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I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week: the club’s weekly masquerade night. It’s the only opportunity for us to go in there together, without being noticed. Maggie’s more nervous than last time because there’s a chance my dad and the other owners will actually be there tonight.
But our plan is to go in there disguised and head straight to a room where we can be alone. We just have to enter separately and do our best not to draw any attention.
I can’t explain why I need this; I truly have no clue. I just know I want to feel the worst that Maggie can give me because the thought of her hurting me sends blood coursing straight to my cock. I’ve never found pain to be a turn-on before, but like everything else, her power over me pushes all the right buttons.
“Come on. Let’s go,” she replies. “We’re gonna be late.”
On the entire drive over, I can’t stop smiling. After that stupid night when I lost my shit, things have been different between us. The comfort I feel from every moment I kneel for her is addicting, and as much as I know things between us will have to end, I still feel changed. Maggie just calms me. She makes it easier to be me.
So I’m going to soak up every moment I can.
After parking at the lot across the street, I slip on my mask and walk alone toward the club. She’s meeting me inside, so we aren’t seen entering together.
When I hear what sounds like a crowd standing outside, I pause. Getting closer, I let out a groan when I realize there is a small mob of protesters, harassing people trying to enter Salacious. They’re carrying large signs with Bible verses painted across them, spouting hate at each person rushing past them.
There are two security guards helping people cross the street and putting themselves between the members and the protesters.
“Aren’t you going to get rid of these assholes?” I ask one of the guards. He looks frustrated as he opens a door to usher members through.
“We can’t touch them. They’ll sue the pants off this place.”
When one of the jerks holding a sign gets in my face, I clench my fists, ready to throw him across the street, but before I can move, a strong hand yanks me back by the shoulder.
“Don’t even think about it,” the security guard bellows before shoving me toward the door and away from the protester with a death wish.
As I enter Salacious, I’m still fuming. It pisses me off that my dad puts up with this shit. If he really cared about his club and its members, he wouldn’t make them have to go through shit like that.
“What’s wrong?”
I don’t even see Maggie approach, but as she takes my arm and steers us off to the right and away from the crowd—she can clearly tell something is up. We pause in front of the small shop, where it’s quieter and less crowded, so we can talk.
“There’s a fucking parade of protestors outside that everyone has to walk past to get in.”
I can just make out her eyes as she rolls them. “Assholes,” she mutters.
“Why can’t you guys do something about them? Have that beefy bouncer pound their asses into the cement.”
“Because then they’d sue. That’s all they really want anyway. To trigger us enough to act on our anger, so they can take us to court and get every dime this place is worth. We’re doing the best we can to avoid them for now.”
My teeth clench. It’s not enough. “Well, I don’t work for the club. There’s no reason I can’t give those fuckers exactly what they deserve.”
She snatches my collar and pulls me closer. “You promised, remember?”
My shoulders slide away from my ears, remembering that day, a few weeks ago, when I gave her my word that I wouldn’t engage with those jerks. “I remember. I won’t.”
“You better not, Beau. I’m serious.”
A smile lifts one side of my mouth. “You’re so cute when you’re bossy.”
Her hand drifts down from my collar to my junk, cupping my dick and balls in one firm grip. “Don’t test me, brat.”
I walk her backward until we’re pressed against the glass counter of the store. “I fucking love testing you.”
“I’m going to make this hurt so much,” she replies in a dark, sexy tone.
“Promises, promises.”
“Can I help you find anything?” An unfamiliar voice pulls us apart as I snap my attention to the woman behind the counter. She must be the shop attendant and she’s staring right at me. Even though I don’t know her, so she probably doesn’t know me, it still feels like too much exposure. Quickly, I look down at the items in the display case.
