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I still work at the club, occasionally slipping behind the bar when nostalgia calls, and mostly to wind up Frost, but I’m generally behind the scenes now, working with Wint to make our expansion plans a reality. Who knew a brat from the streets could have such a good eye for business? I’ve never been so busy or worked so hard in my life – even when I was trying to hold down three jobs in the past. That said, I’ve still found plenty of time to play with my men.
Both at the club and at home. Who ever would have thought that Frost would turn out to have a praise kink and love switching roles with me? Or that kind and caring Dash would actually be the harshest taskmaster and giver of punishments? He gives North and Don a run for their money in how evil he can be with my body. And then he flips the tables on me and administers the best aftercare a girl could hope for.
I’m a very lucky, very collared girl, and I wouldn’t change a thing for the world.
“Are you sad?” Elle asks suddenly.
I frown at her bizarre question, trying not to grin as I shake my head. I’m deliriously happy. Sickeningly so, as Elle’s told me many times this year. Why on earth would she suddenly question that now?
“You’re kidding right?” I quip, smirking at her.
She snorts. “I meant, are you sad not to be working at Candy Canes this year?”
My smirk falls and I shrug. “A little, of course. I’m hoping we can still try and find some time to visit nearer to Christmas, the club members have been really understanding, but we all agreed it was more important that we stay and try to make ‘For Me’ a success. They still want Daddy Santa to put in an appearance on Christmas Eve though,” I say with a laugh.
“Don’t they know he’ll be too busy unwrapping his own present to see to theirs?” Elle teases, making me laugh and blush.
We may have discovered that I have as much of an exhibition kink as I do voyeurism. What can I say? I love exploring every facet that the clubs have to offer, both in private and in public. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to settle on a favourite. I love to run, and Wint loves to chase me. I like pain with my pleasure. Humiliation with my praise. I’m blessed to have five guys who understand me and are able to give me everything I need and more. It’s just a bonus that we’re head over heels in love too.
I just hope Elle finds the same.
Not five guys, necessarily, but just the level of happiness I’ve found through the freedom of letting go and accepting who you are. I know that once Elle’s got tonight out of the way, she’ll be on that path to discovery.
“Are you ready?” I ask, watching as she flips her hair once more, smacks her lips together and gives herself an approving nod. She looks stunning. A goddess any guy would be lucky to have.
“I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
“Wint sent a limo for tonight. It’s waiting outside.”
“Of course he did,” she replies with a throaty laugh, looping her arm through mine and grabbing her clutch bag.
“It’s for opening night, not your hoo-haa,” I snap lightly with a smile.
“Although,” she jokes, “if you think about it, it kind ofismy hoo-haa’s opening night too.”
I snort. “Fucking hell. You’re something else, you know that?”
“Absolutely.”
We exit the hotel suite and take the lift down to the ground floor and out to the waiting limo. The chauffeur opens the door and we slide in, the champagne already chilled, poured and waiting.
We clink glasses, and the limo pulls off. We’ve literally only got to go halfway down the street for tonight’s event, and could easily have walked, but Wint wanted us comfortable and arriving in style.
As my nerves kick in, I’m glad he did. My knees are shaking, and I can’t even begin to imagine walking more than fifty paces in these killer heels.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I mutter when the car pulls up outside ‘For Me’. Our signature golden lips logowouldbe the only giveaway of our location if it weren’t for the droves of press and cameras lined up outside on either side of the flashy golden carpet.
“Please. You’ve seen the press this past year, the world is chomping at the bit for this club opening. Look at them.”
I grin because I know she’s right. We were so lucky back in March when we held a St. Patrick’s day themed pop-up event in Dublin and several high profile, Irish bachelors attended, whipping the world into a frenzy. Especially Elle.
“Tell me who’s coming tonight,” she pleads, pulling on her mask. Everyone coming to the club tonight will wear one to enter the premises, with them becoming optional once inside. Elle’s is black with delicate blooms hand painted in deep reds, and it’s gorgeous with her deep wine-coloured gown.
I shoot her an evil grin, one which has come in very handy dealing with Frost this past year, and shake my head.
“You know I’ll never reveal our members’ identities. Discretion is part of our appeal. Hence the masquerade.”
“Boo, bitch. I’m your best friend!”
