My Husband's Boss Book 2

Tim POV

Gus and I walked along the street until we came to the nondescript black door of the club. It looked pretty much like any other of the black doors along the street.

There were no giveaway signs, no clues that inside was one of the city's most popular BDSM clubs. If it wasn’t for the CC in gold letters out the front, no one would know it was there.

I almost knocked, but before my hand could touch the door, it opened.

I wouldn’t be surprised if there were cameras hidden somewhere so the staff knew when someone was approaching.

A tall, muscular man wearing black latex that left very little to the imagination opened the door.

The man smiled. “Tim,” he said, “Welcome back. Jason mentioned you might be coming by tonight.”

“Hi Kai,” I responded, “nice to see you again.”

“You know Gus?” “I do believe we have met before. How are you, sir?” “I’m great, thanks, Kai,” Gus responded.

Gus put his hand on the small of my back as Kai stepped aside and motioned for us to enter. The smell hit me first: leather, incense and that chemical smell, the one that I had learned to associate with the Collar Club.

The entrance was dimly lit; the walls were painted deep crimson. Music was drifting through from deeper in the club. Kai led us through to one of the larger event rooms and the bar. “Please have a drink while you wait; I’ll let Jason know his guests have arrived.”

We ordered a couple of scotches and looked around the room; there was a guy doing a striptease in one corner, with a large crowd around him, watching on.

The beat of the music seemed to sync with my pulse as I watched the guy move across the stage. The man was attractive in an obvious way, muscular, confident, comfortable with the attention. I recognised the type; they were a dime a dozen at the Collar. What mattered was the power dynamic, the control, and right now I felt utterly exposed despite being fully clothed.

“Relax,” Gus murmured beside me, his hand still anchored at the small of my back. “You’re tense.”

I forced myself to take a breath. I was tense. My shoulders were hunched up around my ears, and my grip on the scotch glass was probably tighter than necessary. I tried to loosen my fingers, tried to project the kind of ease I didn’t feel.

The bar itself was exactly as I remembered: dark wood, chrome accents, expensive bottles on the shelves, the music was thumping, and the guy stripping was down to his underwear; he moved back a bit, thrusting his hips to the music, and unexpectedly did a backflip and with it ripped off his underwear, leaving him completely naked, everyone cheered and threw dollars on the stage.

The stripper’s cock was hard, and he stepped up close to some of the patrons who were only too happy to feel his hard dick or give it a quick suck. I was halfway through my drink when Kai came back and told us Jason was ready to see us now.

We followed Kai through the dimly lit corridors of the Collar Club. My heart hammered against my ribs as we moved deeper into the building, past rooms where muffled sounds of moans and the crack of leather on skin drifted through heavy doors. I knew what lay behind those doors. I’d been behind some of them before.

The corridor opened into a private lounge area. Jason sat in a leather wingback chair, a glass of dark liquid in his hand, his legs spread open. There was a man in a black jockstrap, brown hair with a beard on his knees, sucking Jason’s enormous cock. Jason was dressed impeccably, in a black tailored suit and a crisp white shirt, except his pants were down below his ankles.

It was Jason’s smile that made my stomach tighten. That smile that suggested I already knew exactly how this evening would unfold. “Tim,” Jason said, “I’m so glad you came. And Gus, of course. Welcome to my little private area.”

Jason tapped the guy on the head to stop him. The guy pulled off his cock and pulled Jason’s pants up and zipped him up. Jason came over to give me a kiss and hug; I could feel him rub his hard cock over my crotch. He moved over to Gus and hugged him as well. “I don’t think you’ve met Kris; he has some wonderful skills. Hopefully you’ll get to experience some of them before the night is over,” he laughed.

Kris stood off to the side with his legs spread, head bowed and hands behind his back.

I forced myself to smile, to play along with the casual intimacy of it all. Jason’s cologne mixed with something else: sweat, sex, power, did something as my body responded to the familiar scent. The tracker Gus had insisted on placing in my phone felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket, a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this, that someone was watching.

“Jason,” I said, accepting his embrace and pulling back as quickly as seemed natural. “How’s the club going? It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

“Too long,” Jason agreed, his dark eyes studying me with an intensity that made me want to look away. “You look good, Tim. Healthier than the last time I saw you. That accident must have been scary.”

There it was, the casual reference to the thing that had nearly killed me. I kept my expression neutral, took a sip of my scotch to buy some time. I’m feeling much better, I told him; my wrist and ribs are still a little sore, but other than that I’m fine.

Oh good, I’ll make sure we remember that for later on, if we decide to step into one of our scenes.

“Gus, I’m surprised you’d let Tim come back to the Collar Club.”

“I trust Tim; we’ve both had some fun here in the past,” Gus told him.

“Ahhh, yes, you’ve been here before with Pierre, haven’t you? I remember him talking about it.”

“How did that night go?” he asked. “It was fun, real fun,” Gus said.

“Pierre tends to bring out different parts of my…umm… personality.”

Jason smiled, sipping his drink. ”Yes, Pierre’s been a Dom for a long time; his skills at making people comfortable and bringing out what they need are well known, even when they are unsure of what they need themselves,” he laughed.

“Please sit, make yourselves comfortable,” he said. We moved toward the black leather sofa; I was aware of Jason’s gaze tracking me. The leather was cool, a contrast to the heat radiating from me.

“I have to admit,” Jason said, sitting back in his chair, “I was a bit surprised when Pierre told me you asked after me.” He took another sip of his drink, watching me. “I thought since you were remarried now that you’d moved on from the BDSM scene. Maybe built a new life for you and your husband in the suburbs somewhere.”

His voice was pleasant, conversational, but he wanted to know why we were here.

“I’m surprised you came back, back to the Collar club, back in my presence.”

I looked Jason in the eye. I had to be careful; I kept my voice steady.

“I realised I was missing something,” I told him. “The lifestyle, the intensity, Gus was willing to explore that with me.”

Jason grinned; I caught the shift in his expression, like a predator ready to pounce.

“Oh really,” he said. “And what exactly have you been missing, Tim? Letting go of the control? The freeing feeling that comes from surrendering all?”

Jason leaned forward slightly, his massive frame making the wingback chair look small. “Or is it something or someone else specifically you have been missing?”

I felt my throat tighten at the question. Jason wasn’t asking about the lifestyle in general; he was asking about me specifically, about whether I’d been missing him. The distinction mattered, and we both knew it.

“The intensity,” I said, keeping my voice level. “That’s what I’ve been missing.”

Jason studied me for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Then he laughed, a sound that echoed through the private lounge. “You’re a terrible liar, Tim. You always have been. That’s what I liked about you; eventually, the truth always came out.”

He gestured toward Kris, who straightened immediately, his submission evident in the way his body responded to Jason’s wordless command. “Kris, why don’t you show our guests to the observation room? There’s a scene happening in Studio Two that I think they’d find... educational.”