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“Yeah, but I work the cash register at the store sometimes. So I’m obviously good enough with numbers to do that.”
Joe rolls his eyes again as we proceed down the hall, still talking.
“It doesn’t take a genius to run the register at the store because cash registers are high tech now. You don’t need to have a brain because the fucking machine does everything for you.”
Sam merely shrugs, unbothered.
“Still. I do it, so I must at least know how to count to ten.”
Joe merely grunts, this time moving past a couple more doors.
“No need to look in because they’re the bedrooms of the rest of those assholes,” he grunts. “But yeah, we also have a special guest bedroom.” This time, he flings open a door on the right, and I gasp because this is clearly a woman’s space. It’s large and airy, with white-painted walls, a floral bedspread on an enormous California king-size bed, and fluttery pink curtains at the window. There’s an elegantly carved armoire in one corner, as well as an attached bathroom that seems to be decorated in white marble.
“Goodness, I didn’t know you had female visitors,” I murmur. “Much less ones that stay overnight.”
Joe shoots me a searching look.
“How much do you know about the club’s initiation process?” he asks in a slow tone.
“Not a lot,” I admit. “Why, will I be using this room during the initiation?”
Sam hesitates, about to speak, but Joe cuts him off.
“Yeah, definitely,” he says in a smooth voice. “That’s why we did it up all feminine. We want our women to be comfortable.”
Then, he shuts the door and we’re back in the darkened hallway. Hmm, there’s something going on, but I decide not to push it because I just got here and don’t want to rock the boat. There will be time enough for discovery later.
Sam perks then before opening another door which leads to a set of stairs.
“We’ll just go through this place real quick,” he says by way of explanation. “And then the tour will be done.”
I follow him down the narrow stairs, Joe at my back, and soon, I’m in a basement rec room. At least that’s what it looks like at first. There are pennants on the walls, dilapidated sofas, as well a dartboard, a flat-screen TV, and a small mini-bar off to the side. But in the low light, I also see contraptions that make me gasp. There’s a full-size St. Andrew’s cross set against one wall, as well as a padded bench, a breeding stand, and a set of stocks.
“Goodness,” I gasp, my eyes going wide as my chest tightens. “Do you use this stuff? Silly question, I know.”
Joe caresses the smooth wood of the stocks with one big hand, his eyes gleaming in the low lights.
“Sometimes,” he says in a low tone. “Especially the whips and the padded bench if the woman deserves it. You know BDSM can be used for reward as well as punishment, right?” he asks.
As my eyes turn to a collection of whips bolted to the wall, Sam nods.
“Oh hell yeah, sometimes our sluts are begging for it,” the blonde man adds with a smirk, taking in the furniture with satisfaction. “They practically lash themselves to the bench, wiggling their asses at you in order to get a solid spanking. Or whipping. Or fucking,” he adds in a thoughtful tone. “They’ll take anything, they’re so hungry for it.”
I swallow thickly as my pupils dilate because while I’m polyamorous, I’ve never seriously been into the BDSM scene. I’ve dabbled on occasion, but it’s never been more than a couple heavy spanks to my behind or some playful titty-slapping. But this set-up means that the Cannon Biker Club will be pushing my boundaries, and the air grows tight in my chest.
“Nervous?” Sam growls throatily, his blue eyes gleaming in the light. “Or does it turn you on?”
I swallow again.
“Well, both,” I admit in a small voice. “I’m not experienced when it comes to this stuff, but I might like it. I think.”
Joe takes my elbow, gently leading me upstairs again.
“Every woman can learn to like it,” he says in a low hum. “It just takes the right partner, or partners, in your case.”
With that, we step back onto the main level and reenter the clubhouse room again.
“How did it go?” John growls, his blue eyes taking in my pink cheeks and elevated breathing. “Hopefully these assholes behaved like gentlemen.”
