but his presence was commanding. Dangerous. Dark hair was swept back from his face; dark eyes penetrated the soul of his quarry. Here was a man who demanded your attention and was used to getting it by whatever means necessary. He pushed every one of Blaze’s ass-kicking buttons, and reining in the compulsion was getting more difficult by the second.
“Please, have a seat,” he answered with false congeniality. He hoped Kosta couldn’t hear the note of threat in his voice. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Yes, thank you.” The man accepted offhand, almost as if the offer was simply due him.
He signaled a server, gritting his teeth. “Please bring the gentleman whatever he wants.”
“Scotch on the rocks.”
The server hurried away, and Blaze held out his hand. “John Chase. Nice to meet you.”
His target accepted, lips curving upward slightly. “Augustine Kosta. And who is the shining star on your arm?”
“Mr. Kosta, this is my wife, Brandi.” He gave Emma a squeeze. “You may address the gentleman, love.”
“Hello, it’s good to meet you,” she said pleasantly, glancing up at the man, then lowering her gaze respectfully again.
“Likewise, my dear,” he murmured, lust apparent in soulless, glittering eyes like onyx. He spoke to Blaze while still studying her. “You’ve trained her well, Mr. Chase.”
At this point it was crucial that he extend the olive branch of becoming acquaintances by offering more familiarity. But shit, how it grated. “John, please. And yes, she’s done fine, though she was an easy sub from the start. Quite malleable.”
Now,
“Mmm. I can see that,” Kosta commented with undisguised appreciation.
The arrogant fuck couldn’t see anything at all. Blaze didn’t have to guess that Emma longed to kick him in the shins for the “malleable” remark. He knew her very well, and she was doing an admirable job keeping her irritation under wraps. Under other circumstances, he would’ve laughed.
“I haven’t seen you two here before,” Kosta said, turning his curious inquiry to Blaze.
“First time. We just moved to the D.C. area, and we’ve been searching for another club to call home.” Blaze waved at the sleek interior. “In terms of sheer extravagance, this one beats any I’ve ever tried, hands down.”
That was true, though he much preferred his own club at home. Adam Langley and the rest of his staff lent their establishment a welcoming, friendly atmosphere that was disturbingly absent here.
“What do you do, John?”
A gleam of interest lit the other man’s eyes. Avarice, not a sexual interest. “You do well for yourself, I suppose.” Not a question. His attention lit briefly on Blaze’s gold Rolex.
“Not too bad. Business has its ups and downs. What about you?”
“Much the same. I invest in property and consumer products… and the occasional special project.”
A thrill of anticipation shivered along his spine. “Sounds intriguing. Such as?”
“I back entertainment acts, mostly rock. Have you heard of Ash Kelly?”
Oh, no fucking way. “Who hasn’t?”
Kosta chuckled in a way that came across as mocking. “I own him, and several other entertainers besides.”
Own? What the hell did that mean?
“I’d hardly think a star of Ash Kelly’s stature would need independent backing anymore. No offense.”
“True. It’s amazing what rights a man will sign away when he’s desperate to make it big.” He smiled as though he’d made a great joke. “Though I’d be willing to sell Kelly’s song rights, seeing as how he’s less than a stellar investment at the moment. They’d be a steal at a mere one hundred million.”
Jesus Christ on roller skates. He stared at the asshole, trying hard to keep his mouth from dropping open. Ash had sold his soul to this devil — Ted Turner’s evil twin — to gain fortune and fame? God, he wished he was a rich man. If he was, he’d take the man up on his offer and free his cousin from his clutches. How much did this pressure have to do with Ash’s downfall?
He’d have to figure that out later. Right now, he had to steer the offer toward a particular investment — one that affected the lives of many.
“That’s a bit rich for my blood,” he replied, forcing a smile. “But I’m always open for new opportunities. If something else comes along, let me know. Here’s my card.”
Removing his wallet, he extracted a fake business card embossed with a cell phone number they’d set up for this op, and handed it to Kosta. The man tucked it inside his jacket and continued to study both him and Emma for several long moments as the server set down his drink and left. He took a sip of the scotch, studying them.
“Do you two play nice in the sandbox?”
Blaze gave him a slow, appraising look. “We’re highly selective. You? I suppose you could watch.” He let his tone suggest he could care less.
Kosta’s eyes narrowed, and Blaze resisted the urge to give him the finger. Here was an SOB who wasn’t used to being denied in any way.
As he returned the cool gaze he got the distinct impression Kosta was close to simply calling it a night. But something held him there, and he had a feeling that something was linked to the conversation they’d just had about investments. As he’d hoped, the other man saw him as a golden opportunity — to fund Dietz, with any luck.
Would that temptation be enough to allow him and Emma into their viper’s nest?
He resisted the urge to hold his breath or act like he gave a crap one way or the other. Just two Doms shooting the bull, one inviting the other to watch him play with his sub, the talk about money forgotten.
“Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve played the voyeur,” Kosta said, a small smile curving his lips. “I have a regular room here. Shall we?”
“Absolutely.” Blaze rose and took Emma’s hand, finding it a little clammy. She was nervous, as was he, but there was no help for it. Undercover, they did what was necessary to survive and attempted to minimize the damage to their moral compass.
Such as it was.
Kosta led them to a room much like Blaze’s at home, equipped with every decadent play toy imaginable. Despite the company, Blaze felt the familiar rush in his veins. Adrenaline and lust, coupled with power.
This was his element. He ruled here, and he wouldn’t be inhibited.
“Strip,” he told Emma, shucking his own clothes.
She had more reservations, sliding Kosta a hooded glance before complying. Blaze noted that she turned her body away so the other man could see only her profile. Perhaps it was an unconscious move on her part to protect herself from a distasteful enemy.
Kosta didn’t appear to notice, but sat on a stuffed chair and immediately freed his half-mast rod from his dress pants. Gripping himself, he began to stroke it to full attention, his eyes never leaving the scene Blaze was staging.
The man’s silence was so strange that Blaze forced himself to ignore him altogether. He ordered Emma over to a padded table. “Bend over at the waist and take the hand grips. That’s it — now spread your feet wide and brace yourself.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Not too uncomfortable?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. I want you to remain in position until I give you permission to move. No matter what I do, you’ll be still, but feel free to be as vocal as you need to.” From a nearby table, he fetched a bottle of lube and a butt plug. “Know what I’m going to do? I’m going to slick that tight hole of yours and fill it with this plug. Then I’m going to deliver a bit of pain with your pleasure.”
He squirted a generous amount of lube on his fingers and parted her cheeks. Began to work in the liquid gently. Her moan didn’t sound rehearsed, and he wondered whether she’d managed to forget their audience — as his own dick certainly had. Fortunately for women, they could fake it if necessary.
