“Kevin,” he said, and I flinched at the stupid name I’d given him. I’d never fucking remember a fake name, except that it was the name I hated most in the world, and it always made me grumpy. I responded to the name Kevin like some people responded to the word moist. He was my first boyfriend, and I sincerely hoped he had even worse luck than I did.
“That’s me,” I said faintly. “I didn’t realize….” Another man came through a door at the back of the room, the dock outside briefly visible, and then he closed and locked it behind him. I assessed the situation quickly and found myself backing toward the front door. I didn’t even like sharing, not really, but there was no way four guys I didn’t know were running a train on me. I wouldn’t put myself in a position to let it happen. Dima was closing and locking the door I’d entered through. He came to stand near me but wouldn’t meet my eye, or anyone else’s. He trembled where he stood, and it hit me again that he was fucking scared… but sometimes that was part of the sex game…. My gut was telling me to run.
“So this is more of a party situation?” I asked, and smiled around at everyone, but no one smiled back, and that feeling that something weird was happening returned full force. “Not what we discussed, Xander.” I couldn’t help my tone, even though it wasn’t very pleasing, or even the slightest bit subby. Anger twisted through me and had me clenching my hands. I’d wanted to unwind so badly tonight, and now… fucking problems.
“Yes,” said the man who matched the profile photos I’d jacked off to twice. He shrugged lazily. “I am aware, but you also didn’t specify you wouldn’t participate in group activities.” He flashed a smirk.
“Because we didn’t fucking discuss it,” I said, straightening tall.
Xander smiled and came toward me, and the big-muscled man walked over to Dima, who flinched when he wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and dragged him toward the bed. There were two other men moving around in the room, but I lost track of anything else except the man approaching me—maybe his name was Xander, but it probably wasn’t. Unease kept me light on my feet because anyone who would spring this sort of thing on me didn’t give a fuck about what I thought or wanted. He stopped right in front of me.
“Don’t be like that. You’re so fuckable,” he whispered and cupped my cheek. Some of my irritation bled away with the heated look in his eyes. They were very, very blue, and they seemed to will me to trust him. Or maybe my newfound confidence in him was based on the fact that his lips were thick and pouty and made of dreams. “I want to see you in chains, screaming at my feet.”
It wasn’t that I hadn’t heard anything like that spoken out loud before, because I had, delivered with various levels of confidence, but…. There was such a smarmy grin tacked onto his face when he was finished speaking, and he kept glancing at the boy behind him, the one who really fucking looked like he shouldn’t be here. So I shook my head, stepping back.
“I’m… I have to go. Left my oven on with a whiskey sour in it,” I said, and he frowned, looking down at the floor like he was trying to work that out.Good.I spun around and raced toward the door, ready to escape this off scene, but stopped and gaped when I got there. There was a padlock above the knob, one that required a key. I reached out and grabbed it, shook it, and real fear slithered through me. Cold metal brushed the back of my neck, and I let out a shaky breath, seriously wishing I could tell if this was part of the sex play or if it was… something bad and scary happening. Fear curdled in my stomach. I didn’t like this at all, but should I say anything? Shuddering, I tugged on the lock sadly and then let it go.
“Okay, are you fucking with me or what?” I turned around to a gun shoved in my face. Black metal. I had no clue what the make was, but I’d seen this enough times—I rode with the Kings, after all—that I didn’t bother flinching, or flailing, or dropping to the ground in terror like a fucking jackass. Xander seemed to have been expecting more of a reaction, too, because he looked at his gun like it was broken, and I sighed.
“Do you want something, or is this part of what gets you off? I have my credit cards with me, but honestly, I’ll probably just call and report anything that goes out of my accounts as theft in the morning.”
“You would wait that long?” Xander asked stupidly, and now he had a Jersey-boy accent I hadn’t heard when he first spoke, which was bad. I’d shocked him out of his phony role, and that meant he’d been in character this whole time. But there was no reason I shouldn’t know he might be from Jersey, so—
“Fuck me, who are you and what do you want?” I whispered.
Xander, or whatever his real name was—I’d never thought that was it anyway—shoved his gun back in my face.
“I’m not impressed,” I grumped.
The big, muscly silver-fox Dom stomped over to us and I backed up into the door. He slugged me in the stomach, and without thinking I cracked him across the jaw, the impact sending a deep ache into my shoulder. But then Xander punched me in the ribs and I crumpled to the floor, gasping.
“Oh good, it must not be a hit,” I wheezed. “Seriously, you want me because of what? I don’t know anything about the Kings.” I did, but fuck them.
“How do you know we aren’t here to kill you?” Xander, the maybe Jersey boy, asked, some real anger in his tone.
“Fuck, I’d’ve just shot me and gotten it over with if that was what I was getting paid for. You’re wasting time otherwise.”
Xander glanced at Silver Fox and one of their other muscly counterparts, and then over his shoulder at the fourth guy I’d forgotten about. He was in leather pants too. They must have decided that’s how all BDSM creeps like me dressed. Made me slightly embarrassed about the amount of leather at home in my closet.
Xander snorted and kicked me in the stomach. The blow shocked me and flashed pain all the way to the back of my eyeballs. I curled to the floor, holding my gut as I fought to breathe. Hands grasped my arms and I was dragged across the room to the bed and then flung there. I fought a little as my coat and suit jacket were taken, but then my shirt was pulled off me by more hands than I could keep an eye on. All four of the big guys worked me over, slapping and punching. That gun was in my line of sight the whole time. Xander stuck the barrel in my face until I scooted to the center of the bed, and he gestured for me to move until I was pressed against the mound of pillows at the top.
“Dima, cuff him,” Xander ordered, and unbelievably, my dick perked up. My jaw tensed and I bit the tip of my tongue until it hurt. I still wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on—if I was about to get fucked, robbed, or murdered. Adrenaline pounded through my veins, and Dima, the sweetheart that he was, gave me the saddest look as he slipped thick metal cuffs around my wrists. They weren’t padded, and that was a first for me, being able to feel cold metal on my body that way. He whispered to me, his words soothing because his Russianesque inflection reminded me of my family, and then he was removing my belt.
“I’m not down with this at all,” I said, but my dick was pushing out the front of my suit pants, making me a liar, and there was no missing it.
Dima stopped, but Xander yelled, “Do what you’re told,” and Dima went back to work, pulling my pants off. I didn’t kick him the way I might have Xander, and maybe that was why he had someone else do this. Dima looked scared and sad, and I sort of just let him get on with things. I didn’t care that four men were standing around looking at me, not really, it was more the fucking audacity of not clearing it with me before it happened.
When I was naked on the bed, the blond kid came over. He held half an orange in his hand, and the scent of the bright citrus was strong in the air. He was cute, but again, I was put off by how young he looked.
“Uh, I am not okay with this,” I told him as he ran the orange over my chest. No one was talking back to me now, and that was eerie. The gun was still out, and I wasn’t okay with that, either. The fucking orange was freezing, like it had been in the fridge, and I cursed as my nipples peaked hard and fast. “This is really fucking weird, even for me.”
“Strange for us too, yes?” Dima murmured into my ear. The blond only rolled his eyes and elbowed him out of his way. Dima followed along after the blond and clipped a clamp to one of my nipples. I slammed my head back at the burst of pain. Then came the second clamp, and I hissed with it. My dick was so hard it pulsed and ached, and I had to take shallow breaths.
Dima made an unhappy sound and said something. I cracked my eyes open through sheer force of will. Xander, sans gun, came toward me with a syringe in his hand, and I balked for real, straining at the cuffs.
“No, I am not o-fucking-kay with that. No, no, fuck, I hate needles,” I said as I flinched away and closed my eyes. I struggled as hard as I could, and someone sat on my legs—not Dima, but the blond. Silver Fox came over and held my arm straight, and they wrestled with me. I strained. The last man came over, and I didn’t see his face, but saw that he had the gun. I was far more concerned about what the hell they were trying to put in my body. If I was dead, I was dead, but I didn’t know what they had in that little vial.
“Either you hold still, or we’ll snap this fucking needle off in your arm,” Xander growled, and real terror thrilled through my chest. Gasping, I gave one more giant buck of my body, but went nowhere.
