Page 36 of Toren

“Callum, right?” Toren greeted the bartender by his first name, and an unwarranted flare of jealousy flew up the length of Andrew’s spine.

Who the hell was Callum and was he someone Toren had slept with before? It shouldn’t have mattered, but the possessiveness was inevitable and he slid his arm around Toren’s waist and hauled their bodies flush.

“Right,” the very handsome, bright-eyed bartender said with a cockeyed smile. “I definitely recognize you, but I’m so bad with names. I meet so many people here.”

“Toren,” he answered, resting his elbows on the bar. “This is Andrew.”

Callum repeated Toren’s name three times, took their drink orders, and spun away.

“Where do you know him from?” Andrew asked, hoping the jealousy wasn’t audible in his voice.

“Just from here. He’s been working here since they opened if I remember right.”

“Have you ever…” Andrew trailed off.

Toren’s mouth twitched into a smile. “No. Never. He’s married.” At Andrew’s arched brow, Toren added, “And monogamous.”

Callum was back then with beers for both of them, and Andrew’s shoulders relaxed a little knowing Callum had a spouse. He and Toren took their drinks out to the patio, finding a small table in the corner so Toren could have a smoke.

“This is foreplay for you, isn’t it?” Toren teased, blowing a smoke ring into the night sky.

In reply, Andrew took Toren’s hand and pressed it against his thickening cock stretching the fly of his dark blue jeans.

Toren chuckled and took another drag.

“I was jealous that you knew him,” Andrew admitted, and Toren didn’t take his hand away. At the confession, Toren flexed his fingers, seeking out the curve of Andrew’s shaft.

“I hardly know him.”

“Thought you might have fucked.”

“Three years ago?” Toren raised a brow and laughed. “I’m not even sure he was legal then. Or living here.”

Andrew’s lashes fluttered and his knees went a little weak the longer Toren teased him through his pants.

“Do you want me to take it out?” Toren asked.

Andrew did, more than anything, but they had a long night ahead and Andrew was supposed to be the one doing the edging. “I want you to finish your cigarette and come inside with me. I want to find a moderately dark hallway so I can blow you.”

Toren licked his lips, took one last drag of his cigarette and put it out with half the length unsmoked. “Lead the way.”

Andrew grabbed Toren’s hand, wishing he could be led around by his cock without coming in his pants, and walked them both back into the club. The dance floor was busy, plenty of sweaty bodies writhing together in various stages of undress and use.

There was a new playroom off the dance floor, and Andrew walked Toren right into it. There was a couple sitting on a black leather couch, heads pressed together and drinks in hand while they had what looked to be a very quiet conversation. In the corner, someone had pulled out a spanking bench and hoisted their partner onto it. On all fours with their hands and ankles bound, there was clearly no spanking happening that night, but instead a brutal caning that left purple zebra stripes down the backs of the man’s thighs. A trail of precum stretched from the man’s caged cock down to the floor. Andrew and Toren watched silently as the other man begged for the pleasure of release.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” Andrew asked.

Toren glanced at him with dark and hooded eyes. “You tell me.”

“Upstairs.”

Toren followed without being led, and Andrew tried very hard to ignore how much he liked that. They climbed the stairs slowly, stopping at the top in front of the first private playroom. The door was propped open, which at Rapture was an invitation. He pushed it open further and peered inside, finding three men in the room, one of them on the couch sitting on his hands, the other two fucking on the bed.

“A shame we couldn’t have cucked him before you cut him loose,” Toren murmured, which caused Andrew to raise a brow.

“You’re filthy.”

“You like it.”