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Damn.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea? I mean, when you’re doing a remodel sometimes it’s best to start from scratch so that you’re not trying to force existing elements to fit the new design.”
Ugly existing elements. Ugly, ugly.
“Nah, this thing holds too many memories. It would be a shame to get rid of it.” He patted it like most men would pat their dog. She could only imagine what kind of memories a bar would hold in a place like this. Probably memories of the unsanitary variety.
“You were saying you wanted to downplay the sale of alcohol. This bar is a prominent, heavy piece. Could I interest you in a few other ideas?”
Turning, he narrowed his eyes at her. “I suppose you could tell me your other ideas, but they’d have to be pretty fucking spectacular for me to change my mind.”
His use of profanity in a business meeting shouldn’t have surprised her, and yet it still took her aback.
“I’ll do my best to dazzle you,” she said, managing to curb most of the sarcastic tone her pride was urging her to use.
He smiled at her nastily. “You go ahead and do that, Stride. It’s what I’m paying you for.”
Rather than be worried about losing this contract and wanting to suck up, she kind of wanted to slap him, yet wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t said or done anything horribly shocking, and yet tension hummed between them. It set her teeth on edge.
Okay, so maybe she was a prude compared to these people, but then again weren’t most people prudes compared to these people?
He walked her around the other side of the cavernous room, flipping wall switches as he went. The lighting was dim, the way one would expect it to be at a nightclub, and she wasn’t sure if that was the preferred level of lighting for this type of club. Of all the things she’d ever had to research, she never would have guessed they’d be hired to do a job like this.
Even though she was prepared for it, the sight of the club’s equipment wasn’t something she could have braced herself for. She stared at all of it, trying to work out what each piece of the furniture was used for without having to ask him. Everything was new and clean, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying.
“So as you can see, most of our equipment is in the back quarter of the club. I want things more spread out. Like these saltier crosses.” He tapped a finger against one of the three padded capital Xs that stood one beside the other. “When we got these, we figured it would look impressive to have them together for group activities, but we’ve had more than one incident where people drift over into one another’s space. Nothing will throw you out of a scene faster than getting flicked with somebody else’s flogger or dragon tail.” He chuckled to himself, but sometimes she felt like he was speaking a different language. She definitely wasn’t up on the lingo. “We tried moving them farther apart, but because of the wall there it makes the configuration kind of awkward—two here, one there.”
“Ah.” She nodded, trying to look like she knew what he was talking about. Apparently, she was going to need to do a whole lot of research. Either that or spend more time than she was comfortable with talking to this guy about kinky stuff.
“So more spread out,” she said, scribbling in her notebook but more to break eye contact than because she’d have trouble remembering that detail.
“Yes, the Dominant should be able to move around the submissive without bumping into the Dominant beside him. Really, it’s not hard to move these around, it just didn’t look right with the way we had everything set up last time we moved them.” He perched a hip on a padded bench thing that looked comfortable. Maybe it was for people to sit on while they watched? Although that wouldn’t explain the configuration of padded surfaces.
“What?” he followed her line of sight. “Are you thinking about trying this out?” He patted the leather and took a few paces away, as though to give her access to it. “I don’t think you’ll be able to kneel on it very well in that skirt.”
She stared at him and then took a long look at the device. “I don’t even know what that thing is,” she admitted.
“It’s a spanking bench. A Dominant has their submissive kneel here and lean on this.” He demonstrated, and she focused on getting her breathing to stay quiet. The idea of him positioning her like that was making her uncomfortably warm. “The Dominant can secure a submissive in that position to hold them still for punishment or . . . whatever else the Dominant might have in mind.”
“Oh.”
He paused. “Any questions?”
“Yeah—why would any woman want to subjugate herself to a man?”
He blinked. “I was wondering if you had questions about the redesign, but . . .” He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. “Submissives can be any gender. A Dominant/submissive dynamic doesn’t always have to be sexual.” He looked around like Grant might save him. “How about I give you some websites to check out? I’ve always been shit at explaining things.”
“Sorry, I’ve never met anyone who does this stuff in real life. I don’t get it, and just thought you’d have some insight. It’s not really something I’ve thought about before.”
“You’ve never thought of the power dynamics in a relationship before? In sex? You’ve never played around with restraints or cuffs? With people giving you orders, or vice versa?”
“Why would anyone agree to that?” she asked, grimacing.
“Because it gives them pleasure to dominate or submit. Because they find it fulfilling. I’m not very familiar with the feelings from the submissive’s side of things. I only know what I’ve been told.”
She nodded, planning to let it drop, but then she just couldn’t. “But what kind of self-respecting person wants to be ordered around?”
His pitying look annoyed her. “Different people like different things, Juliet. In our community we do our best not to judge one another for what we’re into.”
