by Poppy Flynn
It was inevitable that the sale and refurbishment of 'Perversions' into the new Club Risqué would provoke some interest.
The scale of the project and the range of tradespeople who needed to be involved had made it impossible to keep the venture as quiet as they would have liked and the anonymity surrounding the new buyers only fanned speculation into their identities.
Besides, they'd managed to nip that one in the bud. Their new membership checks had proven to be worthwhile and reliable and their imposter had been caught with no harm done, so that particular bullet had been dodged…until the next time.
And there would be a next time, of that, Jake was certain. If there was one thing he had learned to accept long ago, it was that when you thwarted these kinds of schemes, the perpetrators usually became all the more determined.
The situation that had blown up involving Laurel Stanton, Desi's long time PA at Blackwood Universal was an entirely different matter. What the hell was Connor playing at?
It was Laurel's sudden resignation that had Jake back on a plane to the East Coast in full trouble-shooting mode.
Laurel had been a trusted member of Desi's team at Universal for years. Jake knew for a fact that for at least the past four years, when Desi had made promotion, she had it written into her contract that Laurel moved with her.
They were a team—an excellent one—and with Desi and Joel on their honeymoon and Connor holding the reins temporarily, Laurel's input was vital, because she was the one with all the inside knowledge. She knew what Desi was working on, how those projects were progressing, and with Desi away, Laurel was the only one with those unique and personal insights that couldn't be summed up in a report. She was the one with the exclusive, informal observations that often made all the difference when a buyout was in the balance. Never mind all the other duties she breezed through.
Jake knew first hand just how hard Desi had worked over the past few years, how many fifteen-hour days she had put in, how many lunch breaks she missed. If Desi, with her complete workaholic mentality, saw fit to keep Laurel by her side, then you could bet your back teeth there was a damn good reason for it. And while Connor might have stepped in as the temporary captain of this ship, he was pretty certain that it was Laurel who had been steering it…and now she was gone. And it was down to Jake, in his troubleshooting capacity, to get them out of this mess.
But just what the hell had gone wrong? Desi and Laurel had been a force to be reckoned with for a very long time. Laurel was unquestionably loyal to Desi, going to lengths that even Desi wouldn't have asked of her, things that most certainly weren't in her job description. Like picking up Desi's dry cleaning or grabbing her boss some lunch when she was just too busy to get around to it herself, thoughtful little things that helped matters run smoothly and saved Desi one more headache.
So, what on earth could have caused this unexpected turn of events? The merger had gone ahead without any great upheaval several months ago, so he didn't think it was that. And Desi's honeymoon had been carefully planned so that it didn't impact on any of the more major deals or cause any other significant upheaval.
The only other variable factor in this scenario was Connor, and Jake had a very nasty feeling that that was where the trouble lay. The problem was just how was he supposed to get around it?
Connor was his friend, a shareholder and director in his own right, and Jake was damn sure Connor knew better than to give even a first rung mail runner the means to claim constructive dismissal. And with Desi as her champion, there was no way, in this lifetime, that Laurel was in any way lacking when it came to her work or her work ethic.
Which brought him right back around to the initial question. What the hell was going on and how had the proverbial shit hit the fan so damn fast?
Jake stalked into Club Risqué that evening after a frustrating day trying to iron things out at Blackwood Universal.
So far, Laurel Stanton was refusing to reconsider her resignation, vaguely citing irreconcilable differences as her justification—like this was a damn divorce—and Connor was being unusually tight lipped about what the issues surrounding her sudden decision might be, leading Jake to further suspect that his friend had somehow contributed to the whole clusterfuck and leaving Jake in an awkward position regarding how to proceed.
Right now, all he wished for was an agreeable, available sub with whom he could wield his signal whip and work off his frustrations. Ideally, one who would hold his interest and allow him his own escape, although, in the back of his mind, he wondered if that was even attainable these days since his personal gratification sensor seemed to have gone completely offline for quite some time now. Heading for Micah's office, he just hoped his old friend and manager could hook him up with someone suitable.
"Jake!" Micah greeted, pulling him into a man hug and slapping him on the back. "Good to see you, buddy."
Jake couldn't help grinning back. His old protégé was in fine form and looked happier and more relaxed than he'd seen him for a long while.
"Micah," Jake acknowledged. "You look…content. The job must be agreeing with you, or is it this new sub that I've been hearing so much about?" Jake waggled his eyebrows suggestively, but Micah just sat back in his leather office chair, hooking one foot over his knee as he smiled with satisfaction.
"Things are good," Micah confirmed. "And Cha-Cha is…"
"Ah! So, that's her name," Jake interrupted. "I was beginning to think this place had been overrun with romantics! All I keep hearing are stories about an angel, dressed in innocence, that every Dom in the damn place has been trying, without luck, to get his hands on because you've claimed her as your own." Jake brushed aside the small stab of envy at Micah's good fortune but couldn't help voicing his uncertainty. "I was more than a little surprised, I must say, that you've chosen to take on a sub, under the circumstances."
Micah knew Jake was concerned with more than just how it would affect his ability to manage the club effectively and there, at least, he was quick to put his boss at ease.
"It's just a temporary situation," he assured Jake. "In fact, it makes my job easier right now. Cha-Cha caused quite a stir, as you obviously already know, since she's even been brought to your attention. I took her on as a trainee, first, because of her circumstances and, second, because she had an interest in the whip, but she's certainly no masochist." Micah smiled in retrospect. "To be honest, my first choice as her trainer would have been you, if you'd been around on a more reliable basis."
Jake raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"
"Sure," Micah confirmed. "You'd have been a perfect fit for each other, and I'm not just saying that with my psychology hat on." He winked at his friend.
She was a bit of a neophyte, if she was only just out of training, but Jake welcomed the small flicker of appeal he experienced. It was the most interest he'd drummed up for a sub in a long time, if he was honest with himself. And actually, the idea of guiding someone fresh to the lifestyle seemed invigorating. A chance to view everything through new eyes again, and not ones which had become jaded with time. Of course, he was also getting slightly ahead of himself.
Jake narrowed his eyes at Micah. "So, she's available now or still in training?" he queried.
"Technically, she's finished training, but I agreed to extend her contract since my obligations here at the club mean that I haven't been able to devote as much time as she would have liked to the practical element of scening within the club environment." Micah pursed his lips. "I also agreed to extend her contract because the Doms in this place are bloody panting after her like dogs over a bone. She's really not ready for that kind of attention and I don't have time to mediate the amount of fallout I know it will cause." He looked at Jake speculatively. "She also has intercourse as a negotiable soft limit and some scarring that I was worried might lead to triggers if not handled properly."
"She has issues?" Jake asked, ploughing the fingers of his right hand through his thick hair and making it just a li
ttle roguishly dishevelled.
Micah frowned and shook his head. "I don't think so." He paused and thought before carefully selecting his words, remembering that Jake was his boss as well as his friend and needed to have faith in his ability to read prospective clients. "She certainly didn't have a conventional upbringing, not by any stretch of the imagination. She lived in an excessively repressive and abusive commune run by a now disbanded cult for her most influential teen years. It doesn't seem to have affected her except in making it difficult for her to cede control which, as a natural submissive, caused an obvious oppositional conflict in her day to day life. If anything, coming here has been extremely beneficial for her."
Jake frowned, adjusting himself in his seat for comfort as he tried to get his head around what Micah was telling him about their new member, his interest piqued.
"And the triggers?" he queried, rubbing his chin.
"None that we've found so far, though obviously, it's paid to be careful. But, no, not even when she was introduced to the whip, which she took beautifully, I might add. She's just not the type who's comfortable diving into a sexual relationship with a complete stranger. She needs to build a certain level of trust first."
Jake chuckled and leaned back in his seat. "Yes, I've heard several accounts of how well she took your whip. She must be very responsive if you managed to bring her to climax with it on her very first outing."
Micah couldn't help looking smug. "Sub-space, too. Between you and me, Jake, the only reason I'm not making her my permanent submissive is that my gut—and my doctorate—tell me that she's the type who's going to form emotional attachments of a more romantic kind to any Dom she's contracted to, and I do care far too much about her to see her get hurt because I can't give her that."
Jake raised his eyebrows at Micah's frank confession and noted the brief flare of sadness that flitted across his face. This girl must be pretty special to have elicited such a response in his friend.
"Cha-Cha and I have an agreement that I'll introduce her to suitable Doms and, though she would probably deny it, I know that involves finding someone who's not opposed to a more conventional relationship with her at the same time."
"Good luck with that one." Jake sniggered and tried to lighten the mood that had suddenly taken a dip as Micah's memories obviously touched on his past. Still, he knew from his own personal experience that most of the singletons in this lifestyle only came to play.
Groaning, Jake felt the day catching up with him again. Leaning forward and changing the subject, he implored, "Please tell me you have a suitable sub available for me to take out my frustrations on. And not a masochist!" Jake held up his hands in supplication. "I don't have the tolerance this evening to concentrate on getting one of those off. This is strictly for me; I just need someone who can take things at my pace."
As much as Jake loved his whip, Micah knew his boss was no sadist. He took no joy in beating a sub for the hell of it. He simply found it far too tiring.
"Maybe one of the club subs." Jake made a quick mental assessment of the subs who might be suitable. "Perhaps Fluff or Trinity?" he queried, knowing either of them could give him what he sought.
Micah regarded Jake speculatively, an idea brewing in his mind. "Trinity's not working tonight, and Fluff hasn't been in for the past week." Micah frowned as Jake lay his head against the back of his chair and growled.
"Please don't tell me that her absence has anything to do with Connor!"
"Well, I could tell you that," Micah replied drolly. "But it wouldn't necessarily be true."
Jake sat up straight again and looked his manager in the eye. "What happened?" he demanded.
Micah shifted uncomfortably. Technically, Connor and Jake were equally his bosses and it didn't sit well with him to be talking about one to the other.
"Micah!" Jake cautioned. "If there's an issue that might affect the club, I need to know about it. That kind of shit can't be kept quiet just because it involves one of us four, dammit. And I'm in a far better position to deal with it than you are," he finished quietly, softening his manner with understanding.
Micah rubbed his forehead and nodded, knowing Jake was right. The club's pursuit of excellence needed to incorporate everyone without exception, otherwise, it failed everybody, and its integrity was compromised.
Exhaling noisily, he relented. "There was an incident last week. I don't know as much about it as I should since it was the same night the reporter tried getting into the club, so I was busy dealing with that." Micah taped his index finger against his mouth and considered. "I went into the staff lounge to send Cha-Cha home, since she couldn't go into the dungeon without a chaperone and I was waylaid, dealing with the fallout. I found her comforting Fluff, who, I have to say, was in a worse state than I've ever seen an experienced club sub in."
Micah paused, thinking. "She was obviously distressed, but Cha-Cha offered to take her home and make sure she was okay. I had planned to check in with Fluff when she came in the next evening, but she hasn't turned up since," he sighed. "I asked Cha-Cha what the problem was, but all she would tell me was that Fluff was upset since the other Doms wouldn't scene with her because Connor had left bite marks—possession marks—all over her." Micah looked Jake in the eye. "Reading between the lines, I'm guessing there's more. I can tell you that Connor and Fluff had been playing exclusively since he turned up a couple of weeks ago, and you know as well as I do that they always sought each other out when he was in town."
Jake nodded his agreement as Micah continued. He also knew that their relationship wasn't just restricted to the club.
"I watched that last scene they did together. Fluff granted Connor liberties she wouldn't normally have allowed, and she was marked significantly from neck to ankle. I can also tell you that when I went to find Connor for a meeting regarding the business with the reporter, he was undertaking a scheduled scene with a fussy but influential client who had altered her preferences at the last minute and decided she wanted a spanking given by a Dom rather than a Mistress."
Jake frowned, screwing up his entire face. "So, putting two and two together, you think Fluff got into a snit because she saw Connor playing with somebody else?" he asked.
"There's more to it than that, I can guarantee," Micah replied, with a hint of censure at Jake's glib summary as he stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles in front of him.
"Fluff is an experienced club sub. It's not like she doesn't understand the subtleties of independent scening and D/s relationships, and she's not the type for petty jealousies over a favoured Dom." Micah shook his head. "And it was more than just being in a 'snit'; she was seriously distraught," he pointed out, raising his eyebrows. "And since she hasn't returned here since, I'd say it's obvious something pretty significant is troubling her. You can ask Cha-Cha if she can shed any further light on the matter but, if you're really worried, surely, you could always have a private word at the office?"
Jake shook his head and closed his eyes. "She quit!" he revealed, puffing out his cheeks. "That's why I'm out here." Jake rubbed both hands over his face and tried to ease his fatigue. "And that's why I need a sub to work my whip on."
Micah cocked one eyebrow in disbelief. "Well…" He lifted himself from his somewhat slouched position, not knowing what to say.
Jake scowled at him. "A lot of help you are!" Jake tossed back.
Micah shook off his surprise at the revelation. "Actually, I think I can help you with both those issues," he shot back with a wink. "Cha-Cha has become rather fond of the whip and it will do her good to scene with a different Dom. She's at the perfect level for what you're after and it will also give you the opportunity to talk to her about Fluff."
Micah unfolded himself from his leather office chair, stretching as he stood, and Jake followed suit. "Come on, I'll make the introductions."
Chapter 9
Charlotte hung back at the outskirts of the dungeon, not feeling confident enough to do anything but hug the walls and tr
y to go unnoticed.
Micah had brought her up here, but after taking a call, he'd told her that he briefly needed to meet up with an old friend.
He said she was fine to be in the huge playroom without a chaperone now and that the experience would do her good, though, so far, Charlotte wasn't sure she agreed. Now, nerves had her self-consciously tugging at the miniscule mini skirt she had teamed with a cream lace halter top.
Still, her temporary Dom had gone to lengths to point out that she wore his collar, so she wasn't presenting as an available submissive and, according to Micah, that meant the other patrons would treat her with respect.
He had told her, in no uncertain terms, that they all knew they had to go through him if they wanted to play with her, so she had no need to worry that any of them would try to take measures into their own hands. In the unlikely event that any of them overstepped the boundaries, Micah had instructed her to refer them to her Master.
Even though Charlotte knew there was a strict code of conduct amongst those serious in the lifestyle, she still felt out of her depth and hesitant to venture any further into the room. Micah had reminded her to simply address any Dom with the respect he was due if one approached her but, as much as she knew this ensuing step was crucial, she still hoped he would hurry back before she had to deal with anyone by herself.
Unfortunately, blending into the walls didn't seem like it was going to work for her as three of the younger Doms—baby Doms, she had heard Micah refer to them as, though she didn't really understand the term—were making a beeline straight for her.
Trying to make out she wasn't aware of their advance, Charlotte sought to escape their scrutiny, but she'd barely taken two steps in the opposite direction when one of them caught her arm. "Hey, little angel," the ringleader slurred, sending prickles of trepidation and a side order of panic skittering down Charlotte's spine, even as her more logical side wondered how he had managed to get onto the second floor after what was obviously more than the strictly controlled two drink limit.