With a curt nod in his direction, I step into the darkness. The first thing I notice is the windows. Large, floor-to-ceiling glass that opens into what appears to be separate rooms on either side.
A smile curls one half of my mouth as I realize there is a couple watching another couple fucking behind the glass. It’s erotic and intimate and strangely…wonderful. Each room is filled, people hovering around to watch, but not in a gross way. In an appreciative way.
I don’t linger too long near any window. I just pass by the voyeurs as I make my way down the dark space. Once I reach the end, I can’t fight the grin on my face. This is the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. But it’s not for me. Not right now. I’d rather come back with Maggie, where we can enjoy it together.
I hope we have something like this at our club.
When that thought makes its way through my head, I pause. Our club. How long have I been seeing it that way? What would she think about that? Instinct tells me she’d love it. The idea of running our own club, having it be our thing gives me more excitement than anything has in a very long time.
My whole life I’ve been searching for purpose, and nothing ever felt as good as this idea does. I almost want to go wake her up right now to tell her. But I’m not done exploring yet.
After coming out of the hallway, I meander my way through every corner of the club, seeing as much as I’m allowed. Counting rooms and checking out the store again.
My dad did this. Not alone, of course, but he built this place, and I spent so long hating him for it when I should have been proud of him. I am proud of him. Now I almost want people to figure out who I am. Know that I’m Emerson Grant’s son.
When I finally make my way back to the bar, I must be wearing my emotions all over my face because the large man seated at the corner laughs when I sit down three seats away from him.
“First time?” he asks.
When I glance up, I stutter out my answer. “Um…not really. But sort of.”
He laughs. “Okay, then.”
After a moment, I recognize him as the bouncer who stopped me from handing that protester’s ass to him on the second masquerade night I attended. I guess I owe him for that. If I had ended up in jail, I wouldn’t have experienced the mind-bending power of the riding crop.
“So…what do you think?” he asks, taking a sip of his clear drink. Just then a bartender walks up to take my order and I politely ask for a Jack and Coke.
Turning toward the bouncer, I answer him, “I think it’s great.” Then for some reason, I feel the need to spill my secrets to a complete stranger. “I used to not think it was so great. In fact, I used to think it was terrible. But that was before I ever actually came here.”
He looks almost offended before I clarify, “I was an idiot. I only saw what I wanted to see and that was enough to feed all of my anger. But then I met someone. And she opened my eyes, so I see things very differently now.”
The bartender places my drink on the table and I slip him some cash to avoid having to hand over my credit card with my name on it. The bouncer nods at me before finishing his own drink and asking for another.
“You know…so did I, once,” he says, and that surprises me. “But people change. Minds change. Courses change. Don’t beat yourself up.”
I smile as I sip my drink. “I’m not. Not anymore.”
Suddenly, a hand latches onto my arm and spins me until I’m facing a shocked and angry-looking Maggie. “What are you doing?” she mutters quietly.
“Having a drink,” I reply, looking back at the man at the end of the bar. He smiles up at us before taking another sip.
“Hey, Maggie,” he says before looking forward.