by K. C. Wells
A few pieces of toast later, Rob’s stomach stopped growling, even though he was still hungry. He went back to his chair and picked up the stack once more. As he thumbed through them, his heart sank. Phone bill, electric, gas, plus he still owed for the repairs on the car that he’d had to sell because he could no longer afford to run it. He ran through the numbers in his head, and no matter how many times he did, the answer was still the same. He couldn’t afford to pay them all. Hell, he lived from payday to payday as it was.
The envelope for Secrets still lay in the bin, and the harder Rob tried to ignore it, the more impossible it got. He was surprised he’d been invited, as he’d never had a membership because he’d never be able to afford the fees for a Dom, and no way would he sign up as a submissive. Still, he’d had to give his name and address to be able to get in, and for some stupid reason, had said they could contact him.
“To hell with it,” he grumbled as he stood and retrieved it.
You are cordially invited to attend the grand opening of Secrets. Come meet the new owners and see the extensive renovations. Complimentary food and drink will be provided.
Beneath that was the date and time. This Saturday. Only two days away. His heartbeat raced. I shouldn’t. I haven’t been there for months. I don’t need to go. That didn’t stop him from slipping the invite into his pocket, however. True, he had no money, and there wasn’t going to be any coming in, but he had the chance to go out and have fun for a night. If he didn’t take it, he would end up sitting at home, stewing about situations that he had no control over.
Rob did a quick reckoning. He’d need money for the train, but thank God for saver fares between Manchester and London Euston. Still, he didn’t have any spare….
He thought again. He did have the money he was saving to buy a new laptop. The money that he was determined not to touch, because he was nearly there. That—
Just do it. Don’t even think about it.
Rob had noticed something since Alex had left. He’d been balanced on a razor’s edge. He was angrier than he’d ever been, and right now he needed to blow off some steam. This trip to Secrets would serve that purpose. After all, what’s the point of keeping anger bottled up if you can vent it?
And that was another thing. If you’re pissed off and need to find someone to bear the brunt of it, who better than someone like Alex?
Chapter Two
ROB COULDN’T believe he was doing this again. The last time had been almost a year ago, and he’d been certain he would never return. But the urge rode him hard, and here he was, sitting on a train from Manchester to London, heading to a BDSM club and not totally sure of his motivation for doing so.
I just need a different scene, to leave my worries behind me for a little while and not think about anything but enjoying myself.
Not thinking was definitely a goal.
He emerged from Euston station and caught a taxi to the club. He knew it was expensive, but he’d done the math: he could afford one weekend away from the usual grind that was his life. The new laptop would have to wait a little longer, that was all. Then there was the money he’d set aside for evening classes—in what, he had no idea; he’d been awaiting inspiration. His life consisted simply of living in his flat, going to his job, and coming home. A boring existence, and one that meant every now and then he had to let loose, even if he couldn’t afford to.
Since he and Ella had stopped sleeping together, he’d been spending most of his nights alone. She hadn’t been his girlfriend, more like friends with benefits, but once she started dating Kelly, she’d told Rob they couldn’t have sex anymore. And the rest of Rob’s old friends didn’t seem to be as important to him as they’d once been.
That last realization brought with it the thought of Jamie, and Rob was quick to push that aside. He really didn’t want to think about that right then, especially in light of his destination.
When he got out of the taxi and saw the club, he was surprised. There might have been refurbishments inside, but there was very little change to the exterior of the building that housed Secrets. It was still so discreet, one wouldn’t know there was even a BDSM club there.
If he hadn’t been on the mailing list of Whispers, he never would have gotten the invitation to the grand opening. It was only raw curiosity that drew him. This place wasn’t for him. He wasn’t even sure why he’d visited Whispers in the first place, especially since he knew what went on in there. And a couple of visits had been more than enough. He’d seen them prancing around inside, all trying to act like real men. Well, they could wear all the leather they wanted, it still didn’t make it so, not in Rob’s book.
Once he got inside, another surprise awaited him. There were more people than he’d ever seen at Whispers, a mixed crowd, some older and some younger, people in business suits and some in casual wear. A distinguished man, maybe fifty, greeted him at the door and welcomed him before turning and kissing another guy. Something in Rob’s belly uncoiled and writhed, especially when the man—Jarod—called the other one “sir.” He excused himself and went toward one of the sofas, where he sat and watched the men. They smiled and nodded at him, and a few even tried to engage him in conversation, but Rob ignored them.
Why did I waste good money to come here? Did I really think it would be different? Better? What a joke.
When it was announced that the first demonstration was about to begin, he got up to take a look, unable to curb his curiosity. Then he saw exactly who had climbed onto the stage.
It appeared the joke was on Rob.
“Alex?” Rob stared in horror at his brother, and instinctively he shifted position, desperate to get out of his line of sight. What the fuck is he doing here? Then he noticed Alex was with Leo. That made sense. The two of them had gotten married, after all. Fucking perverts. It was bad enough that Alex had flaunted his life choices in front of his family, but when he’d left them high and dry, with barely a word? That was unforgivable. Not that Rob had any intention of forgiving Alex for what he’d done. Not when Alex had deserted him when Rob had needed him the most.
Not now. Can’t think about that now.
He pulled himself back to the present as Leo talked to the crowd. He couldn’t help but notice the way Alex looked at Leo, as if he could do no wrong. Rob knew better, though. It had only been five years since Alex and Leo had got together, but there was one thing Rob was certain about. Eventually Leo would cast Alex aside and go looking for someone younger to act out his deviancy upon. Then Alex would come home, tail between his legs, begging to be part of the family again. Rob couldn’t wait for that day, because even though he no longer lived with his parents, he knew their mother would ride Alex hard and keep him on a short leash.
I fucking hate him. If he hadn’t left when he did, he’d have been there for me when I needed to talk. If he’d been normal, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess. If Alex hadn’t fallen in love….
If. If. If.
All such thoughts fled his mind when Leo instructed Alex to drop his trousers.
When the first swat landed with a loud crack, Rob wanted to rush the stage and drag Alex away, but his legs wouldn’t move. He stood there, rooted to the spot, while Leo spanked Alex, the softest noises pouring from Alex’s lips. Rob was transfixed, waiting for it to finish. When Leo stopped, Rob wanted to heave a loud sigh of relief. Only Leo had other ideas, apparently. He pulled down Alex’s brief’s, revealing his rosy arse, and the spanking continued.
Rob gasped. He hadn’t seen his brother naked since that last time he’d barged into Alex’s room, but there he stood, in full sight of everyone, cock hard as he bent over Leo’s knees. He shouldn’t be doing this in public! When Leo was done, Rob took a moment to breathe, aware of how he’d tensed his muscles. But the show wasn’t over. Although Rob had thought things couldn’t get much worse than a very public spanking, he was proved wrong when Alex dropped to his knees, pulled Leo’s cock from his trousers, and began to fucking blow him in front of their au
dience.
Rob couldn’t take another second in this place. He turned and fled, telling himself he was never coming back.
The irony wasn’t lost on him, however.
I said that last time, didn’t I? And yet here I am again. Why?
Rob knew the answer. Because it made him feel strong. Powerful. To see these… deviants, strutting around like they were real men, to know that no matter what else, Rob was better than they were. Better than his brother, not that such a feat was difficult.
Fuck. He still couldn’t get the vision of Alex from his mind. He’d left Manchester to come here because he didn’t want word to get back to Alex that he’d been seen frequenting a BDSM club. He knew why he’d gone there the first time. He’d wanted to see what Alex saw in such a place, see what drove him to embrace this… weirdness.
Then he turns up on the stage. What was the fucking chance that Alex would come here? Why the fuck couldn’t he stay in Manchester? This was Rob’s place, his escape, his….
He inhaled deeply. Stop thinking like that. You don’t fucking belong here. You’re not like them.
Without a backward glance, Rob walked away from the club in search of a taxi. He had to put some distance between himself and the club.
VIC PRENTISS stepped into his hall and dropped his suitcase by the door. God, it seems like forever since I’ve been home. It had only been two months since he’d left to do a job in Greater Manchester, where the company he worked for had been hired to do a full regeneration of St. Peter’s Square. Vic had overseen the project. Not that he minded being away so long. He loved getting out of the office and back to his roots. Six years ago, he’d been the one doing the heavy lifting, helping to beautify the whole of England, on time and under budget. This one hadn’t been that much of a headache, and he’d had a few laughs. One of his old mates had been overseeing the job, and they’d had some downtime to go out for a few drinks. He hadn’t seen Rick in quite a while, and it was nice to catch up. The man was handsome enough, but he and Vic batted for different teams, and also had a different outlook on life when it came to who was in charge. It had been good to see him again, but it was better to be home.
Vic smiled to himself. Thank God for ruby slippers—or in his case, the lure of his former BDSM club reopening. It had been way too long since Whispers had closed its doors for renovation, and the last time he’d spoken with Wayne, he’d heard they were set to reopen.
A thick stack of mail awaited him on the hall table, and he sent a silent thank-you to Sam and Aaron for picking it up for him while he was away. His smile widened. I can’t wait to see their faces when I give them their gift. He’d spotted it in a local art gallery one weekend, close to where he’d been working, and it had spoken to him so strongly of his friends that he hadn’t been able to resist.
That would have to wait, however. The pile of mail was yelling at him. He picked it up and thumbed through the envelopes and flyers, wanting to see if anything important had come up that required his immediate attention. When he saw the envelope with Secrets emblazoned on it, it took him all of two seconds to realize he’d missed the opening of the club. Damn it. He’d wanted to see what the new place looked like, not to mention he missed out on the opportunity to see the other members. He wondered if the new owners would be able to revitalize the place and make it what it once was. He’d hate to see it close, because there were only a few quality establishments in London—at least as far as Vic was concerned—and it would be a great loss to the community if the club he’d joined all those years ago disappeared altogether.
Hard to think that it had been twelve years since he’d first walked through Whispers’ door, nervous as hell about what lay in store for him. He’d read an article in a gay magazine that had… called to him. The idea of attending a bondage exhibition at his first BDSM club had sent a thrill through Vic, because he’d often seen himself as a dominant kind of guy. In fact, two of his former boyfriends had broken up with him because they’d claimed he was too butch for them.
Vic smiled at that. In the years that followed, he’d mellowed. When he first started training, he wanted to know about everything—whips, chains, floggers, you name it—but nowadays his interests lay more in taking a sub out of his head. Vic’s primary goal was to help them reach heights they couldn’t attain on their own. He was well-respected, even sought-after, and became a commanding presence at the club. As time went on, however, he found himself growing more and more picky about the subs he did scenes with.
Except that was becoming a difficult task. He might have changed, but so had the subs. The guys who’d frequented the club before it had closed had been less about submission and more about rough sex with a bit of bondage thrown in.
Maybe the new management will change all that. Vic hoped they’d be more choosy about who they let in, because most of the subs there no longer held his interest. He knew there was more to it than the changing nature of submissives. He was six months away from his thirty-fourth birthday, and maybe it was that thought that was giving him pause. Yes, the sex was great, but there had to be more than that, right?
He’d seen several relationships take root and blossom between members. Some lasted for years, other for only a short season, but the guys seemed happy. Vic reflected on his friends Sam and Aaron. They’d found their third, and for the longest time, Vic thought they’d been perfect together. That changed overnight, though.
Relationships can be so fragile. Knowing that didn’t deter Vic, however. He wanted what his friends had, the chance of happiness with someone who reacted to him not just in a sexual way, but whose mind and body could be Vic’s playground.
Their mind….
Vic loved sex, because, duh. But there was more to life—to a relationship—than what happened in the bedroom. Or on the couch. Or bent over the kitchen table. Vic wanted someone who challenged him, made him think, pushed his limits.
Sam and Aaron were still in his thoughts when he pulled out his phone and dialed Sam’s number. “Hey there, big guy.”
“Vic! Are you home?” Sam sounded pleased to hear him.
“I am. Thank you both for picking up the mail. I really appreciate your help.”
“Glad to do it,” Sam replied promptly.
“I got the invite to the new club. Did you guys go?”
Sam was quiet for a few moments. “No. Aaron and I aren’t… we just aren’t ready yet.”
Vic’s chest tightened. He’d hoped things would have improved, but no joy. The day their sub told them he wanted to break the contract that bound them together had come as a complete shock to both Doms, as they thought they’d been happy. Now, the two of them refused to go out, even though they needed a third again.
“You need to get back into the game,” Vic said softly. “You’ll never find the person who completes you if you don’t.” Silently he willed Sam to hear him, to be open to the suggestion.
A heavy sigh on the other end. “We thought we had. Guess not. So, listen, not to change the subject or anything—”
Vic chuckled. “Oh no. Of course not.” He knew it was time to back off anyway.
“Smartarse. Did you have a good time up in the cold, frozen north?”
“Aha. Spoken like a man who’s been there. Yeah, I did. Met up with an old friend, but you know what? Dorothy was right. There really is no place like home.”
Sam let out a snort. “I promise never to tell anyone you were quoting The Wizard of Oz. All your Dom points would go up in smoke.”
“Now who’s being the smartarse? You know as well as I do that my spot in Dom sainthood is well established.”
That brought a laugh from his friend. “I’ll talk to Aaron,” he said. “See if I can get him to go back to the club. Just not sure it will happen. Neither of us has been keen to return to where we met Seb.”
Vic could understand that. Dom or not, no one wanted to be reminded of painful memories. “You will or you won’t. As long as the two of you have each other—”
Another derisive snort. “Yeah, you try being here when no one wants to bottom.”
Vic laughed at that. “You don’t tell anyone about me quoting from The Wizard of Oz, and I won’t tell Aaron you said that.”
“You’ve got a deal. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to be making pizza, and I need to roll out the dough.”
“All right. Tell Aaron I said hi and let him know how much I appreciate what you guys did for me.” Vic would surprise them with the present when they next met.
“Will do. Glad to have you back. Maybe we can have a barbecue one night. Once the weather warms up a little, that is.”
“If memory serves, it’s my turn to host. As soon as I’m sure my work calendar is clear, we’ll set something up. And yes to the weather. I do not intend freezing my arse off in Arctic winds. It needs to be at least spring before I even consider taking the cover off the grill.”
“Deal. And if you go to the new place, would you let me know how it is? I really want us to get out again.”
“Of course. Have a good night, Sam.”
After his friend hung up, Vic picked up his suitcase and carried it to the bedroom. He opened it and tossed the dirty clothes into the hamper. Once he’d stripped off his clothes and added them to the growing pile, he headed for the shower.
When Aaron had renovated the house, Vic told him that he should consider the bathroom to be a focal point. Vic wanted a shower that would comfortably accommodate his six-foot-six-inch frame. A place where he could relax after a hard day. When he’d been shown the specs, Aaron had nailed it. A glass-and-marble stall with four jets in the ceiling that spilled out water with enough force to pound his aching muscles until they loosened up and left him feeling boneless.
