Page 64 of Whirlwind

Chapter 2

Dakota

Dakota stretched their arms overhead, enjoying the tinkling sound of their earrings and the stretch of their suit jacket over their shoulders. It was so fucking good being back in the States. Not just because they could speak without having to translate everything in their head first. It was like they could breathe again.

They were one of the lucky ones who had been born intersex and not surgically and hormonally adjusted since birth to fit someone else’s ideals.

For their first night in the city that was going to be home for the next five years, they’d discovered a bar that would supposedly support them and dressed to the nines. Their body was a masterpiece of interspersed masculine and feminine clothing, and they were rocking it.

The bar, too, had lived up to its reputation so far. It was early in the evening, so Whirlwind was almost empty. One corner held a dyke family with two kids watching a baseball game and eating chicken strips and fries. Near the door two graying gentlemen were chatting about the good old days. They didn’t think the men were a couple. They’d nodded politely when Dakota came in.

Charlie, the owner and bartender, was an authentic bull dagger in army pants and a men’s flannel shirt. She’d chatted with Dakota while they sipped their beer, advising them on the best thrift stores and night spots, interspersed with stories about the bricks that had been thrown through the window when the place first opened. She was awesome.

Dakota felt like they were feeding on the queer energy of the place like they were starving.

Charlie hadn’t blinked when they’d asked about BDSM clubs. She said she didn’t go herself, but had plenty of gossip on the two establishments. One was flashy and full of pretty boys. The other one, which happened to be around the corner, was for folks who’d gotten over themselves. Not that she was judging, of course.

Dakota would have loved to lose themselves in a scene tonight, but they weren’t looking for flashy and it sounded like the other one had an application process—as it should.

Maybe they could order a burger here, see if they could get a good bet going on a game of darts, and then go out dancing later. There had to be someone, somewhere who could give them a hard pounding.

They’d joked about taking it on as a challenge for the evening, but they’d already planned not to come back to their new apartment tonight unless they had somebody with them.

The door squeaked behind them and they looked up to the mirror behind the bar.

Yum. The guy who came in was smoking hot. Tall, mahogany-skinned, with a close-shaved head and a power suit tailored to hug his solid muscles. He walked with that air of command that always made Dakota weak in their knees.

He strode purposefully to a table without looking around, then pulled out his phone to text. A moment later the door opened again, and his head perked up. He nodded briefly to the older man who came in and settled down with the guys reminiscing at the front, then went back to his text.

It figured that someone so sexy and commanding would be waiting for someone. Dakota turned back to Charlie to continue their conversation.

Charlie raised one eyebrow about their wandering eyes, but didn’t say a word.

When the door opened again, naturally they looked up. The new guy launched into the room and made a beeline for the man Dakota had been watching earlier. His steps were full of energy, like he was ready to run a marathon.

Charlie said something about getting another keg from the basement and Dakota nodded absently. They were too curious about the couple they were spying on.

The new guy flung his jacket casually over a chair, so that one sleeve dragged on the floor. It should have looked sloppy, but it came off as more too cool for school.

His hair was rumpled in a sexy way that probably actually did take him three seconds, even if it would take others hours to achieve. It said that he couldn’t be fucked to comb it and he knew how hot that was.

Dakota swept their eyes down the man through the mirror. His skin was pale, but freckled from the sun. They’d bet it was even lighter a bit lower down. He was short but muscular, like a coiled spring.

His eyes were a sparkling green and his goatee was cute. Hot, but probably too twinky to be interested in what Dakota was looking for. Not that they were looking.

Then, he sat down, his elbows on the table, and leveled the other man with a challenging stare. His body was all business now, commanding in tone and presence.

Holy fuck.

The two men stared each other down, eyes challenging and voices at a low growl. It wasn’t anger, though. Dakota could almost see the sparks flying between them. And wouldn’t they just love to catch fire in the middle.

Finally, the taller man yielded and stood up. Dakota hadn’t been expecting that at all.

The shorter one grinned cockily and leaned back on one leg of his chair. The taller one tensed for a second, but didn’t speak. It looked like the move was designed to piss him off.

Dakota had certainly played games like that before, angling for a good spanking, but this wasn’t quite that. The one he’d dismissed as a twink was fully in command, surveying his dominion from his risky perch. He probably played all sorts of extreme sports and lived on adrenaline. It looked like he liked to win.

The taller one in the exquisitely tailored suit stalked over to the bar, stopping a foot or so from Dakota.