Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“What brings you here?” the man next to me asks. He’s got a similar accent to Viktor. Russian? He pushes my drink to me, and I take it gratefully.
“Thank you,” I say. I gulp it like I’m dying of thirst. The voice I heard plays in my mind, and I need to get it to stop. I’m not that girl anymore, and I don’t act like her.
“Whoa, now,” the man says, holding his hand palm down. “Take it easy there. Travis is known for his good, strong drinks.”
My head is feeling woozy again and my mouth a little thick. “Is he known for good, strong anything else?” I ask.
Oh my God. Did I just say that out loud? The men just laugh, though. I drink until ice hits my lips. Marla’s with her man. After tonight, I may never be brave enough to return. Tonight, I’m living it up.
Chapter Two
Axle
It’s my first night as dungeon monitor at Club Verge and there’s a blizzard warning. It’s twenty-two degrees in New York City, but that doesn’t stop the kinksters. They’re a dedicated crowd, not put off by things like natural disasters, and anyway, the forecaster who called tonight’s blizzard has a history of doomsday warnings that amount to shit, so people have stopped listening to him. But when Zack, my friend and fellow member of Club Verge, comes in, he comes straight to me.
“Snow’s already started, Axle,” he says, shaking his head as he scans the crowd. I’m almost used to people calling me Axle. It isn’t my real name, but I’m not the person I used to be, so I keep assuming my new identity.
“Yeah. I noticed. You looking for Beatrice?” I ask. His wife Beatrice arrived here earlier with her friend Diana. Club owner Tobias, Diana’s husband, escorted them both in, and the two of them were having drinks at the bar.
“Yeah, I found her. Just sayin’, that weather isn’t looking good,” Zack says.
“Great,” I mutter. It’ll be easy enough to hail a cab and head home when I need to, but I won’t leave until I know every single person here has gone home safely. Ah, well. I don’t have to work at the shop tomorrow, which is why I took this shift to begin with.
Still, it’s gonna be a long night.
“I’ll go see if Tobias is closing early,” I say. “Keep an eye on things here for me?”
Zack nods, scanning the small crowd and he smirks. “Seems like a rowdy bunch but I’ll do my best.”
As I go to exit the dungeon, Beatrice and Diana walk in. Beatrice is tiny with crazy blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun. Diana, tall and graceful with a mane of curls that cascades down her back, grins at me. She’s part club-owner with her husband Tobias, and knows this is my first night as DM.
“Looks like it’s about to get rowdier,” I quip, earning me a playful punch from Beatrice and an eye-roll from Diana. Zack takes Beatrice’s little clenched fist and tsks at her.
“What do you guys think of the weather?” Diana asks, sobering. She crosses her arms on her chest and looks around the room.
“Not sure,” I say. “I was just going to see what Tobias thought.”
“I have a say, too, you know,” she says playfully, but there’s a fire in her eyes. She just wants to remind me that yes, her husband is owner of the club, but she is, too, and it might be good to check my traditionalist views at the door.
“I know,” I say. “But you’re not sitting in the office. Promise, I’m just being lazy, not a chauvinist.”
She grins. “I know.”
“So what do you think?” I ask her.
She frowns. “It’s not looking good. It’s hard to make the call, though, since tonight’s packed to capacity, and the weather could amount to nothing.” Her eyes twinkle. “You know what? Why don’t you see what Tobias thinks.”
“You are such a brat,” Beatrice says. “And filled to capacity? Looks like we just got a little busier,” Beatrice says. As if on cue, a large crowd of people enters the dungeon at once. I raise a brow to Beatrice who merely shrugs.
“Maybe a movie got out or something,” she mutters. Soon, the dungeon is filled with couples and singles, laughing and mingling, and the large room comes to life. The St. Andrew’s Cross in the corner is quickly occupied, as well as several of the spanking benches we have. Verge is comfortably outfitted with some of the finest, well-made BDSM accoutrements, and the classy, cozy atmosphere of Verge typically draws large crowds. We’re a members-only club, though, so I expect there’s been some kind of a meet-up planned for tonight, and this crowd isn’t letting a potential snow storm ruin their fun.
“Yeah, check with Tobias,” Diana says, then shrugs. “No big deal, though, guys. We all have private rooms, so if it gets bad we can stay here.” Verge has a series of color-coded private rooms long-term members have access to, complete with beds and bathrooms and a variety of tools anyone spending the night might use. My room, the crimson room, is the one at the far end of the hall. Sound-proof and utterly private, I consider it my sanctuary when I want to get to know a submissive a little better.