Below Deck Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Below Deck

  Anchored

  Sophie Stern

  Copyright © 2017 by Sophie Stern

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For my readers

  Thank you for the reviews, the emails, and the Facebook messages!

  You mean the world to me.

  The new guy at Anchored is tall, dark, and handsome. He's funny and quirky and interesting. He's also not who he says he is.

  And June isn't so naive that she can't tell.

  Why is Ryder lying about who he is?

  What's his real reason for coming to Anchored?

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Crossing the Line

  Author

  The Saucy Devil

  Prologue

  1

  Chapter 1

  June

  “Rum and coke.”

  He smiles at me when he says it, and I don’t miss the way his gaze drifts down my body. His eyes linger on my cleavage on their journey back up to my face, and when his gaze finally meets mine, he doesn’t look ashamed or embarrassed.

  He just winks.

  “Coming right up,” I say, and I turn to grab the rum.

  This guy doesn’t know who I am. A lot of them don’t, and why would they? I have completely streamlined the application process when it comes to visiting Anchored. Potential members have to go through an interview, undergo a psych eval, and even have a medical check-up to ensure they’re STD-free before they’re able to play.

  Meeting me, though?

  That rarely happens.

  I have a couple of trusted Doms I use to interview people. Sometimes Jaxson helps me. Sometimes Anthony does. Every once in awhile, I’ll interview someone myself, but that’s rare. Usually, I like to keep my distance, at least when it comes to interacting with the members.

  I finish the man’s drink and hand it over. He hands me a couple of dollars.

  “You don’t want to put this on your membership card?”

  “Nah,” he shakes his head, and I roll my eyes. I’m not sure what I was thinking letting Timothy Markena into my club. He’s a little bit awkward and a little bit weird, and little less like a Dom than I think he should be, but he passed all of the prerequisite interviews and evaluations with flying colors.

  Maybe I’m just overreacting.

  “Can I get you anything else?” I ask.

  “I’m fine,” he says, turning, obviously dismissing me.

  Whatever.

  I’m not about to get my heart broken over the fact that some wannabe Dom in my club doesn’t think I’m the shit. I move along the bar, checking on my other patrons, dancing a little to the music pounding through the speakers.

  Anchored is where I feel most at home.

  It’s a funny thing, really. Here I am, an average businesswoman, and I’m having the best time of my life in this place. I’ve met some incredible friends and witnessed some book-worthy romances. It’s incredible, really. It’s fantastic.

  But sometimes I still feel lonely.

  Sometimes, even surrounded by all of these people, I still want something more.

  I just don’t know what it is.

  All eyes in the club are focused on the main stage. Each night the club is open, I try to have something scheduled. Sometimes there will be several small performances and sometimes it’ll be a free-for-all with anyone playing who wants to, but lately, I’ve been scheduling at least one big demo or performance per night.

  Tonight’s performance features role playing with two naughty schoolgirls and their very cross professor. Right now, he’s got the girls on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. What’s he going to do next? Anything could happen.

  Nope, I shake my head, smiling silently to myself.

  It’s blowjob time.

  Sure enough, as the crowd watches in almost complete silence, the girls undo Professor Sexy’s pants with their mouths and begin to lick and suck on him. Everyone seems completely entranced by this performance, which is good.

  It means I can relax for a couple of minutes, so I grab my stool and move into the corner behind the bar, and I sit.

  And I dare to close my eyes.

  The last few weeks have been exhausting. Ever since Grammy passed away, I haven’t been myself. I don’t even really have an excuse as to why. I knew she was sick. I knew it was coming. Still, losing one of my favorite people in the entire world was really hard for me.

  It was devastating, if I’m being honest.

  Even now, weeks after it happened, I’m at a loss for words. I feel sad and alone almost all of the time. I feel scared. I miss her so much more than I thought I would, and it doesn’t make any sense.

  This is what people do, after all. Right? They get old and die. It’s just part of life. It’s the natural order of things, but it completely sucks, and even watching the professor and his pets isn’t enough to get me out of my own head.

  I need a drink is what I fucking need.

  When I open my eyes a few minutes later, Ryder is sitting at the bar, and he’s watching me. I practically jump out of my skin. I didn’t even hear him come over.

  “Sorry,” I squeak, hopping to my feet. “I didn’t realize you were here, hon. What can I get for you?”

  “Hon?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “I’m not calling you ‘sir,’” I wink, smiling at him.

  Ryder makes me nervous in many different ways: ways I can’t explain, even if I wanted to. When I first met him, I knew he wasn’t exactly who he seemed. It’s been months, though, and I still can’t pinpoint exactly why he’s here. He plays with people sometimes, but he never takes a sub home and for the most part, he just observes. I’ve had plenty of submissives – men and women alike – who want to know more about Ryder, but he’s a closed book even to me.

  There’s something else about Ryder that makes me nervous, though, and it’s not just the fact that he’s got a secret. It’s the fact that anytime he’s around me, I feel anxious and sweaty and fucking wet. That deep baritone voice just fucking sings to my damn soul.

  “No?” He smiles, leaning forward. “That’s a damn shame, June.”

  “Why’s that?” I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. All I really want to do is throw myself at Ryder and wrap my legs around his body.

  Control is paramount, though.

  I have to be in control.

  My self-control is legendary, and it’s why Anchored has been so successful. I don’t play at the club. I never, ever play at the club. It’s my club and I need to keep a level head when I’m here. This is why working the bar is great for me. I have a front-seat view for everything that’s happening. I can watch the scenes, the parties, and the fun, but I never have to join in.

  I never have to play.

  I never have to worry about giving up a little piece of myself.

  An
d isn’t that kind of sad to think about?

  Ryder licks his lips. My eyes are drawn to those lips. Like a moth to a flame, I can’t seem to move away as I watch him.

  “Because there’s nothing I’d love more than to hear that word slipping off your tongue while I was buried inside of you, June.”

  My mouth goes dry.

  Ryder Hawke is looking at me like I’m good enough to eat, and I have nowhere to run. I shouldn’t be staring at his jaw line, wondering what his lips taste like. I shouldn’t. It’s not appropriate for me to be lusting after a patron. After all, this is where I work. If I tried to get into a relationship with Ryder and it failed, I’d have to see him every week.

  Not only that, but I’d have to see him with other women.

  I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that.

  “I…” I open my mouth to speak, but my voice trails off when he smiles at me.

  Ryder Hawke smiles, and I realize I’m in deep shit.

  Chapter 2

  Ryder

  June Gables is the hottest girl at Anchored, and she knows it.

  She tries to pretend she’s modest and shy, but there’s no way she can miss how fantastic her breasts look pushed up in that corset or how delicate her hair looks when she wears it down. There’s no way she can think she’s anything less than perfect.

  June Gables is a fucking goddess, and I’d do anything to get her in my bed.

  There’s just one problem: I’m not who I pretend to be.

  She looks at me with suspicion and distrust in her eyes, but I’ve given her no reason for that. I’ve been nothing but a gentleman since I joined the club months ago, but she doesn’t know that. No, to her, I’m just another Dom. I’m just another player in this crazy game. I’m just one more guy who likes to tie up women and feel them come, clenching my cock as they spiral out of control.

  And oh, I want June to be that woman.

  The truth is that I haven’t slept with anyone since I joined Anchored. It’s strange for me to be celibate, but I can’t risk fucking up my mission. I’m in Westbrook for work and only work. I’m town until the mission is complete, and then I’m back to Nellenston.

  Then I’m back to my normal life.

  Only being around June makes me not want to go back to that world.

  She’s smart, and she’s hilarious. She keeps everyone in their place. People think Thorn is the man in charge at Anchored, but I’d bet my life on it being June’s place. She’s always looking around, always watching. She rarely drinks at work. She’s much too focused for that.

  I’ve never seen her so much as kiss a man – or a woman – at the club.

  June is a mystery, and she’s one I want to solve.

  Desperately.

  Now I’ve made my move and I have to wait and see what happens next. Will she counter? Will she melt? Will she accept my proposal? I shouldn’t want her as badly as I do, but I can’t seem to help myself.

  “Ryder,” she says slowly, but two submissives come up to the bar just then and she turns her attention to them. “Ladies,” she says, her voice soft and delicate. “What’ll it be?”

  “Um,” a petite blonde twists her hair around a finger and looks at all of the options. “How about a rum and coke for me and a long island for Josie?”

  Josie, a curvy redhead, bobs her head in agreement.

  “Of course, Amber,” June smiles. She holds out two pink bracelets, but the submissives frown at her in return.

  “What?” Amber asks.

  “You know the rules, ladies,” June tells them. Her voice is firm, but not unkind. How does she do that? “If you’re going to drink, you’re done playing for the night.”

  “That’s not very fair,” Josie glares at June.

  “That’s fine,” June shrugs, setting the bracelets down. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.”

  “But…but…” Amber sputters, trying to find a way to convince June. I lean back against the barstool I’m sitting on and watch the entire scene. June intrigues me more than any other woman I’ve met. She’s definitely a submissive when it comes to men. I’ve seen the way her eyes flutter down when she’s being admonished, but around women?

  She’s a natural Domme.

  It’s not often I find a switch who is both beautiful and smart, but June fits the bill. I bet she’d be lovely to experience in bed. I bet she’d be willing and eager and delicious. I’ve spent too many nights to count just rubbing my cock and thinking of her on her knees.

  I need to get a grip.

  “Amber, you knew the rules when you joined the club,” June says firmly. “Do I need to go find your Dom and tell him you tried to be sneaky?”

  “Well, no,” Amber whispers. She’s blushing and obviously embarrassed.

  “This isn’t fair,” Josie says again, rolling her eyes. I’m about to turn and say something to the disrespectful sub, but June is on top of things. Instead of arguing with Josie, she simply waves her hand and a man appears. He’s tall, lean, and handsome.

  Her lover?

  I don’t think so.

  In the time I’ve been coming to the club, June has never taken a lover. At least, not one I’ve known about. I’ve tried to keep my attraction to her under wraps, but I’ve asked around casually and as far as anyone can tell, she doesn’t date.

  “Problem?” The tall man asks.

  “No,” Josie and Amber say. At the same time, June nods.

  “Actually, there is a problem. These two submissives want to drink without wearing a pink bracelet. They know the house rules, but don’t feel like following them. Could you kindly explain the situation to their Doms?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thank you, Zack.”

  “Anything for you, June.” The man turns to the two girls. Suddenly, their brave façade has faded, leaving them looking scared and vulnerable, as it should. Disrespect isn’t something that’s tolerated at any BDSM club, but especially not at Anchored. June takes her position very seriously here and she demands respect from all of her patrons. Anyone who comes to the bar to ask for a drink has to wear a bracelet the rest of the night that designates them as a non-player.

  It’s for everyone’s protection.

  The man takes the girls by the elbows and they whine as he leads them off. He says something to them and their whining subsides.

  “You handled that well,” I say once they’re out of earshot.

  “What? Oh, the girls.” June shakes her head. “Well, you know. Rules are rules.” She grabs a cloth and begins wiping the bar down.

  “If you keep cleaning so much, you’re going to wear off the finish,” I nod toward the bar top. It’s a deep mahogany. It’s beautiful, but it’s already starting to fade from her incessant cleaning.

  “You’re right,” June says, glancing at the bar. She sets the cloth down and looks at me. “I get nervous,” she says, shaking her head. Then she leans back against the opposite counter.

  “Nervous? About what?”

  “I don’t like confrontation,” she admits.

  “Really? But you’re so good at it.”

  She shakes her head. “We all do what we have to do, right? I’m good at confrontation, but I don’t enjoy it.”

  “Nobody enjoys it.”

  “Lawyers do,” she points out. “I should know. There’s enough of them here.”

  “Maybe it’s just a Dom thing,” I suggest helpfully, and June laughs. Her laugh is full and rich and joyous, and it speaks to my very soul. If I could make her laugh like that again and again and again, I’d be a happy man.

  “You know,” she says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You might be on to something.” She’s bending forward now and her breasts are heaving with every breath. She has to know how fucking hot she is. She just has to. She has to know how much I want to slide my tongue over her cleavage, how much I want to pull each of her nipples into my mouth and just bite.

  She has to know, but when she smiles at me, it’
s with such an innocence that suddenly, I wonder if she might not know. Is there a chance that June doesn’t realize what a catch she is? Is there a chance she doesn’t realize just how lovely she is?

  “So, I never got you a drink,” she says, nodding to the empty space in front of me. “Can I get you anything?” She asks. June holds up a pretty pink bracelet and waves it in front of me. “You have to wear a bracelet, though.”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. “How about a Coke?”

  “Coke as in soda or Coke as in Coke?”

  “Coke as in Coke,” I say, and she quickly makes me a drink. When she turns around, my eyes are glued to her pretty behind, and when she spins back around, she catches me staring.

  “Oh, Ryder,” she sets the drink in front of me and then leans down. She motions for me to move forward, and I do. Then June’s lips brush across my ear as she whispers, “I’m still not going to call you sir.”

  Chapter 3

  June

  Despite owning one of the hottest sex clubs around, my life is quite mundane and ordinary. I spend most of my day doing paperwork and researching new and interesting BDSM activities to try at the club. I’ve had a couple of requests for game nights. We already have theme nights a few times a month, so squeezing in a game night with different activities shouldn’t be too hard.

  “Hey,” Ranger peeks his head in my office. “You have a minute?”

  “Yeah,” I look up. “Are you doing an interview today?”

  Ranger is my psychologist. More specifically, he’s the psychologist for Anchored. It’s his job to perform a psychological evaluation for each potential member before I let them walk through the doors on a club night. Kinky people I can handle. Crazy people? Not so much. It’s for my own safety and the safety of my patrons that I require everyone go through this screening process.

  “I’ve got two scheduled.” He glances at the files he’s holding. “Katya Johnson and Ginger Spencer.”

  “Those sound like fake names.”