5. Zane #3
He can take it. He has before, and I can leave scarlet ribbons across his flesh without worrying about what happens next.
Unless he chooses now to try to push for something more frequent.
I’m distracted, too distracted, and I can’t afford to let one more person take up space in my brain.
I down my drink, the expensive liquor burning in the most pleasant way, then gesture to the long hallway leading to the private rooms. “Let’s go.”
I ignore Stefan’s judgmental looks as we make our way back to the rooms the dancers use when they’ve secured clients. Strictly for dancing, of course, because Jayce only runs a legitimate establishment.
Never mind that each room has condoms, lube, and toys stashed underneath the benches — and definitely don’t look too closely at the breath mints on offer.
Colt pulls off his leather jacket and the tank top beneath to reveal the expanse of tattoos on his back. He stretches his neck and shoulders.
He’s extremely well muscled, with biceps that are larger than my own. His chest hair travels all the way down to his jeans.
He’s nothing like Sin, with his slender, androgynous build that looks every bit as good in a skirt as it does in jeans.
Fuck.
He’s invaded my thoughts, and I’m surprised he hasn’t started to invade my dreams.
That’s all the more reason to distract myself with Colt.
I can’t afford to get sloppy.
I head over to one of the benches, finding the drawer that reveals one of my favorite tools: a whip that can either go light or do serious damage if wielded incorrectly.
Good thing for Colt that I know how to handle it.
Or maybe not, given my mood.
I coil it in my hands, staring at his back. It’s as heavily tattooed as the rest of him, without marks that might indicate that he does this somewhat regularly.
I should be anticipatory, eager, to leave new marks on my canvas.
Instead, I’m imagining a lean body that’s already writhing beneath the promise of pain.
I lick my lips, wishing I had a proper St. Andrew’s Cross to bind him to. That’s all that’s missing, right?
“You sure you’re in the mood for this?” I ask.
I want him to say no.
Colt looks over his shoulder at me. “I’m always in the mood for this. Don’t tell me you’re chickening out now?”
“I’m not chickening out,” I mutter.
But I might be regretting my decision to do this.
I don’t know why.
It’s not like I’ll be able to do this to Sin. Even if I got my hands on him, I wouldn’t be able to take my time with him. He’d be too focused on turning the tables for me to enjoy myself.
Never mind that I had started to enjoy myself, that first night.
I push against the cut on my arm, wrapped in bandages under my button-up shirt.
Colt rolls his shoulders, then positions himself against the wall. “Then whip me. If you get me good, I’ll blow you after.”
I should be all-in on this.
A whipping with someone who can handle it, a fantastic blowjob…
I unfurl the whip, but the sight of Sin’s bare back is there, overlaid with Colt’s much broader back.
I let out a sigh and shake my head. “I’ve had two drinks,” I say. “I shouldn’t play when I’m not completely sober.”
I shouldn’t play when I’m obsessed with someone else.
I don’t even know why.
No, that’s not entirely true. I do know why.
Sin is danger and intrigue, all wrapped up in an enticing package. He’d tricked me and nearly gotten the better of me, which is more than anyone else has been able to do since…
I force those thoughts back into the darkest corners of my mind, where they can’t touch me.
Colt turns around and glares. “Since when is that a problem? And you expect me to believe that two drinks is enough to get you drunk?”
“I didn’t say I was drunk,” I correct him. “But I’m not in the mood after all.”
I don’t want to burn bridges, especially since Colt is one of the few repeats I keep around.
He knows how to keep his mouth shut because neither of us can afford to be out.
“I’m sorry,” I add, even though I’m not.
It’s performative at best, and Colt likely knows that because he makes a disgusted sound and goes for his shirt again. “Fine. But don’t expect me to drop everything for you the next time.”
“Of course not.” We both know he’ll drop to his knees the next time I approach him.
And next time, I won’t be distracted by an assassin.
I watch him as he gets dressed, and part of me wishes that I could offer something more than casual one-offs.
I can’t.
Not with him, not with anyone.
I put the whip back into the compartment under the bench. “See you around, Colt.”
He flips me off as he leaves the room.
I follow him out, scanning the VIP area for Jayce, but he’s nowhere to be found.
I glance at Stefan, my perpetual shadow. “Let’s go home.”
Stefan nods. “We should have gone home immediately anyway. It’s too exposed here.”
“I’m not going to hide,” I retort.
I’d really needed to let some steam off, but with Sin front and center in my mind, that isn’t going to happen.
Ah, well.
It had been worth a try.
As soon as I deal with him, I’ll get Colt on his knees, and I’ll forget all about striking silver eyes and a slim body that can take everything I give it.