The Bondage Club

by Alexandrea Weis

  “What about the new line?” Hunter asked, timidly sliding his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. “Are you going to fight me on it?”

  Jim Donovan stood for a moment, observing his son. “You said this was your company, so let’s see what you do with it.”

  A swell of pride washed over Hunter. It was the first time in his life he could remember ever winning an argument with his father. It made him feel ten feet tall. “Thank you, Dad, for trusting me.”

  “Trust you?” Jim Donovan clucked, raising his eyebrows. “We’ll see about that. You just keep me updated on how this Hot Nights line does.” He turned for the door. “Maybe I’ll have to read one of Smut Slut’s books.”

  “Might make you blush, Dad.”

  Jim Donovan stopped at the office door. “Son, I could tell you a few things that would make you blush.” He turned his gaze to the two tall plants that filled the spot where his bookcase of statues used to be. “Glad to see you’ve finally made some changes around here.”

  “Don’t you want to know where I put your statues of Alexander?”

  “Not particularly.” His father grinned. “It’s your office now.”

  After his father had stepped through the door, Hunter returned to his desk infused with even more determination to make his new line a success.

  But how will it be a success without Cary by your side? The unwanted thought echoed about the hollows of his heart.

  Slumping down in his chair, Hunter’s enthusiasm fizzled. He hated to admit it but his father had been right; his heart wasn’t done with Cary despite what his head kept insisting.

  Flipping up his laptop, he spied the assortment of e-mails waiting in his inbox. When he spotted the one from Cary, he quickly opened it.

  Editing done. Final draft to you at end of the week.

  It was like all the other messages he had read from her; curt and cold. Could he spend the next two or three years being bothered by her every e-mail?

  “I have to do something about this,” he vowed, tapping his computer screen.

  But how did he convince her to give him another chance? He was better at walking away from relationships, not struggling to hold on to them. His mind raced ahead to their meeting at the cover shoot later that evening. It was a golden opportunity to change her mind about him.

  Easing back in his chair, he felt his eagerness return. “And if not tonight….”

  She was his writer after all, and as long as he published her books, Cary would have to interact with him. Sooner or later, Hunter was convinced she would have to give in.

  * * *

  Hunter entered through the black curtains of the Dungeon Club at The Hole, and was surprised to find the room lit up and the atmosphere only half as sinister as it had been that first night he had gone there with Cary. The blue neon lights had been turned off and the silver chains and handcuffs along the walls scintillated in the revealing glare of the photography lamps. The black couches and booths appeared a little dingy and the corner bar seemed a lot smaller. Scattered along the top of the black-painted bar were camera bags and a selection of different lenses, along with a light meter. Standing at the end of the bar beneath the blaze of the bright lights, and basking in the attention of a makeup woman and the photographer, was Smut Slut.

  With a silver chain around her neck, a black leather jumper, her blonde wig, and dark glasses, Hunter found it hard to believe that Cary was hiding underneath such a costume. But as his father’s words came back to him from earlier in the day, his eyes traveled the curves of face, along her fitted black leather dress, and down to her black, knee-high boots. He wondered why he had not seen the similarities before; it was obviously the same woman.

  “I’m such an idiot.”

  When she saw Hunter standing at the other end of the bar, she waved off the makeup woman touching up the shiny spots on her nose. Saying something he could not hear to the dark-haired man in jeans holding a camera next to her, Hunter waited as she came toward him, her heart-shaped red lips pressed tightly together.

  “You don’t need to be here. I can handle everything,” she said in a flat voice that sounded nothing like the sweet, high intonations he had grown addicted to in the past.

  He took her elbow, and firmly gripping her arm, pulled her to the side. “We need to talk.”

  She tried to fight against him, but after glancing back to see the photographer, his assistant, and her makeup woman taking in their every word, she allowed him to escort her to a discreet corner of the room.

  “We really have nothing to discuss,” she briskly informed him.

  He let go of her arm. “Bullshit.”

  Cary glimpsed the group by the bar. “Keep your voice down.”

  “You owe me an explanation, Cary,” he began, lowering his voice.

  “I don’t owe you a goddamned thing, Hunter.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me the truth from day one?”

  “You preferred what I am now to Cary Anderson.”

  “What?” he shouted. “You can’t believe that? I didn’t take Smut Slut to bed. I took you.”

  “But you wanted her. From that first day you saw me at the Book Expo you were attracted to Smut Slut, admit it. She was what you perceived a woman to be. But I—”

  “Will you take off that stupid wig and glasses?” he cut in. “I can’t talk to you like this.”

  “But this is the woman you want.” She placed her hands on her hips and stuck out her chest. “She’s the woman every man wants. Do you know how many times men have hit on me as this character, and then when they meet me as Cary, they won’t give me the time of day. You’re no different than the rest.”

  “I am different, and I did get to know Cary Anderson, not this…drag queen you pretend to be. I like Cary. I like being with her and talking to her. You hide behind this persona because you’re too damned afraid to show the world who you really are; just like you’re too afraid to publish a book under your real name.”

  “I may be scared of putting my name out there as a writer, but you’re just as scared of putting your heart on the line with a woman.” She adjusted the sunglasses on her face. “Now if you will excuse me, I have a cover to shoot.”

  “This isn’t over, Cary.”

  “It’s over, Hunter. Go back to selling books. It’s what you’re good at.”

  As she walked away, an invisible weight pressed down in the center of Hunter’s chest. There was more he needed to say to her. He wanted her to know how much she had changed him. Cary had chased away the foggy cloud that had been enshrouding him. She had re-awakened all the dreams he had harbored before taking over Donovan Books. He wanted to write again, to create, and to have a chance to be the man he always knew he could be. But how could he tell her all of that?

  The photographer positioned Smut Slut at the end of the bar and adjusted her shoulders. As the flash of the camera lit up the room, Hunter’s anger returned. But instead of rushing to the bar and forcing her to listen, he returned to the black curtains at the entrance. He was about to step through them when a short man, carrying a heavy tray of glasses, appeared in the doorway.

  “Hey, sorry,” the muscular man said as he moved out of Hunter’s way.

  “No problem,” Hunter mumbled.

  “Are you here with Cary’s group?” He smiled and nodded to Cary dressed as Smut Slut. “Or should I call her Smuttie during this photo shoot?”

  Hunter noted the man’s black leather chaps and silver chain necklace. “You know about Cary?”

  He put the tray of glasses on a nearby table. “Yeah I know.” He held out his hand to Hunter. “I’m Wes, the manager here.”

  “Hunter Donovan, owner of Donovan Books.” He shook Wes’s hand. “We’re publishing her new book.”

  “Yeah, she told me. Cary’s a regular, and the one who asked me to set up the shoot for her.” He motioned to the tray of glasses on the table. “I usually run the bar back here a few nights a week; that’s how we met.” He folded
his thick, hairy arms over his chest. “The first time she came in wearing that outfit I laughed out loud. After a while we got to talking and she told me why she dressed that way. I even read one of her books.” He held up his wide hands. “Not my thing, but hey, my wife loved it.”

  “I’m surprised she said anything to you. She’s very…guarded about being Smut Slut,” Hunter admitted

  “Well, when she first came in, I was worried about her hanging with this crowd. They can get a little rough, so I kept an eye on her. When she came in one night as Cary and not Smuttie, I pretty much figured it out right away. But I can understand why she dresses that way.”

  Hunter smirked. “You can?”

  “Sure. It’s tough being a woman doing what she does. No one takes her seriously; at least that’s what she told me. She said that it was easier to be Smuttie. She could lay it on the line as Smuttie and not be criticized.”

  Hunter remembered how outspoken Cary had been as Smut Slut. “But she can’t hide behind her alter ego forever.”

  Smut Slut pouted her red lips and struck a sexy pose for the camera.

  “She’s not hiding; she’s giving people what they want…the fantasy,” Wes clarified. “I’ve seen how men interacted with her at my bar, expecting her to be the woman she appeared to be, and she gave them that. I think she was trying to figure out a way to be Cary and Smut Slut, so she could please a man. Lucky man that gets those two women; he gets the best of both worlds.” Wes hefted the tray of glasses. “I’ve got to set up for tonight. Good meeting you, Mr. Donovan.”

  Wes walked over to the end of the bar and put the tray down as the photographer snapped some more pictures of Cary. Turning from the room, Hunter walked through the black curtains. As he rushed out of the building, the bartender’s words kept repeating in Hunter’s head. Then, an idea struck him.

  He thought of his book and how he had intended to write about a man searching for purpose in his life, but the main character of Stone became so caught up in his quest that he lost sight of what he was hunting for in the first place. Starting the engine of his roadster, Hunter wondered if the character of Stone might have been better suited to a woman; a woman pretending to be someone she wasn’t in order to find love.

  Hunter’s deep, boisterous laughter rolled about the small car. “Damn, I think I just found my inspiration.”

  Anxious for home, Hunter gunned the car out of the parking lot. He needed to get back to his book.

  Chapter 17

  The cooling breezes of September teased the city of Atlanta with hopes of the fall weather ahead. As Hunter beheld the sleek copper and neon entrance to Thrive Restaurant, he grinned. Having purposefully planned the launch party for Smut Slut’s new book at the restaurant, he knew Cary would be reminded of the time they had dined there. As he strolled through the main entrance, he felt that usual sense of frustration pull at his heart whenever he thought of her. The two and a half months since the photo shoot had been productive for him, and the launch of the Hot Nights line had taken up most of his time, but he still missed her. Many times he had reached for his cell phone to call her, but would always change his mind. He had to make her want to come back to him.

  The lounge-like dining room had been cleared of furniture and the chrome tables had been set against the side to be used as a buffet line. White plush couches and chairs were strategically placed about the room, and set out on the chrome sushi bar were display posters of The Bondage Club book cover. At the back of the room, a long table was piled high with paperback copies of the book for signing.

  “We have everything just as you requested, Mr. Donovan,” a slender blonde in a short black dress that accentuated her long legs said to Hunter as he surveyed the room.

  “It looks great, Angelique.” Hunter gave the blonde a sexy smile, accentuating his dimples. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”

  Her pink lips curved into a bewitching grin. “Mixed drinks and wine will be served at the bar while appetizers are passed around by the waitstaff. After you have finished with the introduction and signing, the buffet will be opened to serve your guests, and coffee will be brought out an hour after dinner.” Her blue eyes searched his. “I hope that will be satisfactory.”

  “Perfect, Angelique.” He rubbed his hands together. “My staff and a few other guests, as well as our author, will be arriving early.”

  Angelique waved a slender arm toward the main bar to the right of the entrance. “They should be ready to serve drinks at the bar in about ten more minutes for your early guests.” Her eyes swerved back to him. “I’ll be here all evening, Mr. Donovan, to handle any problems.”

  “Thank you, Angelique.”

  “And I will be available after the party,” she assured him with a hopeful tone in her smooth voice. “In case there is anything else you need.”

  Hunter’s gut twitched at the thrill of Angelique’s proposition, but then Cary’s deep chocolate eyes came to mind. The idea of taking the slender blonde up on her offer suddenly lacked the satisfaction of being with Cary. Giving the woman a fleeting smile, he added, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Two men wearing black T-shirts emerged from deep in the restaurant and eased behind the glass and chrome bar at the entrance to the main dining room. Angelique gave Hunter a brief nod and then headed to the bar. As she walked away, he wondered what was wrong with him. Why was he turning down such an attractive woman? But he knew where a night with Angelique would lead and he didn’t want that kind of relationship anymore. He needed to share his thoughts and dreams with someone, and not just his bed.

  As Angelique oversaw the bar preparations, Jesse walked in the entrance on the arm of a dark-eyed beauty with luscious olive skin, silky black hair, and a tight, muscular figure. Sporting a fitted suit that showed off his eye-popping physique, Jesse waved when he spotted Hunter in the main dining room.

  “Quite a spread,” Jesse stated while firmly shaking Hunter’s hand. He turned to the stunning woman next to him. “This is a friend from my club, Max.”

  Hunter took her hand. “Max, it’s a pleasure.”

  “Thanks for having me, Mr. Donovan.”

  “Hunter, please, Max.”

  “Is Cary coming?” Jesse asked.

  Hunter shook his head. “I seriously doubt it.”

  “I can’t wait to meet this Smut Slut woman. Heard a lot about her from Cary.” Jesse pointed to the woman next to him. “Max has read all of her books.”

  “When he told me who this party was for, I made the big lug bring me.” Max elbowed Jesse’s side.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Hunter saw his father and Chris enter the restaurant. He politely smiled at Jesse and Max. “Excuse me, my father just walked in.”

  “Can’t believe he came,” Jesse commented.

  “Neither can I,” Hunter mumbled.

  As Hunter hurried to the entrance, he saw the way his father was taking in the restaurant. The discerning glint in his eyes made Hunter cringe. Here we go, Hunter thought. He’s going to rip everything to shreds.

  “Dad.” Hunter nodded to his father. “Glad you made it.” He eyed his brother’s double-breasted charcoal suit and Windsor knotted black silk tie. “Chris, why are you here?”

  “I asked him to bring me along,” Jim Donovan confessed. “It seems your brother is representing your new author.”

  “What?” Hunter moved toward his brother. “Since when?”

  Chris raised both his hands, attempting to soothe his brother’s fury. “Hey, calm down. She called me. She wanted representation for future events. Seems she expects to go far with our publishing house and said she wanted me to get her some more publicity.” Chris cracked a lecherous smile. “Very interesting woman. We met for lunch last week and inked a two-year contract.” He patted Hunter on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, little brother. I’ll make her look good, so she sells a lot of books.”

  The clink of glasses from the bar to the right distracted the men. Two thick-necked bartenders waited
at the ready behind the bar for the party to begin.

  “I’ll just get something to drink,” Chris declared and then turned to his father. “What do you want, Dad?”

  “Just soda water,” Jim Donovan commented.

  Chris patted his father’s shoulder and then veered toward the bar. After he was out of earshot, Hunter shifted his focus to his father.

  “Does he know about Cary and Smut Slut?”

  Jim Donovan snorted as he placed both of his hands on his cane. “Are you kidding? Your brother has his moments, but where women are concerned he only sees form and function; he’s blind to anything else.” He shook his head. “I’m sure one day he’ll catch on though. She can’t hide behind that wig and glasses forever.”

  “I think she likes keeping everyone from knowing who she really is.”

  “But she showed you who she really is, didn’t she?” He raised one hand from his cane and waved about the restaurant. “That’s why you’re doing all of this. The new book line, the new website, it’s all been for her, hasn’t it?”

  Hunter avoided his father’s piercing eyes and hunched his shoulders while shoving his hands in the pockets of his dark blue suit trousers. “No, I wanted the new line long before I met Cary. She just…helped bring it to life.”

  “Bring it to life?” Jim Donovan tapped his cane on the stone floor. “That’s what your mother did for me. She brought my dreams to life.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was working this dead end job selling textbooks for a local publishing house when I met your mother. I always dreamed of owning a publishing company and your mother believed I could do it. She’s the reason Donovan Books exists today.”

  Hunter was floored by the acknowledgement. “You never told me that before. I always thought you were the force behind the company.”

  “No, she was.” He paused and his stern eyes softened. “Your mother and I had to get married because she got pregnant with your brother. After Chris was born, I thought I would never be able to afford opening a publishing house. But your mother kept encouraging me, saving our money, and making plans for the business. Hell, she even signed my first author. My Gracie helped me bring my dream to life, just like Cary helped bring yours to life.”