Page 1 of The Club

ONE

Rafael

What the hell is Dominic Capelli doing in my club? Not even my nightclub. Mysexclub. Mygaysex club.

It disturbs me.

It fascinates me.

I can’t stop staring at him.

I’m not the only one staring at him, because he’s hot as fuck, but I am the only one who knows what a goddamn homophobe he is.

Obviously, I need to keep an eye on him.

Nyx keeps looking at me. She can handle the bar herself and wants to know why I’m here fucking up her vibe. At 5’10”, fit and curvy, she’s spectacular in her classy dominatrix leathers and high pink pigtails.

She prefers to be a solo act, but she can fucking deal with it. It’s my bar. Besides, I make better margaritas than she does.

She once asked me the secret. I told her it was the plug in my ass, that a little pressure on my prostate always gets me thinking creatively.

That was three years ago. We’ve been locked in battle ever since. She’s my favorite.

“You’re obviously watching somebody,” she comments, creeping over to see what I’m putting in the margaritas. Too late. She already missed the secret ingredient.

It’s not even that secret. Doesn’t she have the internet? What a shitty bartender.

“You know I like shibari. Besides,” I add as she scrutinizes how much lime juice I’m adding, “I’m always watching somebody.”

She snorts. “That’s the truth.”

Indeed, and it’s one of the many freedoms that a place like Lush offers. Every kink is accepted, every indulgence encouraged. Voyeurism is half the fun.

In truth though, I’m perfectly capable of multitasking, so Iamwatching, or at least half watching, the gorgeous demonstration happening on the stage. Kenji is a master of the Japanese style of erotic binding.

Kenji’s partner is suspended in the steel frame. Ropes twine intricately around his limbs and torso. The knotwork itself is art, but it also serves to highlight particular parts of his body. His ass is framed beautifully, and his hard cock juts up from the bindings.

Lush is known for its performances. The nightclub upstairs leans toward sultry and classy. The atmosphere there wears a couture dress over its sexy soul. I love to go back and forth between that and the exquisite, unabashed sexuality on display down here, where the more erotic performances set the tone.

Here, like upstairs, couches, chairs, and tables carve the space around the stage into dozens of nooks that manage to flow into each other. From these, the club patrons enjoy the show or focus on their own pleasures. Though Lush offers several private play rooms, many enjoy this more public space. Several men are fucking. Two women play together with toys. Others touch, kiss, masturbate.

Then there’s Dominic, sitting on a couch by himself in an alcove at the edge of the room. His semi-sheer black button up isn’t the overt advertisement that most of the clothes here are, but it still offers teasing glimpses of his powerful body. His dark crewcut hair is effortless and perfect for his gorgeous face.He would fit right in here—and have plenty of company—if his expression didn’t so clearly say “fuck off.”

He’s barely touched his gin and tonic.

I finish the margaritas and slide them to Nyx, no longer in the mood to play bartender. Dominic isn’t paying attention to me anyway. I suspect he’s deliberately ignoring me. After all, he has no reason to be herebutme.

I make my way to where he’s sitting. The lights are low, mostly red and gold. They brighten over the stage and select spots, but Dominic is sitting in one of the darker corners.

I slide onto the red leather couch beside him. His head turns my way. Golden light lays diffusely across one side of his face. It paints the tendons of his neck until they disappear behind his collar.

He looks every bit as beautiful and severe as the night I shot his father.

“Rafael,” he says.

“Dominic.”

He didn’t start out as my enemy. Years ago, when we were both residents of hell, Dominic and I had very little to do with each other. He was mostly kept separate from the rest of us. In the years after, we had nothing at all to do with each other, because even then the bad blood was actually between Dominic’s father and my friend Dante.

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