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“What do you think?” Zak asked, tilting his head at the upper circular platforms where Doms and subs were performing for their audiences while enjoying their play sessions.

“This is something else,” Kurt said, fixated on one particular act where the Dom’s slave was leashed and then handed off to another Dom as he joined them on their elevated platform.

“Yeah, this place is some

thing else all right,” Zak said, smiling when a club patron scooted by him, making a point to rub her full rack against him so he’d take notice of her fetish outfit, a hot little leather number with an open bodice in the front and back.

“Can you believe people come out in public like this?” Kurt asked, his voice way too loud since he’d chosen to speak when the DJ killed the current music selection.

Zak studied another little pixie with a cute haircut, curvy body and smokin’ hot ass. “Now you know why I’m still single.”

“Not me,” Kurt said, scanning the crowd. “My heart already belongs to one woman. I’m sunk, man.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zak said, slapping him on the back. “And I’m worried about you, too. You and Liam.”

“Liam?”

“You haven’t noticed? Dude would lay down and die for Coco without anyone asking. Bad, man. He has it real bad.” Zak threw his arm across Kurt’s chest and pointed at the far wall, spotting Liam. “Speak of the devil.”

Liam was standing on the other side of the bar. By his stance and the lust-ridden look on his face, he was almost unrecognizable. Zak followed his brother’s eyes, finding the source of his unusual expression. “Bingo.” He nodded to the glass encased dance floor. “And there, my friend, is the source of your demise and the reason Liam beat us here.”

As if entranced, Kurt gravitated to the dance floor. Around the enclosure, there were stadium seats and he wasted no time in finding one. Liam immediately spotted Kurt and joined him.

Zak stood back and folded his arms, ready to watch, assuming another brother would soon emerge. Brandon might have believed he could love Coco and let her go, but Zak knew better. He needed her. In his own way, Brandon loved her.

“Hiya, handsome. Can I get you a drink?” A bubbly cocktail waitress awaited his reply and he couldn’t be sure he supplied one. Because at that moment, at that precise second, a woman Zak had never seen flew through the air in a suspension bondage stunt that not only left him breathless, but left him desperate to find out her name. One way or another, he had a feeling that woman’s name would soon be on his lips.

If they were both lucky, it would happen tonight.

Chapter Seven

Air’s “Talisman” resounded and most of the subs dancing on display exited the enclosure. Coco and another submissive remained on the floor. Coco realized most eyes were on Drina by then. With her sleek catlike leather outfit clinging to her every curve, she was suspended to the floor, arched her back, flipped over and worked her body around the ropes. By then she surely must’ve been every available Dom’s dream.

Her dark brown hair tumbled in layers in front of her face as she was slowly lowered to the floor at the end of the song. “Talisman” faded out and Cowboy Junkies’ “Misguided Angel” filled the speakers. Obviously aware of the eyes trained on her, Drina took full advantage of the moment and worked her body into an undulating movement, sultry and catlike as she approached the rectangular wall.

Coco had always loved dancing in the designated “sub space” which gave new meaning to the term. The viewing audience could see everything inside the illuminated room, but those inside couldn’t see the spectators thanks in part to the special glass housing the small entertainment room.

Lost in the lyrics of “Misguided Angel,” Coco thought of Brandon and her heart shattered. It took all the will she had to keep from crying. She wondered if the lyricist perhaps had a man like Brandon in mind when he or she wrote the song.

She threw her head back and let the music have her, dancing away the night and the pain as her fingers splayed across a neck now bare, a neck no longer sporting a dominant man’s collar, his unique brand. She swallowed back the outright cries, aware of Drina nearby, dancing as if she were weightless, as beautiful as a ballerina as she flowed one way or another, practically cradling herself as the song released an embracing power.

Coco and Drina remained in their space, never pausing, never slowing down unless the music required it. The beats ranged in tempo. They spent the last of their time in the sub space dancing to Rihanna’s “Diamonds” and finally Coco’s new favorite, “Unfaithful.”

The lyrics to “Unfaithful” washed over her like a thunderous rain, pounding at her heart and soul, beating down on her with truth and accusation, mesmerizing honesty.

She had been unfaithful.

Perhaps she had known she would be from the moment she and Brandon were first together. She’d always felt a special connection to Kurt. She recognized a similar bond with Liam, but Liam was Kurt’s exact opposite. He was kind and soft, handsome but seemingly unaware of the fact. Kurt knew he was hot and worked that sexy swagger like any woman watching him was real fortunate to view the whole package.

But Kurt hadn’t acted cocky with her. He’d been gentle. She closed her eyes and remembered, allowed that lust to take hold again as she grabbed on to her last few minutes in sub space, realizing their time would soon end with the private show schedule, but longing for just another few minutes to reevaluate her day.

Drina’s gaze met her own and she smiled that little knowing smile. On the way to the club earlier that night, she’d shared with Drina her innermost feelings. She’d explained her heartache, her grief, and ultimately the longing that had placed her in Kurt’s arms, the arms that had wrapped around her in a loving hold, a comforting embrace.

She had needed him. She still needed him. And she wanted him even more than she had before. Trying to figure out why her feelings were all over the charts, Coco paid attention to the crowd beyond the electric door. Those in the audience were on their feet, giving their last dance a standing ovation. The DJ’s voice resonated throughout the club, “Give it up for the dancers tonight in sub space!”

It was a thunderous applause, one that left goose bumps up and down her arms. As they often would, bouncers escorted the subs out the back and down the hall to the ladies’ room. The normal practice allowed the club employees time to regain control of the crowd, redirect their attention to another show and by the time the subs emerged again, they were just part of the audience instead of a local superstar, which was how some of the subs were treated if they’d cranked up the right Doms and garnered more attention than the others.

“Oh my God!” Drina twirled around the dressing area of the restroom. “I feel exhilarated!”

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