Arabian Fetish Night
14
F etish night had finally arrived. Gage couldn’t help feeling on edge, even with extra security stationed in every corner on every floor. As soon as Cole arrived, they would head up to the lounge. He wanted to be on the floor to monitor everything—especially Brynne.
Paperwork remained unread on his desk as he watched her on the video monitor. God help him. She looked more stunning than he could have imagined in her harem outfit. She was laughing and flirting with the patrons. The timid girl was gone. Now when someone tried to take liberties, she laughed and swatted away their wandering hands.
So much for devising ways he could push her buttons. Instead of scaring her off, she met his challenges and managed to turn the tables on him. They hadn’t spoken since she flew out of his office on Thursday. He knew he’d been contradictory, drawing her in, then pushing her away. Why couldn’t he stay away from her?
Last night Cole teased him about his fascination with Brynne. Part of him wished he wasn’t coming to the party tonight. The tall Texan had an effortless charm and charisma that attracted women like bees to honey. Together with Aaron, they had been quite the team during university. Work first, women second, sleep third. They spent countless sleepless nights perfecting a software program to detect anomalies, fraud, and patterns in trading. The results of their hard work led to a patent which set them up for the rest of their lives. Cole invested in oil and gas and commercial property development. Aaron built a New York-based VC firm and invested in real estate, publishing, and broadcasting. His own VC firm had netted strong profits since he founded it seven years ago.
During dinner, he finally told Cole what happened with Sierra, and how much it had affected him. He was no longer interested in trying to find a suitable girlfriend, especially one that his mother approved of. They were all looking for money, social standing, and a big house in Mayfair. No, thank you. He was content to stoke the fires of his inherent distrust of women.
Cole suggested he find another outlet, even if it meant hiring a professional or going to Germany to get back into the club scene. When he admitted he hadn’t had sex since breaking it off with Sierra, Cole nearly choked on his drink.
It was galling but true—he hadn’t hooked up with anyone or sought any revenge sex. He tried to convince Cole he couldn’t go fucking his way around London when his mother was up for a judicial appointment. A mocking face stared back at him.
“That’s a lame excuse. Good thing I’m here to rescue you. And thanks to your wonderful assistant Fiona, we have the jet booked to Berlin tomorrow afternoon. Garrick can run this joint for a few days.” Then he told him, “It’s only been five days and my balls need emptying.”
Gage knew he was right. The trip was exactly what he needed.
Cole texted ten minutes later that his car was pulling up. Gage told him to have Miles bring him to his office. He wanted to show him his latest artwork, which now hung over the fireplace. Anyone who stood at the door to his office wouldn’t see it. Only those allowed into the inner sanctum would get the full impact.
When he arrived, Gage handed him a glass of scotch and suggested he take a seat while he finished up an email.
Cole raised his glass. “Cheers, my friend. Take your time.” He sat on the long leather couch that faced the fireplace and Gage watched him as he took in the view.
“Jesus H Christopher, where did you get these?” He rose and went over so he could study them more closely. “Fucking stunning. Where can I order some? Who is the photographer?” He turned to Gage. “And who is she ?”
Gage laughed. “I’ll give you the number of the studio; the photographer works here part time. I’ve seen the model before, but not like this. These are one of a kind.”
“That is some serious ropework. Makes me itchy to play.”
“If you want to play tonight, I can arrange it. I’m sure there are a few subs with room on their dance card.”
His friend downed the rest of his drink. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go upstairs so you can introduce me to your little redhead. I’m dying to see who’s got your dick in a twist.”
Gage’s jaw clenched.
Cole looked at him with mock innocence. “What’s the matter, Mack? You can’t have your wicked way with her. She’s your employee, but there are no such rules where I’m concerned.”
Gage gripped the glass in his hand. “She is off limits.”
“You’re no fun and I am. She’ll recognize that right away. That must be what worries you.” Cole chuckled as they went upstairs.
“Not worried. She’s not your type.”
“Really? What is my type?”
“You always went for the tall, athletic blondes at school and at the clubs. Brynne is none of those.”
“Maybe I’m due for a change.”
“Keep it up, mate. I can still throw you out of my club.”
Cole slapped him on the back and winked. “I’d like to see you try.”
They entered through the main doors of the bar and took in the scene. Most of the chairs on the right side of the lounge had been replaced with low curved couches, with multi-colored pillows in bright orange, purple, and green silk. Low round tables sat in front of each seating area and colorful Persian rugs covered the dark hardwood. The lighting was muted, accented by dozens of flameless candles. The scent of sandalwood and patchouli incense wafted from each corner of the room.
Gage pointed to an empty table near the bookcases, where they could see the entire room. “Have a seat there, Cole. I need to talk to the bartender. What are you drinking?”
“I’ll have a Jack and Coke.”
Gage made his way across the crowded room, his eyes searching for the harem girl in purple. Bill was finishing an order when Gage signaled to him. “How are things going so far?”
The gray-haired man grinned and nodded. “So far, so good. Although the night is young.”
“Damn true. I’ll have a Macallan 18, and my friend will have a Jack Daniels and Coke on the rocks.” He scanned the room again. “Has Dimitri shown up yet?”
“Not yet, but he called ahead to ensure he gets his usual table in the corner, and he demanded that Tink look after him.”
“Aye. I figured. Have her bring the drinks over. We’re by the wall over there.”
“Will do, boss.”
Gage sat down and briefed him on Dimitri. “This Russian prick has been pursuing her—pressing her hard to go out with him. She swears she can handle him, but I’m not so sure. He’s got a reputation for being ruthless and he found out a few months ago that without my political connections, he would have won the bid and opened his own club here. I wish I’d never allowed him to become a member.”
“Where is this no-good swine?” Cole sat forward, looking around the room.
“Not here yet.” Gage saw Brynne approaching with their drinks. “Now behave yourself.”
Cole looked up and grinned. “I always do…” He stopped midsentence when Brynne reached them.
“Good evening, gentlemen. I believe this is for you.” She handed Cole his drink and bent down to place a cocktail napkin on the table.
Gage attempted a casual smile when she nodded shyly at him. His voice froze in his throat. She was a vision. Multiple layers of lavender chiffon swished around her legs when she walked. He’d heard the jingling of her decorative belt, with its dangling coins. The bikini top left nothing to the imagination. It shimmered with beads and crystals sewn into the purple material. He wanted to toss her over his shoulder and walk out of there.
Cole interrupted, “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Mack?”
Clearing his throat, Gage took his drink and pretended a calm he didn’t feel. “Of course, Brynne, I’d—” Her eyes widened at his use of her real name.
Christ, that was stupid. He checked their surroundings. The only person within earshot was a security guard standing a few feet away.
“Right, I mean Tink, short for Tinkerbell, I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine, Cole Bradford.”
She grinned, and Gage realized she had never bestowed that kind of smile on him. “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Bradford.”
“Please call me Cole.” He rose to his feet and took her delicate hand in both of his. The bastard was pouring on the charm, making a spectacle of his height. In university, he would tell the girls he had several inches on Gage—and advised them to make an educated choice about whom to go out with. He towered over Brynne by more than a foot.
“The pleasure is all mine, darlin’. Where have you been hiding all my life?”
Gage snorted. “I should have warned you. He’s a lecherous Texan, and you can’t believe a word he says.”
Brynne giggled and pulled her hand out of his. “Not to worry, sir . I know how to handle lecherous Texans, depraved Russians, and cantankerous Scotsmen.” She winked at Cole, and he laughed loud enough to draw the interest of the other guests.
Gage leaned back and took a sip of his drink, his eyes glinting like ice. “You want me to take you over my knee, don’t you?”
She leveled a look at him. “You know I do. I’m not sure why you insist on denying us both when I’ve done plenty to deserve it.” Brynne turned to Cole. “Have a lovely visit, Cole. I must run. I have tables to get back to.”
She turned and fled in a flurry of tinkling beads. Cole sat down and grinned at him. “Now I understand what the fuss is about, man. She is ripe for the picking.”
Gage ran a hand roughly through his hair. “You see what I mean? She’s not submissive. She wants to play around—and fulfill her fantasies of what she thinks BDSM is.”
“Well, if I were in your shoes, I’d toss her into the deep end to see if she’s all talk or not.”
“I have no interest in training a novice, only to find out later it isn’t what she really wants.” He looked at Cole and saw sympathy reflected in his eyes. “Sierra pretended for months to love it and she had me fooled.”
“I get it, man, but not all women are as dishonest as that witch. And don’t take this the wrong way, but you fell for a cold-hearted bitch, who was just like your mother.”
Gage swore and stared into his glass of scotch, swirling the amber liquid. “That’s pretty fucked up.”
“Yeah, it is. Bottom line, we have to get you laid. But right now, you should show me the sights. What is happening in this Arabian den of delights?”
Gage shook himself free of his dark thoughts. He finished his drink and rose. “Let’s go up to the second floor. I’ll show you the sheik’s playground.”
Brynne arrived at the club an hour early so Mel could help with her hair and makeup. She used extra smoky eye shadows and black kohl to make her eyes stand out and curled and styled her hair in a way Brynne could never do herself. She stood staring at her reflection, admiring how the pretty colored jewels on her top shimmered in the light. When she moved, the dangling beads on her waist and ankles jingled so everyone could hear her coming. Sexy didn’t describe how she felt. It was far more powerful. The outfit would draw attention to her curves. It made her feel exotic. Wanton. Carnal.
When she delivered the drinks, Gage had looked strange—like he was in pain. His friend was charming and handsome, but she only had eyes for the broody motherfucker who wouldn’t make a move. Brynne had made her desires clear enough and held out hope that he would act on them.
There was no time to worry about it now. She had tables to serve, and the depraved Russian had just arrived with his entourage.
Brynne could see him searching for her as he made his way to his table. Unfortunately, he didn’t bring any subs with him. Her hopes of him focusing his attention elsewhere were dashed. She wanted to see how he treated them—and what he might make them do. Instead, he brought two massive bodyguard types with shaved heads and glowering faces. They were out of place in the sumptuously decorated room.
When Dimitri saw her, his eyes lit with a feral gleam that caused her to falter. The fancy beaded mules didn’t help—she almost tripped twice over her own feet.
Brynne took the drink order for Rory and his friend and went over to the bar. She needed to take a breath and center herself before dealing with him.
“Look out for me tonight, Bill. I feel like a rabbit amongst a pack of wolves!”
“Don’t worry, Tink. Every security guard in the room will watch you and your fellow harem gals closely. You will be safe.”
Brynne kept her eyes on the floor on the way to Rory’s table and delivered their drinks without her usual flair. Rory took her hand as she was turning away and asked, “Sweet Tink, will you be getting into trouble tonight?”
“I hope not, Sir Rory. I’m planning to be on my best behavior.” She winked at him.
“Mores the pity.” He kissed her hand and let her go, a wistful look in his eye.
She took a deep cleansing breath, her head held high and walked to the corner booth. Dimitri’s eyes devoured her, but she refused to let him unnerve her.
“Good evening, gentlemen. May I get you something from the bar?”
The beefy henchmen looked to Dimitri, not daring to speak first. His lips were white, his jaw stiff. Why does he look so angry? Nobody grabbed my butt on the way over.
“If you were mine, I would not allow you to dress this way in public. This would be for my eyes only, Kiska.”
“It’s not that bad.” She looked down at herself. “I am totally covered.”
Despite her assertions, it did not placate him. “Nyet. Every man here wants to fuck you because of the way your body is on display.”
Brynne shook her head, sensing this situation could easily unravel. “It doesn’t matter what every man wants. I am not interested and plan to leave here as I came—alone.”
“You should leave with me, moy angel. But I have the whole evening to convince you of what I can offer.”
“What can I get you to drink?” she asked, avoiding his searing gaze.
“Bring a bottle of Stoli on ice, and three glasses. I need something to calm me.”
She nodded and headed for the bar, searching the room for Gage and his friend. Their absence made her feel more vulnerable.
Bill smirked when she gave him the order.
“I put the vodka on ice an hour ago.” He placed the bottle on her tray with the glasses. “This should calm the beast.”
She sighed. “I hope you’re right.”
Brynne wanted to enjoy tonight, not run back and forth for Ivanov’s amusement. She hoped to watch people enjoying the playroom, which they said was decorated like a sheik’s lair. For now, she was stuck serving his table.
After she poured the vodka, he grabbed her hand in a firm grip. He looked at her, his chin raised. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Tink?”
She scanned the table. “The ice bucket. I’m so sorry. Bill had the vodka in the freezer before you arrived. I’ll be right back with it.”
He held on for a moment longer and smiled, baring his perfect white teeth. “Perhaps I will keep track of your mistakes tonight. And hope for the chance to punish you later.”
She dug her fingernails into his hand and tried to pull away. He looked surprised and amused. Finally, he let her go and chuckled. “My kitten has claws. I’ll count that as another strike.”
Brynne whirled around, causing all her dangling coins to sound like a penny slot machine that just paid out. She stalked toward the kitchen and almost lost a shoe. “Stupid shoes. Stupid Russian.” She seethed under her breath, ignoring the stares she was getting.
Mel met her in the back when she was scooping out the ice. “You look fit to be tied, Tink. Please don’t put salt in the ice bucket.” Mel knew how to lighten her mood.
“You know how badly I want to, but it would play right into his hands.” She turned to Mel, her eyes lit with an idea. “Hey, if you get a request to deliver anything upstairs, could I take it? I’m dying to see the playroom.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And see who’s doing what to whom!”
Mel laughed. “For sure, Tink. I’ve seen it all. I will ask Bill to give some of my deliveries to you.”
“Thanks babe! I’m off. Wish me luck. Let’s hope I don’t trip and drop this bucket on him and his goons!”
Dimitri’s mood did not lighten as the night wore on. Just the opposite. He ordered a second bottle of vodka and a different appetizer each time she went to the table. He repeated his wish to take her away from all this drudgery, and she rebuffed him as gently as she could.
So far, she hadn’t seen any juicy action. To add to her irritation, Gage hadn’t returned either. Maybe he was upstairs having his wicked way with a submissive!
There was a lull in orders, so she told Mel it was time for a fast look upstairs. “I’ll take some bottles of water up. People need to stay hydrated, right?”
Mel nodded and winked. Before heading up, Brynne popped down to the locker room to pee and freshen up.
Cole and Gage entered the lounge and took a seat at the same table they occupied earlier. Gage scanned the room, but Brynne wasn’t in the lounge. Annoyed, he excused himself from Cole and strode to the bar. “Where is Tink?”
“I believe she took a break. Ivanov has been running her off her feet.”
“Okay. Can you send her over when she returns? Same order as before.”
Bill nodded, and Gage turned to find Martin sitting at the table beside them. Gage introduced the two men. Martin introduced his sub, Cara, who kneeled on a pillow at his feet. Her silky black hair was braided down her back and woven with gold strands. She wore a very short white skirt and a beaded bikini top that was stunning against her glowing brown skin. Her wrists and ankles were cuffed, and Martin held a leash, attached to a decorative gold choker around her neck. Cara looked up and acknowledged the men with a nod.
Cole was talking to Martin when Mel brought over the drinks. Gage stood and asked her privately where Tink was.
Melanie nibbled her bottom lip. “She was going to take water up to the playroom to see what was happening. But she’s been gone a while.”
Cole overheard and stood. They looked at Dimitri’s table and back at each other. “Cole, you check the playroom. I’ll check downstairs; she might have gone to freshen up.”
They left by the main doors and split up. Gage started down the stairs, unease twisting in his gut. He was almost at the lower level when he heard her scream. His blood curdled as he reached the corridor in time to see Brynne sprinting barefoot toward him. Her hair had come undone, and her eyes were wide and glassy. He grabbed her and pulled her to his chest. “Where is he?”
She spoke into his chest, her arms wrapped around his torso. “In, in the locker room. Bleeding. Nose.” She trembled against him, her breath coming in shallow gasps. He held her tight and patted her back, as much to calm her as himself. He felt capable of murder.
Cole came bounding down the back stairs with two security guards. Dimitri emerged from the women’s locker room, holding a bloody towel to his face. Cole grabbed him by the lapels and pushed him up against the wall. “What kind of animal are you, preying on innocent women?”
The Russian ignored him and turned toward Gage and Brynne. “Malishka, I’m sorry if I frightened you.”
Reining in the urge to smash his face to smithereens, Gage gritted out, “Ivanov, you have crossed the line. I want you out of my club. Now . Your membership is revoked.” He should have trusted his instincts about Dimitri; now he had the opportunity to be rid of him once and for all. His security team and all his rules failed Brynne. He failed her. Garrick and John approached from the back stairs.
John looked at Gage, a heated look passing between them. “Does she want to press charges?”
Brynne turned her head slightly and spoke in a whisper. “I don’t know. No, I don’t think so.”
Gage addressed Garrick. “Show Mr. Ivanov out—collect anyone he brought with him and escort them off the premises.”
Cole left with them, and Gage knew he would help ensure they delivered the three pieces of garbage to the curb.
Brynne loosened her grip and backed away from him. She stared at the marks her mascara had made on his dress shirt and bit her lip. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”
“Come,” he said—and he led her down the hall to his office and gently settled her on the couch. He poured her two fingers of scotch on ice and brought it to her. When she didn’t take a drink, he sat down beside her and put the crystal glass to her lips. “Drink.”
A little fire returned to her eyes. “So bossy.” She took a swig of the scotch and closed her eyes and moaned.
“I cannot help it where you are concerned.” He looked her over and saw red marks on her arm. “Can you tell me what happened?” His voice was deceptively calm.
She took a deep breath and swished the amber liquid round and round. “He…he followed me down here and cornered me in the locker room. I’ve told him repeatedly that I’m not interested and that I have a mistress.” She looked at him for a second, her face heating. “He was in a bad mood when he saw my outfit and it just got worse the more he drank.” She sighed, her breath shuddering. “I don’t normally get shaken up like this, it’s just…” She paused. “He’s unnerved me from day one.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“When I tried to get around him. He grabbed my arm to pull me closer. He was begging for a kiss.” She looked down at her wrist and paused. “I took self-defense classes last year. I knew I couldn’t let him get my other arm, so I tried the twist maneuver, but he was too strong. When he leaned closer to kiss me, I bashed his nose with my forehead.”
Gage was stunned. He lifted her hair and saw the golf ball-size bump on her forehead.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he snarled. He went to the sideboard for ice and a cloth napkin. He placed the cold pack on her forehead as gently as he could. Brynne sucked in a breath.
“I think we should get you checked out at the hospital.”
She took a gulp of the scotch and shook her head. “I don’t need the hospital. It’s just a bump. I’m fine.” She swallowed another sip and looked at him with a little smile. “I could do with some more of this, though. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the real good stuff.” Giggling, she added, “I’ll be good as new in no time.”
Gage went to his phone and rang the lounge. “Bill, please locate Doc McCaffrey and ask him to come to my office.” He turned and lowered his voice. “Aye. Ivanov and his thugs are gone. Make sure security is in place when you leave the bar.”