Trusting Her Two Doms [Knights in Black Leather 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Page 2
“I tend to agree, Marx, but it will require more resources. I think that you will want to alter your membership dues to take this into consideration. If they qualify for use of these rooms, you either rent them out or increase their dues,” Max suggested.
“Good point,” Steve spoke up for the first time since they’d been viewing the plans. “I for one wouldn’t mind either arrangement, but I tend to lean toward making it a part of the dues to alleviate either sending bills when they are used or requiring them to pay at the time of rental. I just don’t like the idea of renting rooms by the hour.”
Jackson chuckled. “It does have a slightly sleazy sound to it. I agree. When the rooms are ready, we can announce to those in the membership that have reached that level of trust that they can select, say a private level of membership with slightly higher dues to be able to access the upper level. This way, even if they don’t plan to reserve a room that night, they can see if any of the rooms are open for viewing and watch. Plus, we can use this area here as a secondary lounge.”
The open area at the head of the stairs next to their private apartments looked large enough for a small sitting area. Sawyer liked that idea. Plus, once they had moved out to their own home, they could turn the apartments into temporary overnight accommodations for special occasions.
They continued talking about the unused portion of the building that had been used primarily as storage and what they could do with it in the future. All in all, Sawyer was very impressed with the club and their new partners. It was obvious that they all shared the same basic beliefs about what a club should be and offer its members as well as similar morals. Women and children were cherished and protected above all else. They were going to get along fine. Sawyer could hardly wait to talk to Max about what he thought.
Chapter Two
Maximillian set the last of his suitcases on the floor of his temporary home and looked around. It was spacious enough and decorated better than most hotels. It would do for now. He had specific requirements for his permanent home, though. He couldn’t wait to get started on planning it. He and Sawyer had discussed their needs and settled on the perfect compromises.
He and his partner shared the living areas, but they had their own master suites on either side. He continued through the living area to look closer at the living quarters. The bedroom was large enough to accommodate the king-sized bed and matching bedroom suit. It held a calming beauty to it in a masculine sense with burnt oranges and subtle golds. He liked it. There was a large walk-in closet that would more than accommodate his clothes and, to the left the master bathroom, complete with both a Jacuzzi and walk-in shower.
Stepping out of the bathroom, he returned to the living area to grab his suitcases and start unpacking. Sawyer met him as he started back to his bedroom.
“What do you think?”
“It’s very nice. I didn’t expect it to be so well appointed.”
“I’m talking about our partners and the club itself, not the apartments.” His friend rolled his eyes.
“I like them. They appear to be solid businessmen who are taking this very seriously. They aren’t in it to make money, which is the first plus on their side. You can’t make money with a dungeon unless you’re willing to make some sacrifices in either comfort or security. If this was going to be a high-end club that only catered to the rich, you could look to clear a small fortune, but you would also have to overlook some of their idiosyncrasies that I won’t tolerate.”
“I agree. They are more interested in having a safe place for them and their friends to play. With Marx and Jackson’s child due any day now, they are going to want somewhere outside of their home. I’m sure there are others among the members who are in the same boat.” Sawyer’s expression hinted at his ultimate question lurking behind those oddly pale-brown eyes of his.
“Out with it, man. What are you fishing for? It’s written all over that ugly face of yours.” Max folded his arms and waited.
Sawyer frowned and jammed his hands on his hips. “Why do you always think I have some ulterior motive going on? I just want to get your take on things is all. You’re the one with the business degree. I’m just a dumb grunt.”
“Fuck you, man. You’re as dumb as a damn genius. Don’t try pulling the college card on me. I know you too well for that.” Max narrowed his eyes at the other man.
“Do you like it here so far? I know we haven’t really seen the town or been around anyone outside of the board for the club, but what does it feel like to you?” Sawyer finally asked.
“The place seems fine on the surface. We’ll have to explore some and see what’s what.”
“Damn it, Max. Does it feel good to you? Do you feel like it could be home?”
Max sighed and ran his hands over his face. It was the one thing about Sawyer that irritated him, the man’s need to put down roots and start a family. He was searching for a home like what he’d grown up in but with the added kink of their unique lifestyle. What did he say to the other man to put him at ease without making promises he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep?
“I’m sure it can with time, Sawyer. Right now, we have enough on our plates without pulling in anything else. Let’s concentrate on building up the club for now. We can worry about the future later.”
He watched Sawyer’s whole demeanor change as a solid piece of shielding encased him once again. It happened every time they talked about the future outside of work. It hurt Max that Sawyer would feel the need to don such around him. They shared everything and kept no secrets, but his partner refused to listen to reason when it came to forming a family.
While Max wanted a family—eventually, Sawyer wanted one sooner rather than later. It was natural to want to procreate. However it was the emotional side they differed on. His partner envisioned a close relationship with their wife and an equally close one with their children. Max wanted a more disciplined household where their wife was also their slave and looked to them to handle everything. It wasn’t that he thought less of women or would ever entertain the idea of treating one with anything other than respect, but he wanted, needed to control everything about his life. It was how he was able to function.
Any woman of theirs would want for nothing and would be treated like the treasure she was. She would just follow their directions in everything, from what she wore to what she ate. Sawyer wasn’t as strict in his needs. While he wasn’t one to allow a bratty sub to have their own way, he was fine with sexual submissives as opposed to the 24/7 lifestyle. It was a bone of contention between them.
“I’ll be unpacking when you get ready to see about dinner. We’ll need to see about stocking up while we’re out.” Sawyer turned toward his own room and disappeared.
Max sighed and picked up his bags once again. There had to be some way to get through to Sawyer that he just wasn’t going to be able to give more than that to a relationship and remain in control. Losing control just wasn’t an option. His partner understood that better than anyone. They both had dangerous issues where control and discipline were concerned. It was why they worked together so easily—usually.
After unpacking, he joined the other man in the kitchen area to take stock and make a list of what they would need. To their surprise, outside of perishables, most everything had been provided. Their list was much shorter than he had anticipated. Neither man discussed their earlier differences as they climbed into Sawyer’s SUV.
The short trip into town along Wild Child Road boasted pretty scenery of fields of wild flowers and a short run of wooded area. Then they turned left onto Crossover Street in front of the diner. The grocery store was easy to find on the corner of Johnson and Crossover. They parked out front and climbed out of the vehicle to shop.
Max could appreciate the quaintness of the little town. It had a simple beauty to it the way it was laid out and how clean it appeared on the surface. There were supposedly quite a few specialty shops there, one of which Steve owned called Heavy Trinkets. He couldn�
* * * *
Taylor Rizzoli rubbed her lower back with one hand as she stood up from wiping down the last table out front in her coffee shop. Rizzoli’s had been her parent’s creation before she’d even been born. She’d grown up between these four walls and learned all about life while serving coffee to the citizens of Perkins City. There weren’t very many secrets in a small town, but what few there were, she was probably privy to since outside of a bar, a coffee shop tended to be the next best thing to a confessional on Sunday mornings.
Now she wished she knew one more secret, why someone wanted her to leave town. She’d ignored the small acts of vandalism that had occurred over the last few weeks. She’d just written it off as teenagers who needed more discipline at home. The sheriff’s department hadn’t been all that worried either. Deputy Evan Luvalle planned to ask around and watch for any signs of it occurring anywhere else, but so far, they hadn’t come up with anything new.
Taylor hadn’t enjoyed cleaning the paint from her windows and off the side of the building, but she’d been glad there hadn’t been any major damage. Now she was a little worried after finding the note under her windshield wiper that morning before work. She had called the sheriff’s office as soon as she read it, but by that time, she’d already handled it too much for them to find anything useful off of it.
She hadn’t read it until she’d gotten to work and unlocked the shop. Then she’d sat down at her little desk and pulled it out of her pocket where she’d stashed it earlier. At first the words hadn’t made sense, then fear crept inside and she began to tremble at the implied threat.
If you’re too dense to get the hint, then you’re too dense to run a business. Leave town.
Why did someone want her out of town? What had she ever done to anyone for them to hate her that much? She was thirty years old and had never married. She hadn’t dated that much, having spent all of her time working instead of out making friends and doing the things most teenagers and young adults did. How had she managed to piss someone off like that?
“Taylor. Did you hear me?” Betty Shields, the woman who’d been working for her family for the last fifteen years, looked at her with concern.
“I’m sorry, Betty. What did you say?” She gave the other woman her attention.
“I said I’ve got everything cleaned up back there, and prep is done for tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t mind if I leave early tonight? I can stay if you need me to,” she said.
“Of course not. You go on ahead and enjoy the movie. You don’t get out near enough as it is.” She hugged her, missing her parents even more.
“You’re the one who doesn’t get out enough. You’re young, Taylor. You should be dating and finding a nice man to settle down with.”
It had been an ongoing argument between them for the last few years. At the age of thirty, she figured she was long past finding a suitable husband and having a family. All of the good ones were already taken. She wasn’t saddling herself with a bum just to prove she wasn’t defective.
But maybe I am. Normal people don’t think about and dream about the sort of things I do.
She forced a smile and pushed the other woman toward the door. “We’re not getting into that argument again. Go and have fun with that nice doctor of yours.”
Betty actually giggled as she walked through the door. Taylor watched her closest friend head down the sidewalk before turning back to tidying up the tables. It was nearly eight, and she still had another four hours before she could lock the doors for the night. Being a Friday night, they stayed open until midnight. Monday’s through Thursdays they closed at ten, and at six on Sundays.
Traffic from now until ten would be light, so she used this time to perform the little mundane chores like filling the sugar and stirrer canisters as well as catching up on paperwork. She had one part-time helper who would arrive soon. Together they closed the place down each night.
Darla Sanchez was a twenty-six-year-old single mother of an eight-year-old little, Tommy. She was working part-time at night while attending classes at the community college in the next town. Her mom watched Tommy for her while she worked. Taylor was so proud of Darla. She’d turned her life around and was a wonderful mom.
When the chimes on the door announced someone had walked through the door, Taylor assumed it would be Darla. When she turned around to greet her, she was surprised to see two very tall, very handsome men standing in the doorway staring at her. The sight of them took her breath, and all she could do was stand there with her mouth open as they slowly crossed the room to where she stood behind the counter.
The shorter of the two men, though he was by no means vertically challenged, smiled at her with open admiration. It was enough to jolt her back into the world of the living. She drew in a deep breath and closed her gaping mouth. Finding her voice, she greeted them.
“Hi. What can I get you to drink tonight?” she managed to ask without stumbling over her words.
The one who’d smiled spoke first. “I’m Sawyer and this is my friend, Max. We’d like to know your name, beautiful.”
Taylor could feel the blush whooshing up her neck and into her face as heat burned her skin. No one ever referred to her as beautiful. She was cute but plump. She had her momma’s Italian genes.
“Um, Taylor Rizzoli. You must be new here since I’ve never seen you before. Are you passing through?” She tried to look busy while she spoke, wiping down the counter she’d already cleaned earlier.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Taylor. We’ve just moved here and are out looking around,” Sawyer said.
She couldn’t get past the unusual shade of brown of his eyes. It was so pale that she almost wondered if they were contact lenses. His light brown hair was shaggy, to put it nicely. Though it was definitely clean, it looked as if it rarely saw a brush. She could commiserate. Her hair tended to stay in a curly mess. She thought his facial features to be warm and inviting, but his height and size were a bit intimidating. Next to her five foot four inches, he had to be close to six foot two.
Looking over to his friend, Max he’d said, she had to suppress a shiver. Max probably topped out at six foot six with broad shoulders and very large arms. He had a darker complexion than Sawyer or even her with her Italian blood. His face appeared slightly longer than the other man’s with sharper features and a slight hump in his nose. A small scar marred his aristocratic features across the end of his left brow, while another one appeared at the crook of the right side of his mouth.
Both men wore overcoats in deference to the frigid winter air. She had no idea what the rest of them looked like and felt like if she never did find out, it would be in her best interests.
“Um, would you like something to drink? I have a lot of different flavors and types of coffee, as well as various other drinks. We also have some pastries and sandwiches if you’re interested in something to eat.” Taylor was beginning to wish they’d say no thank you and leave.
“I’ll have a large cup of coffee, black,” Max said before the other man said anything.
“I’ll have the same,” Sawyer added with an odd expression on his face.
She turned away and quickly filled their orders. When she turned around, it was to find both men intently watching her. She felt almost like a bug under a microscope. What were they trying to figure out about her? She was just a woman working in a coffee shop. She set the cups in front of them.
“That’s two dollars each,” she said.
Sawyer gaped at her. “You’re kidding. Two dollars?”
“Well, the refills are free as long as you’re inside.” She’d never had anyone question her prices before. Oh, they sometimes rumbled about the cost of things in general, but they’d never complained to her before. She wanted to disappear through the floor, but instead she stood up straight.
“A cup of coffee this size and this delicious is usually like four bucks in most coffee shops.”
“It is a very good cup of coffee, Taylor.” Max actually smiled as he took a sip of the brew.
“T–Thank you.” She felt totally off balanced now.
“What are those things in the case over there?” Sawyer asked pointing at the pastries.
“They’re cakes and pastries from the bakery around the corner. They are delicious and made fresh daily. Would you like to try something?” Taylor moved down the counter.
“What are those things?” Sawyer pointed to the little round cake pops.
“Cake pops. I have vanilla, chocolate and strawberry left.”
“Give us six of those, two of each flavor,” he said.
Taylor nodded and quickly filled their order, making sure to keep them separate so they didn’t mix. She couldn’t believe how picky some people could be about mixing flavors. She rang them up and took the money Sawyer handed her. When she gave him back his change, he closed his hand over hers for a brief second before releasing it and following the other man to a table in the back.
Taylor wanted to run and hide while they were in the shop, but Darla hadn’t made it yet. She was stuck out front trying to ignore the two men at the table in the back. Something about the way they had looked at her made her feel weak all over. The blood in her veins seemed overheated, and she felt as if her face still held the blush from earlier. God, Sawyer’s touch to the bare skin of her hand had sent tiny electrical sparks up her arm.
She wasn’t naïve. She knew attraction when she felt it, but to be attracted to two men at the same time just wasn’t a good idea. Especially when at least one of those men appeared to be downright dangerous looking. While Sawyer looked able to take care of himself, she didn’t get the same vibes off of him that his friend Max gave off. That man screamed danger. Unfortunately, her body screamed come and get me right back.
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