Kingdom Come

by Terri E. Laine

  I agreed. I couldn’t compare his paintings to Haven’s, but the detail from both was magnificent.

  “These will work well with the headliners in the show. This one”—I pointed at the non-landscape painting— “we’ll put in the back. I don’t want it to compete with Haven’s work. But we should show it.”

  As much as I wanted to hang them all, I had limited wall space, even with my floating walls. So after another look, I let Anderson know which paintings we would display for the show this weekend. Mentally, I roughly calculated the price I could sell them for. If all sold, for the first time in months, I could be in the black. My accountant would be happy.

  As I walked to my office, feeling a smile grow, my phone signaled an incoming message.

  Striker: Meet me tonight.

  He sent the name and address of a place I’d never been to but had heard much about. Flame wasn’t far from here. I was no prude but had never had a desire to go to the exclusive club. I might have wondered how Striker could be a member, but at the bottom on the message, he’d indicated it was guest night.

  His exact words were: You’re invited. Guest Night, Masquerade Ball, Dress- optional.

  The last bit was telling. The question was if I would go. The better one was if I should.

  Seventeen

  Connor

  I hated myself for perpetuating the lie that Striker and Connor were not the same man. A part of me used the excuse that Lizzy had stopped me from telling her, which was true. The other part had decided early on that there would be nothing more between us than a good fuck she wanted, so why would I care if she knew the truth or not.

  My phone rang, and I answered, “Speak.”

  “Aye, boyo,” Kalen said.

  “Brother. Mixing your Scottish and Irish?”

  He muttered something in Gaelic I didn’t understand.

  “Say what you want. I have a busy day.” Lack of sleep had thinned my patience. I had a feeling I knew why he was calling me. I had expected this conversation.

  “I would think being on top would put you in a better mood.”

  With my eyes closed, I breathed through my mounting anger. “I never asked to be king of the castle. You can bring yourself back to New York and I’ll happily sign over my duties to you.”

  Kalen thought of himself as the forgotten son. After his mother took him back to Scotland, Dad hadn’t forged a relationship with his firstborn.

  “Why would I do that when the prodigal son is where he belongs?” he asked.

  Kalen’s return to the US after Dad had a mini stroke a few years back had been my first chance at a relationship with my brother. If I’d thought we’d forged a better relationship over the past couple of years, I was apparently wrong.

  “I don’t know what Griffin’s said, but I’ve never lied to you. I told our father I didn’t want to be the next CEO, and he called you.” After it had come out of my mouth, it was too late to take it back. Though I’d meant to exonerate myself, I’d unwittingly made it seem like Kalen was second choice. “I didn’t mean that. I did tell him that, but he’d thrown it in my face that you were his firstborn.”

  When Dad had called for him to help run the company, despite their differences Kalen had come. What Kalen didn’t need to know was how Dad continued to try and groom me to be the next CEO. Kalen was better suited to running the company than I was.

  “Didn’t you graduate from Wharton Business School?”

  “Yes, you know that.”

  “Yet you’re happy with only being a club owner and not the CEO of a Fortune Five Hundred company.”

  I had other business ventures Kalen didn’t know about. We all had our secrets and I had plenty of them.

  “I am,” I said.

  “Maybe it’s best you get a taste of CEO life before you answer that.”

  “I don’t need to,” I said.

  “Well, I’m not coming home.”

  “Are you staying for the curvy redhead who keeps your dick up at night?”

  “That’s none of your—”

  “My business. I get it. I’m making the point that some things are more important. I know you got a raw deal from Da and he won’t be winning any prizes for Father of the Year. But he isn’t the monster you think he is. You could speak to him.” Even I was surprised I’d said that.

  “I guess it’s all a matter of perspective. You had boarding school. I had the streets.”

  Dad, being Dad, had left his first wife a destitute single mother because she’d chosen to leave him and not the other way around. One of the richest men in the world, he hadn’t paid a dime for child support until he needed my brother. But that didn’t make Kalen’s experiences worse than mine.

  “Yeah. You have no idea what my life was like. Stop making assumptions. I would choose your childhood over mine any day.”

  Kalen laughed darkly and said something else in Gaelic. “Stay away from Lizzy.”

  It was my turn to chuckle. “I know you would have preferred Griffin as your blood brother, but he lost this round. Lizzy doesn’t want him. She and I are adults and can fuck each other senseless if we choose.”

  “You’ve touched her?”

  “That’s none of your business. I’m ending this call, but you say nothing to her. Come back and take the throne or not. I don’t care.”

  Dressed in a Roberto Cavalli suit I’d had sent to my home last evening, I headed to my first meeting of the day. Suit delivery was one of the perks of being the son of Royce King. As a rule, I didn’t wear suits, but as acting CEO, I was obligated to dress the part. I had a suit or two in my closet, but they weren’t the latest. The men and women I would be meeting over the next couple of days would notice if Royce King’s son was wearing last season’s fashion.

  Lucky for me, the store had my measurements on file and the off-the-rack suit they’d sent fit perfectly. I had two more coming that would be tailored fit to me. I hadn’t bought more because I hoped my father or Kalen would be back to work by next week.

  By the end of the day, I was one hundred percent certain I had no appetite to step into my father’s shoes.

  My father’s assistant practically ran after me when I left the office a little after six. “But, Mr. King, you have—”

  “Reschedule,” was my response as the elevator doors shut between us.

  Though my father wouldn’t have left the office so early, I wasn’t his clone and I had my own business to look after. I couldn’t wait to get out of the monkey suit and tie when I reached home. I changed into my preferred leather pants and T-shirt and snagged my favorite leather jacket. The one I’d purchased with the first profits I ever made from my club. Though it had seen better days, it was a reminder I was my own man, not just Royce King’s son.

  I was already late for a meeting with Eliza, but it would be good for her to wait. I grabbed my helmet and was off to my preferred office.

  When I got in, I was told Eliza was waiting. I went to my office and sat before I called for her to be sent in. She wouldn’t like that. It meant all the employees knew she was on my shit list. But I didn’t care because she’d almost fucked us both. She’d been the closest thing I had to a best friend, and she’d shit on that.

  “Boss.”

  I glanced up long enough to give her a cool stare before turning my attention back to the paper before me.

  “Boss,” she tried again. “I said I’m sorry.”

  Anger burned brightly in me. “Your apology doesn’t mean shit when we could be dead from your stunt.”

  “I know.”

  “Really?”

  The word had so much steel in it, she flinched.

  I added, “Because out of everyone in the world, you should know better.”

  “I know,” she repeated with downcast eyes. “I just missed—”

  “Don’t say us. We both know that didn’t work and nothing’s changed.”

  “I know.”

  I was really getting tired of those two words. “I need
you to fully understand that I rule here. We are nothing more than two people who work together. Me, the boss, and you, the loyal employee.”

  “I am loyal.”

  We were finally getting somewhere.

  “You’ll prove it tonight. I have a guest coming and I need you to be on point when she’s in house. No one is to call me anything other than Sir. Do you understand?” Before her screw-up, I might have explained myself. Not anymore.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said with her eyes on her lap and not on me—as any submissive would do in a show of complete submission.

  Truth was, tonight, I needed all my employees, including her. I’d complicated things by inviting Lizzy. It had been an impulsive move. A dick move would be more accurate, because my dick was most certainly anticipating her arrival.

  “Get to work.”

  She had an uphill battle now that people knew she wasn’t top dog anymore. It was time for me to groom someone to take her place. Eliza’s mistake made me fully aware of the error of putting my trust only in her.

  There was much to be done before the doors opened in less than an hour. I needed to be sure that all the guests had been vetted. It should have been done, but I liked to check myself. I had extra security from Griffin’s security firm, and I needed to personally check them as well. I would have done so before now but working two jobs was eating much of my time. Lizzy was taking up the rest.

  Though I was pressed for time, I had no regrets there. What got me through was the anticipation of her arrival.

  When the call came, a wicked smile crossed my lips.

  Eighteen

  Lizzy

  The quintessential little black dress covered my skin, or at least some of it. The square neckline barely covered my chest. With the spaghetti straps and the hemline at mid-thigh, much of me was exposed. But thanks to the lacey mask, I didn’t feel completely bare as I walked into Manhattan’s best kept secret—at least to those without the money to be in the right circles to have heard such rumors.

  Security had been thorough, including a pat-down—by a female bouncer. I would have objected otherwise.

  I wasn’t allowed to bring anything inside, including my purse and cell phone. I’d been required to secure those items in a small locker like you might find at an amusement park. There was even a computer monitor to lock it with only my fingerprint. No other personal information was taken, which was the reason I hadn’t objected to that either.

  When I’d finally been allowed inside the inner walls of the club, I actually felt safe given the level of security. I also wasn’t as weirded out as I thought I’d be. The music drowned out any crowd noise, and many of tonight’s guests lacked much in the way of clothing. Some only wore a mask to cover the upper part of their face.

  I laughed to myself, imagining if Bailey had been with me. She would have been bright red from embarrassment. I had no such qualms as I moved deeper into the room.

  Spaced out were small, short stages with various apparatuses. Only one was in use. In the center of the room was the largest stage, and a man I knew carnally stood upon it.

  The man was ripped. How had I not noticed before? Shirtless and wearing only a pair of dark leather pants, he was breathtaking. What caught my eye was the long black whip in his hand and the woman intricately tied face down on a bench of some sort.

  A crowd had gathered on all sides. Even I was drawn in. Though he didn’t speak, he was definitely a showman. I found myself at a spot with a clear view of the woman’s bare backside as he flicked his wrist. The whizzing sound in the air was unmistakable. As if choreographed, the music had softened, and the crowd was silent with anticipation.

  The whip didn’t hit her bottom as I expected, from the pink marks on each of her cheeks. It landed between her legs. Instead of screaming, the woman moaned in pleasure. I found myself tightening my thighs in an unexpected reaction. For a second, I wanted to trade places with her.

  At that moment, I met a pair of familiar eyes. Even wearing a mask, I would recognize him anywhere. I froze in my spot as he made no move toward me. It became a battle of wills, with me tilting my head in question.

  When he glanced away, he walked over to the woman, whispered something in her ear, then nodded to someone off stage. A pair, a man and a woman dressed in black, appeared and went over to the woman. They spoke softly to her, stroking her back, before the man lifted her.

  I was so engrossed; I hadn’t seen where Striker had disappeared to. When I searched for him, I found him surrounded by a circle of women. One kneeled. He must have noticed me noticing them, because he straightened and walked in my direction without a single word to his groupies.

  It wasn’t as if I couldn’t blame his fan club. I was considering submitting my application to be president of it. The man had a presence that made me want him to do all kinds of dirty things to me I would have never allowed another man to do.

  “You came,” he said when he reached me.

  “Not yet,” I said, though I was definitely wet from that show of his. I licked my lip while letting my eyes trail down his body and back up. I had to bite my lip when I met his eyes, unable to ignore that damn sexy smirk.

  His chuckle was dark. The fact that I heard just went to show how damn close to me he was. “We can do something about that.”

  The man hadn’t touched me, yet I had to hold in a shiver.

  “Promises, promises,” I said, striding away with no real destination other than to make him chase me. If the man wanted me, I’d make him work for it.

  “Going somewhere?” he said, catching up to me and placing a hand dead center, low on my back as we walked.

  “Taking in the sights. Is this your thing? Whipping women?” I asked, stopping in front of what could only be described as a wooden cross. Nothing biblical. The planks were too wide. The telling restraints at each end made it clear what it was for.

  “It can be,” he said, reminding me of my question.

  I turned to face him. I wanted to see his eyes when he answered my next question. “Why here?”

  He leaned down. “You didn’t seem to mind being tied up. I thought we’d test our boundaries.”

  “Our boundaries or mine?” I countered.

  The corner of his mouth curled up as he held out his hand for me to take. In that moment, we were the only two people in the room. I had to admit to curiosity as I took his hand.

  That damn smile of his grew as he lifted my hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss over my knuckles. Then he led me through the crowded room. There were people in absolutely nothing but masquerade masks and others fully covered literally from head to toe. I felt the freedom of choice as we continued forward.

  I didn’t gawk, but I did take in the sights as we moved. When we got to a hallway, I saw picture windows showing rooms on either side. The rooms weren’t empty. From what I glimpsed, each had at least a bed and people engaged in various acts of sex. If he thought I was down for that, he would get a rude awakening. I wasn’t a prude, but I wasn’t an exhibitionist. Although I wouldn’t lie to myself and say the idea of getting caught didn’t thrill me at times when I’d engaged in sex in less-than-private locations.

  We rounded a corner. The lighting was even dimmer here. At the end of the hall, he opened a door on the left. I stopped just inside it. There was a bed in the far-left corner, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. Leather straps hung from the wall in front of me. Behind it was an odd padded bench with additional pads protruding from the legs, which I guessed were for arms and calves. There was also a place for one’s head to rest.

  I let out a nervous laugh. “Okay,” I said more to myself.

  “Anything we do in here is your choice.” He glanced toward the bed as if in challenge.

  His deep rumbling voice sent vibrations through me and I felt myself growing wet.

  “How sanitary is this?” I asked.

  His eyes crinkled in the corners as his grin widened. “This is a private room. Rarely used. Almost
everything in here is new, including the swing. The bed has fresh sheets, and the obedience bench is wiped down with Clorox after every use.”

  “Obedience,” I repeated because yes, that was the word that stuck in my mind.

  He stepped closer and extended his arm. The door clicked shut, and I stood there with a decision to make.

  “I’m not an exhibitionist,” I blurted.

  “There are no windows here.” He glanced around as if to make a point. “There is a camera.” He pointed at the corner above my right shoulder. “Your choice.”

  I looked up and spotted the camera. I shook my head, unable to speak, and he flipped a switch down. I assumed that meant the camera was off. A little light underneath it had changed from green to red. I felt like a teenage about to “do it” for the first time. What was up with that?

  He caged me in against the door. “Nervous?” he asked at my ear before nipping at my throat.

  I shouldn’t be, but I was. “No.”

  Trying to be the bold woman I knew myself to be, I ducked under his arm and stepped farther into the room before facing him again.

  “Where do we begin?” I asked.

  “Nowhere. Not until I know you want this.”

  His stare penetrated right to my core. I reached behind me and dragged down the zipper on my dress. When I flicked each of the spaghetti straps off my shoulders, the dress sank to the floor in a black pool of fabric. I stood there as his darkened gaze took in every naked inch of me.

  “I came prepared,” I said with false bravado and a wink—I’d worn nothing underneath the dress.

  When he didn’t make a move, I remembered the first thing he’d told me. I wasn’t his type. Everyone had insecurities, and he hit mine. The beautiful man made me feel small that moment thanks to the memory. I hadn’t realized my eyes had dropped until he was there with his fingers under my chin, lifting it.

  “I was wrong,” he said as if he’d plucked my thoughts from my mind. “I can admit that.”

  “Wrong about what?” I asked, stubbornly lifting my chin from his fingers.