Black Light: Roulette Rematch (Black Light Series Book 20)

by Livia Grant

  What the fuck did they do?

  “Don’t say it. I know. I never should have let anyone else but you and your crew do the reno work.”

  Geo didn’t need to turn to know it was Elijah Keaton, the Dungeon Master, talking next to him.

  “It’s not bad. Just different,” he said, hoping his voice hid his disdain for the changes they’d made to the space.

  “Bullshit, I fucked up the rich private theater vibe and turned it into a glorified meeting hall instead.”

  Geo chuckled. “Well, you said it, not me.”

  “It isn’t as bad when we have the velvet seats in here and the lights lower.”

  “I assume you had a good reason to butcher, er, I mean, change it?”

  “Roulette. Look how crowded it is already.” He waved his arms around. “We’ll have double this many people in here by the time we start in twenty minutes. It’s been too crowded to get even half of those we need in here the last two years, so I decided to do something about it.”

  “Do I want to know who you had do the job?”

  “Jaxson told me to call you, but I took a recommendation from an old friend. You know H & H Construction?”

  Geo whistled. “Let me guess, Oliver ran the job.”

  “You know him?”

  “You might say that. I fired him. Nice guy. Just has a small problem with chronic over promising and under delivering.”

  “Yep, that’s the guy. He literally had a crew here late last night still working. I’ll be holding my breath all night waiting for a lamp to crash on someone’s head.”

  “Sorry man.”

  “It’s a mistake I won’t make again. No one touches projects around here but you and your crews in the future.”

  “Thanks.” While the DM’s assurances stroked his ego, Geo bit his tongue to keep from telling Elijah the job had probably been too small for him to mess with anyway, although he could have had the DM throw in a few more months of Black Light membership to make it worth his wile.

  As the seats started to fill up, Geo joined a group of dominants standing at stage left where the sign-up instructions had told them to congregate. He’d been worried he’d be the oldest Dom at forty-five, so was relieved to see a guy that had to be in his early sixties chatting with a couple in the front row. He was also happy to see he was one of the taller Doms until a true giant of a man stepped into their group. Then a couple minutes later an athletic dude that looked like a professional football player joined them, too.

  A tinkling laugh that sounded familiar took his attention up to the main stage where Madison Taylor stood in all her glory. It took a hot second to realize no amount of luck would be pairing him to play with Madison that night. First, because she was decked out as the hottest damn Domme he’d ever seen. If he hadn’t had the hots for her before, he sure as hell did tonight, which made the fact that she was showing off a huge diamond engagement ring to one of the submissives on the other side of the stage that much harder of a pill to swallow.

  Good for her. She deserves to be as happy as she looks right now.

  A guy who’d been standing behind her on the stage—who he’d assumed was a security guard—stepped up when Madison waved him forward, throwing her arms around him as she introduced him to the woman a few feet lower on the floor.

  Lucky bastard.

  He shifted his focus to the available women for the evening. Like the men, the submissives were pressed in a crowd, making it difficult to get a good look at any of them other than the basics—height, hair color, outfits, or lack thereof.

  But as the women shuffled around greeting each other, George got his first good look at the sub Madison was chatting with. The sconce lighting behind her made the highlights in her thick, auburn hair twinkle. She’d pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, making it easier for him, and every other hot-blooded man in the room, to admire her perfect curves wrapped up in the skin-tight latex hot-pants and bustier that lifted the swell of her breasts up perfectly for his crop. She was taller than most of the women and had a confidence about her that intrigued him.

  Tearing his gaze away, he forced his attention to sweep through the full group of submissives. So many beautiful women in one place and as Madison talked with Jaxson on the stage, clearly preparing to get the night started soon, he grew more excited to be paired with one of the women soon.

  His attention returned to Hot Pants, drawn to her, only to find her looking at him. Most submissives would glance away, shy about being caught staring at a Dominant, but not Hot Pants. Their eyes locked across the room, dozens of people between them as they shared an intimate moment.

  The lights flickered, bringing their short interlude to an end. Their connection may be broken, but if there was any justice in the universe, the wheel would be pairing him with Hot Pants in a few minutes.

  Chapter 2

  Harley

  It was with mixed emotions that Harley noticed the lights flickering.

  “Crap, I totally need to get things rolling. Jaxson is here to get started.” Madison stood up after crouching down at the front of the stage so they could chat. “Have fun tonight!”

  “But wait!” Harley called after the MC for the night, but it was too late to get her attention back. “Dammit,” she cursed at no one in particular.

  I wanted to pick her brain on the pool of Doms before the pairings started.

  She adored her good friend, Madison, and sure, it had been nice to meet the soon-to-be-groom, Trevor, but now that the couple was engaged, they no longer represented just friendship.

  Madison and Trevor had just morphed into work.

  Sure, Harley was honored that her super-organized friend trusted her with the most important day in her life—her upcoming wedding—but lines were now blurred. Worse, her brief conversation with Madison and Trevor had made her think about work instead of play, and work was not what she should be thinking about tonight.

  As the premier wedding planner to the stars, her schedule was already bursting at the seams, ironically with mostly repeat customers. That was the nature of revolving-door marriages in Hollywood. But there was absolutely no way she could turn down one of her oldest friends. She’d just have to work even harder to fit another wedding into her crazy year, but she couldn’t think about that right now.

  As a bonafide workaholic, it took a lot to get her brain prepared to take some downtime. Tonight was supposed to be no work—only fun and much-needed sexual release. It was sheer irony that it would come on Valentine’s Day, her previously most dreaded day of the year.

  “Are you nervous?” A petite submissive in a baby-doll nighty asked next to her.

  “Naw, I’m just excited,” Harley answered truthfully.

  “How can you be so calm? Aren’t you worried the wheel will pair you with someone super hardcore?”

  Harley turned to look down into the wide eyes of the sub who looked about to hyperventilate. “Take a deep breath.” She waited as the girl followed directions like the perfect little subbie she was. “There’s nothing to be worried about. It’s just a game. There are rules that protect you. Limits. Safe words. Witnesses.”

  “But… don’t you want to win? And what about meeting a new Dom?” her new friend asked.

  “As long as I get my itch scratched, I’ll consider tonight a win.”

  From the stage, the opening welcome started, thankfully breaking up their conversation. She was a freak of nature and she knew it. After her last disastrous relationship had ended, she’d accepted that she loved her independence. Unlike probably every other submissive anxiously awaiting to be paired up by the wheel, Harley didn’t put a lot of stock in the wheel’s rumored magical power for pairing up couples who were perfect for each other. She didn’t need perfect, she needed her itch scratched.

  Her neighbor was obviously not paying attention to the welcome either as she leaned close and whispered, “So which Dom are you hoping to get paired with?” The girl nodded in the direction of the men standing on
the other side of the stage.

  Harley had glanced over at the group earlier, but at the girl’s urging, she turned her attention back to the men preparing to take the stage, trying not to look at the one man she’d made eye contact with earlier. But as she took in the group of Doms, she found herself comparing each one to the man she realized she’d dubbed Daddy in her head.

  That nickname alone should be enough to avoid him like the plague. She wasn’t looking for a Daddy figure. But as she watched the men ready to file up the stairs, she decided Daddy might be better than Muscles, Doctor, Accountant, or Giant, and certainly better than Playboy and Grandpa.

  Finally letting her gaze fall on the handsome guy with the perfect amount of salt and pepper in his thick hair and groomed beard, Harley locked in her order for the wheel. The guy not only looked like the perfect Dom to her, but the fact that he was once again staring at her from across the room sealed the deal. She loved the fact that he didn’t look away. He wasn’t afraid to let her know he was admiring her, his slight nod in her direction confirming he’d picked her, too. Soon enough, they would both find out if the rumored magic of the wheel would pair them or not.

  ‘Daddy’ looked away when Madison called the Doms up on stage to draw for their order of spinning. Once they had their number, the first Dom stepped up to the wheels and Harley pulled her attention back to the stage. With each number that got called, her excitement grew.

  It wasn’t until she saw a small man she hadn’t seen hiding at the back of the pack move forward that she realized just how much she wanted to be paired with Daddy. This new Dom she quickly dubbed Babyface because he looked like he had to be around twenty-two, younger than her baby brother.

  She was self-aware enough to know she could be handful, and as much as she loved her independence most of the time, playing at Black Light was the one place she needed a man strong enough to make her bend to his will. While she’d learned the hard way she wanted independence outside of the bedroom, she had come to terms with the fact that sexually she still craved being dominated… overpowered and forced to obey. Babyface would fold the first time she told him to fuck off. And based on historical facts, she would be telling her Dom for the night to fuck off at some point since those words came as easily as breathing to her.

  Thinking of breathing, her inhale hitched when Madison called out the number five and Daddy moved into motion toward the wheel. The submissive next to her squeezed her arm, leaning in to say, “I hope the wheel rolls my name. This guy looks yummy.”

  Harley didn’t argue with her, since he really was yummy. Yet more importantly, nothing either of the women said would make a difference. It was up to the wheel to make the decision.

  She listened to her friend on the stage introducing Master Craftsman to the crowd in the theater. So, Daddy was a craftsman of some sort.

  She didn’t have time to consider his name because she was too busy trying to decide if she had really heard Madison calling out The Brat or if that had just been wishful thinking. Her gaze found Master Craftsman and he was looking at her hopefully, but it was when she glanced at Madison and realized her friend was smiling at her as well that she knew she hadn’t imagined it.

  The wheel matched us together.

  Before moving into motion, she turned to her neighbor. “Good luck with your next choice. Looks like I got lucky tonight.”

  She didn’t wait around to see the disappointment on the girl’s face. Returning his intense gaze, Harley finally took her first step forward. The victorious grin that lit up Master Craftsman’s face as she walked up the few steps to join him warmed her from the inside. He took a few steps to meet her, reaching out his hand to help her up the last step.

  Harley wasn’t short so when she was on the stage level, she was happy to see him a few inches taller than her. He didn’t let go of her hand, squeezing her to keep their connection as he led her to the second wheel where Madison waited for them. His grip was strong, which was a turn-on, as was the hint of calluses she felt as he lightly caressed her hand with his thumb.

  “Welcome to The Brat,” her friend said, grinning since the moniker had been Madison’s idea in the first place. “Are you ready to see what activity you and Master Craftsman will start out with tonight?”

  “Sure,” Harley said, stepping forward.

  Her Dom didn’t relinquish his hold on her hand as they stepped next to Madison. She tried to pull her hand free so she could reach for the marble, but he was having none of it.

  “I need my hand.” When he didn’t let go, she complained, “I’m left-handed,” yanking harder.

  In one second flat she found herself spun around and pulled against Master Craftsman’s chest. He dipped his head lower to talk against the shell of her ear. “Let’s lay down a few expectations right out of the gate. When you speak to me tonight, you’ll address me as Sir or Master, got it?”

  Harley’s heart rate spiked while her brain bristled at his heavy-handed rules within the first minute of meeting. She understood he was setting boundaries, but she decided it was only fair for her to give him an early glimpse into her own line in the sand as well.

  “And here I planned on calling you by my nickname for you instead,” she taunted.

  “I’ll bite. What might that be?”

  Only after he asked did she realize her error. “Nevermind,” trying to turn back toward the wheel. The last thing she really needed in her life was a Daddy, so she didn’t need to throw even a whiff of that idea into the universe.

  “Spit it out,” he demanded.

  She sensed all eyes of the crowd on them. Harley was no wallflower so being in the limelight didn’t normally bother her, but tonight it made her uncomfortable knowing their battle of wills was delaying the game for everyone.

  “We’re wasting time,” she shout-whispered to make sure he heard her over the buzz that had started in the room.

  His free hand grabbed her long ponytail, using it to yank her head back until she was looking directly into his intense slate-grey eyes. She felt his warm breath on her cheek, and the slightest hint of minty scent.

  “I asked you a direction question. Not only didn’t you answer it, but you didn’t even address me with Sir or Master, either.” He paused, letting his baritone voice and dominate glare seep into her veins, softening her before he asked again. “Now, what is your nickname for me?”

  Three long seconds passed before she caved in. “Daddy…” she answered quietly before adding a mere whispered, “Sir.”

  “You looking for a Daddy, little girl?” he asked.

  She knew that would be the assumption he would jump to. “No, Sir. You just… remind me— I mean no, you don’t remind me of my father, and I’m not into the whole little girl thing… it’s just your grey hair and…”

  Jesus, I’m rambling like a fucking schoolgirl. What the fuck?

  Instead of getting angry at her insecure rant, Master Craftsman grinned instead. At first, she thought he was mocking her, but then he added, “I see that The Brat seems to be a fitting name, but don’t be surprised if I call you by the nickname I gave you as well.”

  The smile on his face warned her that she may not want to know, but she asked anyway. “And that is?”

  “Hot pants,” he answered with a grin.

  “Aw, you noticed,” she teased back, secretly happy he’d admired the new outfit she’d bought just for Roulette.

  “Oh, yeah. You are a little hard to miss.” He paused, before adding, “And I’ve given you more than enough verbal reminders. Looks like Daddy is going to have to remind his brat to address him appropriately. Now, we’ve made everyone wait long enough. Use your right hand to throw in the marble so we can see what kink we’re going to start with.”

  Her soft “Yes, Sir,” came out before she could decide if she wanted to keep bratting or not. The small nod of his head told her he approved.

  Harley avoided looking Madison in the eyes when she turned and took the marble. She didn’t need to s
ee her friend’s face to know Madison was enjoying the front row seat to the couple’s meeting.

  Madison spun the wheel and Harley wasted no more time, throwing the marble in and watching it as it jumped around the wheel before resting in a slot. The wheel was still moving too fast to read, but as soon as it slowed, her heart took off at double speed. It had landed on one of her favorite activities.

  Madison delivered the news to the rest of the room. “Neither of you had it on your limits list so you’ve rolled Flogging!”

  She felt lucky with their role right up until her Dom for the night leaned closer. “It’s a great thing I brought my entire flogger inventory tonight,” he said, patting his leather duffle bag she now noticed slung over his shoulder.

  Master Craftsman pulled them into motion toward the exit steps. Harley weaved through the crowd behind her Dom, only stopping when he found them a small out of the way spot at the very back of the room. She was relieved when he pulled her into his arms with her back leaning against his hard chest. The position prevented her having to look into the intensity of his eyes, although it was an intimate embrace for virtual strangers. Thanks to Roulette’s unique setup, there was no time to slow play anything. Someone used to only vanilla relationships would never understand, but singles in the BDSM lifestyle knew they had started negotiating their upcoming scene the second she’d taken his hand on the stage.

  They watched in amicable silence while a few couples were matched by the wheel. As the groups of Doms and subs grew smaller, the reality that she was about to participate in Roulette grew closer. Glancing around the room it hit her just how many spectators there would be tonight, watching as the participants played, as she played.

  His arms hugged her harder as each couple got matched until there was no mistaking his hardening cock pressing against her lower back.

  They were nearing the last few couples when he leaned down to talk against her ear. “So, you still thinking of me as a Daddy?” He thrust his hips forward for good measure.