“I’m fine,” I lie.
Garrett laughs. “Sure. Judging by the angry scowl on your face, you’re either not too happy to be back or didn’t have any fun on your trip at all.”
“Nah. The trip was great, and I’m happy to be back.” One truth and one lie. The trip was great and I wish it never ended.
“You didn’t lose Drake in the sex clubs, did you?”
“He’s here. At the bar,” I mumble.
“I bet he had a good time. I was half expecting him to not come back at all.”
I don’t respond. A minute later, the rest of the team start filing in. Emerson and Charlie, her walking in front of him with his hand pressed gently against the small of her back. Maggie typing away at something on her phone like she usually is.
They all greet me, smiling and asking about my trip, and I try to keep my smile as natural as possible. Then, of course, they all inquire about Drake and my fake smile gets harder to hold.
“All right, Hunter. Tell us everything. I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts and ideas.” Emerson leans back in his chair, staring at me thoughtfully as he waits. I do have a lot of thoughts and tons of ideas, but a certain giant blond asshole won’t get out of my brain and let me think.
“Yeah…” I stammer, “I didn’t get a chance to put together a presentation yet. We had to move Drake out of his apartment yesterday, but I can whip something—"
“It’s fine,” Emerson says with a crooked smile. “We don’t need a presentation, Hunter. Just tell us about your trip.”
I let out a heavy sigh. Think, Hunter. Think. But there are no clear thoughts, just images and memories and nothing I could possibly share with them. Like the moment I watched Drake tie up my wife for the first time…during that… “Shibari demonstrations,” I blurt out, suddenly using the memory of them as my muse. “We saw some pretty amazing demos that I’d love to bring here.” I sit upright in my chair. “Once a month, let the members learn how to do it themselves.”
“Perfect. That would go well with our other kink demos. Anything else?”
It was at Fire Palace that the owner reminded me that we might not be doing enough to make things discreet for our members, especially the women. “We should be doing more to protect our members’ privacy, especially the women who don’t feel comfortable just walking around our club. Maybe a masquerade evening once a month.”
A few people at the table perk up in interest. Emerson nods as I move on.
I scan through my memory of the trip…landing on the moment I watched Drake and Isabel kiss for the first time and how I felt after that, stealing her away because I had to have her at that moment. “Quickie rooms,” I say. “We were at a club, and they had these stalls that you didn’t have to rent, but you could use…for a quickie.” A grin starts to tug on the corner of my mouth as I remember that night. I notice Charlie, Emerson’s girlfriend, biting her lip as she blushes and quickly types what I’m saying on her laptop.
“Quickie rooms…I love it,” Emerson replies. “And Drake?”
My head snaps up to stare at him. “No, I was with Isabel,” I say quickly to correct him, my cheeks starting to suddenly burn.
Emerson smiles. “I mean…can Drake build us something like that?”
Fuck me. I can’t believe I just thought he was asking if I fucked Drake in a quickie room. I’m now fighting the urge to bolt from this room like a coward.
“Oh,” I reply, clearing my throat and feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on me. “Yeah, easily.”
“Great,” he says, and I could be imagining it, but I swear he’s watching me with more scrutiny than usual. I squirm in my seat. “Anything else?”
The next one is easy, but I feel a lot less excited and proud of the memory as I say, “Dark rooms.”
“Dark rooms?” Garrett asks.
“Yeah. Pitch black. Completely anonymous. Anyone in there can do anything they want…with anyone they want.” I swear they can all read my mind as I remember that night. It plays on repeat in my mind.
The club owner had offered to let me see the room with the goggles on, and the next thing I knew, I saw Drake standing there with his jeans unzipped and a kid barely old enough to drink touching his chest. All of the years of watching Drake flirt with men, kiss them and go to bed with them, I’d finally snapped.
“Interesting…” Emerson replies.