Party time
Six hours in and the party was still going strong. There wouldn’t be much in the way of leftover food, which was a nice stroke for Road Runner’s ego. Even the ribs he’d cooked were all gone. Success by any measure. Add in the fact there had only been one piece of club business all evening, it meant this party had been nearly epic. Tucker’s a stupid asshole, he thought, shaking his head. The man had joined the club at the same time as Road Runner and made it through the prospect period. Then he threw it all away. He hadn’t seen the altercation but heard about it from both Rebel and Skeptics members.
Road Runner surveyed the immediate area surrounding his grill, cataloging the folks milling nearby. Brandy was stretched out on a blanket, Jess cuddled in close to her side, fingers twined together. The girls looked to be having an intense conversation, maybe even the edge of an argument. He frowned, watching them for a moment. Jess leaned forwards, brushing her lips across Brandy’s, then smiling at her partner. They were tight, no cracks for relationship issues to find a toehold, so whatever it was they’d work it out.
Across the yard, he saw DeeDee’s fingers slip something into Jase’s back pocket before she turned and strolled away. Road hoped it was one of the two keycards he’d gotten for the woman’s hotel suite at the Admiral. Jase looked stupefied, eyeing the hip action the woman was giving him, and his expression made more than one man in the vicinity grin. He watched as Jase fished out the object, grinning when he saw the hockey guy flash the key at Hoss, pulling a genuine smile to that man’s face. Looked like Hoss had finally given up that pursuit, which was best for everyone involved. Just not done, member going after a man’s old lady, even if the man was dead. Winger’s memory was respected, and while no one wanted to see DeeDee alone, there was no way any of them would sign off on her being with another member. If he’d kept going down that path, someone would have talked to the man.
Road hoped he would see DeeDee and Jase for lunch tomorrow, but if not, then he’d expect they were holed up in their suite getting something sweet. He liked it when things worked out the way he wanted them. Mica and Daniel, DeeDee and Jase, Digger and Kathy, Deke and whoever the fuck that chick was he had on his bike—all working out, all good. Couples everywhere, he might need to tell Goose to watch out, that legend bachelor status might be threatened. Get the right woman, it wouldn’t be so bad.
Twisting and reaching, he wiped down the last of the turning forks and tongs, using a splash of water to finish the cleanup. Focused on his tasks, he didn’t see the tall man stalking his direction until black boots entered his field of vision. Glancing up, he grinned at Goose, standing close enough he might seem to be looming. Ordinary people would be cautious of the quiet biker, but he knew the man better than most. Plus, I’m far from normal. He knew Goose’s triggers, knew how to bring him back if he got sideways. They’d been friends for years now, both in and out of the different type of clubs they preferred.
“Brother.” Goose’s greeting was warm, and Road gave him a chin lift. “It’s late. Mason’s callin’ an end.” Road nodded; he’d seen Mason walking the crowds a few minutes ago, heard the distilled quiet in his wake. Continuing to steadily stack clean platters and utensils into boxes standing in the grass nearby, Road waited to see what else Goose had to say. Prospects would be in charge of hauling the crates to trucks and then back to the clubhouse, all Road had to do was get things into a portable state. Goose glanced around and lowered his voice slightly, “Was thinkin’ of rollin’ to the north side.”
Road Runner straightened, knowing the anticipation he felt was matched in his friend, their faces no doubt holding the same eager expressions. His favorite club was on the north side, and he’d often met Goose there. Thoughts of their last session raced through his head, and he felt his cock start to stiffen, fattening and pushing against the zipper of his jeans. He licked his lips, then forcing nonchalance, muttered, “Yeah?” With a shrug, he picked up a box and added it to a nearby stack, using a bit more force than necessary. “Lookin’ for company?”
“Wouldn’t be opposed.” Goose’s grin flashed white in the shadows surrounding them. “Ten minutes?”
“I can cut that in half.” Road glanced around, seeing Jase and DeeDee already gone, and Brandy now stood alone, folding the blanket she and Jess had been lounging on. “In fact, I think I’m ready to go now.”
“Then, let’s roll, brother,” came the quick response and the two men walked through the party slowly winding down in the shared backyards of Mason and Mica’s houses. In short order they were riding side-by-side, following well-known roads to their favorite playground.
Standing in the lounge area on the members-only floor, Kevin felt himself slipping into the persona he wore in the club. Here they were Kevin and Kris. Not much different than the bikers, and for him, not as different from the chef as folks might think, the confidence and smooth way of talking were a comfortable fit. Like a glove. He glanced at Kris standing beside him. Both men had lockers in the members’ area where they stored their preferred club wear, changing upon arrival, leaving their colors locked away. Neither saw it as an abandonment of the club, but rather as a way to respect the patch and the things it stood for. Tight black tees tucked into well-worn jeans, Kris wore a black leather vest swinging from his broad shoulders while Kevin’s vest was black satin. They looked like matched bookends, and it wouldn’t take a genius sub to realize they were looking for a shared scene tonight, as they did almost every time they played together.
This early in the evening, barely eleven o’clock, there were only a few dozen players in the club. Most of the usual crowd would be arriving at or after midnight, settling in for hours of pleasurable playtime. Eyes sweeping left to right, he gauged the quality of the subs standing or sitting in the area, dismissing most as too timid.
Neither he nor Kris enjoyed humiliation scenes. No, their preferences were for confident subs, ones not afraid to negotiate for their desires. Even if a Dom didn’t agree to fulfill them, knowing what a sub wanted gave you a window into their head in a potent way. A sub who couldn’t describe their needs left a good Dom powerless, because any resulting scene would naturally revolve around the things you craved. Not a bad thing when wishes lined up for everyone, but distasteful as an only avenue. He and Kris were about joint discovery and treasuring the gift of submission offered to them, not simply forcing their way through a scene. There would be more players in the club soon, and even if he and Kris didn’t find the right partner, Kevin knew there would be no end of provocative scenes to watch. Oh, yeah. Enjoyment and pleasure came in many guises.
A flick of Kevin’s fingers called a serving sub to his feet. Without looking down, he quietly gave her his order for juice along with a set of very specific instructions that would allow him to praise her when she returned. He frowned when she remained on her knees and was ready to reprimand her when Kris’ voice stopped him. “Kitten.” Rough and dark, it wasn’t hard to read displeasure in his tone. “Are you lookin’ for trouble tonight?”
Kevin turned to see Kris scowling. It was clearly time to defuse the situation, even while he reinforced the message about respect. “If this little one is seeking trouble, then it’s certain she found what she’s looking for.” He took a step to one side, intending to place her between him and Kris, and was startled when the sub shifted with him, honing on him like a needle on a compass. Staring down and truly focusing on the girl for the first time, he took in the shape of her slim body, the bright sheets of shining hair draped across her back, and his gut clenched at the sense of familiarity that swept over him. No way. Testing his suspicion, he took another step to the side and watched as she moved to remain in line with him, every muscle in her body visibly tense and strained. Yearning towards him, as if he were her true north. Can’t be. It’s been years.
“What the hell, Kevin?” Kris’ voice was still displeased, but now held a flicker of humor, too. In displaying an explicit interest in Kevin, the woman had effectively dismissed any part Kris might have played in her night. Wordlessly controlling the encounter, she was trying to top from the bottom, and both men recognized the behavior. Kevin was the only one who thought he might know the reason behind it.
He bent at the waist, one of his hands disappearing underneath the hair that curtained the sub’s face, finding and cupping her chin by feel. Lifting slowly, he revealed her face by degrees, raising her head until the column of her throat strained. Neck bending backwards as far as it could go, even as her expression remained impassive. Eyes closed, she was waiting for his reaction, her petite features almost exactly as he remembered. Her name slipped from his mouth without conscious thought. At the sound of his voice, her eyes flew open, and he was startled to see fear stamped in their depths. “Aurelie.”