Page 23 of Whatever Lola Wants

“Normally I’d restrain you, but your Daddy feels that might be too much for you. So instead, you’ll hold on to these straps,” she told him, and tucked a Velcro strap into his hand while Richard did the same on the other side. “You will not let go.” Her voice hardened to drive the point home. “If you interfere with what I’m doing, you might get hurt. Or I might get hurt. And that will make me very unhappy. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” His hands gripped the straps so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I understand.”

“This is going to be a fairly short scene, Jamie. I don’t want to push you too hard your first time.” She couldn’t suppress a wicked smile at the slight disappointment she read on his face. “But don’t think that means you’re getting off easy.”

She glanced at Richard across the table and tilted her head, directing him without words to stand at the end of the table above Jamie’s head. The younger man would be able to see him in case he needed reassurance, and Richard would be able to clearly see what she was doing.

She reached for her gloves, snapping them on with a loud crack, and Jamie jumped at the sound.

Oh, hell yes. She drew a deep breath, savoring the jolt of adrenaline. “Let’s begin.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Simon passed the third-floor door that lead to the surgical gallery and paused at the murmur of voices. Someone must be doing a hell of a medical scene, he thought with absent interest. It was rare for medical scenes to draw a crowd, but sometimes a Dom would get his submissive on the gynecological exam table for some role play, and that was always a fun show.

He’d been looking for Grant and Anna, but hadn’t found them. He assumed they weren’t here yet, and restless, had wandered through the club looking for something to catch his interest. From the sounds drifting into the hall, whatever was happening in the medical room might fit the bill.

He shrugged. Medical play wasn’t really his thing, but nothing else was catching his eye tonight. The odd restlessness he’d been feeling every time he came to the club over the last couple of months was stronger, and he could use a distraction.

The room was packed, he noted with surprise, and wondered idly who was stuck in the stirrups below. He edged along the back wall, content to stay out of everyone’s way, and immediately he spotted Grant off to the side. He had his back to the side wall, Anna in front of him so her back was to the gallery. He bent forward to whisper something into Anna’s ear. She nodded, her flame colored hair catching the light, and Grant laughed softly. Simon felt envy curdle in his belly, followed quickly by shame. He didn’t begrudge his friend happiness; he wasn’t that big an asshole, was he? But he couldn’t deny that Grant’s relationship was highlighting his own lack thereof.

Grant glanced back and spotted him. Grinning, he bent to whisper something in Anna’s ear. She twisted around to look, and Simon noticed she was even paler than usual.

Grant jerked his head in a come-on-over gesture, so Simon strode forward, stepping around the crush of spectators to get to them. “Grant.”

“Hey, Simon.” Grant kept his voice to a whisper, per the rules of the room. The gallery was open to the play space below, with no glass to create a sound barrier, so spectators were required to keep their voices down so as not to interfere with the scene.

“What’s going on? Someone getting fisted?” That always seemed to draw a crowd, even with the people who weren’t at all interested in it.

Anna shook her head. “Needle scene.”

Simon’s eyes widened in surprise. “Seriously?” Last he’d heard, none of the members at Odyssey were skilled enough at needle play for Michael to allow them to play in the club. As a matter of fact, the owner had been making noises about bringing in a guest for demonstration and training for any members interested. “Did Michael finally bring in a guest star to do a demo?”

Grant shook his head. “Lola’s doing it.”

“Lola?” Simon frowned. He only knew of one Lola, and she wasn’t a club member. “Lola who?”

Grant shot him an amused look as Anna pointed. “Lola,” she said, and he shifted so he could see over the people in front of him.

His jaw dropped. It was her. Dressed to kill in a blood red catsuit that was unzipped to her belly button, she was swirling a handled sponge over the bare chest of a male submissive with a gloved hand. He couldn’t see the submissive’s face, but he recognized Richard standing at the head of the table, so the boy on the table could only be Jamie.

He scanned the room. A portable medical tray sat to the side of the table, covered with paraphernalia that he couldn’t quite make out at this distance. But the bright red sharps container was clearly recognizable, so the smaller packages had to be the needles.

“Since when is she a member?”

Grant leaned over to speak directly into Simon’s ear. “Michael interviewed her today, checked references from the club she used to play at in San Francisco. Apparently, she’s really good with needles. It was his idea to let her do this where he could observe.”

Simon nodded. It sounded just like Michael to set up an audition of sorts for a new top. Or in this case, switch.

“We’re going to duck out,” Grant said, nudging Anna toward the door. “She’s not a fan of needles.”

Simon looked at Anna, who was looking a little green around the gills. “Got it. Catch you later.”

“Later,” Grant agreed and guided Anna out of the room.

Movement below drew his attention, and Simon turned to look. The prep work was apparently over, and Lola had climbed on top of the table, straddling Jamie’s flat stomach. She reached for the rolling tray.

Looked like the show was about to start.

---