Chapter 15 #2
She may have a different dynamic with her men than I do, but it was still amazing to meet someone else in a polyamorous relationship.
Her men are as complex and interesting in their own way as mine are.
I wrinkle my nose. “How about calling me Ryn? It’s what my friends call me.”
Everett’s large honey eyes spark with happiness. “I would like that, Ryn.”
“Me too.” Cassian bounces on his seat like a real kitten.
Cassian is dressed in soft blue jeans, a white shirt with kitten paw prints on it, combat boots, and cute kitten ears that poke out of his ash blond curls.
Eden would love the entire outfit.
Maybe I should surprise Eden by dressing up as a cat? I get the feeling that instead of having fun in a sexy pet play scene with me, he’d adopt me and spend the evening petting me curled up on his lap.
Cassian also has a collar wrapped around his small throat, which is like a luxury cat collar: sky blue with KITTEN written on it in rhinestones.
“Of course, Cas,” I reply. “Where are the doms?”
“Mistress needs to work on weekend nights,” Everett replies. “And Master Shibari is over there.”
Everett points to the edge of the audience.
I peer over and catch Fleet’s eye, as he weaves through the crowds who are gathering to watch my men’s performance, which is going to begin any minute.
When I wave, Fleet smiles and waves back.
“What’s that printed on his armband?” I ask. “DM?”
“DM stands for Dungeon Monitor. It means that Fleet is one of the Dungeon Monitors tonight.” Everett sits stiffly on his seat with perfect posture.
How much training has it taken for him to sit, stand, and walk like a Victorian butler?
Does he ever break anything? Fall over? Smash glasses?
“DMs keep everyone safe. Master Shibari is the most popular DM because the subs know that not only will he protect them but they can go to him if they’re confused about anything, overwhelmed, or just lonely. ”
“Huh.” It’s hard for me to imagine any hardass coach being someone who you’d go to and willing be vulnerable around.
I grew up with a hockey player and then a coach.
I’ve been around coaches all my life.
Dad was someone who I protected Cody from.
How many times did Dad drag Cody away from me into the study, slamming the door after him to keep me out?
I just knew that my younger brother was being hurt.
It wrecked me not to be able to break down the door and run away with him somewhere that he wouldn’t be called bad, useless, or crybaby again.
Because Cody was none of those things.
I have always loved my brother more than anything in the world. And been fucking proud of him too.
Throughout my life, Dad was the danger.
He still is.
Colton was the same.
Yet here, Fleet is the protector.
The thought is mind-blowing. Yet can I trust it?
Cassian scoots closer to me.
“So, we’re free of the doms,” he whispers in a mischievous way.
Everett tuts.
“Cas,” he says sternly, “Mistress put me in charge. I am responsible if anything goes wrong. I know that you don’t want me to be disciplined if I need to report that you have broken her rules.”
Cassian straightens. “Free to be good.”
“Better.”
“But still,” Cas looks at me, shyly, “this is nice, right? It could be our Bay Rebels Sub Group!”
He’s right.
It is nice in a way that I didn’t know I needed until he voiced it.
“Sorry to break up the club,” I reply, “but I’m a switch.”
“I don’t discriminate. You’re still welcome,” Cassian declares, earnestly. “Wait, please tell me that you dom D’Angelo…”
“Cas,” Everett says, sharply. “You know the rule is to call him Master Fire and Ice on event nights.”
Cas blushes. “Sorry, Ev.”
“Sadly I must destroy that happy daydream,” I say quickly to distract Cassian, who looks close to tears even from Everett’s mild scolding. I see now why Kay is so gentle with him. “But it’s Shay who I dom. I’m his Ma’am like D’Angelo is his Sir. But it’s still different between us.”
“Of course it is,” Everett says, simply.
“Are you coming to my next event?” Cassian peers at me, sweetly.
He looks like he wants to say more, but nerves have overtaken him.
Everett gently encourages, “Go on.”
“My Valentine’s Down the Rabbit Hole event. Ev has been helping me with it. Please do. I don’t have any actual friends of my own to ask and…” He glances down, playing with his fingers on his lap.
“You have me now though, right?” I grasp his hand for a moment to still it, and he looks up. “I haven’t been to a full fetish event before, and it’ll be a good way to celebrate after these stressful games.”
Cassian doesn’t need to know that it would be a Valentine’s farewell to Shay, before he was traded across the country, if the Bay Rebels lose more than one of their next four games.
“We all need things to look forward to. Helping with events like this helps me to stay calm. They make me happier in myself. Kay even let me choose the theme. I love Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland because I run Alice’s Book Café bookstore on top of my studies.”
I stare at him.
Eden is going to freak out in a good way.
“I fucking love that place,” I blurt. “It’s amazing. Shit, did Ev help with the way that it’s decorated? Because it’s like a stage set.”
Cassian’s cheeks pink. “Yeah, Ev designed it. Master Fire And Ice put up the funding for it, and Mistress helps with the business side.”
I should have known that D’Angelo would own it.
Does he own half the town? Has he been stopping this struggling town from collapsing ever since he moved here to join the Bay Rebels without most people knowing?
After all, he has also been keeping his sports charity and hockey scholarships anonymous. He won’t allow me to use them in his PR.
He’s a good man even if he struggles to admit it to himself.
“Can you invite the one with the beautiful tattoos as well?” Cassian kicks his legs, turning back to face the stage. “I see him come into my bookstore all the time. He likes my tea and cakes. But I’m too shy to talk to him.”
“And Eden is too shy to talk to you.” I smile. “You’re well matched. Eden will be pleased, however, that you invited him individually. If he doesn’t attend, it’s not personal. He doesn’t go to parties, bars, or places with a lot of noise and people if he has a choice. He doesn’t enjoy it.”
Cassian’s expression is understanding. “The parties are meant to be fun. I wouldn’t want him to push himself to do anything he doesn’t like.
But what if I set up a private room for him and you?
We have ten, and a large one for special events.
Then you could still be part of the event, but the room would be quiet and away from the crowds for Eden. I want him to be included.”
My eyes sting.
Has anyone, apart from Cody, tried to include Eden before like that?
Everett tilts his head in thought. “I could decorate it specially for you as well.”
“Thank you.” My eyes are misty with tears. “I’ll check with him but that sounds awesome.”
All of a sudden, the lights dim along with the music.
“This is it.” My voice is breathy with excitement.
I twist to face the stage.
In the darkness, the stage is empty apart from two poles on opposite sides that pulsate with a neon scarlet light.
An eerie red light flickers across the space like spectral flames.
A dark, seductive song winds from the speakers with a powerful beat that reverberates like a heartbeat.
I gasp along with the rest of the audience when two men, who are naked apart from sparkling glitter that is streaked across their bodies like war paint, slide down the poles and land with a spin onto the hellscape stage.
My heart is beating fast.
Glitter is smeared across one of the men’s cheeks and gleams in his black curls, making them appear to be sparking with embers.
Black feathered wings that look like they’ve been burned in his descent from heaven have been drawn onto his back.
Is this dangerous, seductive fallen angel truly D’Angelo?
I had no idea that their dance would be like this.
It’s art.
Axel creates the choreography for all the performances.
He’s a genius.
D’Angelo climbs the pole with astounding strength in his arms.
My breath hitches, when my gaze darts to the man who is mirroring D’Angelo’s athletic spins around the pole with a fluid grace.
I know that it’s Shay.
Except, none of these strangers do.
A black leather mask covers Shay’s entire face apart from his beautiful gray eyes and plush lips. It wraps around his head, concealing his distinctive hair and connecting to his collar. On the top of his mask are a pair of huge demonic kitten ears.
Cassian nudges me. “Do you like that mask? Ev sourced it. I always wanted to wear one like it, but Kay…” Everett shoots him a disapproving glare. “Mistress,” Cassian corrects, “says that I am too sweet to be a bad devil kitten.”
Shay isn’t, especially not when he is swaying his hips like that.
He could seduce a saint.
And my collection of monster dildoes prove that I am no saint.
The mask transforms Shay in a way that I wasn’t expecting. It does more than make him anonymous. It does more than simply objectify him. It also gives him an entirely new alluring persona.
In the mask, he appears to be not only D’Angelo’s familiar, but also his puppet.
Through the push and pull of the dance, it’s as if D’Angelo is controlling Shay’s movements, dragging his limbs into each beautiful contortion and spin.
It’s a breathtaking display of dominance and submission, and the two men aren’t even touching.
It’s as dizzying as the nearly telepathic way that they play together on the ice.
I push my thighs together.
I’m wet, fucking panting.
The mask makes the dance even more powerful because Shay’s identity no longer exists outside of being a toy who is dancing to the devil’s tune.
I’m frozen to my seat, spellbound.
My whole world is narrowed onto the stage.
I am no longer aware of Everett, Cassian, or the rest of the audience.
D’Angelo and Shay truly are dancing for me alone.
My cheeks flush, as their skin slides up and down the poles, slick with sweat like they’re pleasuring them. The red light casts their muscles into shadow. As they stretch, their athletes’ bodies are works of art.
They look like immortals.
Somehow, in each movement, Shay is both bound and freed by D’Angelo.
Shay’s hips tilt back flexibly, before he wraps his legs around the pole and pulls himself up with his arms.
I bite my lip, balancing on the precipice of coming in a shocking way that I never expected.
These two stunning men are mine.
Not anyone else’s.
Everyone else can look at them. But everything that D’Angelo and Shay are doing tonight is for me.
I take a shuddery breath, glowing.
I never realized that I would love both their public exhibitionism so much and knowing that at the end of this, they’re coming home with only me.
They’re untouchable gods now to everyone but me because it’s what we need.
I’m enjoying showing them off.
I get it now, this pride.
It’s the same thrill that surges through me when I watch them score in front of the arena audiences.
The music is swelling, as they sink down to the ground like the flames have consumed them.
The crowd erupt in cheers and applause.
D’Angelo and Shay raise their heads, looking straight at me, waiting for my reaction.
My approval.
And fuck, I do nearly come.
I look straight back at them, grinning as widely as I can. I cheer and whistle.
I don’t miss how both their shoulders relax.
“But still, look at his ears,” Cassian says, wistfully. “Devil ears are badass.”
Everett shakes his head. “Not happening.”
All of a sudden, I’m startled by the shadow of someone blocking my view of the stage.
The man is short but tough looking like he may have been trained by the Marines, until he was dishonorably discharged for some fucked up shit and now works for the type of shady assholes who need bodyguards that look like gangsters in designer black suits.
He appears to be in his late thirties.
He is observing me with dark eyes.
His jet-black hair is combed back, military neat, from his handsome face, which is all sharp lines.
I blink up at the man, who is blocking the sight of my lovers.
I make a shooing motion at him. “You can’t approach me. You’re a dom. Those are the rules, right?”
“I’m not a dom,” the man replies. “I don’t wear a collar because I’m single. Or did you assume that I wasn’t a sub because I’m wearing a suit? I’m just back from an undercover job.”
He wipes his hands together almost like he’s imagining washing blood off them.
“It’s because you have scary dom energy,” I blurt.
Cassian laughs.
The man gives me a level look. “I’ve been told that before. My name is Garcia.”
I relax, studying him with curiosity. “The PI, right?”
“Among other things.” Garcia’s expression is inscrutable. It feels like other things could be anything from assassin to pro Call of Duty gamer. “I rushed back from an important stakeout to tell you that I have found out who KillAStar is.”
KillAStar, the new Misfit?
Is that really why he’s interrupting my first event evening out at D’Angelo’s club?
“Can’t you talk to D’Angelo about this?” I demand.
“He’s naked and covered in glitter. Not a chance.
” Garcia grimaces. “And I have precisely seventeen minutes before I have to be back on the road. I was instructed to look into both Tanya Vega and KillaStar after the security risks and threatening messages. Then the…thing…was hurled onto the rink, injuring Shay. It was likely that they were connected.”
Instantly alert, I throw myself out of my seat. “What did you find out?”
My pulse roars in my ears. Suddenly, I no longer feel safe, even here.
“A ticket under the KillaStar alias was purchased to the game,” Garcia replies. “After some clever but illegal hacking, I have discovered their true identity. KillaStar is Shay’s ex-dom, Blythe.”