here and leash this pup before she falls offstage?” the announcer laughed awkwardly. Clearly, this evening wasn’t going according to plan for him, either. Bella’s panic wasn’t helped by the fact that Darian and the Wolf who had been glaring at her st
It was Bella’s turn to frown in confusion. “What are you talking about?” she asked. Victor cleared his throat, and Darian went silent for a moment. “Never mind,” Darian said in a tone of resignation. “I’m gonna get you something to eat.” “What?” Bella asked. “Why?” “For your blood sugar. That’s like diabetes, right? You need to eat something so you won’t pass out again.” She hesitated. Bella hadn’t eaten lunch that day, mistakenly assuming they would be serving food at the club, and she had been too nervous to keep anything down after throwing up in front of Sandra anyway. “That would be nice, I guess. Thanks.” At least if Darian was this worried about her, as misplaced as his concern was, he probably wasn’t going to kill her. Victor, on the other hand… Darian disappeared, and Bella was left alone with him. She brought her knees to her chest and tried not to look at him for fear that the stran
The door swung open and Clara appeared, Darian’s hand on her back as he all but pushed her into the room. “She face is hot and she went all swoony onstage,” the Wolf announced. Clara gave Bella a perplexed look and set a black bag on the table where her scotch rested. “Thank you, Darian. I’ll take it from here.” Her gaze traveled disapprovingly between her and the glass, but she said nothing of it. “Hi again, Starr. I hear you’re not feeling well?” Bella reiterated for what felt like the hundredth time that night, “I’m anemic and I have low blood sugar. I just got a little sick on the pedestal with the bright lights, but I’m fine now.” “Oh shit, I forgot the food,” Darian exclaimed, rushing towards the door. “I had it, then I saw her and—shit, I’ll be right back, don’t faint.” He pointed at Bella, as if she had any control over that. Clara rolled her eyes. “Now that the mother hen is gone, let’s take a look at you,” she said, retrieving a smal
“How did you know my phone was dead?” “Because I can see it in your pocket and it stands to reason that’s why you haven’t called your friend,” he replied. Bella touched the rectangular outline in her back pocket, feeling embarrassed. “Oh. Thanks. She’s probably in bed anyway, but I’ll send her a text.” “Think nothing of it,” he said, walking to the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you,Bella.” He stopped, looking back at Darian as he raised his already half-empty glass. “Take care of this one, brother. She’s special.” Bella was left to wonder what that meant, but a glance at Darian revealed that he was just as confused as she was. “Night, Vic,” he muttered before turning back to her. His brow furrowed in disapproval. “You didn’t eat your food.” She glanced at the partially eaten banana and the untouched granola bar. She picked up the latter and held it up for his approval. “I’ll eat this in the room, since you’ve decided to appoint yourself my perso
As soon as Bella slipped the T-shirt over her head, she realized it had been worn. His scent was powerful but not at all unpleasant. She rolled her eyes at what was either an attempt at psychological manipulation or just the product of a messy room. The shirt hung off her like a hanger and hit her mid-thigh. A glance in Victor’s mirror revealed that she looked like one of the after photos on Internet ads for diet products. She returned to the bed and hesitated in her decision to peel back the royal blue covers. There were lighter blue leaf patterns stitched onto the fabric in gilded thread. The bed was made so meticulously that it seemed like a shame to muss it up. She finally gave in and slipped in between the silky smooth cotton sheets that were paradoxically cool and warm. They felt fresh, but a different scent greeted her when she turned her head into the pillow. It was subtler than Darian’s, but still intoxicatingly masculine. As she