If I never break another rib it’ll be too soon, not that it’s changed my lifestyle much. I can still make love to Kennedy, although she’s doing most of the work. In fact, I think I like the way things have been going lately. At first, she thought I needed to heal and was trying to baby me at night. She didn’t realize that I’d get better being inside of her. When I finally convinced her that we could have sex as long as she was on top, she was game.

Driving is a fucking bitch though. Turning corners or switching lanes of traffic is a damn nightmare and I’m legit the old man driving in the slow lane right now. I’m on my way to Ward Enterprises to meet with Bryce Adams, the owner of Society X. Apparently this will be his temporary office while the club is being rebuilt. Must be fucking nice, I think to myself as I pull into the underground garage. Even reaching for a parking ticket is fucking painful. You’d think the man in the booth would help a brother out, but nope. He’s just sitting there, staring straight ahead like the zombie apocalypse is about to start.

“Thanks for the help,” I yell out once I have my ticket. The fucker has the nerve to tell me I’m welcome. I must’ve missed where he got off his stool to help me out.

Once my car is parked I make my way back outside. Ward Enterprises is not only a massive building, but also one with the highest level of security. The underground garage doesn’t even go under the building, but off to the side where the courtyard is, protecting it from would be bombers who use their cars as bombs.

The steps to the building loom before me. They’re wider than normal, which for a woman is great because they tend to take smaller steps, but us men have longer strides unless you’re me and you can’t move very well. I’ll be sure to thank Bryce for this one.

After checking in at security, I’m given a badge and scanned before I’m allowed to get onto the elevator. I press the button that will take me to Ward Enterprises and go over what I’m going to say to Bryce. Telling him that I’m quitting will be easy, but I have no idea what he’s going to ask me about that night. I know he’s pissed. I don’t fucking blame him. He has stellar security and one of his employees fucked it all up.

“Hi, I’m here to see Bryce Adams,” I inform the woman behind the large semi-circle desk with the headset on.

“Mr. Miles, you may go in. Mr. Adams is on the right hand side, three doors down.”

I knock on the door and wait for Bryce to tell me to enter which he does immediately. The one thing I know about him is that he’s very private so barging in on him would be highly frowned upon. Not that I plan to use him for a reference unless I go back to stripping.

“Hunter, please have a seat.” He points at the chair in front of his desk, which I gingerly take. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

In my back pocket is the bill from the hospital that Kennedy was able to get for me. With no insurance, I’m responsible for it all. The ambulance ride alone was over a grand.

“Indeed. I think you were one of the lucky ones.”

I nod and let out a strangled breath. It even hurts to breathe when I’m sitting. “Depends on how you define lucky.”

“You’re not dead,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Well yes, I’m not dead.”

Bryce doesn’t show any emotion whatsoever as he stares me down. I’m getting the feeling that I’m the enemy here and not Chad Bates, who was in the room with me before the bomb went off. I’m starting to think I should’ve brought Kennedy with me.

“Do you remember much of that night?”

“I remember it all. What do you want to know?”

“Why did you leave the bondage room?”

I try to adjust, but the attempt is futile, everything hurts. “That night I saw my name on the board for the bondage room and subsequently for the viewing room. I went to Jared to ask about the booking, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. I didn’t want to do it.”

“But it’s your job.”

“I know. I heard a crashing noise come from the room so I opened the door to make sure whoever was in there was okay. At that point, I was going to apologize to the client and let them know I wouldn’t be able to perform with them.”

“Did your dick fall off prior to the accident?”

I look at him warily. “No, my dick is fully attached and functioning.”

“So you were going to tell my client, who pays a hefty monthly fee, that you weren’t going to perform for them? And then what?”

“Then I was going to find you and let you know that I quit.”

“You were going to quit?” He almost sounds shocked.

“Yes, I am still. I’m quitting.” I realize I should’ve given him my medical bills before I dropped that bomb.

“You can’t quit, you’re one of my best dancers.”

I sigh and press my hand against my ribs. “With all due respect, I enjoyed my job, at times I even loved my job, but I met someone and she’s important.”

Leaning back in his chair, Bryce laughs as if he’s plotting my demise. “Let me get this straight. You can have all you can eat pussy and you’re cashing it out for a cunt your dick already knows?”

I nod. “Yeah, I am.”

“Unbelievable.”

“If it helps you process my reasoning, I’m in love with her.”

He dismisses me with the wave of his hand. I leave out the part where I met Kennedy at the club. I don’t want him to think I broke any rules and even though she had me in the viewing room three times, he doesn’t need to know.

“So you’re quitting, great. Let’s get back to the bomb. You were in the room?”

“Right, I opened it to check on the client because of the noise I heard. I flicked the light switch but nothing happened and that is when I heard a male voice telling me that he was my worst enemy.”

Bryce shuffles some papers on his desk. “Freddie Grant?”

I shake my head. “The voice belonged to Chad Bates.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I met him a few weeks back in the parking lot. He accused me of fucking his wife.”

“Are you? Did you?”

“No, that is not my girlfriend’s name.”

“Did you fuck his wife in one of the rooms? Or outside of the club?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Not recently,” I tell him even though I know the answer to be without a doubt no. Retaining attorney client privileges is a fucking bitch. I really want to tell him that Jennifer is a client of the firm’s, but I can’t.

“So why’s he after you?”

Because he’s fucking nuts. “I’m not sure. Don’t you have the police report from Van Bryant?” If he did, he’d know the answer because Kennedy told the police everything.

“No, I’m conducting my own investigation. It’s easier this way. I’m not keen on giving the police my client records, especially since I pride myself on everything being anonymous at the club. You know if this man's wife is being fucked on the inside that is really between them. I don’t expect my staff to tell anyone.”

“We don’t know names anyway,” I point out.

“True. How many dealings did you have with Christy?”

“Not many.”

“According to her phone, you booked the viewing room with her to watch.”

Fuck. I didn’t think about that. I swallow hard and nod. “Yes, my girlfriend and I wanted to explore.”

“She knows you worked at the club?”

“Yeah, she knows.”

“Maybe she’s jealous of you screwing other women and she planted the bomb?”

While his thinking could be spot on, he’s forgetting that Jared would’ve had to be the one involved.

“You’d have to ask Jared, he was her contact.”

“Interesting.” He continues to read over his papers. “So, she’s not the jealous type?”

Yes, she is, but she’s not a killer. “No, she rather enjoys getting fucked by me, definite perk of screwing someone who does it professionally.”

He has a wicked grin on his face while my stomach rolls. This man probably fucks half the staff and clientele and never thinks twice about it.

“I should give these to you.” I slowly reach for the bills and set them on his desk. He picks them up and inspects them without saying much.

“Whatever else comes in, have them sent my way.” He says this without looking at me. Reaching into his drawer, Bryce pulls out a check. “This is your severance since the club is closed.”

I take the check and my eyes bug out. “Wow, thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know it won’t cover everything, but I hope it helps. The club will be closed for remodeling and even though you’re quitting, it’s yours.”

“Thanks. What are going to do with the room?”

He shrugs and kicks back in his chair. “It’s the least popular of the rooms so I’m thinking of changing it to a playroom. It’ll be a mix of the dark room and viewing room, but more one-on-one and all fantasy play.”

“That’s cool,” I reply, not knowing what else to say to him.

“Right. So if you and your girlfriend ever want to play, you know where to go.” He winks and I take that as my cue to exit. Thing is, if Kennedy and I want to play, we’ll do it at home and save the two thousand a month in membership fees.

I make my way out of his office and back to my car without incident, checking every few seconds to make sure my check is still in my pocket. That check alone is enough to get me through the rest of the semester with the hope that I’ll be hired on either at Kennedy’s firm or elsewhere.

The drive back takes forever. Rush hour traffic over the bridge keeps us gridlocked on the interstate. Each car I pass, or that passes me has me looking to see if Chad is driving. That fucker is getting away with murder and needs to pay. Except our hands are tied. His shoddy friends offered up an alibi and it’s my word against his. If we could get him in front of a line-up, I’d be able to point my finger at him simply by his voice. I’ll never forget it.

Instead of going home, I head to the office. I still have a few days of recovery until I’m allowed back at work. These two weeks since the accident have been tortuous. Kennedy goes to work, doesn’t come home for a quickie at lunchtime, and walks in well after closing. Most of the time she finds me in the kitchen with my shorts around my ankles and my cock in my hand, stroking it for her.

Sara smiles at me when I walk in and I point at Kennedy’s office. “She’s free.”

I knock once before opening the door, much to her surprise.

“Hey,” I say, walking to the side of her desk and giving her a kiss. It’s chaste and work acceptable behind closed doors.

“How’d it go?”

“Fine. He asked some questions, though. Wanted to know if I was fucking Jennifer and that’s why Chad came after me, only he says it’s Freddie, but we know the truth. He gave me this.”

I hand her the check for ten grand and watch her eyes go wide.

“Hunter.”

“I know. I mean, I’ll have to watch my spending, but it gets me through graduation. We should celebrate.” I grab my dick, which is already hard from being in the same room with her.

“Not here,” she warns.

I try not to laugh, but to no avail.

“You’re going to hurt yourself even worse.”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

She looks away and that’s when I see it—something’s wrong and she’s trying to hide it from me.

“What’s going on?” I ask, brushing my hand over her hair.

“It’s Jennifer. I’ve been calling her for days and she hasn’t returned any of my messages. I’m worried about her.”

“Maybe she went on vacation?”

Shaking her head, Kennedy returns her gaze to mine. “No, she just came back and while she was gone, she called me, or called me right back every time I would phone her. With the stuff at the club and Chad being questioned, I’m scared that something has happened to her.”

I lean forward and give her a kiss. “You’re a good woman, Kennedy. I’m sure she’s lying low after seeing the bombing. She has to know it was Chad.”

Kennedy nods and melts into me. If my ribs were better, I’d crawl under her desk and feast on her, but getting into an awkward position won’t bode well for my body.

“I’ll let you finish. I need to go home and jack off. My balls are starting to hurt.”

“Geez, Hunter, seriously?”

I shrug. “Can’t help it. It’s all you, babe.” I kiss her, this time letting my lips linger and move softly against hers until she gives me access to her warm mouth. Once our tongues meet, I have both hands in her hair and I’m pulling her out of her chair. She brushes against my bulge, reminding me that it’s not only me who has an issue with being attracted to each other.

“I love you, Kennedy,” I say in between kisses.

I leave suddenly, chuckling my way to the door. When I turn around, she’s standing there with a glazed look, so I do what any self-respecting boyfriend of a high powered attorney does and show her my dick before leaving.

The thump I hear against her door after I shut it must’ve been her shoe flying at my head.

I wink at Sara as I take my exit and watch her bolt to Kennedy’s office. I don’t even care if they’re talking about me.