“It’s pretty great,” Tate murmured drowsily from his own pool chair. “The view helps.”
Legit. A handful of people had arrived in the last hour or two, and everyone had set up camp in the loungers around the pool. Including Kit with his two Doms. Colt was a hot motherfucker, cut from the same cloth as River and Reese. Older, rugged, solid frame, charismatic.
I flicked a glance over at River and got stuck there. He was in the pool too but had opted to use the stairs as his lounger, and he was leaning back on his elbows and looking generally indecent. Eyes closed, chin dropped, chest hair glistening, lower body submerged, hair pushed back, and sun-kissed scruff that looked a little lighter than normal.
I needed a taste.
Holding up my Coke, I carefully slipped off the lounger and into the water. “Owner, I’m coming for you.”
He cracked one eye open and smiled. “Should I brace myself?”
“Always.” I grinned and closed the distance, setting my soda on the edge before I crawled on top of him.
He raised his chin, a silent request. “Are you here to tell me we can finally change this god-awful music?”
I shook my head and kissed him. “Nuh-uh. This is great music. Music you can actually dance to.”
He hummed, teasing the tip of his tongue against mine, then eased away and tilted his head at me. “Are you a good dancer?”
Before I could respond, Reese hollered that the first round of hot dogs and burgers was ready, and I was struck with a pang of guilt. I’d offered to help out earlier, to which they had said no, and it didn’t feel awesome.
“I can hold my own, I think,” I replied distractedly. “I’m gonna go ask Daddy if there’s anything else I can do. Do you want me to get you some food, Sir?”
“We’ll go together.” River straightened on the step and cupped my cheeks. “You’re not gonna do anything except sit down at have lunch with us. We’ve given you the day off for a reason. Tonight Reese won’t go easy on you.”
Why so serious?
I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. “I can’t wait.”
* * *
I could see why numerous Doms enjoyed letting their subs have fun in the sun during the day now. It lulled us in and threw a big, fuzzy blanket of comfort and security over us. Then, bam, darkness fell. My RnB was gone. The pool party had ended. Industrial metal and goth music blared out of the speakers in the main house, and the black-painted club area became the lion’s den in which aforementioned Doms walked around with happy grins because all the subs suddenly looked nervous.
I did my best to hide those nerves as I stood next to the table on the demo stage where Reese and his “friend from Boston” had set up shop. I counted approximately thirty floggers, whips, straps, and canes.
A large St. Andrew’s Cross had been wheeled over to share the ramp with the table too, and I had a feeling I knew who would get attached to that cross soon.
River was…here somewhere.
According to a sign at the entrance of the club, seventy-five people were allowed to be in this room at the same time, and I guesstimated about half of that were present tonight. So far, all the kink equipment along the walls remained untouched. So I guess they were all going to watch Daddy beat me. Great.
Reese let out a laugh at something his buddy said. The music was too loud for me to hear it, but I was sure it was sadistic and cruel and mean and awful.
How long was I supposed to stand here? Wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs, no less. Granted, there were other subs who were in various states of undress, though they didn’t have spotlights aimed at them. I did.
I bet the Boston dude was a Sadist too. He looked the part, particularly when he smoothed his fingers down his somewhat untamed goatee. He’d grin at something, and his eyes would light up and crinkle at the corners, and he’d ease his thumb and forefinger down the dark hair that circled his mouth.
Well-worn leather pants, top button undone, nothing on top, except one tattoo that covered a shoulder and slithered down toward his chest and arm. Chains and tentacles mingled with the strands of a heavy-looking flogger that rose up from a patch of greenery with leaves, vines, and a single magnolia flower.
My mom had loved magnolia trees.
Oh, fuck no. I smashed my lips together as Reese picked up one of the floggers and drew the strands through his fist. It was the third time he’d picked up that particular tool, and I could see those strands were made of something unpleasant. My bet? Coconut. In which case, I was screwed. Coconut fibers were the reincarnation of the devil.
As if sensing I was watching, Reese glanced over at me with a little smirk.
The song playing was winding down, so I took the opportunity to give him a piece of my mind. “You’re eyeing that thing too hard, man.”
That made him grin. Fucker. Then he turned to his friend again, saying something I couldn’t hear, before he faced the crowd and whistled sharply.
The music died down, and nerves tightened my stomach.
“Evening, everyone!” Reese positioned himself at the center of the ramp and cracked his knuckles while he appeared to be looking for someone. Maybe River. “Good turnout—as always when there’s an opportunity to terrorize our subbies.” Chuckles all around from the dominant types. “Y’all know Walker. We miss him, he should move back down here, and until he does, we’ll have to make do with the fantastic toys he makes. Which—” he gestured toward me “—I will demonstrate on my mouthy boy tonight.”
Mouthy? I wasn’t fucking mouthy!
“That reminds me,” he went on. “I haven’t formally introduced the little fighter who’s turned my brother and
