The laugh burst out of him, feeling as though it came from the deepest recesses of his belly. There had been so much he’d loved about being in politics. But the feeling of never being able to fully inhale, the necessity of toning down every single emotion he had, that had been hard. Now? There were tears in his eyes, and he’d startled Shannon with his outburst. Fuck, this was funny. Well, it wasn’t, but it would be.
Once he’d wiped his eyes and caught his breath, he realized Shannon was staring at him with a bewildered expression that clearly saidWhat the fuck is wrong with this guy?
Hudson, on the other hand, had pinched his lips into a thin line and was trying not to laugh. They’d all been professionals—as he’d been promised they would be—and Ryker hadn’t blinked an eye when Huxley had given the laconic man his name and handed over his ID when he’d first joined Hive.
There had been a couple murmurs in the club he’d thought had been about him, but as far as he knew, no one had said a damn word because “we don’t talk about kink club” was the first rule of kink club. But Hudson knew who he was. As did most of the people here. Except apparently for Shannon.
“I personally wouldn’t say he’s evil,” he offered, “but he’s been called a lot worse.”
* * *
Tamsyn
Oh no.
Her forthrightness didn’t always win her friends but it did tend to make enemies of the right people. People who thought women and/or submissives should be weak and lacking in opinions. She very rarely regretted shooting off her mouth. And why should she?
Maddie was the one of them who would take her licks like they were her due instead of fighting tooth and nail against them. Not that her bestie didn’t have a spine—Maddie could rival her own stubbornness on occasion—but she almost never made a fuss. Tamsyn on the other hand?
That was her job. Not literally. In fact she was certain her bosses—including one of the founders of the firm, Grant Surry, who had gone to bat to get her this position —would prefer she be less opinionated and more reserved but fuck that, no. Her brains and her attitude came as a package deal and she’d take them both somewhere else if necessary.
She was the one who stood up to people for Maddie and for other people who didn’t want to rock the boat because she didn’t give a damn if she rocked it so hard it capsized. Sometimes she wanted to hustle the vulnerable into lifeboats she’d row herself and leave the rest to burn.
This time though…she had the distinct impression she’d fucked up. She wasn’t sorry exactly, because that was the risk she ran and she accepted that, but she really did try to only be a harpy in the direction of people who deserved it. Judging by the look on Hudson’s face, it seemed as though Elder might not deserve it. Shit on a stick.
Now that Elder had regained his faculties from his guffawing outburst—and why had that softened her heart a beat after anger had lanced up her spine, white hot and burning?—he was looking at her with an indulgent smile, but also like he was now more interested in her instead of less after she’d given him a thorough tongue lashing.
Well, if that was his jam, he’d have to look elsewhere. She could enjoy giving head under the right circumstances but humiliation kink—especially from the topping end—was not her cup of tea. She didn’t dress people down for fun. Only for profit. Kidding. Sort of.
“I think I can explain to your satisfaction but I’d prefer not to do it here,” Elder said, indicating with a circle of an index finger the large room that had maybe a dozen people in it who were desperately trying to not pay attention to this little scene.
She didn’t blame them for not being able to look away; no, she was increasingly certain she’d caused the social equivalent of a car wreck.
“If you’d feel safe doing so,” Elder continued, “and perhaps Hudson would be willing to join us for your comfort, I’d like to go to a private room and provide some information. You can decide if you’d like to continue berating me after that.”
What she wanted to do was crawl behind a St. Andrew’s cross or under a spanking bench and not come out until Elder was gone. But she wasn’t going to do that now was she? No. She was going to brazen this out, act like she’d been in the right until she’d been proven to be in the wrong, and if she was, she would apologize.
“Fine,” she said, giving her head an imperious tilt which must’ve looked absurd given that she was kitted out in her best Catholic schoolgirl outfit. But neither Elder or Hudson laughed, not this time. “But Hudson has to be there.”
“Of course,” the hulking man agreed. “Give me a second, I just need to let my partners know I’m stepping away.”
It couldn’t have been more than a minute that it took Hudson to walk over to a red-haired man who she recognized as Ian, one of the other club owners, and a dark-haired pixie of a woman who looked impossibly adorable in a pristine white bunny outfit, complete with floppy ears on a headband and a puffy cotton ball of a tail that Tamsyn was fairly certain had an anal plug on the other end of it. Ugh, she wished. Maybe someday. But not today because she was pretty sure Elder wasn’t going to want anything to do with her after this. Especially as she stood there awkwardly, her gaze boring a hole into Hudson’s back because it felt like he was taking forever.
She’d flirted with this man, had hoped she’d get to do a lot more with him just a few days ago, and now she couldn’t even look him in the eye, never mind make small talk.
If she ended up with pie on her face because of this, would she be able to show her face here again or would everyone just know her as the girl who’d had an entirely uncalled for shit fit? On the plus side, given that Hive seemed to be a haven for littles, at least she knew she wasn’t the only person within these walls to ever have a tantrum.
Finally Hudson came back and tipped his head toward a door marked Staff Only. “Shall we?”
The mountain of a man ushered them in and then shut the door behind them. Now what?
She could have smiled and played nice but that wasn’t really her thing.
“You have some explaining to do,” she told Elder, arms still crossed in front of her.
He really was handsome. Maybe too handsome with that wavy dark hair that framed his face just so, and those warm light brown eyes. Didn’t hurt that he dressed just how she liked, even in the club. Some of the men here wore leathers, and others had a more casual uniform of jeans and black tee. There were also people dressed for role play—she thought she’d seen a priest last time—and of course there were people men who were just plain old naked. All of that could be nice, but the truth was that the look that made her mouth water was upscale road warrior.
Just like the charcoal slacks that hugged Elder’s hips and backside, that delicious black belt she could imagine sliding through his hands, and goddamn if she didn’t want to rub her face in the so-pale-blue-it-was-almost-white dress shirt. It had nothing to do with the way he had the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, showing off the corded muscles of his forearms and some lovely veins. Nope, nothing at all.