Page 19 of Bourbon Kingdom
“Really?” Rex asked, “You would rather go to the back with me?”
“What? No!” I shouted, and then realized I needed to bring it down a couple of decibels. “I mean, no,” I replied more calmly. “I misunderstood; I don’t mind if you, uh . . . let her take care of that,” I pointed at his boner.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned down and pressed his head against my ear. “Don’t worry, Kitten, she will only be pleasuring me; I’m holding out to be with you emotionally.”
Oh, well fucking lucky me. Jesus. When did Rex become such a creep?
“Got to get it somewhere,” I smiled and shrugged my shoulders, wondering what the hell was coming out of my mouth.
“You’re not mad?” Rex asked, looking a little worried.
“You do what you have to do, Rex. Get at it!” I said, while pumping my fist in celebration.
I’m fucking certifiable today.
Taking a good look at me, he ran his hand across my face, making a coarse thrill run through my body from his touch. His mouth connected with my ear and he said, “Believe me, I will be thinking of you the whole time. I can’t wait to get my hands on your pussy. I’ve been dreaming about it for months. Explore the club; I’ll be back, Kitten. Until then, think of me.”
Bah! Yeah, that won’t be happening.
“Okay,” I said meekly, trying to make him feel bad.
He should feel bad. What kind of sick creep went off with another woman to relieve himself when he was trying to be with me? If I needed an indication that he had ulterior motives, then this was it. He didn’t want me. He was just using me to get back at Jett in the worst possible way, and the longer I stayed here, the sooner the day would come when I was the one naked on stage, getting flogged up by Blane the muscle man.
“Be good,” he winked and walked away with the girl who’d been shackled to the stage.
In awe, I watched as she followed after Rex with her head down, in a completely submissive state. To say the club was a bit frea-kay was an understatement. Um, how about downright wrong? Men came to Masquerade to watch “demonstrations” on how to dominate a woman, and then they took them to the back rooms to have their way with them, or they held one-on-one instructional sessions with Blane on stage. Yeah, that’s just fucking weird. Who comes up with something like that?
I thought about the Lafayette Club and how it was more of a high-class strip club; no one was ever naked, and the only thing that ever touched the Jett Girls was a man’s lap, that was about it.
Diego’s club was slightly different. I wasn’t quite as immersed in his club, but from my understanding, it was a sex club for couples or singles looking for coupling. There were acts that were performed center stage, but they were works of art, well thought-out erotic dances, not some sex shackling. No one was cuffed, no one was forced to have sex; unlike Masquerade, where the women walked around like slaves. Where did they even find the women to participate? Even at my lowest, I don’t think I would have stooped this low.
“Are you just going to let your boyfriend go off with that girl?” an Australian accent asked from the stage.
A little shocked, I looked over at Blane, who was wiping some sweat off of his forehead and looking down at me with a judgmental eye. How dare he judge me? He was the one practically beating a woman a few minutes ago.
“Fuck off,” I said, while turning around and taking in the club, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to bust Rex without bringing in my phone to record everything.
“Cheeky, eh? Don’t be mad at me when you’re being a doormat.”
“Excuse me?” I said, while turning back toward him and practically spitting fire out of my eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not with Rex; I actually despise the man and wish that he would burn in hell along with his partner Leo. I am, by far, the farthest thing from a doormat; I don’t take shit from anyone, and I especially don’t take shit from a highlighted-haired man with clothes that are entirely too small for his body,” I stated, while looking Blane up and down. “And your accent is stupid.”
Good one.
I turned back around, and that was when I realized what I’d said. Holy shit. Blane was Rex’s friend, they went way back, he was going to tell Rex everything I just said, and who knew what would happen from there?
Quickly, I turned around to wipe up my mouth diarrhea, but was faced with a smirking Blane, who started to walk toward me with determination, like he owned the room. Little did he know, I had my fair share of experience with alpha males, and I knew how to put them in their place . . . easily.
“Listen, I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t talk,” Blane said, as he grabbed my wrist and started walking me toward a door that was off of the bar.
“Where the hell do you think you’re taking me, you beast?” I scathed, as I tried to claw my way out of his grasp. I was unsuccessful in getting away from the burly man holding on to me.
“Just stop, will you?” he said, his accent growing stronger with his irritation.
Scratch that, his accent wasn’t stupid, it was tits-a-blazing sexy.
We pushed past a mini-kitchen and into an even smaller room that only had a desk and a chair in it. The room reminded me of a manager’s office you would find in a restaurant, stark and depressing.
