“I thought you said they love Ezra,” I murmur, my eyes on our surroundings.
“They do when he’s not being terrible,” Arlo chuckles.
My steps slow. I can’t help my curiosity, but when Arlo looks over, he only snorts and pulls me onward. “They’re boring,” he assures me, without me asking any questions. “They barely gointothe club at all. They just sit out here and talk about things that may or may not have happened back in the seventies.”
“They’re going to hear you,” I point out, appalled that he doesn’t bother to lower his voice so that he won’t be heard.
Arlo only shrugs one shoulder and stops at another room, this one well lit and hung with posters and flyers on all of the walls, all the way up to the ceiling. A leather sofa and chair sit tucked against one wall, and on the other side of the room are two signs showing where the doors to the bathrooms are.
In front of us is a larger, heavy door made of metal that blends in with the black wall it sits against. A paper sign, crumpled from hands and use, is hung with tape just above where a peephole would be.
No phones out. Keep food in the kitchen. Clothes are optional beyond this point.
Was the sign here before, when I’d come here for the orientation? I scan my brain but can’t remember. Not to mention, my brain is going a mile a minute right now. How can I remember the small things when I want to soak in everything around me? Especially because of how much I want to know what lies on the other side of the heavy door.
“Is your phone on silent?” Arlo flicks a hand to the sign on the door. “It’s to protect everyone’s privacy since you might be taking a video or pictures or something, which isn’t cool without consent, obviously. So to just help everyone, that’s not allowed.”
“Makes sense,” I say in a small voice, nodding along with his words. “And yeah. My phone is on silent. How else will I ignore Cyril asking me to deliver a withered dandelion to the dead opossum on the other side of the city?”
Arlo pauses to look at me, and I meet his gaze with one raised brow. “Did I stutter?” I ask when he continues to justwatchme.
“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “I just don’t get to hear that kind of thing about Cyril much. And I can’t help but wonder how he hasn’t metaphorically ended your existence yet.”
A thrill of fear shoots through me, and I unconsciously grip his hand tighter. “Would he actually–”
“No,” Arlo tells me, shutting me down before I can even properly ask the question. “He wouldn’t. Not only would Isaac and Ezrariot, he likes you. A little. Somewhat. Though when you say stuff like that, I’m pretty sure his earsburnacross the city, and he knows it’s you.”
I consider his words, blinking, and then ask, “Would you riot if he killed me?”
“I’d riotso hardthat you’d feel it in the afterlife.”
The words bring an unexpected smile to my lips. “Then all is right with the world, and I can go out with no unfinished business or regrets.”
When he grimaces and shakes his head, I snort out a quick laugh and loosen my grip on his hand. “I’mjoking, okay?”
“You’re asking for it from him. That’s all I’ll say about it, but you arereallyasking for it. He has great control over his impulses and temper and all of that good shit. But everyone has a limit.” Without letting me reply, he pushes open the door and drags me inside, though I certainly don’t resist. With a few blinks, my eyes adjust to the dimness of the room as Igrin.
It’s nothing like I’d expected it to be. Not by a long shot. This is the room I’d been in before, though now all of the chairs are gone and have been replaced by pieces of bondage furniture, a cage, a throne, and a girl suspended from the ceiling who is slowly spinning in a lazy circle as her partner watches her with satisfaction plain on his face.
“Wow,” I say, my voice probably lost under the loud, bass-heavy music. “This is so much cooler than I thought it would be.” A few couches and chairs are interspersed throughout the room, and some of them are occupied by people watching what’s going on in the middle of the room or entertaining themselves just as thoroughly.
I also can’t help the small swirl of nerves in my stomach, and the butterflies that take off inside me make my pulse flutter in my throat as I look around once more.
I’ve never done most of this, for all I’ve claimed that I’m super into kink. I am. But seeing it online, talking about it, andbeing in a kink club with a guy that I’m intoare very different things.
A girl lets out a long, high-pitched moan, and my eye is drawn to her as a woman stands behind her, teasing her with a whip as a grin curls her dark purple lips upward. Her partner is tied to a St. Andrew’s cross, and as she’s whipped again, she gives a full-body shudder and another long moan that doesn’t seem at all like she’s inpain. Not by a long shot, in my opinion.
“Are you into that?” Arlo moves so he can drag me back against him, his chin on my shoulder. “I could do that to you if you want. Though, I prefer floggers rather than whips.”
“She’s just…really pretty,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “And I’ve never done that before.”
Arlo chuckles softly in my ear, his lips skimming my throat. “Then I’ll be your first. For whatever you want. And we’ll tell Ezra, so he can come and try to be yourotherfirsts.”
“What about Isaac and Ashe?” I can’t help but ask.
“They’re more than welcome to join in, sweetness. Just say the word, and we’ll call them right over. After I’m done with you, obviously.”
Obviously.