Page 8 of Beneath the Blindfold

“Where’s the fun in that?” I said.

It was a short ride to the Baton Lounge, but probably felt longer to Evie and Logan. After the initial uncomfortable moments wore off, it seemed to relax both of them. Like it did to me, putting a restriction on them made them feel more open. No pressure to do anything.Just sit back, I thought,and let me and Dominic take charge.

Maneuvering them out of the limo while they were still wearing the blindfolds was fun. As Evie stood on the sidewalk, I set the crown of cocks on her head, working to get it to sit right.

“Yeah,” she said. “Make sure it’s on straight, because it would be so embarrassing if it was crooked.”

I looped my arm through hers and urged her forward, keeping her from stumbling as we went in through the open door. There was a loud bang, a noise of pain, and I turned to see Logan backing away, as if he’d run into the pane of glass beside the entrance.

“Oh,” Dominic said. “Watch out, there’s a door ahead.” He grinned, clearly enjoying busting Logan’s balls.

“What the hell, Dominic?” Logan demanded.

Evie’s face contorted with worry. “Are you okay?”

“He’s fine,” I said.

It was muttered by Logan, but still loud enough for me to hear. “Asshole.” His hands searched, then grasped a shoulder, letting Dominic guide him.

The large room had tiered seating with tables, and a stage along the back wall. The woman just inside the door scanned the tickets on my phone, and didn’t seem to care about Evie’s tiara or blindfold. She did, however, stare at Dominic like he was naked. It was both annoying and kind of an ego boost. This stranger lusted after him, and could I really fault her for that? That night I’d met Dominic, I’d thought he was crazy good-looking, and time only made him hotter.

“You’re in the front row,” she said, her glittering eyes never leaving him. “Your server can help you find the table.”

Like it was really that hard.

We had our friends seated at the table and ordered drinks before we let them take off their blindfolds. “Give them back to me,” I said over the din of the crowd. “This is just our first stop.”

“Where are we?” Logan glanced around, evaluating his surroundings. “And why are Dominic and I the only guys here?”

He was right, the audience was ninety-nine percent female. I laughed. “Trust me, you’re not the only guys here.”

It was at that precise moment the plus-sized host took the stage, wearing a sparkling blue dress and a heavy coat of makeup. She strolled up to the microphone, brushed her long dark red hair over her shoulder, and gave us a sexy look.

“Good evening, ladies. I’m your host, Ginger.”

If the glitzy dress and overdone makeup hadn’t already done it, the deep voice was what clued Logan in.

“Is that a—”

“Drag queen?” Dominic answered. “Oh, yeah.”

Logan’s gaze bounced between the performer on stage, to Dominic, and back again. He had to be wondering what the hell they were doing here.

“I made a deal with Dominic,” I said. “We stick together tonight. This is what I wanted for Evie, and we’ll get to yours later. Sorry.”

The truth was I trusted Dominic, and hell, I trusted Logan too, to keep their dicks in their pants during their bachelor party. But who I didn’t trust, was other people. I’d had bachelor parties come through the blindfold club, and I’d seen things escalate beyond what anyone intended. Plus, the girl drooling over Dominic when we first walked in only affirmed my decision. It would be easier for him to brush off any unwanted attention if I was right beside him.

The show began. It was one female impersonator’s set right after another. Gorgeous dresses, fake tits, and tuck jobs that were fucking magic. They danced, lip-synced to Lady Gaga and Whitney Houston, and took tips from the female audience, who treated them to catcalls and cheers. The show was a riot.

Our men sat, transfixed. Curious, but trying not to display it.

“Holy shit.” It came from Evie when a blonde stepped on stage in five-inch heels and a mini-skirt. “He has nicer legs than I do.”

By the time the final number was over, we were all buzzing from our drinks, and uptight, control freak Logan sort of looked relaxed. Perhaps it was Evie’s hand resting high on his thigh, lingering close to the danger zone.

After we filed out of the Baton Lounge, we mobbed with the rest of the crowd in the warm September night, and strolled slowly down the block to where our limo waited. We ducked inside one by one.

“That was awful,” Dominic said, a smile twisting on his sexy lips. “The ones that were obviously dudes were fine, but the other ones . . .”

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