Page 9 of Gamble
“Lock this up, will ya?” He then turned back toward the entrance to finish his instructions, calling over his shoulder. “Send Sandy in to the bar with the paperwork. I’ll be sure he signs them with some blood before he leaves.”
“What the hell, Keaton? You didn’t make me sign the last time I came.”
“Yeah, well that was back on a slow Wednesday night right after we opened, if I remember. Things are different around here these days.”
The ruckus that met their ears as they got into the crowded social area did a fine job of making his point. Every seat was taken and several small groups stood milling about, prompting a low whistle from Crawford.
“I’d say things are different. Last time I was here, I was worried the club would never make it. There must be a lot of kinky fuckers in L.A. after all.”
Elijah chuckled, “You don’t know the half of it, although the bar does a steady business of guests who don’t even play in the club.”
“They come for the cheap booze?”
“Hardly. Our markup is insane. We’re just the only gig in town that is exclusive to vetted members who also sign NDAs.”
“So… what happens at Black Light stays at Black Light?” Kent said as the men watched a famously married celebrity kissing someone who was not his spouse in the corner booth.
“Something like that,” Elijah answered. “Hence the need for you to sign said NDA.”
Inspecting the friend he hadn’t seen in over a year, Elijah razzed him. “You’re rocking the long hair look. You body doubling for women now?”
Considering the guy was six-four and had done stunts for Schwarzenegger and Stallone in the past, it was meant as a dig.
“Smartass. I told you last time we talked, I got a long-term gig working on the newest MC series for Netflix. Growing my hair out saves me time in make-up.”
“If you say so.”
“Hey, it’s not like you’re Mr. Clean-cut these days. You look like you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.”
Crawford and his damn Texas ranch idioms.
“Yeah, well after twenty-one broken bones, a dozen surgeries, and countless stitches, what did you expect?”
The last thing he wanted to talk about was how old he’d felt, especially since his recent outing doing something as tame as golfing.
Turning his attention to his head bartender, he shouted over the music and conversations to get Suzi’s attention. “Hey, save me the next two seats at the bar when they open up, will you?”
She didn’t break a stride, juggling the two tasks she was already handling as she nodded her acknowledgment.
He turned to his buddy. “Come on. I’ll give you the ten-cent tour while we wait for a seat.”
As always, the noise level went up the second they were beyond the heavy velvet curtain separating the social bar from the business end of the BDSM club. They traded in the sounds of laughter and clinking glassware, replaced with groans of pleasure and pain.
As with most Saturday nights, almost every platform had a sexy scene in action while spectators filled the couches, loveseats, and walkways. A quick inventory confirmed his dungeon monitors were all stationed where they were assigned.
“Wow, you’ve got a good thing going here, Keaton. Not everyone gets to be surrounded by the rich and famous playing out their kinkiest fantasies when they go to work.”
“Tell me about it. I always thought being a stuntman was the best career a guy could have. I found out I was wrong.”
With the pounding music, it was too loud for the old friends to carry on much of a conversation. Elijah let Kent take the lead, winding through the main floor, past the pool full of nudebathers, and along the back corridor of specialty rooms at his own pace.
Since he knew his friend so well, he wasn’t surprised Kent didn’t spend much time on the breath play or Shibari scenes. They zipped right by the cops and robbers role play and the Game of Thrones torture scene.
It wasn’t until they stood outside the classroom, peering in through the observation window at the naughty girl’s bare ass being spanked with a wooden paddle, that Crawford lingered.
He’d always been a traditionalist—in everything from his food choices, clothing, cars, and even relationships with women. They were close enough friends that Elijah even knew it was that desire for a more traditional marriage that had ended with his friend in divorce court.
They stood as voyeurs, watching until the scene concluded with the punished little lady paying penance on her knees, her Dom’s cock choking off her air supply until he came down her throat. Only after the others gathered around the window to watch dispersed did Elijah ask.
