“Jonathan,” Brutus called across the room from the low table where he sat with a few other men. He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room to greet them. “So good of you to join us.”
Prickles of excitement raced over Charlie’s skin as he glanced around, taking in the surreal wonder of the scene he and Jonathan had just stepped into. The echoes of the Ancient World were evident in more than the artwork gracing the walls. The furnishings were odd to the eyes of those living in the modern world, but, Charlie guessed, were probably familiar to anyone who had actually visited Ancient Greece.
There were several low tables surrounded by cushions, where men sat or reclined to eat. Higher tables stood against some of the walls, where food was being prepared to be served. The fireplace that warmed the room had a more modern feel to it, but the small, curved dais in one corner of the room where a quartet of musicians played instruments Charlie had never seen before was far from modern.
What really struck Charlie were the young men who played those instruments and who served the meal. They were all around his same age, all attractive in their own way, and each one of them was dressed in a light toga, just like illustrations and paintings Charlie had seen of the age that the club seemed to be reflecting. More than that, some of them were adorned with gold or silver bracelets, anklets, and necklaces. A few had pierced ears with gems glittering from them. All of them had their faces painted with cosmetics.
“Brutus,” Jonathan greeted their host with a smile as he met them in the center of the room. He was all smiles and charm as he shook the taller, darker man’s hand with as much ease as if he’d spent his whole life in the strange and unfamiliar surroundings. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
“The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure,” Brutus said. “I’m glad you thought to join us so quickly after our business yesterday.”
“I couldn’t turn down an invitation such as this,” Jonathan answered affably. The strain and frustration of his argument with his father was still visible to Charlie in the tight lines around his eyes and the bristling energy behind the smile, but he was already relaxing into his surroundings. “And I felt it my duty to deliver your photographs as swiftly as possible. Charlie?”
He turned to Charlie, holding out his hand for the parcel that Charlie carried.
Charlie jerked forward to hand over the photographs, his reactions delayed just a bit as he tried to take in the wonders all around him. He and Jonathan were instantly the center of the attention of everyone in the room, which was about two dozen people, including the musicians and serving boys. Their curiosity made Charlie feel as naked as he had in front of Jonathan’s camera.
Gloriously so.
“Good to see you again, Charlie,” Brutus said, grinning at Charlie like he knew everything he was thinking and feeling as he absorbed his strange, new surroundings. “Like what you see?”
To anyone else, that might have been a casual question to begin a conversation. Charlie knew the moment he met Brutus’s gaze, which he couldn’t hold for more than a second, that it implied so much more.
He looked down and nodded.
“Good,” Brutus said. “Then you shall both join us. Valentine, come see to Charlie.”
A stunning young man with white-blond hair and an onyx cuff shaped like a glittering snake wrapped around his upper arm set down the tray he’d been preparing by one of the tables and walked over to Charlie. He radiated good will and sweetness, but also sadness. He smiled at Charlie, and Charlie immediately smiled back as if he were an old friend.
Brutus nodded, then shifted to Jonathan’s side, stretching an arm across Jonathan’s shoulders as if they, too, had been friends for ages, steering him on to the longest of the tables.
“Your timing is impeccable,” he said as Jonathan glanced back over his shoulder to make certain Charlie was taken care of. “We’ve just begun our midday meal and entertainment. There’s no better way to have your first taste of the Den, both literally and figuratively.”
“I am already intrigued,” Jonathan said, turning his attention back to Brutus. “Is this a fancy dress party or standard attire for the club?”
“Standard attire, of course,” Brutus laughed. “For the boys, at least.”
Charlie blinked, realizing that the men in the room were all dressed in a more modern style, albeit more relaxed. He swept a quick glance around the room to be sure that observation was correct.
His glance stopped on a man who must have been in his thirties seated at one of the side tables. Or rather, at the younger man seated on his lap who was stripped to the waist. Possibly entirely naked, Charlie couldn’t tell, since they were seated behind the table. The young man wore a bejeweled collar, and if Charlie wasn’t mistaken, there was a fine, golden chain attached to that collar that slithered down the young man’s chest.
The older man beamed at the younger one as he reached for a slice of fruit from the plate in front of him. He fed the juicy bit to the young man, then leaned in to kiss and lick the juice that dripped from his lips.
Charlie caught his breath, blood stirring and cock growing. His guesses about the sort of place Brutus had invited them to were proving right.
“Come,” Valentine said quietly, his voice as sensual as the brief exchange Charlie had just witnessed. “I’ll show you how to serve your master.”
Charlie tensed, his mouth dropping open as he dragged his eyes away from the intimate couple to follow Valentine. “He’s not my master,” he said, barely above a whisper, as Valentine took his hand.
Valentine laughed, the sound melodious. “Are you certain about that?”
Charlie didn’t answer. He glanced back to Jonathan, who had taken off his shoes and was figuring out how to sit comfortably on the cushions at the low table next to Brutus. He and Brutus were still talking, though he did glance up at Charlie just as Valentine swept him out of the main room and into a smaller, side chamber.
As soon as Jonathan was out of sight, Charlie gulped. “I know what sort of a place this is,” he told Valentine, too intimidated to speak in more than a murmur.
Again, Valentine laughed. “I’m sure you don’t,” he said, taking Charlie through the side room into an even smaller one.
That room was filled with cabinets and drawers, very much like the butler’s pantry he’d once seen at Mr. Heaton’s house when he’d been sent on an errand there. Valentine let go of his hand to open one of the cabinets.
