Checklist J, K, L

Chapter 1

Grif propped an elbow on the bar as he studied the piece of paper. Nothing had changed since the last time he’d read the cryptic note. He passed the card to his partner perched on the bar stool beside him. She frowned at it, idly toying with her signature braid as she read the note for what had to be the tenth time.

Grif tipped his glass of scotch so the liquid within caught the light, and shoved his other hand into the pocket of the jeans that were his only attire.

Davina made a frustrated sound and dropped the paper. “I think it means exactly what it says.”

“We’d make terrible detectives.” Grif motioned for the bartender—a rope-dress wearing submissive—to bring him some water. If they were going to play, he’d limit himself to one drink.

“I don’t know. We have that whole frustrated drinking, leaning on a bar thing going.” Davina smiled and gestured at their position at the bar. “Now you say something like ‘The brass is going to have our badges but we’ll get ’em.’”

“I know something I’d like to have.” Grif wiggled his brows comically.

Davina snickered and then leaned back. She was confident and gorgeous—dark hair she always pulled back in a French braid, a classic California golden tan. She wore dark eye makeup, but her lips were bare, almost pale in contrast to her skin. He knew how to make them pink.

She held the edge of the bar so she wouldn’t tumble backwards off the stool as she tipped back. The position showed off her magnificent rack. Grif examined those sweet breasts, which were visible through the black mesh tank top she wore along with a short, tight skirt that only barely covered her ass.

The steel bars through her nipples drew attention to her tits. He knew what her breasts tasted like, knew the piercings would be warm from her body heat when he took her nipples into his mouth.

He also knew what her pussy tasted like. Knew how her ass felt in his hands, how she tensed before an orgasm, or relaxed into a good flogging.

Davina wiggled her shoulders a little, which made her breasts jiggle side to side. Given the slight hitch in her breathing, it undoubtedly stimulated her nipples when they rubbed against her mesh shirt.

Grif grabbed her braid and tugged her towards him. She leaned in greedily, and they kissed with a deep, easy passion. She tasted familiar, and yet a little mysterious.

She was his lover. His partner. And also, in many ways, a stranger.

That’s how they liked it. That’s how they’d arranged their BDSM partnership.

He broke the kiss, nipping her bottom lip before he leaned back. She stayed where she was—tilted forward, mouth slightly open, lower lip glossy and now pink from the kiss. It was unbelievably tempting. There wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t look at her and want to taste that sweet mouth, or even better, see it wrapped around his cock.

“Minx,” he murmured.

Her lips curled into a smile and she sat back, taking a small sip of the bourbon and soda she’d ordered.

They’d been at the bar for several hours at this point, puzzling over their “challenge” in this strange new game the club overseers had invented. It was only now, nearly three hours after the announcement had been made, that the bar was filling up.

“I think it’s time for me to go to the Den and check to see if they have anything in stock that would work for this.” He tapped their note.

“I’ll come with you.”

Grif shook his head. “No, I think while we do this checklist game you should sub.”

Davina’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. “Exclusively?”

“Yes.”

She looked at him, her pale gray eyes piercing. “Okay…I guess that makes sense.”

it,” he

think I

just not sure you can manage it for

her lips and then

normally how

It makes sense, and I can do it, as long as you

a power exchange. Officially they were both switches,

a sip, then slurped noisily on the large ice cube she’d taken from the glass.

way

ice cube she was holding

mouth over hers, and took the ice cube from her. The kiss

then crunched the ice cube between his

the bar. “This might

fun,”

“True.”

time to play the game and push ourselves.” He picked up the folder they’d been given when the Las Palmas Oscuras club overseers announced the checklist game

club was the Los Angeles area’s most exclusive BDSM club. Memberships were hard to come by, ridiculously expensive, and included strict secrecy agreements. Getting in meant you were wealthy, probably connected, and an experienced enough BDSM player to make

and ran the club—lately, members had been treating it more as a weekend getaway than as a venue for exploring their own sexuality. In order to address the issue, the overseers invented this checklist game everyone was

term for a recognized, permanent pairing—was assigned both a partner or partners and a letter. With

more dominant phase. When she’d decided to change it up and try submitting more, she’d asked him to top her as a

easily and naturally into being play partners. Despite her plan to make herself available as a sub, they’d ended up

a way to

They planned out scenes together, taking on whatever roles worked best

very narrow in scope,

think

quiet question made him pause in the act of pushing back from the

“What do you mean?”

we gotten

grabbed her braid and tugged it gently. “You’re

weekend you had me hanging upside down from

you managed to flip around in enough to bite me.” Grif pointed at his bare

like biting

no, I don’t think we need the game. That’s probably why we have this letter.” He

were copies of each of their checklists. He’d eagerly

Nothing.

item on the checklist that started with the

“Japanese Rope Bondage”—which he enjoyed and

A note from the overseers. The note they’d been studying for the past

* * *

the checklist for you,

Jewelry.

Master Mikel, and

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