Page 77 of To Catch a Sub

“People are complicated. And sometimes, when what we need feels wrong, we can’t do it on our own. We have to be pushed.” Andrei took a long sip. “Forced.” He said the word with an almost relish that had Landon narrowing his eyes. “We want someone else to blame when we give in to the need.”

Landon’s brows rose in surprise at that last statement. This was the first time he’d had any sort of philosophical BDSM discussion with the other agent.

“Looks like your girl is about to join a scene,” Andrei said.

Landon whipped around. Colette was kneeling on a low table behind another sub, who leaned back against her. Colette’s head was bowed, the curtain of her hair hiding her face.

Landon set his beer bottle down on the bar with a snap, a cold anger crackling inside him.

“Ah, this will be good to watch,” Andrei purred.

Landon stalked across the club, the music pounding in time with his heartbeat. He’d told her. He’d warned her.

Master Leon looked up from his seat in an armchair facing the low table.

“Landon,” he said cordially.

“Leon.” Landon inclined his head. “I need to take Thief.”

Leon arched a brow.

“She’s not supposed to be scening.” Landon didn’t look at Colette.

“Ah, she didn’t tell me that.”

“I figured. Do you want me to find someone else?”

“No, another sub isn’t necessary for my plan. I just think Jewel looks pretty with her head resting against another woman’s breasts.” Leon smiled at his sub.

“Thief,” Landon said, finally shifting his attention to Colette. “Come with me.”

Colette watched him from under her lashes, and he couldn’t read her expression. When she didn’t move, Landon slid his hand around her neck, over the collar.

Colette lay her cheek against his wrist.

Fuck.

Landon moved around behind her, releasing her neck to grip her waist.

He hauled her off the table, Leon leaning forward to steady his own sub who was suddenly without back support. Colette swayed into him as he set her on her feet.

As if seeking his touch. Needing a connection between them.

Wishful thinking. She’d probably been drinking. “How many drinks have you had?”

“None, Sir.”

Landon closed his eyes, fingers tightening on her until she gasped and relaxed against him. He believed her, believed that soft, submissive tone coupled with the way she’d just relaxed against him despite the tightness of his grip.

Most people jerked away from pressure, but she went soft and submissive under the pressure of his hands. It was a reaction that was unique to submissives—the need to submit overriding the instinct to move away from physical threat or pain.

She was giving all the signs of a sub desperate to scene. One who was already in sub space.

Colette whimpered. It was barely audible over the music that thumped through the club. It wasn’t a sound of pain or fear, but need.

He’d been fighting a silent battle, but that sweet little noise she made broke the stasis that gripped him.

Landon hauled her away from the other couple, to a relatively unoccupied area near a stage with a wooden horse on it. Landon turned to face Colette, holding her by the upper arms and bending to catch her gaze.