Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
It’s excitement.
Wherever we are, I have no choice in the matter. Plausible deniability, I think they call it.
The chauffeur swings open the back door. Jeremy launches himself out into the night air and extends both hands back inside. One for me, one for Anna.
"Come on, girls. It's time to get our freak on."
CHAPTER 2
Rye
"Iguess Kink or Dare night has become a good little profit center for our newest establishment."
I fold my hands in front of my chin, elbows perched on the chrome and glass desk I’m sitting behind. “
Leo, one of my partners in the club and event segment of my investment business, sits across from me, nodding, his dark hair slicked back into a helmet, hands cupped behind his head as he stretches out in the black leather chair, knees wide.
"I told you, Kink or Dare works, especially with the newbies. You gotta give people a reason to come in. And we need a constant flow of new people. Kink ebbs and flows. You lose people every month who decide to put their fetishes on ice for whatever reason. Overall membership in most clubs was down by five percent last year. A lotta people won’t admit they're kinky, but everybody is. So, you make it into a game. Everybody wants to gamify fucking everything these days." He smiles, his gold incisor flashing in the LEDs glowing behind the molding that lines the edges of the ceiling in the club's main office.
I've invested in many clubs over the years. Hole-in-the-wall pubs, back when I first started, all the way up to massive BDSM and kink spaces, upscale bars and event venues. Even some underground fight clubs. My money has returned to me a thousandfold, and I get to not sit in a fucking office for a living.
Win fucking win.
I have one foot in the civilized world, while the other gets to keep dancing in the darkness where my heart is most comfortable.
The wall behind Leo is covered with monitors showing different areas and angles of the club, even the parts few dare to enter. Club Echo serves the kinky world, but ultimately, I'm here for the money. Cash is my king, if I'm being honest. And when you provide fully tiled rooms that can be hosed down with high-powered water after a scene, I think there's a sizable portion of this country that has no idea what some people will consent to having done to them. Or doing to others.
I don't judge. Everybody's fucked up. Everyone has something that turns them on they wouldn’t like exposed to the world.
"You going to come out on the floor tonight?" Leo stretches his arms overhead and pushes up out of his chair, spinning as he runs a hand over the top of his hair, checking the monitors where a few regulars are finishing up their scenes.
On newbie nights, we dial back the more extreme elements. But when someone offers three times the hourly rate to use one of the special rooms, it's hard to say no.
I clear my throat and knock the side of my fist against my lips. My mind is not in the game tonight. But I need to focus. There's work to do.
"Yeah. I'll be out there. Somebody's got to keep an eye on all you fucktards who lose your heads the second a fresh meat walks in."
Leo shoots me a hard look. "I'm poly, man, what can I say? I like variety, but I'm totally upfront about it with my girls. You'd be surprised how many of them want a Daddy and don't mind how many other littles are part of the group home." He lets out a dark chuckle.
I push up from the desk, rolling my head around on my neck.
The only little I'd want in my life is a completely off-limits, fucked-up fantasy. It’s my niece who tortures me day and night. She turned eighteen this year, and I think my dick celebrated her birthday by getting hard and staying hard for twenty-four hours straight.
Now, because my identical twin brother, who is, honestly, the more upright of the two of us, ended up getting his ass in a serious pickle and had to be flown out to San Diego for some HR-approved rehab situation so the school where he’s the vice-principle can cover their ass, and because image means more to him and his wife than dealing with real business, guess who's standing in for him?
I’m going to be driving his car. A fucking mini-van for God’s sake.
I’m going to be staying at his house. Sleeping in his bed. Mowing the fucking lawn.
I haven’t mowed a lawn in twenty-years.
But, the worst part. I’ll be sleeping right next to the source of my deviant obsession.
"Well." Leo gives the monitors one last scan before turning back my way. "Eight o'clock. Doors are open. Look at that, they're streaming in." He takes one more look back at the people coming through the door. "Rye, man, look at that trio. They look about sixteen. Are we not checking IDs at the door?"