Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
On the Rocks, Freedom
Shay
“You co-own a bar that looks like James Bond would hang out here before stepping into his Aston Martin with a gorgeous woman on each arm.” I whistle, glancing around myself at On the Rocks in admiration.
D’Angelo arches his brow, looking smug. “If you want the best drink, make sure that you own the best bar in town.”
Robyn narrows her eyes. “You just made that up.”
“Doesn’t mean that it’s not true.”
D’Angelo is sprawled in a red velvet booth in the center of the bar, looking as at home as if this was Freedom Mansion.
He’s studying us closely, however, waiting for our reactions.
What other secrets does he have?
After all, I have plenty.
I’ve been vibrating with excitement all day, ever since D’Angelo told us that he was going to introduce us to his friends, as well as the man who mentored him, professionally training him to become a dom.
D’Angelo is doing the same for my brother now.
I respect the hell out of D’Angelo for that. I can’t wait to get to know the people who were there for D’Angelo when I wasn’t in America yet, being still in college.
D’Angelo has been a legend to me for years. I am bouncing with joy that he’s now allowing me to see him as a man as well.
The fear that I will lose this connection to Robyn and D’Angelo, who are bloody everything to me, if they find out about Blythe is still eating at me.
But I force myself to push the memory of her words inked on my skin away.
I stare around at the bar.
I’m only dressed in a long sleeved scarlet shirt and black jeans. My metallic gray nails are chipped.
Amongst this opulent luxury, I feel like the biker trash who has wandered in off the street.
I wrinkle my nose at the citrus, syrup, and alcohol scents, which are mixed like the smell of the elites.
The walls are floor to ceiling mirrors, arched and gleaming.
Chandeliers drip like shards of glittering ice.
The far wall is a long obsidian counter, which glitters under the lights.
Behind it, colorful bottles of alcohol, which each must cost more than my parents have in savings, are proudly on display.
A glossy grand piano stands in the corner.
Red velvet stools and booths circle a dance floor with poles and cages.
I smile.
Kinky.
I should have known that this place was owned by D’Angelo.
Currently, the bar hasn’t opened yet. It’s empty of customers, apart from us.
Bartenders in smart uniforms are busying themselves behind the counter, shooting D’Angelo smiles and waves.
Possessively, I step closer to him, blocking their view.
My shoulders stiffen.
I crave to drop onto D’Angelo’s lap, straddle him, and draw him into a hot, heavy kiss that proves he’s mine. Then to pull Robyn down next to me and kiss her as well.
Instead, I hook my thumbs into the pockets of my jeans, determinedly keeping my attention on the people who matter and nothing else.
“Focus,” Eden said simply this morning, after he’d insisted that I eat an entire plateful of bacon sandwiches. “Breathe. Then focus on what matters in the moment. Nothing else.”
I breathe slowly, counting to five.
Then I focus on what matters in this moment alone.
I hold my hand out to Robyn. “What do you think, love? Can you imagine our grumpy beast sprawled against that glitzy bar with a brightly colored fruit cocktail in his paw, bossing everybody around?”
D’Angelo glares at me. “Beauty, watch it.”
I laugh.
Robyn grabs my hand, dragging me against her side. It could be the touch of a friend. She’s good at walking this public line in a way that I’m not.
She is dressed in a pretty cotton red dress with ribbons holding it together at the neck, which matches my top in a way that makes me happy in my soul.
She must have chosen it on purpose.
My cock instantly hardens, as she skims her hand across my hard abs, as if she’s simply tidying me up.
Tease.
“I can imagine D’Angelo dancing in those cages.
” Robyn gestures to the tall cage that stands on the edge of the dance floor.
My eyes become glassy at the same fantasy.
D’Angelo looks amused. “Also, being spit roasted over that stool. Actually, I mean remembering it from the photos in the papers, which I clipped out and stuck in the Guide.”
“Bloody hell.” I adjust myself in my jeans surreptitiously. “Do you have to get me hard just before we meet his friends?”
My cheeks flush.
D’Angelo’s smile widens, becoming dangerous. “They’ll just think that Robyn and I are doing a good job with our pet.”
I bite back a groan, and my eyelashes flutter. “Mean.”
I only just stop myself from adding Sir.
D’Angelo’s look is knowing, however, because he sees me more thoroughly than anyone has.
It makes me vulnerable and exposed but in a good way, the opposite to how it felt with Blythe.
Robyn and D’Angelo have made me want to flay myself on their altars from the moment that I met them.
How fast and hard I fell for them scares me. Yet I wouldn’t change this feeling for the bloody world because terrifying as it is — as much as it’ll break me when they eventually throw me away — I feel more alive with them than ever before.
They make me feel like I don’t need to keep risking dying anymore because with them, I can keep falling, but they will always catch me.
D’Angelo glances at his watch, as if he’s waiting for something.
“You both deserve this outing. Cara mia, you’ve worked all night and day on the Butt Plug Bet disaster.
You’re a PR genius to have spun the incident to push the attention away from the loss on the ice and into sympathy for Shay.
Cucciolo, you put one hundred percent into practice, despite the pain that I know you’re still in from your injuries.
I’m proud of you both. You just need to take that single-minded dedication into the game on Thursday. ”
I tilt up my chin. “I will.”
“Good.” Robyn squeezes my hand. “Because I’m desperate for the reward. I can’t decide what playing card I want the most.”
My throat becomes tight.
Not the Queen of Hearts…
I struggle to focus on the present.
Guilt swirls in my stomach.
I’m not a liar. I hate hiding this from my lovers.
“Then I’ll win the game for you, love,” I promise.
Robyn smiles at me, before glancing around the bar.
“Hmm, since you own this place, no wonder they allowed you to act out your playboy fantasies, as well as play the piano like a real life Lucifer Morningstar.” But then, she pales.
“Wait, Dad chewed you out for stinking of alcohol. He did that a lot, right? But did you smell like that just because you were working here?”
She looks stricken.
D’Angelo avoids her gaze. “Sometimes. I worked here overnight more often than I should have done in the early days, when I was first setting it up. I’d turn up to practice exhausted and wearing the same creased clothes that would stink of the bar.
Coach would kick my ass for it, thinking that I’d been drinking. ”
“Why didn’t you explain?”
D’Angelo abruptly stands. “Because this is my safe place, and I don’t share the truth about it with anyone but employees.
” I glow. He’s telling Robyn and me. “And sometimes, coach was right about me. I drank too much whiskey. I was a screw-up. Self-destructive. He helped me, mentored me one-to-one, and got me into therapy. I just don’t trust the reasons now that he did that.
” D’Angelo beckons Robyn and me with his crooked finger.
“It’s time. My friends are particular about not arriving early or late.
At least, one of them is. On the Rocks is only one of my businesses.
The front. My second one is for vetted VIPs only. ”
Robyn and I exchange a glance.
We’re both grinning with excitement as we trail after D’Angelo, weaving between booths, past a cage, down a darkened corridor, through a crimson velvet drape, until we’re facing a large, locked steel door.
My eyes widen. “I can’t decide if this whole mysterious vibe is the scene in a horror movie just before the serial killer lures the hot but dumb couple to his lair or…”
“Or…” D’Angelo grabs me by the back of the neck and slams me face first against the door, pinning me in place.
Fuck, now I’m fully hard again.
We’re alone in the corridor, so I wriggle to put up a token struggle.
When D’Angelo slaps me crisply on the arse, I still.
“Or, D’Angelo repeats, “you’re about to be led into the most elite VIP BDSM club in the state.”
I freeze.
A shudder runs through me, but the type that shivers down my spine when D’Angelo fucks me and hits my prostate at just the right angle.
I’ve never been somewhere like this but I’ve dreamed about it. Blythe attended this posh place with her friends but she’d never take me because she said that I wasn’t well enough trained.
She told me that I was too bad a sub and she didn’t trust that I wouldn’t show her up.
D’Angelo rubs soothing circles into my neck with his thumb, which is sparking pleasure through me. “Still with me, cucciolo? Or have I short-circuited something?”
I wet my dry lips, bracing myself against the door. “I’m okay. This is brilliant.”
“I knew it!” Robyn jumps up and down like she’s won the lottery, pointing at D’Angelo. “You’re the Master of a secret BDSM club. I totally called it months ago.”
“Do you win a prize? An inflatable dildo? A spanking?” D’Angelo replies. “My club is called On the RACK.”
I splutter with laughter. “Of course it is.”
“Problem?” D’Angelo growls.
“Only that if you keep snarling into my ear like that I may come in my pants before we meet your friends.”
D’Angelo’s lips curl into a smile against my ear like he’s considering whether he’d like me to do that.
My heart speeds up.
At last, D’Angelo eases up on his hold and spins me around to face him.
Robyn leans against the door next to me.
“So, this is where you learned your…” She waves at D’Angelo. “…dom face.”
I chuckle.
D’Angelo looks at her icily. “Nope, I was born with that. But I did train here as a dom on RACK. My friends and I wanted somewhere that would be private and discrete where celebrities and billionaires, as well as other members of the local community, could feel safe to explore their dynamic, whilst having their identities protected. It was important to us that it would be a safe space for all sexualities and gender identities. Explicit, affirmative consent would be the most important thing. We utilize dom monitors to keep subs safe and ensure that safewords are respected. Everyone must sign contracts on behavior and privacy. If they break the rules, even once, then they’re banned. ”
It sounds like paradise.
My mouth is dry.
D’Angelo should have called it bloody heaven.
I used to be scared of doors, especially closed ones.
You never knew what was on the other side.
I would fix a smile on my face, hiding the panic that this door would be the one that would lead back to pain and captivity.
Yet the door leading to On the RACK doesn’t make me feel like that.
I’m shaky but not with nerves. Instead, it’s with the firework exploding thrill of a whole new world opening in front of me.
I can’t bloody wait.
Robyn lays her hand on my arm.
“You keep saying we and us.” Robyn cocks her head. “Who are these friends that we’re about to meet?”
D’Angelo’s expression gentles. “We found each other, when I first came to join the Bay Rebels. We’ve each seen the low, dark, and out of control moments in each other’s lives…
and we’re still there. It took me a long time to realize that one mistake by me wouldn’t drive them to abandon me.
We understand each other. They’re my three best friends. We call ourselves jokingly The Kinks.”
Robyn and I burst out laughing.
D’Angelo sighs. “I should have warned them that you two were brats.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll work it out for themselves since they’re doms,” Robyn says merrily.
D’Angelo adjusts his tie. “My co-owner is the dom who trained me. However, the day to day running is split between my two other friends. Kay is a mistress to her kitten and two subs.”
“Kay the equipment manager?” My eyes widen.
D’Angela chuckles. “She handles sticks just as efficiently as our sweet equipment manager, but no, it’s not the same woman.
In fact, my Kay hates sports. So, sorry but don’t expect her to become all starry eyed about meeting you.
She’d be much more excited if you were a movie star.
She usually manages to have actors who turn up to event nights play scenes with her. ”
“She’s poly?” Robyn says, looking interested and delighted.
D’Angelo nods. “A lot of the community are.”
“It’ll be good to know other people who are dealing with some of the same things as we are,” Robyn replies. “I’m glad that you’re ready to share this with us.”
D’Angelo looks taken aback. “No panic attacks that I’m corrupting you by leading you into—"
He’s spiraling.
I cut him off as quickly as possible.
“You’re going to corrupt me, darlin’?” I give him a half-hooded look. “Promise?”
D’Angelo’s lips quirk; I’m desperate to kiss them. “You have no idea half the wicked things that I plan to do to both of you. And that’s a warning not a promise.”
My cheeks pink.
D’Angelo lays his hand on the door handle. “And my other friend who helps run the club, when he’s around and not undercover, is a sub.”
Surprised, I stare at him. “Really? That’s…”
“Yes?”
“Brilliant.”
I don’t know why I assumed that doms would be in charge. It’s just that a small part of me still believes Blythe’s mantra of fuck up — that doms should take the lead even outside a scene.
Bullshit.
“It was important to me to have a sub’s perspective equally for the club. I want to make sure that we get it right for all dynamics,” D’Angelo explains. “Plus, Garcia is an incredible man. Only, don’t get on the wrong side of him. He knows MMA. That man is the silent, black cat type with claws.”
“Garcia?” Robyn bursts out. “The PI?”
“He also has a gun,” D’Angelo continues blithely. “He’s not here today because he’s away on a case. I never ask because half the things he works on are shady as shit.”
“You’ve never…?” I drop my gaze. “You’re all just friends, right?”
D’Angelo snorts. “Platonic, I swear. Kay is not into doms, and I’m not into having my balls busted. Garcia is asexual. He’s not interested in sex. BDSM is about the power dynamics and sensations for him.”
“What about your mentor?” I ask, carefully.
D’Angelo’s eyes sparkle. “He’s straight.”
Why isn’t he telling me his name?
What’s the mystery?
D’Angelo tightens his hand on the handle. “Who’s ready to step inside On the RACK and meet The Kinks?”
Then he swings open the door.