Saints United [For Love of Authority 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Rhiannon Ayers

  A.J. sighed again, rising from his chair. “What the fuck does this have to do with anything?” he asked again, crossing into his living room. The box was on his coffee table, where it had been since the moment he got it in the mail. He’d looked at it several times, even started to open it on several occasions, but hadn’t gotten up the courage. “Why is this so important to you?”

  “Just open it. Trust me. Open it.”

  Shaking his head, he pulled out his pocket knife and slipped the tip of the short blade under the tape on the edge of the box. Slitting it open, he closed the knife and pulled the leaves apart. Inside was another box, this one embossed with fancy gold leaf, with the Club S logo emblazoned across the top. He pulled the smaller box out, set it on the coffee table, and popped open the lid.

  The first thing he saw was a pair of fancy-looking cuffs. They were made from some kind of embossed black leather, about as wide as his palm, and there was a secondary ring of steel on the outside that was about two inches across. Attached to the steel ring on one side was a scrollwork S-shape, almost a figure-eight, but not quite closed on either side. He picked up one cuff, noting the substantial weight, and examined the workmanship. There was a hidden clasp on the inside of each metal ring that allowed them to swing open. They were fancy, really fancy, obviously very expensive.

  And he desperately wanted to put them on.

  A.J. swallowed. “It’s open,” he said, remembering that Austin was on the phone with him, waiting for him to speak. “I found…the cuffs.”

  “Good,” Austin said, sounding pleased for the first time. “Those cuffs are designed specifically for you. They designate you as a sub, and they give you permission to enter the more private areas of the club. You’ll also need them for the auction tomorrow night.”

  “Austin, I’m telling you, I’m not…”

  “Do you see the booklet?”

  A.J. removed the second cuff from the box, and there underneath it was a leather-bound book, this also emblazoned with the Club S logo. “Yes.”

  “Open it,” Austin urged. “Turn to page four, first. Read it for me.”

  A.J. started chewing his lower lip as he opened the book, the new leather cracking with the movement. Page four was a title page, decorated with gold filigree, and there were several words right in the center of the page.

  “New Submissive Mentor Program,” he read aloud. The words made a shiver roll down his spine.

  “Yes, that’s the right one. Now I want you to see something very, very important,” Austin said. “Page sixteen, I believe.”

  “Austin…”

  “Just do it,” Austin said softly. “Trust me, A.J.”

  Suddenly nervous for no reason he could fathom, A.J. started thumbing through the pages, slowly, glancing at each in turn. There were full-color photos at the top of each, photos showing men and women dressed in varying degrees of BDSM fetish-wear. Some were obviously going for the “tough Dom” look, what with their no-nonsense expressions and black leather accoutrements. Some looked more like regular people, though they were still dressed to kill, with expressions ranging from stern to playful. Each photo was followed by a name written in bold fonts, along with descriptions that outlined the type of BDSM play that particular Dominant favored. Bondage, wax play, whips, chains, humiliation, sharing…everything he’d ever heard of as being part of the lifestyle was described in those pages. Hands shaking, dick hardening painfully, A.J. finally flipped to page sixteen.

  And froze.

  Ryder and Lyss smiled at him from the photo at the top of the page. Ryder wore black leather pants, a tight black tank top similar to the one he’d worn during their first dinner together, and black leather cuffs around his forearms. Lyss wore a tight red corset decorated with black butterflies, a flowing black skirt, and had a thin, black leather collar around her neck. A small, heart-shaped pendant hung from the ring on the collar, along with a black-painted old-fashioned lock. Ryder stood behind her with one hand resting on her shoulder, and a black-painted metal key dangled from the cuff on his wrist.

  Stunned beyond comprehension, A.J. read the description underneath their photograph.

  Sir and Lady St. Claire

  Dom/Switch Couple specializing in light bondage, double-penetration, power exchange

  Seeking slave/submissive male, bisexual, who enjoys D/s play

  Special Note:

  This couple is seeking a permanent third to join their relationship.

  This couple also does not engage in impact play of any kind.

  Masochists, please seek other Dominants to meet your needs.

  TRUE SUBMISSIVES ONLY.

  Subs seeking Club-only playtime need not apply.

  A.J. couldn’t breathe. Ryder and Lyss were both in the lifestyle. They were members of Club S. Members who had been around long enough to qualify as mentors, those who teach newcomers the ins and outs of the practice of BDSM.

  And they were actively seeking a permanent third.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” A.J. heard himself whisper.

  “Would you have believed me?” Austin said immediately. “I tried to get you to open the packet, A.J. I tried to get you to see for yourself. Why do you think I suggested you move down here? Why do you think I kept hounding you about joining the club?”

  “You could have just told me,” he said hoarsely, staring at the photo of Ryder and Lyss. “You could have just said his name.”

  “And if I’d told you right off the bat that he was married, would you have listened any further?” Austin countered. “You were still raw, A.J. You weren’t ready to consider any other possibilities right after you ended things with Marian. I know you. I know your heart. If I’d just told you about Ryder and Lyss, you still would have avoided them. You needed to see for yourself. Read the words for yourself.”

  Damn him, he was right. The bastard. He stared at the page, reading the words over and over again. Ryder and Lyss wanted a permanent third. They were advertising in Club S’s official booklet, saying they were seeking a permanent addition to their relationship.

  Everything Ryder…and Lyss…had said to him was true. They weren’t just looking for a hot ride. Weren’t just seeking a sex partner who would eventually be tossed to the curb. They wanted a true partner. Someone to join them.

  And they’d invited A.J.

  He cleared his throat, had to do it again, and grated out, “What do I do, Austin? How do I…I mean, how do I tell them…”

  “If you’ve been hanging out with them, then you’re already in the door,” Austin said. “But, they probably don’t know how to broach the subject of BDSM with you. If you’ve never said anything about being a sub or a slave, they probably don’t want to scare you by suggesting it. It’s been years since you saw Ryder, correct?”

  “Yeah. And no, the subject hasn’t come up, yet.”

  “Didn’t think so. Well, that means you have a choice to make.”

  A.J. tried to clear his mind, tried to knock the image of kneeling before Ryder and Lyss out of his brain, without success. “Such as?”

  “You could tell them flat out,” Austin said confidently. “You could invite them over to your place, tell them you’re a servant-slave, and tell them you know about their membership at Club S.”

  “Or?”

  “Or, you could be in the auction tomorrow night.”

  A.J. scowled, running his fingertip along the edge of Ryder’s face in the photo. “How will that help?”

  “They’ll both be there,” Austin said gently. “They’re both registered for the auction. And they already have a room reservation. One that was made months ago, before you guys got together. I can get you set up for the auction, and you can prepare the room however you want. They’ll be in the crowd tomorrow night, A.J. They’ll be bidding on slaves like all the other Dominants. If you’re on stage…” He trailed off suggestively.

  He cursed, shifting uncomfortably as his zipper started taking a bite out of his cock. “How do I
know they’d…bid on me? What if they choose someone else?”

  “You’ll be going on early,” Austin assured him. “I’ve got you listed as third in line. There’s no way they’d bid before you came on stage. And, besides, I plan to give them both a hint that they should save themselves for someone special.”

  “What if they bid on the first two slaves?” A.J. queried, hating how weak he sounded.

  “They won’t,” Austin assured him. “I promise. Trust me, A.J. Please, trust me in this. If you choose to do the auction, you’ll be putting yourself front and center for Ryder and Lyss. There’s no way they’ll be able to ignore an invitation like that, and they’ll finally realize you’re serious about being with them. I guarantee they’ll bid on you.”

  This was crazy. Absolutely insane. Put himself in a slave auction, just on the chance that the couple he wanted would bid on him? Why not just tell them he was a true submissive, one who identified as a servant-slave? Why not just drop to his knees, confess his desires, and let them decide what to do with him? He could do it. Call Ryder right now, demand that the two of them come over, and present himself.

  It was tempting. Lord in heaven, it was incredibly tempting…and yet so very, very terrifying. There were so many reasons he should avoid this whole thing. BDSM had ruined his life, once before. He had no business getting back into it.

  But he did want it. Desperately. Someone—probably Austin—once told him that once BDSM got into a person’s blood, it was impossible to get out. And right now, he was on the edge of a mental orgasm, just from the very thought of submitting again. No, not just from the thought of submitting. The thought of submitting to Ryder…And to Lyss. Because the whole time he was going to that club in Virginia, the whole time he’d been submitting to other Dominants while learning about his own nature, he’d been imagining himself with Ryder. Imagining that it was Ryder making him stay on his knees. Imagining Ryder taking control of him. And, now that he’d met Lyss, she’d started taking a starring role in his Domination fantasies, too.

  He wanted both of them. More than that, he wanted to submit to them. He just hadn’t known how to ask for what he wanted. What he needed. Seriously, how did someone even go about bringing up that topic? How did you start a conversation about BDSM without knowing if the person you were talking to understood the concept? If they didn’t, he’d have looked like a fool. A sexual deviant—just as Marian and that bastard judge had declared him to be. That was why he’d avoided Club S, why he’d told himself he didn’t want it, couldn’t risk it.

  But he did want it. Had always wanted it. And now, if he could get his courage up, he might actually have a chance to indulge his own needs, a way to get into the BDSM lifestyle he’d so secretly craved ever since Austin introduced him to it, and be with the man and woman he desired more than air.

  If he could get up the courage.

  A.J. sucked in a deep breath. Stared at the photo for a long, long time. Took another breath.

  Then he whispered, “Yes. I’ll do it.”

  Chapter 13

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” Ryder growled, pacing like a caged beast in front of the club’s grand entranceway. He glared at Lyss. “We should be with A.J., not getting ready for a fucking slave auction.”

  “A.J. said he had plans tonight, remember?” Lyss said with a sigh, the tops of her breasts pillowing over the edge of her tight corset. At any other time, he’d have been tempted to march over to her and run his tongue all along those mouth-watering mounds. Tonight, he was too riled up to even think about teasing her.

  “I remember,” Ryder snarled, whirling to pace in the other direction. The gold carpeting would have an obvious line across it if he kept it up, but he couldn’t stand still. Not when this whole situation just felt…wrong.

  They’d tried to back out of coming to the auction tonight. Had, in fact, planned on taking A.J. out to a dance club, get him even more hot and bothered. But when Ryder called the man earlier today, he’d said he had plans this evening, and that he’d have to catch up with them later.

  A.J., the man they wanted, was with someone else tonight. Friend? Or…potential lover? He couldn’t ask. Didn’t dare ask. Because despite their efforts to court him, they had no right to restrict his free time. He could hang out with whoever the hell he wanted, and there was nothing Ryder or Lyss could do about it.

  Didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

  His wife didn’t try to calm him, didn’t try to stop his aimless meandering. She looked just as pensive as he felt. “We made a commitment, Ryder,” she said in a low voice. “We agreed to do this before A.J. came into our lives.”

  “I know,” he said, scowling. “Doesn’t help. This is wrong. We should be with A.J. He shouldn’t have plans with anyone but us.”

  That was what was really bothering him, and he and Lyss both knew it. Was A.J. out on a date right now? Was he finding someone else to fall in love with? Ryder ground his teeth, glancing at Lyss as he passed. “Maybe we didn’t make our intentions clear enough. Maybe he doesn’t realize we’ve been courting him.”

  Lyss snorted. “I made out with him like a shameless hussy the other night,” she reminded her husband, eyes sparkling with mischief. He couldn’t help a laugh. “If that didn’t make it clear enough for him, then all we need to do is drag him home and tie him to our bed. Which, I remind you, is what I suggested right from the start.”

  “Before we realized how much his ex traumatized him,” Ryder said softly, coming to a stop next to her. He sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist. “And yes, before you say it, I know we’ve been taking things slow for a reason. And it works out, right? We had plans for tonight, and so did he. We’ll see him again tomorrow.”

  She nodded, resting her cheek against his chest, small fingers threaded through his belt-loops. “Yes, we will. So, we’ll have fun with our friends at the club tonight, and we’ll see our man again tomorrow night.” She pulled back enough to look up at him. “We don’t have to bid, you know. We can tell Austin that we’ll make our donation privately. We can enjoy the eye candy tonight without participating directly.”

  “No, I’m afraid you can’t,” said a pleasant, deep voice from just behind them. Ryder looked around to find Tatum coming toward them, dressed in a sexy Armani suit with a white shirt underneath that had three buttons left undone. He looked like a blond Adonis dressed for a night out for drinks with James Bond. Tatum smiled at Ryder, though his blue eyes held something akin to stubborn determination.

  “What do you mean?” Lyss demanded, scowling at her cousin. “We aren’t required to bid.”

  Tatum stopped beside the two of them, both hands shoved in his pockets. His expression remained pleasant, though his eyes were hard as blue steel. “As two of the primary mentors for Club S, it would set a bad example if the others knew you weren’t going to bid,” he said, voice mild. “Besides, I can guarantee there will be at least one offering that will appeal to your tastes. Therefore you will, by command, bid on a slave in this auction. Are we clear?”

  Ryder stared at the other man, taken aback. Tatum rarely used his Dom voice. The only reason Ryder had ever heard it was because he’d trained with Tatum and Sidri, back when they were all relatively new to the lifestyle. He’d never heard Tatum speak like this, not this forcefully, and definitely not about a subject that should have held no interest for him. Why the hell did he care what Lyss and Ryder did tonight? What did it matter?

  “Tatum,” Lyss said, still scowling, “it’s none of your damn business what we do. We can make our donation later. We don’t have to bid. We’re not rich like the rest of you. The only reason we have memberships here is because you and Sidri paid for them, remember? We’re here to support you guys, but we don’t have to participate if we don’t want to. And besides, we met someone—”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Tatum said, cutting her off. His eyes were still hard. “I’ll make a deal with you. If you see a slave you wish to bid on, you can bid wh
atever you need to in order to win him. Sidri, Allen, and I will cover the expense in your name. Fair enough?”

  Ryder studied the other man closely. “What’s this about? Why are you doing this, Tatum? What’s going on?”

  “Do we have a deal?” Tatum asked instead of answering. “We’ll cover your bid on whichever slave you choose tonight. Fair trade, for your participation in this charitable event.”

  No way. Too easy. Ryder lifted his chin, meeting Tatum’s eyes with a steely glare of his own. “Fine. We’ll bid on Allen. He’s up first, right? You’ll cover our bid for him, and we can go…”

  “Absolutely not,” Tatum said flatly. “That’s a cheater’s way out, and you know it. And no bidding on Amber and Riley, either. Those three are off-limits. Anyone else is fair game, though.”

  “Why?” Lyss demanded. Ryder could feel her getting angrier, could feel her hands shaking where they still rested against Ryder’s sides. “Tatum, I told you, we met someone, okay? We don’t want to bid on someone here and risk—”

  “There’s no risk,” Tatum interrupted yet again. His tone brooked no argument. “I promise both of you this will be worth your while. Really, guys. I bet if you stop and think about it, you’ll realize what’s about to happen.”

  “Tatum, really, we have no idea what you’re…” Lyss began.

  He ignored her. “So, do we have a deal?”

  “Doesn’t seem like you’re giving us much of a choice,” Ryder grumbled. “Why don’t you just tell us who to bid on? That way we can get this whole mess over with and you can tell us what the fuck is going on.”

  Tatum grinned, flashing white teeth as he gestured toward the doors that led to the big ballroom where the auction was being held. “That would be cheating, wouldn’t it? Come on, both of you. Trust me on this. You’ll be glad you did this tonight. I guarantee it.”

  Grumbling, Ryder and Lyss followed him.