The door closed behind them, shutting out the noise of the bar inside Blackie’s Dominion. Brad Collins followed his buddy Marc Quinn into the packed parking lot. “I still think we can find a way to get her to go out with us, or at least one of us. It’d be a start, and we could find out if she’s open to a threesome.”

“There’s no evidence she dates at all, and there’s no way she’d date a coworker.” Marc checked his cell phone messages as he walked.

“But, fuck, she’d be such an awesome submissive.”

Marc looked at him as if he’d grown another head. “We are talking about Lori, right? Lori Meadows, Glacial Queen of the graphic media department? Dude, did somebody spike your drink? I’m surprised she hasn’t pulled out a whip at the office. She’s pure Domme, although she probably doesn’t know it. I’d love to get together with her, but we need to leave the Dom/sub stuff out of it. And I really doubt she’d be interested in a threesome.”

Brad licked his lips as he pictured Lori. Tall, curvy, one-hundred percent unadulterated woman. Her red hair, cut short in a trendy bob, had him convinced there was a fire burning inside her. She had a few years on either of them, although he wasn’t sure how many. He preferred his women experienced, grounded. And subservient. He was certain under her designer suits she wore lace and silk, and he was determined to find out. “Strong women make the best subs.”

“The most challenging, maybe, but I bet she’ll laugh you out of her cubicle if you suggest it.”

Pushing the unlock button on his keychain, Brad walked around to the driver’s door of his little red convertible while Marc got in the passenger side. As Brad reached for the handle he noticed a business card sticking up from the doorframe. Where he would normally toss aside anything left on his car as if it were email Spam, he was drawn to read this one.

1-800-DOM-help.

“Hey, get this.” He handed the card to Marc as he climbed in.

“What’s this? Phone sex? I thought that went out with the dawn of Internet video chat.”

“It sounds like a help line.” Brad pulled out into traffic on the boulevard and made his way across to the left turn lane.

“Are you saying we need help with our subs?”

“Well, we are going home before midnight on a Friday night. But I was thinking of just one sub in particular. Ms. Meadows.”

Marc’s bark of laughter filled the car, drowning out the engine’s purr. “I told you, she won’t go for anything kinky even if you got her out on a date. Her sex life is probably vanilla, with her Domme instincts struggling to break free. Be prepared to spend time on your back if you succeed in getting her into bed. And probably on your knees to get her there in the first place.” He tossed the card onto the center console.

“Don’t lose it,” Brad said. “I want to call and find out what it’s about.”

Marc listened to his friend’s plan but didn’t see it ever coming about. Brad had always been the dreamer of the two. Marc was a realist. As often as Lori showed up in his fantasies, he knew they were just that—fantasy. Three years ago, he had hired on at Miller, Grayson and Greer, where Lori and Brad worked, and he had long-range plans to remain there. Trying to get a scene going with Lori could easily fuck up his career path.

He'd been a little surprised to run into Brad at Blackie's not long after they’d met, the first time he recalled ever meeting anyone from his outside life inside the club. But members were known for their discretion, and neither man mentioned the connection. One night, at the request of another Dom, he and Brad had shared their first sub. They discovered they worked well as a team, and the resulting sex with one woman between them had been fucking over the top.

Threesomes were something he'd heard about but never imagined trying. He was very possessive, so the thought of some other guy messing with his woman was far from appealing. But something clicked when he and Brad worked together with that first sub, and the many they’d met after through Blackie’s. But they’d never met the one woman they wanted to have a relationship with, except in their fantasies about Lori.

Marc was set in his ways and saw no reason to change. But he wasn’t going to force anyone to play by his rules. As much as he’d love to explore Lori’s likes and dislikes outside the office, he knew there was nothing to gain in the long run. Mixing work and D/s pleasure was never a good idea. And as an advertising agency, Miller, Grayson and Greer was all about good ideas.

He caught up to Lori as she was getting ready to leave Tuesday night. “You’ve been quiet this week. Has Mr. Riggs been riding your ass worse than usual?”

Lori laughed. “Worse? No. He’s always been consistent in that department.”

Opening the building door, he let her pass through into the cool evening air and helped her put on her jacket. “That’s got to be hard on you. I know you take a lot of the guff for the department and it's not fair to put it all on you.”

She shrugged. “I've been in the department the longest, so I guess he's gotten used to dumping on me.”

Grinning, he grabbed her briefcase so she could dig more easily into her huge purse. “So come join us for a drink at Blackie’s.”

She stopped, peering up at him from behind her long, side-swept bangs. “I never know what to make of you, Quinn. Brad does most of the talking in planning meetings so I can’t tell when you’re joking. I really doubt the art department is getting together for drinks at a BDSM club.”

So, she knew the club. That surprised Marc. “No, not the department, just me and Brad. Come have a drink and we’ll talk about how fun it would be to put Mr. Riggs on the rack.”

Holding her keys after locating them, she looked at her car and back at Marc, as if trying to decide, then shook her head. “You’re crazy. I’m up for review next month. Do you know what being seen in a place like that would do to my chances of a promotion?”

“The members of Blackie’s are very discreet. You’d be surprised at whom you might see there.”

She bit her lip and Marc’s pulse sped. She was really considering it. He never would have guessed it might be that easy to open the door on the subject. When she shook her head again, he was more than a bit disappointed. Opening her car door, she offered him a smile. “I can’t take the chance. See you tomorrow.”

Marc drove home, heated some dinner, and was surfing through the sports channels when Brad’s name showed up on his caller ID as the phone chimed. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I called that 800 number,” Brad said. “And I asked around at Blackie’s. It appears to be a legit service offering to connect Doms and subs with screened partners, or help established couples work out problems in their lifestyles.”

“Are you going to find yourself a sub?”

“I’m going to try to find us one. Lori.”

“Good luck with that. I asked her to come to Blackie’s for a drink this evening and she said she couldn’t be seen anywhere like that.”

Brad laughed. “I should have known you’d take the direct line of approach.”

“For as much good as it did.”

“Now we’ll try my way. We don’t have to push her into the extreme fetish stuff, but I think bondage with some flogging would allow her to hit subspace. Once she did, she’d realize what she’s been missing.”

Marc listened to Brad’s plan, even if his initial idea sounded too simplistic. It couldn’t hurt to leave the card where she would find it. Her curiosity might get her to call. But Marc doubted they’d ever see her on the receiving end of a flogger.