Mechanical Pleasure: The Chasers, #6

By Tanya Sands

Bad boy business owner, Iain Sinclair is saddled with a convicted felon for an employee. He never expected that felon to be a curvy, beautiful Luna Jayson. The feisty non-submissive catches his eye, igniting a desire in Iain to show her his lifestyle isn’t as intimidating as it appears. Is he up for the challenge of taming her stubborn nature?

Bad girl ex-con, Luna is sent to Sinful Restorations as part of her parole agreement. She didn’t expect to be attracted to the cocky bastard business owner. It’s an attraction that could jeopardize her parole. Invited to open night at the local kink club, she’s stunned to see Iain there, as if expecting her. She feared her wish to keep things uncomplicated was about to be disrupted. Having lost control of her life in the past, can she learn to trust Iain and allow him to show her that loss of control wasn’t as scary as it sounded?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tanya Sands
• Release date: Aug 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386685760

Tanya Sands

Tanya Sands is the pseudonym of a stay-at-home mom who, having written but not published short stories for years, finally took the leap and published her passion. When she’s not writing she’s raising her 2 young boys and 3 furbabies while her husband supports them all by driving all over the country as a long haul truck driver. She is the youngest of 6 and a proud vet of the US Air Force.

Book preview

Prologue

NYC – 10th Ave, near Javits Center, eight-years prior

Club Fire & Ice

What the hell did I get myself into? Box seats at the NY Rangers game, then a quick ride to the building he was now in. Iain had to admit he hadn’t expected to walk through the doors of a strip joint. Or ‘gentleman’s club’ as the curvy twins—Tallapoosa and Tuscaloosa—had called it. And with their obvious southern drawl and very plump lips, the term sounded almost adorable. Of course, he wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying so much as picturing their lips wrapped around his dick. And that was just the beginning.

Back in California he was a member of a very private club, Sharp Twist. There he was one of the top dogs. Not in charge, but approached frequently on techniques and toy usage. He could definitely see these two blonde beauties tied to the club spider web, positions mirrored. He’d not be able to work them both at the same time, but with the help from another Dom, he could. Right then, though, he had the ladies—he used that term very loosely—all to himself.

Here, sugah, have another bite.

Yes, another bite.

He had no clue which twin was which and he really couldn’t care less.

Giovanni Capone—Vanni as he insisted he be called—owned Fire and Ice and was a possible future client. He claimed he was somehow related to Al Capone from Chicago mobster fame. Growing up in Chicago, Iain had experienced many run-ins with the mafia. From Iain’s personal experience, Vanni’s dark chocolate colored skin didn’t seem to be the norm of La Cosa Nostra, but he wasn’t about to question a client. Especially since his very rough looking bouncers seemed to always be close by.

Regardless, it put some hesitation in his mind to accept a job he’d normally kill for. With just three made—only two of those surviving the trip across the Atlantic Ocean—Iain had heard an anonymous buyer had purchased a 1936 Bugatti Type 57SC Atlantic for forty million. He had to wonder how in the hell the man had gotten his hands on such a rare car. It made him very leery in accepting the job, no matter the amount of money. However, if the job was legit it would certainly contribute to a lot of hard-ons at the garage being a thing of beauty—plus, the hefty sum he’d charge would go a long way to paying bills and making improvements at the shop. Parker, the shop manager, would be putting his skills to the test checking out the paperwork Vanni would provide. He would not even so much as breathe on the car, if everything wasn’t on the up and up.

The whole situation was on hold at that moment anyhow. Iain had flown in to New York City that afternoon, attended a NY Rangers hockey game—people assumed since he was originally from Chicago he’d be a Blackhawk fan, but nope, he’d always loved the Rangers—then to Fire and Ice. He’d been a bit taken back when they first walked in. Who the hell has a business meeting at a strip club? For that matter, what owner of a strip club closes the business to have a Christmas holiday party for select clientele? Those were certainly good questions, but once they talked over the project—with a promise to produce the necessary paperwork the following day—Iain had been introduced to the very beautiful, yet not so bright Alabama twins, Tallapoosa and Tuscaloosa, and encouraged to share some cake.

With a shake of his head, Iain brought his focus back to the two women who alternated giving him bites. And though he assumed the club wouldn’t even think of breaking any laws—cue sarcasm and eye rolls—he had a feeling there would be somewhere he could take the women to deal with certain itches. He got the sense they would enjoy his brand of attention. He had hinted of his preferences and with a lot of yes, sirs and no, sirs, had come to the conclusion the twins were indeed submissives. Yes, both of them. He’d tag-teamed a submissive before, but had never worked more than one at a time. He was certainly up for the challenge with these two beauties.

With a nod of his host’s head, and two fingers indicating he wanted both, he allowed a huge smile to cross his face as they led him to a back room. He was a bit disappointed he didn’t have his toy bag to be able to test the girls the way he’d normally do at his club back home, but he was sure to make do. By the time the door shut behind them, he was in full Dom mode, mentally making a deal with his nutsack and dick they’d have their pleasure soon enough.

All right, my pets. Strip and kneel for me. This will be a night you won’t forget for a long time to come.

Chapter One

Come on, Luna. I’m sure whatever you’re wearing is fine. We’re going to be late and I swear if I get punished by Sir Sam because of you I’m gonna be pissed.

Luna Jayson stood in her small bedroom looking at herself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her closet door. Her heart was racing. Josie, one of a small group of women that were like sisters, was taking her to Silence Rapture that very evening. The local BDSM club was having what was called a munch. It had been explained to her this was a way for kinksters to get together, enjoy a meal or drinks and possibly have demonstrations, some would even play. It was also a way for newbies to meet like-minded people. Though the munch would be held at the club, and she’d be able to see some displays to see if she’d have any interest in joining the club’s submissive training program.

So how did she get to where she was now? She just turned twenty-nine and she’d never shown an interest in the role of submissive before. Yes, she’d had boyfriends who she’d had rough sex with—spanks here and there, even getting tied up occasionally—but she’d never known herself to be submissive before. That made her ask herself again why was she doing this.

Luna had to admit when she found out how Josie leaned sexually—yeah, she didn’t have in-depth details, but she sure could connect the dots—she was interested. But after attending Josie and Sam’s wedding/collaring ceremony, she felt a sense of belonging. Watching how her friend submitted herself to her husband—minus the branding, cue wince—Luna could remember the titillation she experienced. The rush of exhilaration that ran through her body was one she’d never felt before. She felt it right then as she looked at herself, her body flushed with anticipation—of what she didn’t know.

She had found herself researching the subject of BDSM more and more. Some of it scared the hell out of her and some was pretty tame. When she specified S&M in her search she cringed. It just looked so painful. She knew Josie was into pain but Luna couldn’t see that path for herself. What really piqued her interest were the photos of women gracefully submitting themselves. The respect and trust that was laid before them was so palpable. And the look in the Dom’s eyes? She wanted that. She wanted a man to look at her as though she were a treasure, something to be cherished.

Josie, come here, please. I just don’t know if what I’m wearing is right.

Her bedroom wasn’t very big, so when Josie opened the door and entered, it seemed to get smaller. Nervously she turned to her friend and clasped her hands in front of her. She didn’t want to dress too much like she thought a submissive would dress. This excursion was supposed to help Luna decide if the alternative lifestyle was something she’d want to pursue. She had her suspicions on what the outcome would be, but deep down she knew.

Aw, baby girl, you look beautiful. Any Dom worth having will look at you and want to play. Turn around and let me see.

Luna felt a little self-conscious in the tight leather outfit. At least the corset hid some of her rolls of flesh. The skirt was flared at the hips and would twirl if she spun too fast. The stiletto boots came up to right above her knees. She had gathered her bright red hair into a tight ponytail. Her nails were painted silver. Peanut, the Rottweiler she had adopted from The Haven, lay on her bed seemingly uninterested in the conversation. Luna looked at the dog affectionately—thinking for the runt of the litter he was pretty big.

All her life, she’d been on the heavy side. Not obese, but lots of curves. No one in her family had been heavy like she was—not that she knew of. She remembered her mother as always being slender. Even her father and brothers were all in shape. In fact, her brother Cary was a boxer and his twin, Dary was a fitness model who specialized in romance book covers. And though their father was nothing more than an ex-con convicted of owning a chop shop, he was always the epitome of a strong man. But Luna? No, she was all excessive curves.

You don’t think it’s too tight or revealing?

Luna almost instantly mentally kicked herself. She sounded whiny, needy and pathetic. As if she couldn’t survive without the attentions of a man, any man. She was tougher than that. The way she’d grown up she’d had to be. When she was seven, her mom died. She had been too young to know her father’s garage was actually an illegal business. Her brothers worked for him. When the state received a lot of reports she was home alone a lot—her dad and brothers figured since she was a girl she could make herself meals and clean the house while they worked long hours—they stepped in and removed her from the family home. The only reason her brothers weren’t brought along was because they had just turned eighteen.

From before she even hit her teen years she’d had to endure stares, ass grabs, stolen kisses and conversations directed at her chest. Though she spent time with decent foster parents until the time she came of age, it was the other foster kids who took liberties with her. At first she had been too scared to fight off the advances. The last couple of years in foster care had been very rough. She fought a lot and the final nail in her coffin had been days before she turned eighteen. A younger teen had attempted to rape her. She’d been fed up with keeping her abuse in the dark and fought back. The end result had been gifting the teen with a black eye and some very sore balls. Though the boy had tried to claim he was innocent, when a couple of other foster kids stated he was lying, it saved her from criminal charges.

Once she left the foster home she had reconnected with her father and brothers. She worked in the garage in the office and slowly began to train to become a mechanic. While most of the business was illegal, they did have legitimate work too. She became very knowledgeable with working on cars and motorcycles. At first she’d not been aware of the chop shop activities, until late one night when she had forgotten to close out a couple of accounts and returned to the garage. When she arrived, her father and brothers were in the process of dismantling some sports cars.

She’d been furious and begged them to stop stealing cars, but they’d refused to listen. With no education and no money to leave her father’s house, she’d resigned herself to their work. Sure it bothered her, but she figured if she stayed on the legit side of things she’d not get in trouble with the law. She figured wrong. Since she knowingly kept the books and maintained the inventory of the other side of the business, the law lumped her in with her father and brothers in the raid that eventually happened. She’d been convicted right along with them for being in possession of stolen property and, even though it was her first offense, she received two years in prison along with a year of probation.

Her now felonious status didn’t stop her from loving her father and brothers—although that love was now bittersweet. She lost her family for a second time when they received longer sentences. She vowed to make sure when they were released—which would happen in a few months—they’d go legit. She wasn’t sure how she would accomplish it, but she’d do it. In the meantime, she was due to start work at a local garage/classic car restoring business. She liked the catchy name, Sinful Restorations, and hoped like hell her new boss wasn’t an asshole.

Luna? Babe, you okay? Josie’s voice cut through.

Pulled back to the present, Luna met Josie’s eyes in the mirror.

What? Oh yeah, just thinking, she answered distractedly.

You know you have nothing to be nervous about, right? The handle you’ve got going there is going to be a big hit with the Doms. Especially a certain sinful one. Luna looked at Josie in confusion. Uh, Sir Sin? Nothing? No worries, you’ll find out. And Sir Sam was just telling me the other day between the new members—and even some of the ones who have been there a while—they’ve liked the sudden influx of curvier submissives who have been joining. We’re quite the rage apparently.

Josie, I don’t want you getting your hopes up about this. When I told you I was kinda in awe with your collaring ceremony, it didn’t necessarily mean I’m submissive material. What if I can’t deal with a man bossing me around? And what the hell do you mean by handle?

The look on Josie’s face went a long way to assuaging the worry flowing through Luna. Though she came across as a hardass—growing up as she did, and prison time, will do that to a person—she couldn’t help the longing she had deep down for a man to treat her like no other. Someone to cherish her and give her hope she could have a love life like she remembered of her parents. Now, she wasn’t looking for it in the alternative lifestyle Josie was going to introduce her to, but it would go a long way to building her confidence and possibly igniting a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite define right yet.

Luna girl, you know how I am outside of the club. Do I seem the type to allow bossing around, as you put it? It’s more than orders, hon. It’s a feeling of rightness. It’s almost instinctive, almost primal. I know the way I’ve talked about it doesn’t do it justice in any way, shape or form. I see a lot of me in you, girl, and my gut is telling me this is for you. It’s up to you to make the final determination, though. Goosebumps began to spread across Luna’s body when Josie then smirked at her. As to the handle? I’ve no doubt you’ll find out soon enough. Now, can we leave before I get in trouble? Sam isn’t the most patient of Doms sometimes. He can be very intense, girly.

And you love how he does you, woman. I’ve seen you blush like a schoolgirl since you’ve been with him. So whatever he dishes out to you, I know you’ve enjoyed—for the most part.

A dreamy look came over Josie’s face. It was a look Luna had seen not only on Josie’s face, but Randa and Syun too. She was so very happy for her friends, and despite her own deep down desire to be in a relationship, she wasn’t sure she wanted that right then. Besides, what man wants to get involved with an ex-con?

Okay, let’s get the show on the road. Don’t let it be said I kept you from your beating.

I don’t get beat...

Luna laughed, scratched Peanut behind her ears, then walked passed Josie. They bantered back and forth as they locked up and got into Josie’s Jeep to head out.

***

No, girl, you can’t come. Oh come on, Ghita, it’s not fair to give me the sad puppy dog face. I can’t have everyone knowing the big bad guard dog I own isn’t as ferocious as she looks. Uncle Sam loves you but not enough to allow me to bring you to the club.

Standing in the doorway of his house, Iain Sinclair was attempting to keep his Cane Corso from following him out the door. His large, three-bedroom house was located in Poway. Close enough to San Diego to be able to see his group of friends and yet private enough to not worry about his neighbors reporting him for ‘disturbing the peace’. There were times he’d bring a sub home for playtime. Having a finished basement with the accoutrements certainly came in handy.

He was currently without a submissive, however. They had parted ways when Penny moved to Iowa to care for her ailing sister—he sure wished cancer would go fuck itself. Though Penny had been slender, she was a dream as a sub. The perfect combination of brattiness, mixed with obedience. However, slender was not his preference. Iain was one of a group of friends who had a few common bonds. One being BBW’s as society calls them, curvy ladies as he and his friends referred to them. They all accepted the moniker of ‘chubby chaser’ proudly.

It would be kind of strange being at the club without Penny, but there were plenty of subs wishing and needing to be scened with. He hadn’t been to the club since she was released, but Sam had been quick to reassure Iain there had recently been a few curvy lovelies to have joined. He was eager to see who was on the market. He knew there were a few other Doms—who had no permanent play partners—he’d have to compete with, but he was confident he’d catch the eye of a few of the new subs, meaning he’d have his pick. He wasn’t being cocky, just confident.

Not that he cared if someone thought him cocky. He knew what he liked and he went after it. If it didn’t work out, it wasn’t because of his lack of trying. He wasn’t known as Sir Sin for nothing. Yes, he’d accepted the tagline years earlier. A group of submissives had let it be known they would love to have him work them over. So much so they cared little about protocol. Of course the ones who flouted proper behavior he ignored. He didn’t so much mind the occasional misbehaving, but to blatantly act that way wasn’t something he was looking to work on.

He and Penny had been good together for the last couple of years. Their sessions intense and satisfying for both of them. When her sister found out she had cancer, and her treatments would be rough, Penny knew she’d have to be with her sister to help care for her kids. Since it was in her hometown, she was able to get a decent enough job that enabled her to be like a second mom to her niece and nephews. Though disappointed in her relocating, Iain understood the importance of family.

The youngest of four, Iain was the only one who was any kind of a challenge for his mother—his three much older sisters having had more time to adapt to the death of a parent. His father died while working for the city of Chicago as a fire fighter before Iain was born. Growing up without a dad was hard, no male model to teach his younger self how a good man should act. Iain had been too messed up to think about honoring his father’s memory.

The turning point in his life came right before he entered his teen years. Having been caught shoplifting in a local, family owned convenient store—coincidentally owned by a dear friend of his mother’s—was enough of an eye opener. Instead of contacting the local authorities about what he did, Mrs. O’Neill kept him there until his mother could get him. It had been decided the group of friends he spent time with were not the influence a growing boy should have.

His dad’s brother owned a garage in a suburb of Chicago. Uncle Garrett and Aunt Cori suggested he come live with them. With only one child and a prosperous garage they were a logical choice to get Iain on track to staying out of trouble. His cousin, Cameron was like a brother to him even if they’d only seen each other on long weekends and vacations. So, on his thirteenth birthday he moved. Though he missed his mom, they were close enough that he could go visit or she and his sisters could come to see him whenever they liked.

As part of living with his extended family, he was given chores in the garage. He balked at first, but eventually the work grew on him and he caught the grease monkey bug. Starting with simple jobs, he’d soon graduated to major jobs, working after school and on weekends. When he was eighteen, he’d purchased a Honda CRX from a woman who lived near the shop—a bitter divorce had her selling her ex’s car that happened to be in her name. Needing body work and a major overhaul, he and his uncle brought it to factory perfection.

Once he graduated from high school, Iain hadn’t wanted his aunt and uncle to feel obligated to pay for his college education—and he wouldn’t let his mother either. Instead, he enlisted in the Army and did his patriotic duty by serving his country. Because of his skills with mechanics, it was a logical step for the military to assign him to the motor pool. Though extremely proud of having served, he realized it wasn’t the life for him and decided not to reenlist. Instead, he took advantage of the GI Bill and took a course in business management with the intention of opening his own car restoration business. His love of classic cars very evident, in fact he was a bit obsessed with them. But he knew starting out it might not bring in the cash flow he needed to survive.

When his mother finally retired from her nursing job, he and his sisters gave her the gift of a week-long cruise to tropical destinations. At this point, his sisters had left home and were living in different parts of the country, and their mom had moved in with her brother and his wife. Unfortunately, a freak accident during that cruise claimed his mother’s life. Not wanting to be in the area his mother lived in any longer—the pain too great despite his aunt and uncle still there—he looked for a place to live with more temperate climates, and chose the San Diego area. California became his home, giving his family a place to visit when the cold, harsh Chicago winters became too much.

Knowing Ghita liked going on rides with him, he spent time playing ball launch with her. The reasoning was two-fold; give her the attention she needed and tire her out at the same time. Finally, Ghita gave up on chasing the ball and loped over to lie next to her water bowl, drinking deeply. It gave Iain the opportunity to slip out. In his garage were two vehicles. The CRX that he’d fixed up as a teen—still purring like a kitten and running great—and a custom-built motorcycle were parked. His other car was due to be delivered soon for him to begin restorations on and to be added to his collection. Since he and Sam had planned to take a ride up the coast on their motorcycles, Iain mounted his bike and pulled out, hitting the garage remote to close the door once cleared.

The drive to Silence Rapture was a quiet one and gave Iain time to reflect. It had been a while since work had been crushingly busy lately. Since he’d landed the job of remodeling a 1936 Bugatti eight years ago for a guy back East, word of mouth got him the reputation that he was the go-to guy for all things cars—classic or otherwise—and motorcycles, which pretty much gave him and his shop job security. Collectors were always calling to have him work on their babies. Much to the consternation and gratification of him and his business manager, Parker Kensington. Since he was a hands-on kind of guy, Iain liked to work on as many projects as he could, which led him to need a manager to free him up, hence the hiring of Parker.

Parking his bike, he looked around and saw Sam’s Monster, a fine piece of machinery on two wheels. He wondered if Sam and Josie had begun playing yet and hadn’t wanted to miss it. Jeremy, still having to deal with the nickname of ‘baby Dom’ was curious how a submissive could be worked over by two Doms at the same time. Since Sam was the one to vouch for the kid, he’d been kind of insistent on being the one to show him the ropes, so to speak, on a lot of levels. So, since multiple partners wasn’t a hard limit for Josie, they would both play with her. However, since Sam was not only Josie’s Dom but also her husband, Jeremy wouldn’t be penetrating her with anything other than toys or his hands.

He exchanged pleasantries with Roger, the security guard at the main door, then walked into the club. Inside, he stopped and looked around, admiring the décor and the familiar sights he’d seen many times. The smell of lemon and musk in the air. One reassured the club was clean—there were subs that volunteered to clean when the club was closed to pay for their memberships—the other was the scent of the sex that would take place in the private rooms.

Making his way through the main room, Iain came to the biggest play room. It was currently cordoned off to show it was reserved. A quick glance showed Sam and Jeremy readying