Page 39 of Under His Skin

Bahjat ended up nodding. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go first thing in the morning. Send me all the details.” Then she laughed. “Can you imagine though? Alex as a witness? That’s going to be hilarious to see. He’s going to be so bad at it.”

“Indeed. He’s liable to misunderstand half their questions. And I do hope he’s been very uncooperative with the prosecution’s people.”

She gave a dismissive wave. “Of course he is. Alex is only cooperative when you’re around. Man, that time when you were sick, Alex was a complete asshole to everybody. It really made me appreciate that leash you keep on him.”

Tracht had to struggle to remember the incident, but then he recalled that he’d caught something from a client who had recently returned from Pylos. The illness itself had made Tracht irritable, and without the energy to do anything about it, he’d banished Alex from the cabin. Tracht also had had no desire for Alex to end up catching it. He didn’t want to play nursemaid.

“So, y’know, don’t worry so much about Alex. I’m sure he’s fine, and making others miserable.” Bahjat looked over her shoulder again, saying, “Just hold on!” When she turned around, she gave him one of her usual amused grins. “If that’s all, Captain?”

Since there really wasn’t anything more to say, and Bahjat clearly had other things on her plate, Tracht said goodnight to her and ended the call.

All of that had taken up at most half an hour.

Tracht didn’t know what to do with himself now. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, and if he went out and faced Anna or the rest of her family, he would snap at them.

What did he used to do with himself, before he had Alex to entertain him? He could read a book, or watch vids, all of which would have been fine on the ship but wouldn’t hold his attention now.

Finally, he gave in and called Dimitri.

Dimitri refused the call, but a few seconds later he called back. “Hannes? Did you—did you actually call me?”

“Yes,” Tracht said, grimacing at the nickname. He barely tolerated it when Anna’s children called him that. He couldn’t stand it when Dimitri used the name, as if they were intimate with each other, as if they had ever been intimate with each other. Because whatever his short-term affair with Dimitri had been, it had not been one that could be called familiar or close.

“Did this whole trial bullshit cause a psychotic break or something?” Dimitri’s blue eyes were wide with shock.

Looking at him through the vid screen, it was hard to believe that Dimitri was almost forty. He’d barely aged a day from when they’d liaised, although it might have been an illusion of makeup. Tracht remembered how fond Dimitri was of painting his own face, calling it an extension of painting. The blond hair had to be dyed, because Tracht remembered that Dimitri’s curls used to be a darker shade. He was, objectively, a very attractive man.

Tracht found him utterly boring to look at.

“I am still of sound mind,” Tracht said in a clipped voice. “But I find myself at loose ends right now. Are you still a member of, ah, that kink club?”

He should have asked Singh for connections, but after her refusal earlier, he wasn’t going to ask her for anything until they were all back on the Sigrun. Besides, she wasn’t as well-connected here on Cadmus as on Atalanta.

“Uh. Yes? But, what about Alex? They don’t really like bondservants in those places.”

“He’s not with me at the moment,” Tracht said, unwilling to repeat the damned story a third time on the same evening. “I do, however, wish to whip somebody. I’m sure there will be some willing people at your club? All I need is an invitation.”

“Well, duh. There are always people wanting to be whipped. So, um, sure. I guess I can vouch for you.” Whatever Dimitri wanted to add, he seemed to realize it was smarter to shut up. “I’ll send them the details. But I’ll stay home tonight. No offense, but I don’t want to see you.”

“Absolutely none taken. I had no desire to socialize with you.”

So that was settled. Tracht would visit a BDSM club for the first time in… almost ten years, probably. It wouldn’t give him what he actually craved, but hopefully it would keep him from lashing out at somebody else.

Chapter 11

The club wasn’t a secret, per se, but it had a strict system of no uninvited outsiders. Every person had to have somebody else vouch for them first.

It was quaint, that they thought they could trust their membership like that. After all, Dimitri had passed on an invitation to Tracht, despite the fact that Dimitri, of all people, probably knew better than most how ill-suited Tracht was to a place like this.

It had been so long since Tracht had needed to curb his desires though. When he first stepped in, he took one look and almost went right back out. The person up front was giving everybody wristbands with little color-coded lights, each one indicating what somebody was looking for. Male partners, female partners, either; domination, submission, either.

The attendant took one look at Tracht and said, “Lemme guess: dom?”

“Yes. Male partners only.” Tracht waited while his wristband was being prepared. The attendant in question was shirtless, an oversized dog-collar around his neck, and a chain attached to the front desk. It was a pretty picture, if not for the fact that the chain was hooked in with a simple snap hook, easily removed by anybody.

The attendant handed him the wristband and explained the standard rules and where Tracht could rent equipment.

“And remember, just because somebody’s wristband indicates that they’re looking for a dom, doesn’t mean that they’re looking for you. Ask first before engaging in any kind of play. Do not presume to know anybody’s desires. You are not a mind reader.” The attendant said it all with a smile, but there was a certain bite to his words too.

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