Page 103 of Stabby Little

"I can get hookers off the street to do your job for five hundred dollars apiece."

"Then do it." I jut out my chin. "See if they give my client the same experience. I'll wait."

Valentin tears a piece of paper in two. "Seven grand. I can't do any more."

"Nine."

"Eight and we have a deal."

I bounce my foot on the ground. "I'd prefer ten. I'm an eighteen-year-old boy who dominates my clients and drives them crazy with need. I know my worth."

"I'll do eight and a half. Don't push it."

"Nine."

"Fine." Valentin heads to my locker and retrieves my kitty gear. "You'll get nine thousand dollars."

"Plus tips."

Valentin slams my gear on the desk. "The nine includes tips. And you also need to serve drinks to guests during our shibari demonstration tonight for one hour.”

"Fine." I pick up my kitty ears and slide them on my head. "But if my client demands to know my true identity, I'm leaving."

32

GRANT

I shouldn't be heretonight. That's the first thing that enters my mind when I step into the Little Bunny Club.

After I pushed my kitty too hard last time, I regret returning. I should be in my suburban home, buried in work, finding out if the information the conspiracy website gave me was correct.

I also need to figure out what to do with the surveillance camera footage. I don't know whether to tell Michael I found evidence of Kobe's purchase or not.

”Welcome." A server hands me a glass of wine when I step through the door. I shut it behind me, letting it click into place.

"Thank you." Bringing the glass to my lips, I take a long, slow sip. My first impressions were incorrect—it's rosé, not wine. The berry scent enters my nose as the drink paints a tapestry of luxury on my taste buds.

I take another sip, drinking slowly, biding my time. I don't know if my boy will be back tonight. If he is, I need to be in the right headspace. I can't let my emotions overwhelm me like last time. Sex workers have the right to privacy, and if he wants to remain anonymous, I must respect that.

My right hand drifts to my breast and rubs the scar he left. Truthfully, I didn't even realize what he did at that moment. I felt pressure, but it wasn't until after he scampered away that I noticed the blood. He cut me with his fingernail, jabbed my fucking flesh. Revealing his identity must be a hard limit for him.

I don't doubt he's been through shit. You don't end up servicing men three times your age in a kink club unless people have hurt you. I'm sure some boys are merely here to explore their kinky side and haven't experienced trauma, but not my kitty. No, it's obvious someone destroyed him in his past, which is why he's afraid to grow closer to me. It wasn't until I offered to be his full-time Daddy that he reacted. He was fine when we had sex and he didn't care that I got extra kinky; I loved how he dominated me, loved when he ordered me to be his doll. No other man has ever taken control of me like that: he unleashed my inner submissive.

If he returns, I refuse to do what I did last time. I'll play with him, but I'll suppress my desire to discover his identity.

And you know what? I won't think about the special effects shop security camera footage. Millions of boys have blond hair in this city.

"Are you here for the demonstration?" the server asks.

I shake my head as I slip on the black mask he hands me. "I didn't realize there was one."

He leads me through a winding hallway and gestures to the show in the club room. "Master Jason is giving a shibari lesson. He's our most talented professional."

I accept another glass of rosé. "Thanks. I only come for the private rooms, but I appreciate the offer."

"We've pushed back the private rooms an hour. You can watch until then."

I furrow my brow. "I didn't realize that."

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