Page 46 of Forged By Shadows

“What aren’t you telling us?”

Nixon’s phone rings in his pocket again. There’s only time for him to throw me one more sympathetic look before he leaves, leaving us staring after him. I follow several steps into the main restaurant, watching his dash through the tables. Not to the main entrance, but off to the side and out of sight. At the restaurant's exterior, a crowd of paparazzi have gathered, flashes capturing a celebrity who is entering. The noise is deafening in the short time the door is open, a phrase leaking through. ‘Look, it’s the Hughes siblings!’

I quickly spin and duck into the booth, keeping my back to those now spilling across the restaurant’s window front. Security does their best to usher them along, but the cameras keep flashing and my head starts to pound. There has never been a photo of myself and Wyatt together in any tabloids. No proof we have ever stepped into each other’s lives really.

The waiter returns, placing three meals before us. Wyatt is back in his seat, fully focused on his steak salad and intent on ignoring me. What’s new? I sink lower, a mixture of emotions clashing within my chest when a hand touches my shoulder. I flinch for the second time as a row of figures appear at the table. The four of them have opted for less formal clothes, slacks and fitted t-shirts or sweaters. My mouth waters more than it has done all evening.

“Sorry to impose,” Huxley brushes his thumb over my bare shoulder, “but we’ve been sitting at a table in the back and saw Nixon leave.”

“And we figured you might prefer some more enlightening company,” Dax adds, eyeing Wyatt who’s now ignoring everyone. It must be a really good salad. As the others nudge me to shimmy around the table, Garrett drops into Nixon’s empty space and picks up the knife and fork.

“And it’s a huge shame to waste such good food.” He’s already shoveling dauphinois potatoes into his mouth and eyeing up my breadbasket. “You gonna eat that?” I push both of my bowls over to him and sigh.

“Can we just get out of here? It seems totally pointless coming all this way for nothing.”

“Not for nothing,” Axel leans over to speak in my ear. His hazel eyes are alight with mischief, a small smile on his lips. He strokes my arm languidly, instantly melting my insides. “We spotted a club down the road. Silk and Satin,” his brows bob playfully.

“What kind of club is called Silk and Satin?” I snort. Garrett’s grin grows.

“A sex club,” he announces around a mouthful and loudly enough for anyone nearby to hear. Wyatt falls deathly still, his focus centered on the tablecloth. Pushing my bowl of soup back towards me, Garrett winks. “Eat up. You’ll need some energy.”

Chapter Thirty Three

My fingers twitch with giddiness. Hux went ahead to make sure we could leave the restaurant and enter Silk and Satin via back exits to avoid the cameras. I was more than surprised to see Wyatt tagging along at the back of our small group.

Listening to the orientation speech by Trixie, the receptionist, I can’t help but gravitate to put myself between Avery and Axel. I was supposed to be pulling back, leaving them to it by now, but I can’t bring myself to miss an opportunity like this. Selfish bastard I am and all that.

“Once you’re inside, you’ll find a bar on your right. We encourage you to open a tab; staying hydrated is key. Feel free to wander around and look at all of the rooms before deciding where you’d like to start. Every room has a discrete viewing area which can’t be seen from inside. Please familiarize yourself with the color-coded wristbands throughout the club. We use colors to gauge whether you’re here to play or watch. Consent and protection are imperative at all times. Make sure to discuss your safe words. There will be staff members throughout if you have any specific preferences which aren’t already accommodated for.” Trixie finishes up.

Wyatt is strung so tightly, she mistakes his glare for interest. Trixie winks his way, then permits us into the main club beyond an electronic barrier. We find small baskets lined across the bar, holding a multitude of condoms in various sizes and rubber wristbands in a range of colors. Wyatt puts his card behind the bar for us all as I pick out two baby pink bands for Avery and Axel. Pink means Play, the poster on the wooden surface states. White means Watching. There are more colors, for those who have come alone and are open to any partner, as well as those for dominance and submission.

Wyatt passes out shots, a strangled curse on his lips as he downs his. Something along the lines of ‘what the fuck am I doing here?’ I’d provide him with the answer but I don’t think he’s ready to hear it. Avery quickly follows suit, then grabs my hand and squeezes it tight.

“Let’s get you out of that modest jumpsuit,” I say into her ear. Beyond her head of golden hair, I spot the sign for the dressing rooms. Inside, rows of outfits have been hung for every sexual fantasy. My eyes fall on the one I want immediately and I lift it from the hook.

“No way. Seriously, out of all these choices, Garrett?!” Avery starts backing up and bumps into Axel’s firm chest. I raise my arm, flashing my wristband and Axel, as usual, instantly understands.

“Do as he says. He’s our master tonight.” Circling my wrist is a rubber band in Dark Purple, announcing me as the Dominant tonight. Well, every night but that’s beside the point. Avery takes a beat to comply, dropping her head and taking the hanger from me. I catch her chin as she tries to pass, turning her head to look at me.

“Surrender control to me, Peach. I’ll show how refreshing it is.” My heart skips a beat as those huge, blue eyes blink up at me. So pure and innocent. So fucking willing. I release Avery before I give into the voice in my head and take her right here and now, turning my attention to Axel. “Your turn.”

We emerge into the dimly-lit foyer. Myself, Avery in a skimpy ballerina’s leotard, crotchless and complete with tutu, and Axel topless in loose fitting trousers which are already tented. Around both of their necks, matching black collars are connected to the leash in my hand. The power thrumming through my veins is a heady feeling I won’t tire of anytime soon.

“Aren’t they perfect?” I grin, presenting my new pets to my closest friends and brimming with smugness. Everyone in the vicinity wants Avery, and there’s something to be said for diving in at the deep end.

Dax takes in Avery’s lithe body, her nipples puckered against the thin fabric, her cheeks twinged with a flush. Huxley openly appreciates both of them, his chocolate eyes hungry and lustful. Reaching for the small baskets, he puts back the white band and dons a pink. I smirk, resisting from calling him a good boy.

From his stool at the bar, Wyatt tries to hide his interest, and fails. His hooded gaze floats back to Avery’s face, his breathing shallow. Turning back before anyone notices his mask has slipped, his hand sneaks out and he grabs the white band Huxley just put back. I chuckle, walking away.

Behind an unassuming door, the main hall is divided between glass windows with benches and portraits of naked figures debasing each other. I make a mental note to find out who the artist is, planning on having my own commissioned. The sound of moans and low chatter greets us as we step inside, hit by a wave of warm, moist air heavy with lust and sweat.

We pass the windows, peering into the rooms with interest. Each is a different scenario, fully equipped with toys, restraints and the likes. Every once in a while, we’ll pass a window restricted by black curtains pulled around the benches. If the light above is green, we’re able to peer in. If it’s red, there is a private show happening which we can’t interrupt. I still in front of an empty room depicting a standard classroom. My grin is wide enough to ache. It’s perfect.

“Ready?” I purr into the hollow of Avery’s neck while she looks on.

“As I’ll ever be,” she exhales. I raise a brow and she quickly ducks her head. “I mean…yes Garrett.” I bite my bottom lip to stifle a moan. Usually, I’d opt for a different name. Something to make me forget who I am and how I came to be like this, but when Avery says my name, it’s pure sin. I shoot a sideways glance at Axel for his compliance. He is already scanning the room with bright eyes.

An employee steps forward to unlock the door for us while Dax draws the black curtains around the bench. Wyatt slams his fist onto the button on the wall, switching it to red. Then, he leans against the wall facing the curtain, acting as if he’s not going to watch. I know him better than that.

---