Ties That Bind: Club Risqué Book Three

by Flynn, Poppy

  She had a brief flashback to the scene in Logan's hotel suite this past weekend, how the mood and the desire had simply caught up and overtaken them both. Luanna blinked and wondered if the same might happen here. She felt her colour rising slightly at the thought. It was a possibility, she supposed. And if the feeling just overcame them both, then would she still feel the embarrassment, or would that simply be washed away by the heat of passion? Of course, here, she fully intended to keep all her clothes on, or whatever costume they eventually settled upon. At least telling herself that made her feel slightly better.

  She had met an amazing assortment of people tonight. People of all ages, all sizes, all abilities and gender differentiation. She didn’t mind admitting that she had been surprised at the diversity. It had been quite an eye opener. Maybe it was short sighted of her to think that this was just a young person’s playground, but the inclusiveness of the club was quite impressive, and the accepting nature of the entire clientele was a breath of fresh air. Seeing the diverse mixture had gone a long way to helping her feel more at ease. This was a place where literally almost anything went, as long as it was between consenting adults, and there was no fear of persecution for anybody’s particular peculiarities. The mix was eclectic; there were gay and lesbian couples, transgender and gender free patrons. There were couples and even singles that must have been well into their pensions. There was no body shaming, and it was refreshing to witness how comfortable everybody was, whatever their age or body type. Yes, there were those who were rigid in their following of some of the lifestyle protocols that were covered in the training sessions, like the kneeling and poses, but there were also just as many who didn’t follow convention. It occurred to Luanna that some of those kneeling positions…even just the act of kneeling, itself, wasn’t that easy for everyone because of age or ability or a host of other reasons. The important thing was that there was no pressure to perform or conform; there was mutual respect, regardless. Luanna had even met an amazing man whom Logan had introduced as Master Storer. He had rolled up to them in an all singing, all dancing wheelchair. And despite his small stature, which Logan had explained was due to a condition called osteogenesis imperfecta, he was a totally larger than life character with his brightly dyed red goatee beard and his amazingly long tongue, which he had taken a wicked delight in waggling at her before they took their leave.

  They were about to call it a night and see if Micah was available before they left, when the man himself came flying into the private foyer off of which branched the offices, the surveillance control sector, staff areas and stock rooms and all the additional spaces that housed the business side of the venue. The contrast was startling. The area was obviously soundproofed since the heavy beat and clash of music and the crescendo of shrieks and spanks and the animated chatter and cheer of hundreds of people didn't penetrate at all into this quiet, very ordinary corner of the building.

  The club's psychologist-cum-manager was not at all what Luanna had imagined. Micah Flynn was built like a bodybuilder, but he looked like a surfer, with overlong blond hair which had a tendency to curl and habitually laughing eyes that were a deep, chocolate brown with lashes so long they would be the envy of any woman. He gave off an easy aura, and she immediately liked him, which said a lot, since she tended to be reserved with people until she knew them better—a throwback to her teen mum years when the snubs and slurs had often come where they were least expected. She was learning quickly that this particular lifestyle, undoubtedly because of its very image, was unusually non-judgemental. Another factor that drew her in and comforted her after the years of criticism and condemnation she had endured.

  An expression of sheer relief crossed Micah's handsome face. "Great, I've caught you," he exclaimed. "We've got a bit of a situation."

  Micah looked from Logan to Luanna, and she clearly saw the indecision in his expression and the way he made a swift evaluation and shrugged it away. "We need some legal advice," he declared. "Security caught a woman trying to enter the club as a guest with false ID. Turns out, she's a reporter."

  He didn't elaborate any further, but she heard Logan mutter a curse under his breath then look between Micah and herself, obviously torn between his obligations.

  "I'll be fine," Luanna said, waving him ahead. "I don't mind waiting."

  Logan looked uncomfortable. "You're not a member; you can't stay in the club without a chaperone."

  Luanna blinked and took a moment to comprehend his words. She hadn't considered that problem. "Oh, well…" she started awkwardly. "Perhaps you could call a taxi for me or something."

  Micah frowned then glanced at Logan. "Cha-cha is about to leave for the same reason," he disclosed. "She's taking Fluff home; maybe she could give you a lift, too?"

  Luanna had no idea who 'Cha-cha' was, but she recognised Fluff as being the pseudonym of her colleague, Laurel Stanton, so at least she wouldn't be with complete strangers.

  "Are you sure she won't mind?" Luanna queried.

  "I'm positive." Micah smiled. "And I think you'll find that you know each other."

  The idea had Luanna intrigued.

  "They went down to the ladies changing room to collect Fluff's belongings, so perhaps Logan could escort you over there, before he joins me?"

  Logan nodded. "Of course."

  He guided her by the elbow, back toward the main entrance. "I'm really sorry about this," he murmured as they reached locker room door. "It must seem that something comes up every time we come here. I promise, it's not usually like this."

  Luanna gave a small smile. She'd bet that having a handy lawyer on the membership, who was a personal friend of the owners, was a distinct advantage to an establishment like this, where an uninvolved solicitor might have problems overcoming his or her ignorance of the lifestyle.

  "Don't worry," she reassured him. "It's not late; I'll see you when you get home."

  She said it without thinking, he knew, but Logan couldn't help the little glow that warmed his heart when she referred to her apartment as their home. He hoped that someday in the not so distant future, they would be able to move into a place that really was just that. Their home, a fresh start. A bright, new future for the two of them to share.

  Chapter 10

  Luanna managed to contain her surprise, but her smile was warm as none other than Charlotte Chapman accompanied Laurel out of the changing rooms.

  Logan inclined his head politely to each of the women but made a hasty exit, keen to get matters dealt with so he could get back to Luanna. There weren't many times in his life when he resented his job or his obligations, but tonight was one of them. He and Luanna had just ironed out their differences and started to maintain an even keel. He didn't want anything to interrupt that progress or threaten to capsize it.

  Luanna's smile faded as she got a better look at Laurel. The girl was clearly distraught and displaying an unusually lost and forlorn appearance that was completely at odds with her normally bouncy and cheerful personality.

  "Laurel?" Luanna began, with concern, but trailed off as Charlotte gave a discreet shake of her head.

  Luanna frowned. Laurel had been out of sorts at work this past week or so, too. A sliver of guilt snaked through her that she had been so wrapped up in her new-found security with Logan that she hadn't paid more attention to the girl's troubles, which had clearly taken a turn for the worse. She'd put it down to the initial stress of having to carry the bulk of the workload, now that Desi had gone on her honeymoon. That, and the fact that, despite Connor coming on board to cover Desi's absence and despite Laurel only being her PA, the truth of the matter was that Laurel was the one with all the contacts and the inside knowledge and the human connection to all the deals that were currently on the table. That stress was sure to be doubled since they had just received word that Joel and Desi had decided to extend their honeymoon to eight weeks. Luanna had never imagined that Laurel wasn't one hundred percent capable of handling things. For all of her bubbly and playful n
ature, when it came to the job, Laurel was ruthlessly organised and staunchly dedicated. She truly was Desi's right hand.

  No, clearly, whatever was going on with Laurel was more far reaching than a simple work issue.

  Holding her tongue and her apprehension, Luanna helped Charlotte settle Laurel into the backseat of her car, then climbed in beside her. Intuition guided Luanna to stick close to her for moral support as all her maternal instincts kicked in and the younger girl curled in on herself and into Luanna like a child, while Luanna enveloped her in a motherly embrace and rubbed soothing hands down Laurel's back.

  "I'll drop you home, first; I don't want to leave her on her own," Charlotte said from the driver's seat.

  "Are you sure you can manage?" Luanna queried with genuine concern. "I could come back with you, get Logan to pick me up en route or something."

  "No, I'll be fine," Charlotte insisted. "I'll stay with her as long as she needs. Overnight, if necessary. I don't have anyone to get back to, so it won't be a problem."

  "What about getting her into the house?"

  "I'll manage. She's not drunk or violent or anything, just upset,"

  "Do you know what the problem is?" Luanna asked, eyeing Laurel, who appeared to have fallen into a fitful, uneasy sleep.

  "Not really," Charlotte replied, eying the pair in the backseat, not wanting to speak in front of Laurel, in case she was still awake. Luanna caught her eye and silently nodded her understanding.

  "Perhaps you could ring me later and let me know that she's all right," she conceded as they pulled up in front of Luanna's apartment.

  "Of course," Charlotte agreed.

  Luanna didn't get a chance to speak to Logan until they were driving to work together the following morning. It had been late when he finally got back, and she'd given up waiting for him and gone to bed. He had his own key.

  Neither had she heard from Charlotte, but it occurred to her that it was entirely possible the other woman didn't have her contact information. Desi had given her Charlotte's number, but the emphasis had been on Luanna to make contact. Contemplating the events of the previous evening while Logan drove, she decided to give Charlotte a courtesy call later on and check on Laurel, once she got into the office. That just left Logan.

  "Was everything okay at the club last night, in the end?" she queried. "Did you manage to sort out their issues?"

  "The club takes its privacy policy very seriously," he told her. "Many of the members want and expect anonymity. Certainly no one wants their private life dragged through the gutter press. They'll take a hard line with this case, if nothing else but to make an example of how any infringements will be handled. Both for the members' peace of mind as much as to prove to the paparazzi that they're unlikely to get away with any incursions, both in gaining access to the club as well as in publishing any potential scandal story."

  Logan sighed and added, almost absently, "One of the owners had a really terrible experience with this kind of shit. Even though it was over a decade ago and his family managed to get a gag order to stop any names from going into print. There was enough knowledge that the reporter, who had posed as a student in order to get close to her targets, had been involved in a relationship with her mark. Even though names were withheld, she still got a story into print, which made claims of perversions, abuse and exploitation. There was enough innuendo and speculation to create a very severe backlash."

  Logan stopped short and cleared his throat, as if he realised he was divulging too much. "Anyway, the man was a friend of mine; I saw what he went through. He almost lost everything. He did lose the job he'd been groomed for all his life and his relationships are plagued by the repercussions of that story, even to this day. Damn reporter almost destroyed his life."

  Luanna could hear the bitterness in Logan's voice and was surprised at the ferocity. The people who owned the club must be very close friends of his, indeed. It almost surprised her that she didn't know who they were. She wasn't aware of him spending any personal time with anyone other than Joel, Jake and Connor, but then again, he was a thousand miles away from home; it made sense that's where his friends would be, too.

  Logan thumped his fist on the steering wheel, making her jump. "All so that she could further her pitiful damn career." He realised he was getting irate, and he paused and took a breath as he pulled the vehicle into the reserved parking bay outside the Blackwood Universal building. He turned off the engine and dragged a hand through his caramel coloured hair. "It's safe to say the club will throw the book at anyone trying to broker scandal and gossip, and they have deep enough pockets that they won't even blink at the cost."

  It was almost lunchtime before Luanna found five minutes where she could leave her office for long enough to scoot across to the plush directors' area of the finance floor. At first, she thought she'd left too late and Laurel had taken an early lunch, but a barrage of rather loud cursing had her hurrying to Desi's office, to find Connor hurling profanities at both his computer terminal and Laurel's name.

  "Connor!" Luanna exclaimed in mild shock. "Is everything okay?" She peered around the large corner office, but there was no sign of Laurel, so evidently, he wasn't throwing the expletives in the girl's face, at least.

  Connor scowled and bellowed, "It's about damn time you got your tardy ass…" He looked up before he finished the tirade and bit off the rest of the words, sucking in a harsh breath while his eyes widened in surprise and then flashed discomfiture as he realised it was Luanna at the door and not his PA.

  The shock on Luanna's face was unmissable. Her eyebrows had hitched so high that her brow furrowed, and her mouth hung open. Her stance was defensive as she hovered half in, half out of the doorway as if she was about to bolt, her elegant hands pressed against her chest in appalled dismay.

  Connor raised his hands in supplication. "I'm sorry, Luanna, I'm a little stressed. That was completely uncalled for, I know. Please forgive me."

  Luanna straightened, but her expression was still very obviously disgusted. "No problem, I was actually looking for Laurel," she replied stiffly, not wanting to voice her concern for the girl, which had now tripled in the face of what she'd just heard.

  Connor rubbed both his hands across his face. "She's not in today," he informed. "She called in sick, this morning."

  "Is there anything I can help you with?" Luanna offered uncomfortably, since etiquette and Connor's status as a director dictated that she should, even though her gut reaction was to get as far away from the offensive situation as possible with a possible detour to the HR department on the way back to her office. Regardless of his position, maybe even because of it, it was completely inappropriate for him to speak to any member of staff in that manner, even if it had been directed at the woman he was most probably having an affair with. And if he was involved with Laurel, as rumour implied, then quite frankly, he should be treating her all the better for it, not worse.

  "I'm trying to access information on the Hanson account," he intoned politely. "I can't do it, however, without Laurel's passcodes."

  Luanna gave a terse nod. "I'll e-mail you the information I have in finance when I get back to my office," she said somewhat woodenly, but she couldn't help that right now. All she could think about was Laurel and how distraught she'd been last night, how very unlike herself she'd been for the past week, maybe ten days—whatever. The period of time still ran almost concurrently with Connor's appearance. Had Laurel been having to deal with the kind of verbal abuse she'd just caught the tip of since Desi left?

  "Of course, the idiosyncratic stuff, you'd only get from Laurel," she continued. "And I dare say a lot of that is personal insight and only exists in her head."

  Connor cursed again, albeit under his breath this time. Luanna fixed him with a blank look and backed out of the door. "I'll go and get that done now." She excused herself and made a hasty exit.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, she grabbed her mobile phone and searched Charlotte's number.

&nb
sp; She replayed that ten-minute conversation in her head as she relayed the pertinent files regarding the Hanson takeover to Connor via the internal mail system.

  Charlotte had been reluctant to say very much, partly through natural discretion, partly mindful of the non-disclosure agreement she had signed with the club. It had taken Luanna pointing out that she had been at the club last night, she had seen the state that Laurel had been in with her own eyes, and now Laurel had called in sick. Without going into detail, Luanna had also outlined the offensive way in which Connor had spoken to her, when he had mistakenly thought she was Laurel. It was that which seemed to tip the scale for Charlotte.

  "Look, I really don't know exactly what's going on," Charlotte had finally admitted. "Laurel talked about a lot of stuff—well, ranted, really—but she spoke as if I already knew what she was talking about, you know what I mean?"

  Luanna had just made appropriate noises of agreement, once Charlotte was started.

  "She said how 'he', and I'll tell you now, she never once actually gave any names, just that 'he' was making things difficult at work, criticizing her work, her clothes, her hours, her lunch breaks…everything and anything he could possibly find fault with was how she put it."