9
“Am I ready for this? I’ve been in combat on four continents, I’ve disarmed everything from land mines to a live nuke… but am Ireallyready for this?”
Hunter’s reflection in the mirror didn’t reply, which was probably for the best, all things considered. But the question remained, and Hunter suspected he wouldn’t have an answer until it was too late to back down. Walking into a nest of snipers was one thing, but who would have known Hunter would be intimidated at the thought of going to a BDSM club?
Hunter didn’t think the idea seemed so bad when Payne had first suggested it. Two days after their scene, Payne thought Hunter needed a bit longer to heal before they went any further in his therapy. Since Payne had offered to answer any questions Hunter had about his lifestyle, Hunter had taken him up on it, finding himself curious about the kinds of people who participated and what needs had drawn them to it. He was also surprised at the wide range of kinks the lifestyle encompassed, and when Hunter had said he wasn’t sure he trusted much of anything he read about it on the internet, Payne had suggested they visit a local club so Hunter could see for himself.
That was why Hunter was now standing in front of his mirror, wondering if he was going to be completely out of his depth. When he’d asked Payne what to wear to the club, Payne had given him a wicked grin and suggested something tight that would show off his muscles. Then Payne had gone off to get himself ready, while Hunter went through his clothes, wondering what he had that would be appropriate. He had a leather jacket, but otherwise most of his wardrobe consisted of jeans or uniforms. He finally settled on combat fatigue pants in black, white, and gray digital camo tucked into his combat boots, and a sheer black mesh tank top that was part of his hot weather gear for the Middle East. The tank was not only form fitting, but it also revealed far more than it covered, leaving all the tattoos on his upper body visible. He wouldn’t have worn the shirt to a regular club, but if it was too over-the-top for where Payne was taking him, he could always keep his jacket zipped up. Hunter had never backed down from a challenge in his life, and he sure wasn’t about to start now.
Taking a deep breath, he left his room and went downstairs to wait for Payne in the foyer. A few minutes later, Payne appeared at the top of the stairs, and the choirboy was gone, replaced by a leather clad Dom. Payne wore black leather pants that clung like a second skin to his hard thighs, and his sleeveless black leather vest revealed the strong arms that had once locked Hunter in a sleeper hold. His black boots added an inch or so to his height, and eyeliner made his blue eyes appear even more vivid and intense.
When he reached the bottom of the steps, Payne gave Hunter an appreciative onceover. “Good choice,” he said, giving Hunter a thumbs up. “The mesh tank is hot.”
“Thanks.” Hunter couldn’t take his eyes off Payne. He’d always thought the whole leather thing was over the top, but on Payne, the look worked. For the first time Payne looked as dangerous as Hunter knew he could be, and it was sexy as hell. He motioned with one hand, encompassing Payne’s entire outfit. “You look amazing. Like some kind of leather ninja.”
A slow, sensual smile curved Payne’s mouth. “Thanks,” he said. “If you think the front looks good, wait until you get a look at the back.”
Hunter raised one eyebrow, then twirled his finger. “Let’s see.”
Payne turned around and cocked one hip, and Hunter stared at the absolutely gorgeous ass revealed by the tight leather.
“Whoa…” Hunter swallowed against the surge of pure lust he felt looking at Payne’s perfect rear. “If I didn’t know you can take care of yourself, I’d feel like I need to protect you from being dragged off and molested.”
Payne gave Hunter a coy look over his shoulder, then ruined the effect by laughing. “I’m glad you like the view.”
Hunter drew in a deep breath, wondering if he was going to need a cold shower before they even walked out the door. “I have to ask if you’re a diehard top. Because with an ass like that…”
Payne faced Hunter, and a sensual smile curved his lips as he trailed his fingertips down the length of Hunter’s arm. “I am primarily, but not exclusively a top, just like I’m primarily, but not exclusively a Dom. I believe in flexibility — in more ways than one.”
“Good to know,” Hunter said. His mouth was dry, and the slide of Payne’s fingers on his arm raised goosebumps. It had been a long time since he’d had sex with anyone, and he hadn’t had any interest in it in months. But his libido seemed to have come roaring back to life at the sight of Payne’s perfect ass. “I think I need a drink.”
“Maybe after we get home,” Payne said, clasping Hunter’s hand. “Club Twist doesn’t serve alcohol or allow it on the premises. There are a few other rules, but we can go over them and any questions you have on the way. Ready to go?”
“As ready as I’m going to be, I suppose. Let’s go before I come to my senses.”
Within minutes, they were in Payne’s SUV and headed for Club Twist.
“What are the rules?” Hunter asked. “I feel like I’m going into combat and need a situation report.”
“No alcohol or drug use allowed on the premises, for obvious reasons,” Payne said. “Consent issues aside, you don’t want someone in an altered state of consciousness wielding a cane or having one used on them. It’s grounds for a ban from the club. Tonight, you’ll be my guest, but if you want to go back, you’ll need a membership. No phones or cameras are allowed beyond the locker area. You’ll probably see people in various states of undress, but sex and masturbation aren’t allowed in the public areas.” He paused and glanced at Hunter. “Any questions so far?”
“So if there’s no alcohol, no phones and cameras… what do people do? Just hang out and talk? Hook up? Discuss sports scores?” Hunter wanted to have some idea what he was getting himself into.
Payne laughed. “Actually, yes. I’ve had some rather mundane conversations with my fellow Doms while our subs sat at our feet. There’s a stage for demonstrations and shows, and there are private rooms available, but mostly it’s a place where someone like me can be with like-minded people without fear of being outed or ridiculed or called a pervert. We can relax and be ourselves, and sometimes, it means sitting around with our water or orange juice and rehashing last night’s football game while decked out in fetish gear.”
Hunter mulled over what Payne had said, not sure how he felt about some parts. “Um… am I going to have to sit at your feet?”
“Not if you don’t want to,” Payne said. “In fact, you don’t have to identify as a sub at all if you’d rather not. You can be a guest who’s interested in learning more about BDSM but who isn’t ready to participate. No one will force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Our motto is ‘safe, sane, and consensual,’ which means you’ll always have agency. If someone approaches you tonight, you can say no, and they’ll leave you alone. Pressuring someone is against the rules. You get a warning first. After that, a temporary ban. After that, a permanent ban. Consent is a big fucking deal.”
“Good.” Hunter was glad to know there were rules as far as consent. He’d been to more than one bar where guys had gotten handsy and hadn’t wanted to take no for an answer. Not that Hunter, at his size, had to fend off many advances, but he’d seen plenty of men who were no bigger than Payne get groped and handed around like they were pieces of meat. “Sounds more civilized than some of the places I’ve been to in the past. The last time I went to a club, it was in Thailand. I was with D-Day, and we rescued this kid who couldn’t have been more than sixteen from an Afrikaner squad who seemed to think one boy for six mercs sounded like an equitable arrangement.”
Payne tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, and his features grew hard. “I’m glad you rescued him.”
“Yeah, no one fucks with a kid with D-Day or me around.” Hunter frowned. “Are you okay? Oh…” Realization dawned, and Hunter felt something inside himself twist in sympathy. “Shit. I’m sorry. You’ve had to fight off scumbags more than once, haven’t you?”
“More than once, yeah,” Payne said dryly. He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, and some of the tension left his body. “It was bad enough that when I mustered out, I grew a thick beard and let my hair grow down to here.” He tapped just below his shoulder with the side of his hand. “I thought it would make me look older, but instead, people started calling me Jesus, so I shaved and got a haircut.”
Hunter grimaced in sympathy. “I’m sorry you had to go through so much shit. The worst things I’ve ever had to deal with are people thinking that because I’m so big, I must be a total idiot, or because I’m a merc I’m a sociopath waiting to gun down a shopping center full of civilians for the hell of it. Though I’ve been groped more than once — but usually by women, if you can believe it.”
