Page 25 of Tested
“And you”—he lays his palms against my chest—“are the sexiest hitman I’ve ever seen.”
I rut against him a couple times, playing, although it wouldn’t take much to make me want to slide him out of those slick trousers and have my way with him. “We better go.”
He rises up on his toes and kisses me. “C’mon, Guido. You’ve got a club to run.”
Arm in arm, we head for the Range Rover. Me, an overpriced assassin, and him, a vision of youth and beauty.
Traffic is typically awful, so we have plenty of time to get lost in our own thoughts. David’s put something jittery on the stereo, amplifying my nerves. “Well, we’re here.” I park next to our bartender’s pickup truck and turn the engine off. “Are you ready?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” David’s confidence rings false.
“Because this is the first time we’ve been here together in a long time.”
He shoots me a wicked grin. “And the last time we were here together, you damn near jacked me off at the bar.”
I laughed, a little embarrassed. “Yeah, but you were so horny.”
“True.” He shakes his head, flipping a wayward lock of hair out of his face. “Are you going to try the same thing again tonight?”
I let my smile grow more serious. “Not tonight. I do want to show you off a little, though, and maybe see if you’re into it.”
“Into what?”
I laugh at his wide-eyed surprise. “Follow me and see.”
One thing Sheena and I agreed on when we opened The Club is that it should have a little of everything. We allow more sex than some BDSM clubs, and although we stock toys for our guests to use, we allow them to bring their own, too. Supernaturals are welcome, as long as they don’t harm the humans, and our bouncers and dungeon monitors are very good at keeping everyone in line.
Tonight’s doorman is new, though he recognizes me and waves us in. The familiar stark interior greets us and I scan the crowd, looking for anyone I recognize.
The Club has a good-sized common area. A single bartender presides over the long bar, which is easy to do because all he serves is soda and water. Even though it’s Sunday night, customers fill the high-top tables and a few stand against the wall. On our way by, I wave to the bartender and nod at the bouncer lurking in the corner, keeping an unobtrusive eye on things.
The manager’s office is upstairs. A U-shaped upper balcony overlooks both the common area and the hallway to the scene rooms. We have the occasional guests who want to get it on in the common area, but most prefer the rooms.
You have to be something of an exhibitionist to play in front of an audience.
We reach the front office, where a bouncer sits in front of a bank of screens, fed by the security cameras in each room. He’s supposed to be keeping an eye on the action, though our arrival has him shoving his phone out of sight.
Most of the rooms are empty, but one monitor shows a scene in progress. A man is bent over a horse with his hands in cuffs and a spreader bar between his legs. A statuesque brunette – not Sheena – is wearing a strap-on, high heels, and a thong, and she’s giving him her best.
David slows, then stops in front of the active screen. The sound is turned low, but the man’s muffled grunts still carry, although the woman’s low commands are harder to hear.
“If you ever wanted to try that, you know…” I let my words fade. I can’t read his expression, although the tell-tale bulge in his jeans hints that he’s not totally opposed to the idea. The woman reaches down and grabs her play partner’s balls, hard enough to make him cry out. David twitches as if he’s feeling the man’s pain.
She thrusts in all the way, then unbuckles the belt and steps away, leaving the dildo in his ass. Coming to the front of the table, she bends over in front of him and spreads her legs. He starts to suck her pussy through the thong and David makes a face.
“I mean, you wouldn’t have to play with a woman.”
Below, the woman pivots on her heel. She grabs a fistful of the man’s hair, jerks his head up, and slaps him, hard. She’s shouting something about how worthless he is and he takes it. She hits him again, hard enough to leave a pink splotch on his cheek.
I’m keeping an eye on the scene but I’m also watching David. He frowns, his gaze locked on the screen.
“You choose your partner and the role you play.”
He shoots me a puzzled glance. “Why would I do that?”
“Might be fun to explore your kinky side.”
That makes him laugh. “I spend most nights as the filling in a Tray and Connor sandwich. That’s kinky enough for me.”
