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To her uneducated eyes, the house looked pretty good in all its sprawling glory, aside from the obvious disrepair. With some love and inspiration, it would be an impressive statement, one to take pride in.
Realizing both men were watching her intently, she diverted her thoughts away from what Evander could do with the buildings to what they’d been talking about. A play area for Littles like her, a photography studio…
“So any random person would be able to take photos of people?”
“Absolutely not. While I’m looking at different tiers of membership to cover everyone from millionaires to ordinary, hardworking people, security for all is a priority. Members’ privacy and safety will be of paramount importance.” He squeezed her hand. “I have a friend in San Francisco keen to relocate. Professional photographer with a flair for the erotic. I think he’d fit in well here.”
“Levi?” Elias asked.
Callie’s lips twitched. It hadn’t escaped her notice how the other Dom had let a few ‘sirs’ slide since they arrived. Had she done that?
“Yeah. He found Gail trussed up on their bed, being pegged by an eighteen-year-old college girl. Six years of marriage down the drain, and she won’t stop hounding him to take her back.”
“Christ. I’m surprised he didn’t just join in.”
Evander lifted her hand to his lips. “He thought he’d found the love of his life. Marriage settled him down, his career kept him busy. I guess betrayal overrode any urge to become part of Gail’s fun and games.”
“What’s pegging?” Callie mused allowed. “Is that the clothes pins thing?”
“Might want to explain that, sweetness.”
“You know, the…” She trailed off, using her free hand to trace a zig-zag pattern down her front. “With clothes pins.”
“A zipline? No, little one, pegging is an entirely different ballgame.” Elias’s tone was low and amused. If it was tangible, she’d bet it tasted like chocolate. Even better, when he called herlittle one, it felt as though a shot of whisky hit her stomach and detonated warmth to the roots of her hair. “It’s usually when a woman fucks a man in the ass with a strap-on dildo, but there are differing opinions as to whether that can apply to a woman-on-woman scenario.”
A jumble of images filled her head. “I—ah—oh…”
“If she blushes any harder, they’ll be able to see her from the space station,” Evander commented dryly, leading her forward when her feet forgot how to move. “For the record, babygirl, when a man fucks a woman in the ass, it’s just anal sex.”
Recalling what he’d done toherass the night before, Callie squeezed her eyes shut against the insane flare of heat igniting her cheeks. This wasn’t a space-station blush; no, sir, she’d surpassed that level and gone straight for universal.
Aliens on distant, undiscovered planets were picking up her embarrassment from millions of light years away.
“I believe we’ve rendered her mute, Sir.”
“Oh, cut the sir shit, Eli. I mean it. That smartass mouth was on her cunt last night; I think we can dispose of the goddamn formalities.”
If there was an appropriate time for an alien abduction, she was sure this was it.
Blurting out the first non-anal thing she could think of, she almost shouted, “Buildings!”
“All right, Callie, we’ll stop teasing you now.” Evander used their joined hands to gesture to the large, thick half-circle of firs on the far side of the house. “Behind those trees are a half-dozen log cabins. Most want pulling down and rebuilding, but a couple should be salvageable.”
“They’re in that bad a shape?”
“Yeah. The crews should be able to demolish and clear them in a day, maybe two. The craftmanship is questionable. I’ve drawn up tentative plans for the rebuild, plus construction for another six. Twelve in all should be sufficient.”
“For playing?” Callie asked.
“Accommodation. My hope is to lease them out to members for weekend stays, vacations, whatever. There may be an opportunity for an annual lease if someone wants a permanent vacation base.”
“So, it won’t just be a club?”
“Eventually, I’d like to expand it into more than just a club. BDSM resorts are becoming increasingly popular, especially in scenic locations. The club I share ownership of in Pheonix has limited open hours, being closed on Sundays and Mondays. Here, I want it to be an immersive experience. Open all hours. Can’t sleep at three a.m. and want to flog someone? Door’s open.”
“Staffing,” Elias murmured.
“I know. Security, housekeeping, dungeon monitors, bartenders…it’ll be a long list, but we’ll keep a lot of people in an honest job. Full-time, part-time. Eight or twelve hour shifts.” The earnestness in his voice told her he was excited to be able to provide jobs to the local community. “Those logistics are for another time, when—if—we complete the project.”
