Chapter 2

Emma pulled into the alley alongside the strip club. She shouldn't even be there. While she'd always been good at remaining unnoticed, she knew she had a distinctive appearance, and bouncers didn't take kindly to getting their asses kicked. If they caught sight of her, she'd probably spend the night in jail. Or worse, the hospital. Participating in a fight was one thing, being jumped by a group of musclemen, another thing entirely. But Emma was willing to risk it to see her again. Her. Whoever she was. Hell, Emma didn't even know her name.

Emma turned off the Harley's ignition, shifted the bike backward to engage the kickstand, and climbed off. Leaning against the side of the seat with her helmet on she waited outside the back exit for her beautiful demon in black leather to emerge. Emma hoped she hadn't missed the dark haired woman. Emma needed her. In a bad way. She'd wait all night if she had to. It wasn't as if she had anywhere else to be.

Over the next half hour, several people, mostly other dancers, exited the club through the back door. Emma earned a few curious glances, but no one questioned her motives.

When she finally emerged, Emma's breath caught. She wore a long, black fur coat over her leather bustier, black satin panties, and thigh-high boots. Emma suppressed a shudder of primal longing. The woman paused at the bottom of the steps and reached into her pocket, searching for something. A cigarette, perhaps?

Emma patted her pockets looking for a lighter, but the other woman pulled out a pack of gum and popped a piece in her mouth. She turned her head in Emma's direction.

Noticed her.

Emma could feel herself getting wet already. Anticipation. Every inch of her skin tingled with longing.

The other woman's full, red lips curled into a sexy smile.

Did she recognize Emma? Emma didn't know how. She still wore her helmet with its black face shield down. Maybe she smiled like that at every woman. Emma wasn't sure why that thought bothered her. She just wanted to buy the woman's services for a few hours, not make her a permanent fixture in her life. Dear God, the woman was positively luscious.

She walked toward Emma, moving gracefully, like a prowling cat. The closer she got, the harder Emma's heart thudded and the faster it raced. Emma stood straight, stepping a way from the bike.

The darker woman stopped directly in front of her. Emma could feel the other woman's body heat through her clothes. It caressed her skin. Heightened Emma's awareness of her.

Emma leaned toward her. Wanting to touch her. Taste her. Experience everything she was.

But mostly, Emma wanted her to beat the ever-loving shit out of her.

"I thought you might show up," the woman murmured. "I still owe you a dance."

In her three-inch, thigh-high boots, she stood a couple inches taller than Emma. Without them, Emma probably had an inch on her. Her height didn't bother Emma. Looking up at the other woman excited her. Her long white neck excited the blonde. The sharp angle of her jaw. Smooth cheek. Full eyelashes. Thick, black hair. The musky scent of her perfume mingled with leather and spearmint gum. The soft, husky sound of her voice. Everything about this woman excited Emma. Emma needed her. Now. It took every shred of her willpower not to drag the other woman's body against Emma's own.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

The woman lifted the visor of Emma's helmet and stared into her eyes. Her chocolate brown irises stood in shocking contrast to her jet-black hair and porcelain-white skin. "Besides the fact that you're still wearing the same clothes?"

Oh.

"It's the way you carry yourself, angel. The tension in your body. It pulsates off you. How long has it been since you've had release?"

Emma knew what she meant. She didn't mean sexual release. Emma could have that any time she wanted. She meant how long since Emma had gotten what she needed. The release she could give her. "Almost a year."

The woman pursed her lips with sympathy. "Poor baby. I'll fix it." She touched Emma's cheek. "Make it all better."

Ripples of delight snaked along the blonde's jaw, down her neck and belly. Sent a shock to her core. Emma shuddered. Reached for the dark woman. Needing it. Her.

She slapped Emma's hand away. "No."

The blonde clenched her hand into a fist and lowered it to her side. She knew the woman was a domme and used to men and women taking her orders, so Emma allowed her to retain her power. For now. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"Yeah, now. Right now."

The woman laughed. The rich, husky sound made Emma's spine tingle.

"I've got to go back to work, sugar."

Emma;s breath came out in a frustrated huff. "Then When? When?"

"Tomorrow night. Ten o'clock."

Emma's stomach tightened. She shook her head. "I can't wait that long."

The other woman's hand cupped her crotch. Her breath caught. She rubbed Emma through her pants. Not too hard. Just enough to gift the blonde with delicious agony. It hurt so good, she bit her lip to stop herself from crying out in ecstasy.

"You will wait," the darker woman said evenly. "Say it."

Emma resisted.

The woman rubbed harder. "Say it."

Emma drew the horrible, sweet pain inside, craving more of the same. She removed her hand, and Emma winced. Her stomach roiled, but she wanted more pain. Lots more. And she knew the other woman wouldn't give it to her, ever, unless Emma obeyed her. "I will wait."

She smiled and slid something into Emma's hand. A business card. "This is the address. Be on time, or I won't answer the bell."

Emma glanced down at her plain black business card. There was just enough light in the alley to make out the blood red text.

The Evil Queen

Specializing in Corporal Punishment

Corporal punishment? Lord, Emma almost came in her pants, just seeing it in print.

Emma took a steadying breath to clear her thoughts. She had other responsibilities to consider. Sinners had an important performance the next night. Would the concert be over by ten? Though they usually headlined, Sinners was opening tomorrow, so their set started earlier than usual. They should be done by nine thirty, so she'd have to hurry. "I'll be there," she said.

"I look forward to making you beg for mercy," the darker woman murmured.

"Then you'll be disappointed." Emma slid her card into her own pocket and climbed onto her bike. She turned the key, and the engine roared to life beneath her. "Until tomorrow."