Reuben Chapter 1
Reuben:
It’s busy as usual for a Saturday night. While we were open seven days a week from five p.m. to three a.m. and had heavy patronage every night, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays were the busiest nights. Everyone was relaxing and having fun before the new work week started, no doubt.
So far, things haven’t been too crazy. One guy had been told he couldn’t be on the second floor because he was drunk.
He became belligerent and was escorted out.
Security handled him fine, but I added my voice to theirs and got him to leave faster.
We called an Uber to take him home—no way we’d let him drive in his inebriated state.
Before the night started, there had been a couple of staffing issues to resolve due to call-outs.
The fall weather had hit people hard, with many getting colds or the flu.
Asking someone to fill in hadn’t been difficult.
Most of the staff were usually eager to work overtime.
Those who weren’t were passed up. We didn’t strong-arm anyone into working.
They had lives outside of work and should be permitted to enjoy them.
It was all part of that life-work balance, something I didn’t have.
I blamed it on the fact that my friends were connected to my work, I loved my job, and I wasn’t in a relationship.
It had been a long time since I had a committed submissive or girlfriend.
My rounds were about complete for this circuit.
Freddy and Sheila, our full-time floor managers, had reported that everything was going well.
The bar was stocked, according to our main bartender, Jack.
The buzz in the air was positive. Everyone, no matter where they were, was having a good time. That was what we liked to hear.
Spotting my friend up ahead, I grinned as I came up to him.
Mikhail turned away from a patron, catching sight of me.
His smile answered mine. We came together and shook hands as we gave each other a half-hug, the way men did.
I hadn’t known he would be here tonight.
He no longer spent as much time on the floors as he had before he met Taj.
It wasn’t that he neglected his work, but in the past, he had been here constantly.
It had been the source of both his professional and personal life.
The way it was for me. Tonight, happiness radiated from him.
“Hey there, man, what’re you doing here? I thought you would be with Taj?” I asked. With her having less than two weeks until her due date, Mikhail had been sticking to her even more closely.
“I was kicked out of the apartment and told to come down here. Tajah said I’m driving her insane, and if I didn’t, she’d murder me. I was about to risk it when Cady showed up and told me to go. She’s watching over her for me.”
I chuckled. I had no problem picturing Taj saying that to him or Cady booting him out.
The fact that Taj was merely up on the private third floor was why he’d complied.
If Taj had been at their house in Culleoka, there was no way he would’ve gone this far.
An hour might not sound like much, but when your wife was pregnant, it was.
“Laugh. You wait. One of these days, this will be you,” Mikhail muttered.
“Not the way I’m going,” I replied.
“Come on, you’ll meet someone. It took me forever to meet Tajah. It’ll happen when the time is right,” he said.
“Mind telling my parents that, as well as my siblings? They keep after me constantly to find a woman, settle down, have kids, and give up this life because I’m headed for hell.”
He was familiar with my family and their antics. I’d grown up in a traditional Hispanic family, meaning they were very old-fashioned and religious. My parents’ belief in God was strong, as they were Catholic. I was the black sheep, much to the despair of my parents.
“Whoa, I love you, buddy, but not that much,” Mikhail teased.
We were laughing when a commotion caught my ears.
I turned at the same time Mikhail did in the direction it was coming from.
A cluster of people was gathered around something.
As if linked, we took off for it. If it were trouble, we’d shut that shit down pronto.
However, a good fight might just be what I need.
The drunk hadn’t given me more than a verbal one.
Moments later, as we pushed our way through the throng, I heard a woman’s voice.
“Rhys, I told you downstairs and again up here. I’m not interested in a drink, conversation, or anything else. Please, leave me in peace. I want to observe and be alone. It’s been a long week. I need to de-stress.” The woman’s voice was husky and edged with exasperation and something else.
“If you want to de-stress, I can help you do that.”
His tone shouted that the way he meant was sex.
If she agreed, I wouldn’t intercede. Based on her tone, she wanted nothing to do with it or him unless this was a consensual, non-consensual, CNC, role-playing happening.
We’d have to approach it carefully. Those happen periodically here.
Never assume. As the last body cleared out of the way, I saw the couple.
The guy, Rhys, was a regular patron. And unless I was mistaken, he had never been one to cause trouble, be issued warnings, or participate in CNC play unless it was a new thing for him, which was always possible.
His earnest expression told me nothing. Shifting my gaze to the woman, her frustrated expression suggested she wasn’t playing.
Either that or she was a consummate actress.
As Mikhail and I halted to see what else they’d say or do, I took in the sight before me.
I dismissed Rhys. It was the woman who captured my attention.
The woman was on the taller side of petite.
Based on my six feet one inches, I guessed her without heels to be five feet three or four.
Her skin was a golden color, though lighter than mine.
Her hair was long and thick, medium brown with lighter golden highlights.
I knew it was long based on the size of the hair bun it was pulled up in.
The severe hairstyle showcased her face.
She was what I thought of as a classic Hispanic beauty—perfectly proportioned face, delicate, dark, arched brows, dark lashes, a slender nose, and a full mouth.
From this distance, I thought her eyes were brown.
She was dressed in nice clothes, though not anything overly revealing or sexy.
Her shoes, which added to her height, were wedges.
While her clothes didn’t display much of her skin, they showcased her body.
A compact, lush body with a big bust, smaller waist, and wide hips—an hourglass.
The sight of it, along with her face, caused my cock to thicken behind my zipper.
What the hell? She wasn’t the first gorgeous woman I’d seen here, but this response suggested she was.
I was exposed to good-looking, sexy, barely clothed or naked women nightly.
I dropped my hands to rest in front of my zipper as I fought back my response.
“If you don’t leave me alone, I’m calling a monitor or security. I’m not telling you no again,” she told him. Her expression and tone told Mikhail and me all we needed to know. She wasn’t playing with him.
“Hey, whoa, no need to do that,” Rhys said, taking a step away from her.
Walking forward, we grabbed both their attention.
Rhys grimaced. Busted. The woman cast me a hesitant look, then broke into a smile when she spotted Mikhail.
I glanced over to see him smiling back at her.
A shaft of something dark streaked through me.
If I wasn’t mistaken, it was dislike directed at my best friend.
“Mikhail, Reuben, this isn’t what it looks like. I only wanted to have a drink and get to know her. I didn’t touch her. I asked her to reconsider her refusal,” Rhys quickly told us.
“Sounded like she gave you her answer and was more than clear and convinced of her stance,” Mikhail told him.
“Rhys, you’ve been a patron here long enough to know that we don’t tolerate pressuring anyone, not even to talk. No means no, got it? Or do you need to be educated?” I asked darkly.
He knew that when I said “educated,” I wasn’t referring to a review of the online rules and policies.
I meant the kind of education with fists.
We might not make a habit of beating our patrons’ asses, but it had been known to happen, and word got around.
Plus, with so many believing that Mikhail was part of the Bratva, the Russian Mafia, it scared most and lessened the need to get physical.
Rhys held up his hands as he shook his head. “No, no review of the rules is needed. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry. I meant no harm, I swear. Please, forgive me,” he said to her rapidly.
The woman had been watching Mikhail and me, so she barely bothered to glance back at him as she replied. “I’ll forget this if you don’t do it again. And not just to me. This kind of behavior is off-putting and scary. Don’t be that kind of person.”
“I won’t. Guys, are we good?” Rhys asked.
I gave him points for not trying to slink off. “I’ll let it go, but don’t let me hear you do it or anything else out of bounds again. The staff will be notified to keep an eye on you,” I warned him.
Mikhail merely nodded. Dipping his chin in understanding, Rhys cast an apologetic look at the woman before walking away.
“You all can go,” I informed the crowd.
While they slowly dispersed, my attention was on what was happening in front of me.
Mikhail and the mystery lady were standing close, holding hands, and smiling at each other.
Their voices were mere murmurs, so I wasn’t able to hear what they were saying.
Again, that feeling of disapproval toward my friend shot through me. I moved closer to them.