~ ~ Zack ~ ~

"You look worse for wear this morning, man. I know how you feel."

The comments set my teeth on edge. The guy, a new bar manager, Craig, perched on the other side of the bar and presumed to know me, when in fact this was only the second time I'd spoken to him.

I didn't hire him. James Charles, my right-hand guy, did, which was surprising because I trusted James implicitly, but he was off the mark with this one. Something was off, I could taste his arrogance like a mouthful of rusty nails.

Fuck me. The day had not even started and I felt like ripping my eyes out. I blinked and tried to relax my jaw and the fucking obvious scowl. I needed to chill out. With a deep breath, I rubbed over the space between my brows. Having just spent the better part of an hour with Craig, going over inventory and staffing, I was coming close to losing my patience but I'd give him this though, he at least stopped me thinking, which in my current state—was a good thing.

Not picking up on the fact that he was annoying the shit out of me, I turned away from him and yanked my phone from my pocket as it rang out, again.

"Zachery Coles," I answered without checking the caller ID. I didn't even try to mask the gruff irritation when I clicked the answer button on my cell phone and all but slammed it to my ear. The damn thing had been ringing non-stop.

"Bad time?" came a familiar voice of my friend, Max, who seemed immune to my umbrage because I'd slept what? An hour at most? Thanks to a visit from a dark-haired siren...Sasha.

I regretted little in life and trusted others even less so. But beneath my wide chest beat a loyal heart. Especially to those I considered friends. I'd learned the hard way the meaning of friends. But along with loyalty, this heart came with a few cracks. And Sasha Darling, my best friend's daughter, was a huge fucking crack.

"No. Just some shit I have to sort out here and sorry for not getting back to you." It had slipped my mind, or rather Sasha had stolen it, or I'd completely lost it. The jury was out.

"Anything I can help with?"

What? Max offering to help? That wasn't like him. Max was usually what didn't kill you made you stronger kinda guy. It was one of the things I appreciated about our friendship. But if I needed him, he would be there. No questions asked. "Nothing I can't handle. You wanted something?"

"I won't keep you long, but I'm calling to ask a favour."

Oh, now I was intrigued, walking through the main floor of Risk on the way back to my office. "I'm listening." Thankfully, there were only a handful of members in the club, most of whom had pulled an all-nighter; and here at Risk, we respected their privacy.

The line went quiet as I made it to my fourth-floor office and slammed the door behind me. I should have been at our morning meeting by now, but fuck it, James could handle it.

"Ellis is about to graduate." He grunted. "Tomorrow."

Ellis was Max's eldest son. He had three kids, but shit? Graduating already? Christ, I felt old.

"Congratulations," I offered.

"Yeah. Fuck knows how he managed it. Kids a shit show."

Kicking out a smirk at Max's blunt assessment of Ellis, I tried to think back to when I'd last seen him. He must have been what? Fifteen? But even back then, he and Max had butted heads. They were too alike. "Money well spent, I guess?" Still not sure where this conversation was going.

He huffed. "He needs some focus, a little guidance in his life before he ends up in jail or hospital."

Fuck. Things had changed."What? The kid's trouble?"

"You want the bullshit answer or the honest one?"

"Honesty is the only answer, Max."

"According to Sophia, I'm being too hard on him, but it fucking burns me, he thinks he can have a free ride." His frustration was loud and clear. "Look. I know I'm asking a lot here, but I want you to give him a job."What the...I sat up in my chair as he carried on. "Three months is all I'm asking. Fucking drum some real life into him as well as keeping an eye on him."

The grooves in my brow deepened. "I'm not a babysitter Max." What the hell did I know about kids—although technically he was what? Twenty-three? An adult.

"I'm not asking you to babysit. Just, fuck. I don't know. The only thing he's interested in is pussy and getting high."

Wasn't that normal for his age?

Oddly, Max sounded off-kilter, desperate almost, and I remembered my dad asking him to take me under his wing when I was the same age. So it caught me between a rock and a hard place. I couldn't say no. But I thought it prudent to ask.

"So you want him to stop thinking with his dick, but you'll happily ship him off to a kink-club? To what? Learn the ropes?"

Max grunted. "Don't you have an intern program or something?"

"No."

"Fuck. I don't know, Zack! Get him doing whatever. Scrubbing floors; if that's what you need him to do." He sighed out. "Kid needs a lesson in the real world."

I supposed James could manage him. He was always complaining he needed an assistant. Despite that, I wasn't too happy. "Have you asked Ryan?" Seemed the logical choice, and he was mostly based in the States.

"I asked. But he's busy in Europe. A merger or some shit going on. And if I send him to LA without Ryan keeping an eye out, then the only thing getting a workout will be his dick."

Fuck. This day was getting no better. With a silent groan, I flopped back into my high-back executive chair. Glancing around my immaculate office, I tried to remember what part of the design that had cost me a pretty penny brought me comfort.

Oh, wait. Nothing in here brought me comfort.

Everything in here, from the oversized desk to the not big enough leather sofa and way overpriced designer rug, had been someone else's idea of calming. Instead, the result was just fucking ugly. I needed to hire a new interior designer. But it was my fault for giving them carte blanche and a blank cheque.

It was then my eyes landed on a crusty mark on the edge of my table. Fucking Karle. Gritting my teeth, he couldn't even clean up his own shit properly. Opening my drawer, I grabbed the disinfectant wipes. "So that's all. Put him to work and ship him back in September?"

"Yeah, and look at this way, you get free labour."

Nothing was ever free and a knot of too-good-to-be-true coiled in my stomach. It felt like one of those timeshare scams. The kind where they offer you spectacular prizes for sitting through a one-hour presentation, but held you hostage all fucking day, sucking your soul out of your ass.

"I'll get him to you by Tuesday."

Fuck me. Six days. I stabbed a hand through my hair. "Fine." I could already feel a headache forming.

"Appreciate this, Zack. I owe you."

I could almost taste Max's relief at me agreeing, his winning smile spreading across his face, but there was no smugness there. He seemed genuinely happy. It was mind-boggling that he could send his kid halfway across the world to work in a kink club.

It also threw a huge fucking wrench in my idea of a vacation.

Rocking back in my chair, alone in my office, alone. It took all of thirty seconds for my mind to reset back to last night.

I'd wanted her. Wanted what she was offering. Clearly the blood had abandoned my brain when I'd watched her pink tongue sweep over her lips and I laid my hand on her skin to feel it burn my fingertips.

Fucking hell.

That dress. Those big, innocent eyes and sweet curves. Her perfect cunt, all pink and swollen, not to mention her fucking asshole winking at me and as tight as the eye of a needle.

My dick immediately sat up as something primal and territorial and fierce swept through my veins.

Sasha Darling had been every inch the dark-haired temptress and at thirty-fucking-six I should be able to control these fucked up urges.

Fuck. I sucked in a breath attempting to distract myself I shifted my attention to the pile of paperwork and occupied my hand with the swipe of my signature as opposed to a round of wanking off under the desk.

I shouldn't call her a siren, or temptress, more like an intruder given the way she'd got inside my head, filling it with disturbing images. Images that didn't belong there. Not in this lifetime – not in any fucking lifetime.

~ ~

By the end of the day, a different distraction was in order. Stripping off my tie and losing the jacket, I undid a few buttons on my white shirt and rolled up the sleeves to my elbows. Tonight, I would head down and join two of the masters on the ground floor in the club as we had a new batch of subs that had been green-lighted after their month-long introduction.

I found them in the open viewing area, and just like every other time I came down for the first night, I gauged the submissive pool, wondering if one of them might catch my eye and become my eager little fuck-toy.

Whilst they were all prancing around in an attempt to catch not only my attention but also Master Jon's and Master Mike's. I turned to see a sweet little slip of a girl with wild green eyes and glossy lips, weighing in at no more than a few bags of sugar. I could read a submissive within the first few seconds. "Yes?"

"Um..." Her gaze travelled across my chest, lashes fluttering and cheeks deliciously flushed. "Sir... I was hoping I could...be..." Biting down on a nervous smile, she lifted her head but kept her eyes respectfully down. "Of interest, if you would consider...?"

I knew without asking what she wanted from me. This one needed a firm hand, someone to smack her ass and make her beg for mercy whilst she giggled and pleaded for more.

So fucking boring and my dick never even twitched. She was too soft, too sweet.

Sasha was sweet...

I quickly tossed that thought out.

"Sir?" Her voice was soft, asking more than her use of the word 'Sir' implied.

Oh yes. I looked her up and down. No way would she allow me to have my way with her, to manhandle her before I breached her virgin ass. Hell, her ass wasn't even as big as my fucking hand. She would rip in two. And most likely slap me with a lawsuit.

"I suggest you swim in the shallow end, and earn your armbands before you swim with the sharks, sweetheart."

I moved on and gauged the male subs. Someone who could take the brutal pounding of my cock.

A scene caught my eye, and I wandered over, crossing my arms over my chest. I couldn't see the sub's face because he was facing away from me, his hands cuffed above his head, legs spread and ankles secured to the floor.

Nice long limbs, thick muscles and a hell-of-a juicy ass.

I could envision myself standing behind him with my whip, applying the stinging burn from the knotted ends that would have him jerking and twitching, his cock so hard he could hardly breathe from the need to come.

I shifted closer, and the sub's head turned, pinning his bottom lip between his teeth. He wasn't even feeling the whipping from what looked like a newish Dom, Steven or Simon? Fucked if I could remember. He was being gentle, too gentle, almost reverent.

My dick twitched. Oh, I'd give him hard and if he hung around, I'd fuck his sweet ass and the shyness right out of him.

I flicked my chin up toward the Dom and then left them in peace.

After spending the next few hours monitoring things, I opted for a break. Not that I didn't enjoy watching Master Mike commandeer two wayward submissives and them beg him for mercy. The man was most likely more ruthless than I was.

And so far, tonight, I still hadn't found a male who had a penchant for the darker side of kink. Sitting at the bar, avoiding eye contact with those around me, I needed to take a piss.

In the restroom, I relieved my bladder and as I washed my hands; I saw in the reflection the male sub from earlier. His cheeks flushed as I shook off the excess water from my hands and reached for a paper towel to dry them. "I didn't give you permission to look at me, boy," I barked, and his eyes instantly lowered.

Tossing the paper towel into the trash, I turned and spread my feet wide, squared off, and stared at him. The sub swallowed hard.

And my dick twitched again. Now let's see how keen he was. "Take off your pants and jack off for me." Quirking a brow. "You have permission to come, but you only have one minute to do it, and that includes taking off your pants." I pulled my phone from my pocket and he was already scrambling to get out of his pants.

The timer was counting down as his hand wrapped around his dick. Impressively, he did it in thirty seconds flat and it tempted me to make him lick up his spunk off the floor. Had we been upstairs, I would have. After all, humiliation was also a favourite of mine.

This time, I didn't have to remind him to keep his eyes cast down as he chewed on his inner lip. "What do you say?"

"Thank you, Sir."

I stared at him. I wasn't planning on a new sub so soon. But I needed the goddamn distraction before I lost my shit and did something I would live to regret.

I'd give him a week.

"Follow me," I said as he dipped down to pick up his pants. "Leave them."

He jumped, dropping them as his spine snapped straight. I smirked, flipping around, and he followed with his eyes, eating up my ass.