Taking Chances (BYC #3)

6. Lennox

6

LENNOX

C onnor exits his Range Rover, parking it on my driveway.

“So, this is the place, huh?” he asks, sliding his hands in his pockets. Other than the few grays now visible in his hair, he hasn’t aged a day since we played together.

“Yup.”

“Has potential,” he states, his dark brown eyes evaluating my property. He started investing in properties a few years back and now owns a couple of apartment buildings, all rent-controlled.

“Sure does.”

“Talkative as always, I see.” He snorts.

I roll my eyes. “Come on.” We enter the garage.

“Wow, this place needs a lot of work.” He looks around.

“Yup, and I’ve already gotten rid of a bunch of shit. At least it’s empty now.”

It took me three days to throw everything out. So to me, it seems much better. But with the paint peeling from the walls, water damage in one corner, and light fixtures free hanging from the ceiling, there’s certainly a lot more to be done.

“I can help. My work schedule is flexible, so I can make time in the mornings.”

“Oh. . . don’t worry about it. I planned to do everything myself.” His offer surprises me. We’ve always been friends, but I’m used to doing everything on my own. I’m not really used to relying on someone.

Ever since I was a young boy, I was a loner. Keeping up the ‘everything is perfect’ facade gets harder the closer to someone you get, so it was easier to stay away.

It was easier to always look grumpy and closed off than having to explain your suddenly horrible mood to someone. Without telling them the truth. The truth was not an option.

“Look. I know you’re not the extrovert type, but you’re a friend that just moved to a new city and bought this shithole of a place. So, I’m going to come, and I’m going to help. We don’t have to chitchat, we don’t even have to talk, other than you telling me what needs to be done.”

“Fine.” I obviously don’t have a choice in the matter. And it probably won’t be the worst thing to have an extra set of hands. “How’s the family?” Rina and Connor have been married for, I think, two years now. Though Eric’s not biologically his son, he fell in love with him as soon as he met him.

“They’re great.” His face transforms into a huge grin. One that I never saw on him before.

I’m not a fan of romance stories, but as far as they go, theirs is pretty neat. High school sweethearts that reconnected after ten years. Now married and in love, and frequent guests at Lace & Leather kink club where they often put on shows for an audience.

“Rina seems cool,” I note, honestly.

“She’s the fucking best.” Though I know it’s not physically possible, I swear I see hearts in his eyes. He’s a goner for her. “So, the club. Rina and I are going tomorrow night, you can join us for a drink if you want.”

“I still don’t have my membership.” Lace & Leather, or L&L for short, has strict membership rules and requires a background check and a STI test before letting you join, as any respected sex club should. It should all be done in a couple of days, but not as soon as tomorrow.

“You can enter as a guest in the open area. Get a feel of the place. And if you meet someone that is a member, they can take you into the private rooms. That’s where we’ll be heading,” he continues. I like how he doesn’t assume I’m straight.

I am, though I’m not a stranger to group play with other genders. Still, it’s nice to know that he doesn’t adhere to the heteronormative.

Yes, I said heteronormative. I read. So sue me.

“That’d be great.” We did visit a couple of BDSM clubs together back when we were playing hockey, but he was still kind of new to the scene. Today it seems like he found his place within the community.

I take him upstairs to show him the apartment and share my plans for it. “I’ll start with the bedroom and the living room, then work slowly from there.”

“Sounds good. I have a meeting in half an hour, but I can be here first thing in the morning.” I open my mouth to say it’s not necessary, but he pats my shoulder, saying, “See you tomorrow.”

As soon as he leaves, I start peeling off the paint from the walls in my living room.

Since I could remember, I used physical fatigue to deal with my emotions. It used to be working with my grandpa when I was little and continued into hockey, which was so physically draining it worked wonders in numbing my emotional state.

Now that hockey is done, I’m in need of another way to physically drain myself. Working around the house will help, but after three hours of work, I barely built up a sweat.

Hopefully, Lace & Leather will help with that.

At 8:00 p.m. sharp, I pull up in front of the location Connor sent me. The unassuming building doesn’t seem like a sex club, but that’s not out of the ordinary. Rarely does a sex club scream sex club from two blocks away. It’s also a good sign, alluding to the fact that they care about the privacy of their members.

Rina and Connor pull up a few minutes later. Connor is suited up in a dark navy suit, while Rina sports a short black dress.

“Hey, Lennox. Glad you could join us,” Rina says, pulling me into a quick hug. I’m not much of a hugger, but I appreciate the sentiment.

Her light brown hair is curly, her hazel eyes highlighted by dark makeup, and a subtle, black leather collar accentuates her neck. Connor is almost as tall as me, so he towers over her petite frame, and when he pulls her closer by the waist, she melts into his touch.

“Well, he won’t actually be joining us,” Connor jokes, making me chuckle. Rina swats his shoulder.

“Very funny,” she responds as we enter the black metal door, marked with an iron ‘L&L’ sign.

The hallway is discreet, the only thing out of the ordinary being two big security guys guarding a black velvet curtain. We show them IDs, and they let us in behind the curtain.

“You’re going to love it here,” Rina says with a smile.

We reach a reception desk and another black curtain. Connor pulls out two black cards and hands it to the attractive goth girl working the reception desk. “He’s our guest. And he’s in the process of signing up for a membership.”

“Can I have your name?” she asks, sizing me up.

“Cade,” I respond, and she checks her laptop.

“Lennox Cade?” I nod. “We probably didn’t get the chance to inform you yet, but your membership was just approved today. Let me check for your card.”

She goes through the desk drawer until she pulls out a sleek black envelope. “Here you go, Mr. Cade.” She hands it to me with a seductive smirk.

“Thank you.” I open it, finding a black card like the ones Connor and Rina have.

“You signed our NDA, so you know that the safety and privacy of our guests is our top priority. Consent is mandatory and there is a two-drink maximum at the bar.”

“We’ll take care of him,” Rina states. The girl hands Connor a small brass key as well, probably the key to the private room they’ve reserved.

I follow them into the bar area of the club. The area consists of a long, dark-wood bar, an interconnected maze of velvet booths, and a stage. There’s a male pole dancer on the stage, showing off his impressive skills and every single muscle in his body. Though most sex clubs have a similar feel, this one looks pretty good.

We sit in the booth closest to the bar, and I observe the club’s clientele walking around. Some of them notice us quickly, nodding a greeting to Rina and Connor. Some are sitting alone, keeping their eyes on everyone in the club, and some are already in intimate positions with partners—standing just a little too close to each other, sitting with their legs intertwined together or their hands not in open sight. The sultry bass music accentuates the sexy atmosphere, and I take a deep breath.

Here, there are no surprises. Here, I have control. Here, I can take the edge off without confusing feelings happening on the other side.

BDSM is inherently deeply intimate. The amount of trust it takes is more than that of a casual sexual encounter. Meaning lines get blurry quickly with unexperienced submissives and totally erased with regular girls.

“You like it?” Rina asks after we order our drinks.

“Seems nice. But I need to see more of it.” My shoulders shrug. “How was your meeting yesterday?” I ask Connor, remembering what he told me.

“It was great. We’re ahead of schedule, which in the construction world is pretty much unheard of.” A satisfied smirk appears on his lips.

“Great, man. What are you building? Another rent-controlled building?”

“Actually, he’s building the BYC a new building.” A soft blush overtakes Rina’s cheeks while her eyes stare at him lovingly.

“That’s the place you work at, isn’t it?” I ask and she nods in response, keeping her eyes on Connor.

She finally glances my way. “He’s building us a gorgeous new office space with separate spaces where the kids in our care will have their after-school programs. It will be a total game changer for our whole organization.”

“Wow, that’s cool.” It’s a gross understatement. I don’t know a lot about grand gestures, but I guess building your wife a whole ass building is as grand as they come.

“Yeah, he’s pretty incredible.” She smiles gratefully.

His arm wraps around her, his thumb gently caressing her shoulder. We chat a bit longer, and the whole time their love exudes out of them.

It’s so damn obvious. Her face pulls up into a grin every time her gaze lands on him and his eyes don’t move an inch away from her. Even with the all the half-naked women strolling around the room, his eyes never leave her frame.

“You guys should go, have some fun,” I say as we finish our drinks.

“You sure?” Rina asks.

I chuckle. “I’m sure. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.”

They get up and start to leave before Rina turns back around. “If you don’t have any Christmas plans, you should join us for Christmas brunch.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on a family thing.” Connor stares me down, fully aware I have no one to have Christmas plans with here in Seattle.

“It’s a friend thing. The guys you met at Factory will all be there.” She waves me off. “So, no excuses. I’ll see you there.” Connor smirks at my confused face before they turn around and head in the direction of the ‘Private Rooms’ sign to the right of the bar.

I guess I have Christmas plans now.

Shit, should I buy presents? I don’t even know these people. Even if I did, I’m not really a Christmas presents type of guy.

Fuck, I’ll think about it tomorrow. Let’s see what this club has to offer.

Showing my new membership card to another bodyguard, I enter the doors marked ‘Members Only’. Inside, there’s a smaller version of the bar in the open area, but the vibe is much less guarded.

In one of the booths, there’s a woman riding a guy reverse cowgirl style, her tits bouncing. Across, another couple watches them, masturbating half-naked. One guy is getting his dick sucked by another guy in the far corner of the room. There are also people drinking and chatting freely in some of the booths, undisturbed by the ones in ‘play mode’.

I sit my ass down in an empty booth and order my second, and last, drink, still unaware of my plan. The atmosphere is hot, of course. I’d be worried about my erectile health if I didn’t get hard watching people fucking right in front of me. But I’m not fully in it.

Two gorgeous women sit at the bar in matching outfits. Their nipples and pussies are barely covered by small triangles of lace, their stockings being held by narrow leather harnesses. The blonde one sets her gaze on me, licking her lips seductively.

My cock stirs at the prospect but my mind’s still uninterested enough to make a move. Fortunately for my cock, she makes the first move.

Shooting her friend a smirk, she gets up and stalks toward me. She sets her drink on my table, giving me a better view of her cleavage.

“Got any plans tonight?” she asks, her voice alluring.

“Not yet.”

“By your whole. . .” She sizes me up. “. . . demeanor, I’d say you’re a dominant?” I nod. “Want to play?”

“By the way you approached me, I don’t see you as much of a submissive.” I smirk.

“I can be whatever you like, baby,” she whispers in my ear.

“What if I can’t give you much tonight?” I’m being honest. My dick is rejoicing, but my head’s not in it enough to plan a scene.

“Let me just make you come.”

How could I say no to that?

“Show me what you can do.” I spread my legs, and she drops to her knees. She starts unclasping my belt, but I take her jaw in my hand, stopping her for a second.

“What’s your name?”

“Amy,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

“What’s your safe word, Amy?”

“Red.”

“I need a nonverbal one. Your mouth will be too busy with my cock.” I smirk deviously and she bites into her lip, her lashes fluttering.

She taps my leg three times.

“Good job, Amy.” Her shoulders visibly relax at my praise. I unbutton my jeans and my cock springs free, already hard and leaking. Her mouth parts on a silent ‘oh’ before she eagerly drops her mouth onto me, not wasting a second.

She sucks me off like it’s her goddamn job and doesn’t falter when I fuck the back of her throat. Shit, it’s been a long time. A few minutes later, I’m ready to come, but I want to leave her a present.

In the last second, I pull her off me and thick ropes of cum cover her lace-wrapped tits.

“Such a good girl, Amy,” I coo. “But you’re not done yet.” She raises her eyebrows. “I want you to find someone to fuck you with my cum all over your tits. Maybe they could lick it off you.” Her eyes shoot up while a small smirk plays on her lips. “Is that clear?”

“Very much so.” She winks and leaves to do what I said.

She deserves much more than I gave her, but I’m a hundred percent sure she’ll find someone here that will be thrilled to lick my cum off her. So, it’s a win-win. . . win, I guess.

And I’m really not in a place to give her more.