by Sara Brookes
* * *
Enver stepped out of the way, shoving his hands into his pockets as he settled in to watch Marcus as he smoothly switched into proud papa mode with the first official customers. The meeting he needed to attend was taking place in Kochran’s office downstairs in an hour. Plenty of time for Enver to kick back and observe for a little bit.
A dull ache made him roll his shoulders. Like Marcus, he’d been putting in long hours. The work had been exhausting but fulfilling—he’d been on a mission and pushed himself to continue until the task was finished. The results of that hard work weighed heavy in his pocket, waiting for the right time to present the item to Marcus.
A high, tittering laugh drew Enver’s focus back to the other occupants of the room.
The setup Kochran had constructed for the program was impressive. He’d dedicated an entire section on the second floor of the club to it, closing down several popular rooms in an obvious statement that the new technology was going to be a hit with the members.
Enver had enough firsthand experience to know Kochran was right.
Along one wall of Sanctum, a row of open cubicles with floor-to-ceiling partitions had been erected. Every surface inside the cube space had been painted various dark colors. Aesthetics weren’t particularly necessary since participants would be plugging into the computer system, but Kochran had worked with Marcus to create a functional but entertaining space.
A handful of larger spaces had been partitioned off along the back wall. Half of them had curtains pinned back against the outer walls that could be closed for privacy. During the testing phase, Enver had been present when they’d run a scenario where a couple could put on the visors and be intimate with one another both virtually and physically. Though that portion of the system wasn’t ready for public consumption yet, Marcus and Kochran had put some serious thought into where they believed the project would go and had allotted space for expansion.
The last section took almost the entire length of the room and was intended for multiple partners to interact as they chose. Saint, Boyce and Grae had extensively tested that part of the system, and from what Enver understood, it worked just as flawless as the rest of BLINC. Not that he’d ever doubted for a moment that Marcus wasn’t capable of delivering on his promises.
Enver smiled as he watched Marcus work at what he’d dubbed the command post for the entire operation. His focus was razor sharp as he introduced his first customers to the basic functionality. The love he had for the system he’d developed hadn’t waned a bit.
With that on his mind, Enver slipped from the room, leaving Marcus to work. He had business of his own to handle. Not in a rush, he took his time making his way downstairs. Belatedly, he realized his route had taken him to the lounge area he used to spend a great deal of his time in. Since Marcus had come to the club and monopolized his attention, he couldn’t remember when he’d last been through, let alone stopped to pay attention.
The black and white floor-to-ceiling photo still hung in the same spot. Bracey was still in his arms, rope marks decorating her skin. Unlike last time, Enver looked at it with a new appreciation. He no longer hated the photo or that it showed how vulnerable he could be. In fact, he loved that about the image because it reminded him that it was okay to show that side of himself.
He owed that revelation to Marcus. Hopefully he felt the same way and the conversation they were going to have later had a much different outcome than at the hospital. Enver touched the protective pouch for the item in his pocket, hoping that the rest of the night went smoothly. The meeting Kochran had been trying to arrange was finally going to take place, and if things went well, Noble House was set to move off in yet another direction.
So many things were changing. For someone so set in his ways, it was sometimes hard to keep up. But with each new change brought new experiences and new people into Enver’s life. Without those changes, he would have never met Marcus.
His cell phone vibrated against his thigh, reminding him he was now late for the meeting. With one last glance at the photo, he made his way downstairs and knocked on the office door.
Kochran’s muffled voice filtered through the solid wood. “Come in.”
Enver steeled himself with a deep breath and entered. Saint sat in his usual place on the couch, arms spread wide with his legs kicked out and ankles crossed. Kochran sat perched on the corner of his desk, wearing his usual three-piece suit.
The other occupant was a man Enver didn’t recognize but knew a great deal about thanks to a few recent late night conversations with Kochran. As he closed the door behind him and stepped fully into the room, the man stood. “You must be Enver. Miles Stormare. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Enver accepted his offered hand, noting the firm but still friendly handshake. The man was nothing like he’d pictured based on Kochran’s descriptions. He’d expected tailored suits, power ties, crisply pressed shirts and an attitude of impassivity to match that polished packaging.
Instead, Miles wore a cranberry flannel shirt rolled to the elbows, exposing the black and red ink covering both his forearms. Cream-colored suspenders that were obviously there only for fashion’s sake buttoned into the waistband of well-worn jeans. Shiny loafers showed a bit of age along the toe. His dark hair was pulled back into a short ponytail at his nape and his full beard was neatly clipped. His expression was open and honest, clearly prepared to make a good impression.
“Kochran and Saint were just telling me about the newest technology the club is debuting tonight. I’d love to see it in action.” Miles held up his hands, his posture relaxed despite the fact he was clearly on trial. “On a purely observational level, of course.”
Enver eyed Kochran, who was swirling his glass so the ice cubes clinked against the glass.
“Miles and I have already spoken about the, ah...terms you and Saint expressed concerns about. And he’s agreed to them all.” Kochran shifted, leaning to one side to see around Enver as he held up a closed fist, his lips twitching in amusement. “Even yours, Saint.”
“I want to assure you both that I’m not the same man I was when Kochran and I were together. He and I have talked extensively about what happened between us and come to an understanding that suits us both.” Miles rocked forward on his feet, the shine in his loafers glinting in the office lighting as he continued. “But at any time, if either of you—or even you, Kochran—are uncomfortable with my work methods, I expect my partnership to be terminated.” The blunt words weren’t accompanied by a snide smile. No arrogant cock of the head. No fidgeting to indicate a lie. “I’ll even tear up the contract myself.”
Jesus. This guy was so damn charming it was difficult not to like him, not to mention he had a charismatic sensuality that couldn’t be learned or bought. Exactly the kind of person who would normally be welcomed with open arms at Noble House.
As much as Enver wanted to dislike the man based solely on Kochran’s history with him, he got the sense Miles was the kind of man he could have deep, existential conversations with at a bar over cigars and a few drinks. In a matter of a few minutes, he’d been disarmed by a perfectly normal, genuine man who was sincerely interested in Noble House and what he could offer the club.
Enver understood why, and how, a young and impressionable Kochran had fallen under the man’s spell. Miles had put Kochran through the ringer, taking him as a full slave for a month before disappearing, never to be seen again—until now. Looking at the men standing side by side, despite their remarkably different attire, Enver saw similarities in their personalities. Though he knew Kochran was fully committed to Ezra and Maddy—a bond that would be sealed during the party later—he wondered how much Miles had unknowingly shaped Kochran into the man he’d become today.
Miles glanced at each of the men, a wry smile tipping one corner of his mouth. “Look, I know I’m coming into an already established partnership that works jus
t fine. You’re happy with that, I get it. I’m not looking to change things, but I am looking to make what you have even better. From what I’ve seen Noble House is one of a kind. I want to seize that potential and use it to make something even more special. I believe the club is just the beginning.”
“How so?” Saint asked, a touch of skepticism coloring his voice. “What kind of markets do you see us expanding into that we can’t do without you?”
“Ah, that’s the multimillion-dollar question we’re going to discuss in depth.” Miles rubbed his hands together, his brown eyes shining with excitement. He pulled a slender tie clip he’d had pinned to his shirt placket and wiggled it. “This is a USB full of ideas I’ve got for expansion that I believe will take Noble House further than the three of you have ever imagined. I’m ready to start laying down the details and get rolling with whatever we come up with. I understand there’s a party later you need to get to so I suggest we get the ball rolling.”
The three men looked at one another.
“Sorry to say,” Enver said dryly, “he sells a good game and I’m interested in playing along to see what the four of us are capable of.” He glanced over at Saint, and then at Kochran. “Don’t think we have anything to lose at this point since he sounds way more capable at this kind of thing than the three of us. Game if you guys are.”
Kochran drew himself to his full height and smiled. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Thirty
The once-dark, relatively unused basement of Noble House had been transformed into a glittering display of chrome, glass and black leather. Members filled every inch of available space, eager to find out what Master Kochran intended to announce.
“I will.”
Enver turned his focus back to the handful of people he stood with in the corner under an arch of black, white and silver balloons. He’d missed what the officiant had said that garnered the response from Ezra, but most of these commitment ceremonies were all the same.
He hated the monkey suit he’d been required to wear, but Kochran had insisted the collaring ceremony be a formal affair. Enver had to admit, it was a nice change of pace from the usual yards and yards of leather that usually dominated the member’s wardrobes.
The trio had performed their first collaring ceremony in secret, held in the Keep with only a few select members present. Enver had been to that event as well, but the atmosphere had been remarkably different. The full triad relationship between Kochran, Maddy and Ezra was out in the open now, so there was no need to be clandestine.
Kochran went to one knee in front of Ezra. He bowed his head in supplication, and whispered, “I accept you as my Master.”
Enver’s thoughts and attention drifted again as Maddy stepped forward to add her vow, his gaze scanning over the sea of familiar faces. Not that he wasn’t interested in the ceremony, he simply had other things on his mind. A vow of his own to make.
Just as disappointment was starting to well in his stomach, he spotted Marcus sitting all the way in the rear with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. From the even movement of his chest, it was clear he was asleep. He’d been pushing himself too hard the past few weeks, determined to make the second deadline for BLINC since he’d missed the first thanks to the kidnapping.
A loud eruption of applause snapped Enver’s attention back to the trio. Their curious gazes made him realize he’d been staring at Marcus longer than intended. Instead of offering his hand, he embraced each of them, saving the last for one of his closest friends.
“About damn time,” he said to Kochran, glad that this time he’d said it the words weren’t darkened by the death of Kochran’s sister.
“Quit your gloating, asshole.” Despite the statement, Kochran’s voice lacked any heat. “You know this isn’t the end of your duties, right? Need you to stand up as my best man in the spring.”
“Nothing better I’d like to do.” Enver had something else he needed to say to Kochran. “Listen, I never got a chance to say thanks for your help tracking down Marcus and Zoie. I’m... I couldn’t—I think if you guys hadn’t stepped up, I wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation.” Enver noted the crowd pushing around them, eager to offer their congratulations. “I’m going to get out of the way and stop monopolizing all your time. We’ll catch up later and talk.”
He turned away, intent on convincing Marcus to get some sleep, but his gaze landed on Oz. He looked tired as well, but Enver knew it wasn’t due to lack of sleep. If anything, Oz usually slept too much. There weren’t many things that came between Oz and his bed.
Enver detoured to where his friend sat at a table. “Hey, got a second?”
“Sure.”
“Finished your custom job.” Enver set a second velvet bag he’d had in his jacket pocket on the table. Given Oz’s enthusiasm when he’d placed the order, he’d expected him to pounce. Instead, the other man just blinked a few times as though he’d forgotten he’d placed the order in the first place. “You all right?”
“I...no. I’m not.” Oz snatched the bag and stood in a rush. “I’m outta here.”
Enver clamped his hand on Oz’s shoulder. “Sit.”
Oz grumbled something under his breath, but complied. Enver snagged a couple glasses of champagne from a passing sub dispensing refreshments. The ceremony was one of the few occasions Kochran had allowed alcohol in the club, but he’d also ordered an edict that no play was allowed by anyone who chose to drink.
“Yes, I know. I’m an overbearing asshole. Something is eating at you, my friend.”
“Leave it alone, Enver.” Oz downed one of the glasses and reached for the other.
“No, I won’t.” Enver pushed the flute to him, knowing he didn’t intend to drink if the rest of his night went according to plan. “You’ve been moping around like a toddler who lost his favorite toy for the past month. What’s the deal?”
“Fuck my life,” Oz said succinctly.
Enver glared, waiting for further explanation.
“Forgot how fucking annoying you are sometimes, Furst.” Oz fell quiet as he slumped back in the chair, his hands falling to his lap. “You ever think about what if the scene isn’t enough for you? All this sex and sin and debauchery. What if it...what if it isn’t enough?”
Enver didn’t think he’d ever seen Oz looking so dejected. “I take it this has something to do with that custom plug?”
Oz stared at the bag for a bit before nodding. “Yeah. Wish to hell it didn’t, though.”
“What are you talking about?”
Oz’s lips turned white as he pressed them together. Clearly he had something to say, but was hesitant.
“Christ, Oz, you look like you’re going to burst a blood vessel or two.” Enver leaned forward. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Oz said tightly. He looked like he wanted to say more, but clamped his mouth shut when a group of submissives walked by, giggling as they waved at the men.
“One of the subs?”
“I wish.” He ran his hands over his freshly shaved head. “Be less fucking complicated if it was. You ever thought about what you’d do if you were interested in someone not into all this?”
Enver sat up, taken aback by the question. “Depends on the person, I suppose. You telling me you had me make that for someone not in the lifestyle?”
Oz dipped his head and muttered, “Yeah.”
Considering how much time Oz spent at the club, it was hard to imagine him with someone who wasn’t interested in exploring power exchanges. It wasn’t unheard of, but for someone so dedicated to D/s and the club, it was uncharacteristic.
As Enver shooed away another eager submissive approaching Oz, he spotted Marcus on the other side of the room. He was no longer asleep. Instead, he was surrounded by a group of members. Judging by the hand gestures and the delight glowing on his face, the discussion revolved around
BLINC.
As Marcus spread his arms, demonstrating something about the program, he made eye contact with Enver. He gave a lopsided smile and a wink that warmed Enver through. In an instant, the truth hit him squarely between the solar plexus.
“Yes, I would give it all up for love.” He turned back to Oz. “A thousand times over. Whoever it is, you should tell them how you feel. They may surprise you.”
“It’s...complicated. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”
Enver swore he saw a pink tinge flushing Oz’s cheeks. He couldn’t recall a time he’d seen him so spun up about someone. “All the more reason to talk to him.”
“And I can think of a hundred different reasons why I shouldn’t.” Oz fiddled with the bag, stroking his finger over the shape through the velvet. “It’s stupid, really. I guess I’m just not used to feeling a connection with someone outside of this place. Can’t muster the courage to even ask him for his phone number, but I can have you make him a custom plug.” He growled. “I’m an idiot.”
“It’s not stupid,” Enver countered with a frown. “And you’re not an idiot. You just need to get past your own head, man.”
Oz scowled, scooping up the plug as he stood. “I don’t have time to get all googly eyed about someone anyway. Better off alone.”
As Enver watched Oz weave through the crowd, he remembered thinking the same thing not so long ago.
* * *
Despite the surge of people partying on the dance floor, Marcus sat alone at a table in the farthest corner of the expansive room in a much-needed moment of peace. Though he should relax and have a good time to celebrate the successful launch of BLINC, he was too much of an observer to fully enjoy himself. It was also the first time he’d had a moment to himself since the program had gone live to the members. Once Louis and Rachel had gotten done with their session, they’d immediately told their friends. The system had only been up and running for six hours and already Marcus had a client list a mile long.
