Trent led the way to a lounge reserved strictly for Dominants and their submissives. It was currently empty, but he figured that wouldn’t be the case for long. It wouldn’t matter that it was Monday; the club’s members didn’t live by strict routines. They came to play when they felt the urge, regardless of the day of the week.
“Are Clarissa and Troy here?” Logan inquired as he got comfortable in one of the oversized leather armchairs.
“Not tonight. Clarissa is working late, and Troy’s at home. They do have a life of their own without me.”
Sure they did. He knew Trent’s version of having a life had a different definition than most people. The first time Logan had visited Trent’s Dallas club, he’d been shocked by what he’d learned. Having been a member of a fetish club for most of his adult life, he hadn’t been prepared for the strict rules and regulations. It wasn’t just the privacy of members that Trent was protecting. He was also offering a safe place for submissives to interact with Doms and satisfy whatever kink they were into. Most important was keeping the submissives on a tight leash. Pun intended.
Trent waved someone over, then requested another drink for Logan as well as a Glenlivet for himself. The submissive scurried off to do his bidding.
“How’s Sam and Elijah?” Trent inquired when they were alone again.
The pleasantries ensued for a few minutes, just two old friends catching up. It wasn’t until Trent leaned forward, his piercing blue eyes locking on Logan’s face, that he knew he was not going to get away with any bullshit tonight.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
“I want to see how it works,” he told him.
Trent’s dark eyebrow rose slowly, forming a perfect arch on an otherwise perfect face. “Since I know you don’t live by a strict lifestyle, I can only assume you’re referring to something else.”
No, he wasn’t referring to Domination and submission. While he enjoyed varied aspects of play, his interests were not as defined as the lifestyle enjoyed by Trent and those he associated with. However, there was a trend that he’d noticed. Many of those within Trent’s social circle were in polyamorous relationships. Successful ones, from what he’d heard and seen.
He met his friend’s gaze and decided to go for broke. “I’ve recently learned something new about myself.”
“Do tell.” Trent leaned back in his chair, nodding his head as though he was a therapist encouraging his patient to continue.
“I think I’m bisexual.”
“The operative word beingthink?” Trent’s smile formed slowly, amusement glittering in his eyes. “I take it you’ve developed an interest in Elijah?”
Logan nodded, took a sip of his drink.
“Am I to assume he alsothinkshe’s bisexual?”
“It’s complicated.”
“It always is.” Trent chuckled. “But complicated can be interesting. So what’s the problem? Sam not into it?”
“Oh, she’s into it. She’s the one who instigated it.”
Trent laughed. “You give her far too much credit. There’s nothing to instigate. She can’t make you want something you don’t want, Logan. You know that. Nor is there muchthinkinginvolved. You’re either bisexual or you’re not. If you’re not, you can be bi-curious. Sounds to me like you’ve surpassed that part. Have you fucked him yet?”
Logan forced his gaze to remain steady on Trent’s face when he nodded.
“Has he fucked you?”
He shook his head.
“Is that something you want?”
A small shrug was his only answer.
“So you’re still in the exploration phase? And yet you’re here, a thousand miles away from home.” He laughed. “Tell me you haven’t fucked it up already.”
Logan thought about the fact he’d slipped out without actually telling Sam or Elijah. “Wish I could,” he grumbled. “Really wish I could.”
***
When Elijah walked into the house alittle after seven, he knew something was wrong.
