Page 23 of The Handler
Going to the club could get us back to where we were before she went into protection. Amy needs to submit, and I need to reassert control—remind her of the trust she had in me, remind her how close we were to having everything, and remind her of who we could still be to each other.
But if she won’t go to the club with me, I’ll stay home with her. In the end, the submissive always has all the power. I have to wait for her to grant it to me.
* * *
“Tyler,are we doing this or what?” Cade asks while we chow down on sandwiches.
We’ve been working our asses off every day this week since early in the morning until late evening. It’s noon. “What are you talking about?”
“Buddy. The club.” Blake nudges me. His golden boy grin promises naughty antics. No wonder men and women fall at his feet.
I glance over at Amy. Her cheeks turn pink. Shit, she’s going to say no. “Well, uh, someone should stay—”
“We’re going to Pandora.” Stone takes the chair at the head of the table we’ve automatically left empty. His stiff demeanor allows for no dissension.
“Amy?” I ask because despite Stone’s command, she could still decline to go. Please say yes.
She scans the table. All six of us are staring at her like we’re waiting to see if Mom agrees with Dad. What the fuck? I left my balls in St. Louis. Or at least in the shower. No, I just need to use them for something other than nutting on her tile wall. I’m not going to let six Doms bully her into doing something she doesn’t want to do. “If you’re not willing—”
“No.” She’s refusing? She wipes her fingers on her napkin. “Iwantto go. But I think they have a new member orientation—a munch—you have to attend before they let you participate in an actual event, or you know…” She shrugs. “A club night.”
She knows a lot about the place for leaving the life behind.
“I’ve already talked to the dungeon owner and paid for our event passes. He’s checking with the St. Louis club. We’ll be allowed in.” Stone takes a huge bite of his sandwich. Guess the matter has been settled. We’re going to the club.
“We should call it a day.” Eliot checks his watch. “It’s a long drive. Need to leave by six at the latest.”
“Good idea.” Amy’s agreement with Eliot tells me she’s all in.
But that drive. “Should we book some rooms in Colorado Springs?”
“Done,” Stone says. “I got four rooms. Figure out how to share the other three.”
I love Stone, but sometimes… Four rooms and he’s the only one sleeping alone. Not that I’d leave Amy in a room by herself because it wouldn’t be safe. Right. Safety. Not the new addiction I have to waking up with her curled around me like she did this morning.
But as much as I want it, I’m not sure I can count on having it. When she finally woke up enough that morning to figure out where she was, with who, and wearing what, she was like a cat on a hot roof. I can’t help but smile at the memory of her jumping out of bed only to realize she was naked and the way she dragged the quilt around her and hurried into the bathroom. A moment later, the door opened, and she peeked out to ask, “Can you bring me some clothes?”
Adorable.
Eliot nudges me. “Earth to Tyler.”
The entire group is looking at me, and Amy is standing. “What?”
“Are you done?” she asks. Most likely for the second or third time.
“I’ll help.” I grab my plate and stand.
“I got the dishes. You guys clean up the construction and get us ready for Sunday when we’re back at it.”
“No rest for the wicked,” Alex says as he saunters away.
* * *
Club Pandora occupiesthe two subfloors of an office building. Do the lawyers and insurance salespeople know what goes on in their basement on the weekends? Of course they do. I bet some of them are members. The entrance at the back is painted black with a single purple rectangle on the metal door, a black P, the only sign of an actual business operating there.
We all clamber out of the giant SUV the guys rented when they flew in. Stone rings the doorbell and gives his name to the man who opens up. The entry is welcoming for a dungeon. Wood floors, red walls, decently lit. A curtain hangs about ten feet from the door, blocking my view of the space. After giving his name, Cade asks for the bouncer’s name.
“Pierce.” He presses his clipboard into the bent leg he has on the stool. A fake relaxed pose. This guy is prepped for anything and seems to have some muscle to back it up. “Gotta check your bags.”
