Page 79 of Triple Pucked
My cheeks pink.
D’Angelo lays his hand on the door handle. “And my other friend who helps run the club, when he’s around and not undercover, is a sub.”
Surprised, I stare at him. “Really? That’s…”
“Yes?”
“Brilliant.”
I don’t know why I assumed that doms would be in charge. It’s just that a small part of me still believes Blythe’s mantra offuck up— that doms should take the lead even outside a scene.
Bullshit.
“It was important to me to have a sub’s perspective equally for the club. I want to make sure that we get it right for all dynamics,” D’Angelo explains. “Plus, Garcia is an incredible man. Only, don’t get on the wrong side of him. He knows MMA. That man is the silent, black cat type with claws.”
“Garcia?” Robyn bursts out. “The PI?”
“He also has a gun,” D’Angelo continues blithely. “He’s not here today because he’s away on a case. I never ask because half the things he works on are shady as shit.”
“You’ve never…?” I drop my gaze. “You’re all just friends, right?”
D’Angelo snorts. “Platonic, I swear. Kay is not into doms, and I’m not into having my balls busted. Garcia is asexual. He’s not interested in sex. BDSM is about the power dynamics and sensations for him.”
“What about your mentor?” I ask, carefully.
D’Angelo’s eyes sparkle. “He’s straight.”
Why isn’t he telling me his name?
What’s the mystery?
D’Angelo tightens his hand on the handle. “Who’s ready to step inside On the RACK and meet The Kinks?”
Then he swings open the door.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
On the RACK, Freedom
Shay
“This place is bloody incredible,”I breathe.
D’Angelo looks quietly pleased.
The vast club is low ceilinged like a luxurious cavern. It’s themed in decadent red and black velvets with chandeliers like dripping tears.
A gleaming dance floor is surrounded by poles.
A black marble bar runs along the back wall opposite a large, raised stage.
Crimson booths are hidden in the shadows opposite the bar and a stage.
My eye is drawn to the area next to the stage, however, which is filled with large wooden and leather equipment, which is lifted straight out of my dreams.
My breathing picks up. My pupils dilate.
Bloody hell, I truly have died and gone to kinky heaven. Or if this is hell, then I’ll happily suffer for my Lucifer.
