by Cara Dee
I'm not scheduled to work, but this might help. If Gabriella shows up, I'll have more authority, so I duck into the men's room in the lobby and change. Then I leave my belongings in my locker upstairs before I enter the main club area on the first floor.
A demo has recently ended on the platform past the bar, so the crowd is slowly scattering to continue their evening with play and socializing. Metal pours out of the speakers.
Mark is behind the bar in the Club, and given the number of people swarming, it'll be a while before he has a break. I continue toward the Cave, the area that used to be a restaurant next door. The ceiling is lower here, providing a more intimate atmosphere, and the walls are lined with scening stalls and contraptions.
"Kingsley!"
I nod at Liam, who's manning the bar in the middle of the floor.
"What's up?" I rest my forearms on the bartop and glance around the stalls to make sure everyone's playing by the rules. If I wear the shirt, I better make myself useful.
"You've been on hiatus." Liam sets a soda in front of me, and I cock a brow. "For the girl running up behind you."
I look over my shoulder and see Kayla heading my way. That little chick makes me grin. Too fucking adorable.
"You're back!" Excitement brimming over, she jumps just as I turn to her, and she's lucky I catch her. "We've missed you—oh, you've let your hair grow out a bit. I like it. When you did the buzzy thing, you looked meaner."
"I remember you were afraid of me in the beginning." I chuckle and give her a hard squeeze. "Where's your Daddy?" Nicholas is never usually far away from her.
"Upstairs, working." She makes a face. "He says he's gonna ground me, can you believe that?"
I can, actually. Kayla's a brat.
"What did you do this time?" I smirk and let her down, and she smooths out her baby-doll dress then curtsies as a thank-you for the soda.
"I didn’t do anything," she insists. She takes a big gulp from her Sprite before wiping her mouth with her arm. "Daddy was irritated at the kittens. Jackson and Oliver were playing innocently by his feet, and he did this!" She makes a choking motion with her hands. "Like he wanted to strangle my babies? Oh, I was so mad."
I laugh. "He wouldn’t ground you for being bugged by cats."
"Well, no." She squints and looks away. "Maybe I put glitter in his shoes."
There it is.
"I had to defend Oliver and Jackson!"
I fold my arms over my chest, grinning. "From a gesture?"
She scowls up at me. "Ugh, you don’t get it. I should've known. All Tops are on Daddy's side."
"Just how many have you told?" Christ, the girl cracks me up.
"All of them." She slumps her shoulders. "So it looks like I'm grounded tomorrow, which means I'll miss the munch. Totally sucks donkey—"
"I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you," I drawl. Nicholas and I are close since we're the only Daddy Doms in our group of friends. We have each other's backs, and I know for a fact Kayla's not allowed to use foul language.
She bites her lip. "I'll change the topic instead. How long are you going to let Dylan mope around in Texas?"
Can't say I'm a fan of the topic change, but her question raises one of my own. "How do you know he's moping?"
"He and Chelsea talk sometimes."
That’s interesting. And it pisses me off, 'cause then Dylan's also avoiding Gabriella.
Before she left the other day, I asked if she'd spoken to him, and I got a no in response. She's upset by it, too. They haven't argued as far as I know, so what the fuck is Dylan up to? He can talk to Chelsea, Rio's sub, whom he got to know a week before he bailed, but not Gabriella, his best friend.
"Then he can drag his moping ass to the nearest phone and call me," I say. "Unlike him, I'll answer."
It wasn’t my intention to air my personal issues, and I already regret it. Kayla sees it as a challenge and dives into matchmaking, something she's known for. In fact, she's the one who set me and Dylan up last winter. She firmly believes we're meant to be and speaks about life like it's a fairy tale.
I gotta cut her off, and I tell her it's time for me to work.
"You know I make the schedules, right?" She cocks her head and sips her soda. "You're not on tonight. Just…sayin'."
I let out a laugh and kiss her on the forehead. "Good to know. Go have fun with your friends."
*
Giving one of the other DMs a break, I fill in at nine.
No sign of Gabriella yet.
Rio's covering the Club area along with the Chamber—another playroom—and Simon's doing the Cinema, where he basically watches couples fuck to porn. That leaves me with the Cave and all its scening stalls.
Walking to one, I peer inside before letting the curtain drop again.
A little early in the evening to walk in on a gang bang, but all right. In the next stall, a Domme is torturing her sub with a fucking feather, making me shudder. I'm disgustingly ticklish, and I would rather get whipped than tickled.
Poking my head into the third stall, I clear my throat pointedly, albeit quietly, when I see a Dom and his property engaging in breath play.
He looks up, no doubt irritated. I get it, but we have fucking rules.
"All breath play acts gotta be supervised," I tell him. "I'll leave the curtains open. One more strike and you're out."
He nods in understanding, and I move on.
Half an hour later, I meet up with Rio in the wide entrance between the Cave and the Club.
"Busy night," he notes. "Good to have you back. You've been missed."
"I appreciate it." I lean against the doorway and scan the row of booths next to the dance floor. Everyone's on a fucking spree, it seems. People are talking over the loud music, drinking…and fucking. Personally, I enjoy at least a semblance of privacy. "Congrats on the collaring," I say. "I saw Chelsea's announcement online. When's the big day?"
He smiles. "We're doing a small ceremony in the Chamber the weekend after we come home from Mexico. I hope you'll be there, mate."
"Yeah, for sure." I nod, tilting my head at the exit. Where the hell is she? I suppress a sigh and refocus on Rio. "Speaking of that sub of yours, I hear she talks to Dylan." I rub the back of my neck, feeling like a pathetic schmuck for going there, but I won't stand for him hurting Gabriella. She needs her friend. "You don’t happen to know how he's doing, do you?"
Rio frowns. "Can't say I do. I don't believe they talk often." He pauses. "I spoke to him once—briefly. He called to apologize for running out after my play party without telling me."
There's a reminder I don’t need. Rio's actually the last one Dylan played with, and it's getting to be too much for me.
The bitterness is probably etched across my features, and I let out a hollow laugh and rub a hand over my jaw. Fuck you, Dylan. I'm done, which I've said before. Goddammit. Now I mean it. I'll be here for Gabriella instead. Only her.
Yeah, good luck with that.
"If there's anything I can do, Cade…" Rio's forehead creases in concern, and I'm ready to wave it off, pretend to be dismissive, except that’s when Chelsea shows up and kneels next to her Master.
She's a girl of grace and submissive devotion, though I've heard she's also rough around the edges and has a dark past.
"Didn’t I order you to stay at the bar, rebel?" Rio asks and threads his fingers through her long hair. "Speak."
"Apologies, Owner." She keeps her gaze lowered. "Permission requested to go to the bathroom?"
My brows rise, though I make no mention. Their kink is their kink. Several high-protocol subs need permission for basic things. They're obviously on the right path if they're happy, so more power to them.
"Chelsea!" Kayla skips over with a wide smile on her face, and although I find her approach much more to my taste, respect for everyone comes first. So I give her a look that says zip it. She has to go through Chelsea's Master if she wants to talk to her friend. "Oh, right." She widens her eyes and offers
Rio a sheepish expression. "I'm sorry, Sir."
His mouth twitches. "No troubles, love. You can accompany Chelsea to the bathroom if you want to chat." He addresses Chelsea next. "You have five minutes, then you return to the bar."
"Yes, Owner." Chelsea rises from her position, and just as she's about to turn toward the exit where the bathrooms are, she slides me a look I can only describe as bitchy. It's brief and dismissive—chin jutted, one brow cocked, a quick once-over.
I frown, confused, and have no intention of asking what's up. I don’t know her very well yet. In fact, I'm not sure we've spoken more than once or twice, and it was in the company of others.
Rio evidently notices her look too, and he speaks up without hesitation. "Oi, hold on, pet. What was that?"
"What do you mean, Master?" Chelsea stops and wrings her hands.
Meanwhile, Kayla's curious, albeit impatient, to talk to her friend.
"You know very well." Rio's expression chills, and he folds his arms over his chest. I'd be amused if I wasn’t genuinely baffled. "You're already on thin fucking ice for stalling. Think about that before you lie."
She swallows hard and averts her gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry, Owner. I would never lie to you. My focus should be on you, and I made a mistake by thinking about my personal opinion of Mr. Kingsley."
Oh, really? I fold my arms over my chest, too. This oughta be good, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it's related to Dylan.
Rio's mouth thins. His displeasure is clear enough for Kayla to shrink back and excuse herself to find Nicholas.
"Cade and I have been close mates for years, Chelsea," Rio says grimly. "I trust him. You haven't had the opportunity to get to know him yet, so I wonder what that opinion is based on."
Chelsea flushes then steps to the side to let a group of guests pass. The entry between the Cave and the Club is getting crowded.
"He hurt my friend, Master." Her confidence has already faltered, and after what she just said, I'm enjoying her fumbling. "I don't question your loyalty or reasoning; I only know what I know. Dylan left because he was heartbrok—"
That’s it.
"All right, I've heard enough." I clench my jaw and rub a hand over it, going from mildly irritated to pissed in a second. Fuck this shit. "Enjoy your evening." With a curt nod, I begin to leave them, and I shake my head when Rio starts speaking up. Fuck that, too.
I need a minute to cool off—
"Actually," I laugh bitterly and get in Chelsea's face, which so wasn’t the plan. Jesus Christ, what am I doing? For what useless reason? "Since you're Rio's sub, I'm gonna say this as politely as I can." I tighten my fists, and I hear it; I hear my mind yelling at me to take a step back and go calm myself down. Yet, I can't. I rant heatedly to a young girl I don’t even know. About personal affairs I detest airing like gossip. "I had less than two months with Dylan, and I did the responsible thing when I noticed how quickly he got attached. He was new in the scene, I got burned by my last Little, and I didn't wanna repeat—"
"Cade," Rio interrupts, "you don’t owe her an explanation."
"It's fine," I bite out, turning back to Chelsea. She's struggling to hold on to her tough-girl front. "Dylan lied to my face and said slowing down was okay. Then I found out it wasn’t, but he kept giving me bullshit lies. I was bending over backward to make that kid happy. He got to play with Gabriella, his best friend, whom he's now ignoring for no reason at all, and I gave him the goddamn puppy he wanted." I finally inch back a bit, and Chelsea's staring at the floor. I haven't even told her the worst part yet. "It wasn’t enough, though. He got it into his head that I didn’t want him, despite what I said, so he decided on a fucking whim to go to Rio's play party with someone else. 'Cause, hey, he was practically single, right?"
I remember working here that night of Rio's party, and at the last second, I called him for help. It'd been some Roman theme for the event, complete with games and a slave auction. Rio agreed to buy Dylan, because I could at least stand having them play together.
"I didn’t know." The music almost drowns out Chelsea's voice.
"Of course you didn’t." Emotionally exhausted, I rub a hand over my face. "Fuck."
I should've kept my mouth shut. Venting when angry skews things, and I fear I've made Dylan sound worse than he is. Everything I told Chelsea is true; however, there are circumstances, previous agreements between Dylan and me, and of course, shit I've done wrong, too. It's easy to blame him for everything when it feels like your chest is about to cave in, but when I'm clearheaded and not so damn broody, there's more to the story.
"Cade!"
I groan under my breath and throw an irritated look over my shoulder. I'm not short at six two, nor am I scrawny after seventeen years in construction and woodworking, but Dante stands out everywhere. He moves his imposing form through the crowded Cave and stops next to us.
"I don't care if you come as a monitor or a friend, but control Gabriella," he says impatiently. "If she wants to scene with me and Gretchen, she follows my fucking rules." He flicks Rio a glance. "Sometimes I miss Chelsea."
Rio smiles tightly, the previous moment between Chelsea and me not off his mind yet. "I'm not even sorry, mate."
"Gabriella's here?" I ask incredulously. Funny how quickly the argument I had five minutes ago is gone for me. Worry shoots up my spine, and I curse myself for not paying more attention. "Lead the way."
Dante nods curtly and heads toward the Chamber, one of the areas I haven't checked much tonight. Go fucking figure.
"Explain shit to your girl, please," I tell Rio before taking off after Dante. I stew in my own stupidity at having opened my goddamn mouth, and now that the damage is done, Chelsea should know the things I omitted in my rant. Rio knows most of it, thankfully. He can take over.
"I know you guys are close, Cade," Dante says, shaking his head, "but she can't act the way she wants to."
"Don't worry, I'm banning her ass." I have the authority, and I won't hesitate just 'cause we're friends. That’s not how we operate. "Why the fuck would you play with her again, man?"
She refused aftercare last time, the night Mark brought her over, so I don’t understand why she would approach Dante and his sub again—or why the hell he would agree.
"She puts on a good show." Dante seems bitter about that. Can't blame him. "I bought her remorseful act and thought a scene could smooth things over." He side-eyes me as we walk past the last scening stalls in the Cave. "She was gonna play with someone I don’t trust, otherwise."
I nod with a dip of my chin, respecting his line of thought. He'd rather have Gabriella play with him. I'd do the same.
We enter the Chamber, a hazily lit area with sheer fabrics, low couches, and an altar-like setup for pole dancing and wax play in the middle of the room. The Middle Eastern-themed space is a popular feature at Switch, and it takes me a beat to find Gabriella in the throng of kinksters engaging in orgies and sensation play.
Gretchen, Dante's sub, is kneeling next to a couch in the corner, her leash fastened to the wall. And there's Gabriella next to her, looking sufficiently pissed, cuffed to Gretchen.
"Good thinking." Now she won't be able to escape.
As we get closer, I see her clearer, and I can't fucking believe there are more changes in her to digest. She's gotten pink streaks in her dark hair, and unless I missed it last time, there's more than ivy creeping up her leg. Jesus Christ, I saw her two days ago.
It's time she learns I won't tolerate this anymore. She can't play me, nor does our friendship give her a free pass. Daddy Doms are generally known to be kind in comparison, gentler in nature, and she's about to find out what kind of Daddy Dom I can be when the situation calls for it.
When she spots me, she slants me a lazy smile and a little wave.
Dante steps forward and turns the key in her locked cuff. "Have fun with Mr. Kingsley."
"He's a sweetheart," Gabriella says.
We'll see if you say that soon, princess.
/> Dante eases off, and before Gabriella can stand up, I'm there to grab a fistful of her hair and yank her head back. She gasps, eyes growing wide, and stares up at me in shock.
"Apologize to Master Dante and his sub for fucking up their night."
"What!" she splutters. "But I didn’t do anything!"
"Apologize," I growl.
She obeys when I tighten my grip on her hair.
"Owww—damn it, I'm sorry!" she cries out.
I shake my head and grab her arm, hauling her off the floor, and I face Dante. "You'll be getting a better apology as soon as she's actually sorry."
"Don't worry about it, my friend." Dante steps aside so I can get Gabriella out of here. "She's in good hands, and there's plenty of time for Gretchen and me to play."
Nah, respect is big for me, and Gabriella will own up to it and make things right. End of. But until then, we're out of here.
Chapter 4
"Let me go, Cade!" she snarls.
I side-eye her, failing to reply. Now that I'm close enough, I see princesses from children's movies have joined the ivy along her thigh. Four pieces are still covered in plastic wrap, but she's unveiled two. Hiding behind leaves or sitting on narrow branches, pastel-colored dresses and sweet smiles have been replaced with slutty lingerie and dirty smirks.
Never thought I'd see Snow White in a corset that pushes her tits together.
Never thought I'd see Tinker Bell wielding a whip.
"You have no right to boss me around," she grits out over the music.
I nod to Nicholas and Kayla, both of whom are watching from the bar in the Club. Nick, in obvious concern and with a frown on his face, and Kayla, biting her lip in worry.
"Are you even listening to me?" Gabriella snaps. "You're not allowed to touch me!"
"Actually, I am," I argue mildly. "You signed a form when you became a member here that says any DM has the right to remove you from harm's way." Or escort you off the premises if you violate the rules.
She scoffs as we reach the lobby. "And that’s what you're doing? Please. I didn’t need any damn saving. I was having fun until Dante decided I was too rough for him."
