Butterfly Madness [Loving in Silver 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (15 page)

“And now that we’re not acting like horndogs any longer, Marley doesn’t know what’s going on with us.”

Roarke looked completely miserable as he sat across from him. Grayson wanted to pull him into his arms and kiss the sadness off his face. That might have worked before for some things, but he doubted it would for this.

“Maybe we should talk to Colt.”

“He’ll just tell us what huge fuckups we are. Do you really want to hear it?”

“I’ll listen, if he adds something useful.” Grayson got up from his chair and picked up the plate. He took it to the fridge and shoved it inside. “Okay. Let’s go see him.”

The dogs were put in a room off the kitchen. There was no way they could trust Chug to be left to his own devices. He had only just graduated to being left out of his crate while they were gone for short periods of time. They made sure he had his favorite chew toy and the puzzle ball filled with treats, which would dispense if he rolled it just right.

Talking to Colt shouldn’t take them long. How long could it possibly take their friend to tell them they were idiots?

Once they were at the club, however, they found themselves diverted from their mission. Shock rocketed through them as they saw Marley sitting at a table watching a very provocative pair of male dancers on the stage, a beer on the table beside her.

Colt’s club had several levels. This one was for those just wanting a little spice tossed into their day. There was music, male and female dancers, in various combinations, as well as provocative interaction between the entertainers and the audience.

The next level was on the second floor. It was for people wanting to engage in sexual encounters. It was basically one big room with beds, couches, swings, and benches, and a stage at one end. Anyone could enter the room as long as they were a member of the club. Once inside, just about anything could happen. There was always someone there to monitor the activities, but they never interfered unless it appeared someone was not following the strict rules. And rule number one was that no one would be forced to participate with another.

Grayson knew there were rarely any problems inside the club. Troublemakers were dealt with swiftly and harshly by Colt. He didn’t tolerate the actions of a few who could easily ruin it for the rest of the members. If there was an assault, Grayson was called.

The third floor was very like a hotel. There were eight private, luxury bedchambers, all of which were constructed down the center of the building, each separated by two narrow rooms so an unseen audience could look into them from all four sides. Even the doors had sliding panels. Anyone walking down the hall could simply stop in front of an occupied room, slide the panel back, and watch whatever was taking place inside. Needless to say, the rooms were very popular by those who loved to perform sexually in front of others, as well as those loving to watch. The rooms were booked months ahead.

The fourth level was the BDSM portion of the club and it was within the solid walls holding up the building. It was dark, mysterious, playing very much into the lifestyle, and had rooms where scenes could be played out by a Dom and his submissive. These rooms were also monitored, but most of the action happened out in the main room where the D/s scenes would be performed in front of an appreciative audience.

“What do we do?”

Just as Roarke asked, Marley glanced back and saw them. They saw her frown before she smiled. Obviously she didn’t know how to take their presence in the club. Not any more than they could comprehend hers.

Knowing they couldn’t avoid her, and wishing they had gone straight to Colt’s office without going through the club area, they went to the table.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asked over the throbbing music, then motioned for them to sit in the extra chairs at the table.

A topless server of the female variety came over, smiling warmly at them. Like many working in the club, they had grown up with them. Sometimes it was just weird, like now. Grayson tried not to stare at the woman’s gorgeous tits. And they were gorgeous. And real. He liked the real variety.

“What can I get you guys?” Bambi asked cheerfully, not in the least bothered by their blatant stares.

“Whiskey,” Grayson told her, finally averting his eyes. They landed on Marley’s amused face. “You, Roarke?” he asked, nudging his lover in the shoulder.

“Uh, beer. Anything you got.”

“Sure thing. Hey, Danny’s going to be dancing shortly. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Both men groaned. Danny was another they had known since childhood. He made a point of dancing as provocatively as he could whenever he was working on the rare times they came in. It wasn’t a usual hangout. They came in once in a while to watch a show or do the down-and-dirty on level two. They enjoyed fucking each other in front of an audience from time to time. Thinking about that made him look at Marley. He wondered if, when they got this whole mess straightened out, if she would be willing to let them fuck her in front of others.

With his cock hardening at the thought, Grayson realized she was waiting for an answer to her question. How long ago had that been? He was glad of the dark atmosphere when he felt his cheeks heating.

“We come in once in a while. A couple times a month, maybe.”

“It depends on our mood.”

Marley nodded, looking back at the stage where the dancers were finishing their routine. The music had no sooner faded away than it began again, strong and thumping. Danny appeared, blue lights flashing over his hard body. Muscles rippled and flexed as he performed, his fully erect cock bouncing freely He grinned and winked at Grayson, causing him to bite back a groan.

“He’s going to rock your world,” Bambi laughed, placing their drinks on the table.

She sauntered away, her beautiful ass swinging back and forth, the cherry red thong she wore emphasizing the motion.

While Danny did nothing for him personally, he played along. When the man leaped powerfully off the stage, much to the delight of the audience, to dance his way over Grayson, he leaned back to look up into the grinning face. The look he gave his longtime friend warned him he better not get too carried away.

Grayson should have known better. Danny straddled his lap and began humping his stomach while holding on to his shoulders. It didn’t help when Roarke and Marley began laughing their asses off.

Pulling him close, he said in the dancer’s ear, “Wait until I see you driving around town in that piece of crap truck.”

“You wouldn’t,” Danny huffed but then grinned when Grayson slapped his bare ass with a hard hand. “If you ever get rid of pretty boy over there, give me a call.” He rubbed his stiff cock once and winked.

Roarke glared at the man as he leapt off his lap and began dancing around the tables, showing off his wares. “I’m not pretty.”

“Yes you are,” Marley and Grayson said together, laughing when he pouted.

Since she seemed to be relaxed with them here in the club, Grayson decided he would just let sleeping dogs lie. No point stirring anything up. They would relax, have some fun, and then they would talk. It would also prevent them from having to talk to Colt. They really didn’t want to listen to him telling them what they already knew. They were screwups.

“So, do you guys like Bambi’s breasts?” Marley asked conversationally, watching them closely.

“They’re okay,” Roarke said. “They’re a little big.”

Blue-green eyes turned on him. “What about you, Grayson? You seemed particularly fascinated.”

Now, how was he supposed to answer that? He was surprised Roarke had answered. The man could be such a wimp at times like these. It was like answering the question “do these pants make my butt look fat?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Marley laughed. “Two nonanswers. What a coward.”

Grayson nodded and grabbed the tumbler with the whiskey in it. He sipped it, giving himself more time. He appreciated the smooth caress of the alcohol over his tongue. Colt served nothing but the best to his customers.

“I like the size of your breasts,” he stated out loud, then blinked in surprise. Where had that come from? He hadn’t even been thinking it. At least he hadn’t right at that moment.

“Thank you. Now, do you two want to tell me why you started treating me like I have some horrid communicable disease?”

Both he and Roarke shifted uneasily. They had both shared terribly intimate moments with Marley. They couldn’t get beyond that. Now that they had decided they had moved too fast with her, they felt guilty as hell.

“Well, we just thought we should slow things down a bit, let you get to know us better and vice versa.”

“Don’t you think I can make decisions for myself?”

Shit, was she just going to ask trick questions all night? Grayson groaned inwardly and took another sip of whiskey, giving himself precious time to think of what the right answer was.

Roarke decided to jump in right then. He reached for her hand. “Sure we do, baby. But we know you’re going through some rough times right now. We just shouldn’t have been so pushy.”

“I could have said no at any time. If I don’t want something, I’ll let you know. The thing is, I’ve been going back and forth on this. You’re great guys and I do understand what you want from me. I tell myself I’d be crazy to let you go. Then there’s the other part of me that says I shouldn’t jump into something so big, so important, because I might not be making decisions with my brain, but my heart. If I make the wrong decision now, we could all get hurt more later on.”

“That’s it exactly, baby,” Grayson told her huskily, wishing they were somewhere private. The throbbing music was making it difficult to hold a conversation. Still, they might just need the neutral territory of the club to deal with this subject. He didn’t want to risk any of them closing down if they left, seeking more quiet and privacy. “We don’t want to rush you into anything. I’m afraid we’re pretty decided on what we want. There have been women in the past that we’ve considered. You’re the first one to really attract us, to touch something deep inside each of us. We can’t ignore that.”

“Marley, we’ll give you all the time you need. Just never think we don’t want you, because that would just be wrong. We do want you. I want to kiss every butterfly on your body, make love to you, and make you mine. And I know Gray feels the same. Don’t you, babe?”

Grayson nodded, relieved Roarke knew him well enough that he could speak for them both. He had done it well, too. “Yes, that’s how I feel, too. We’re willing to wait.”

Marley opened her mouth to speak, but all hell broke loose just then when a woman wearing only a collar around her throat came running through the club. She was crying and there was blood streaming from a gash across her cheekbone.

Jumping up from his chair, Grayson caught her midflight, pulling her close. “What’s going on?”

“My Dom went nuts. He refused to respect my safe word,” she sobbed brokenly. Marley grabbed the linen napkins Bambi hurried forward with. He took them and pressed them to the bleeding wound. “I need to get out of here.”

“We’ll get you right to the hospital. Don’t worry.”

Colt appeared just as a huge man appeared from the rear hallway where the stairs leading to level four were located. As the leather-clad bruiser charged along the wall, the owner of the club stepped forward, blocking his path.

“I want to know what’s happening here.”

“Get the fuck out of my way, Redford,” the man shouted furiously. “I want that bitch back downstairs. I’m going to teach her a new lesson or two.”

Grayson handed the woman over to Roarke. He moved swiftly to stand beside his friend. “The only thing you’re going to do is get arrested for assault.”

That pissed the guy off even more. Grayson wondered who he was. The woman, too. He had never seen either of them before. How had they passed Colt’s vetting process? He would have contacted other BDSM club owners before these two could have even crossed the threshold. The Dom shook Colt loose like he was a mere annoyance. It was the wrong move, followed up by another. He took a swing. With a swiftness which made those around them blink, Colt had him on the floor with his arm twisted behind his back.

Grayson handcuffed him then pulled him to his feet. The guy had to weigh over three hundred pounds and most of it was pure muscle. He should have anticipated it, but he never saw the headbutt come his way.

With pain shooting through his skull along with bright light and stars, Grayson staggered backward. As he clutched his throbbing head he heard a loud howl. He shook off the pain long enough to force his eyes open. He saw that the guy was on the floor again, doubled up in a fetal position.

He pointedly ignored Marley when she kicked the guy in the gut. Obviously, the way the man was writhing and gasping, she had kicked him in the balls as well.

“You fucking bitch!” the man snarled between gasps, his eyes full of malevolence.

When Roarke kicked the guy next, he knew he was going to have to tutor his lovers on how to avoid being arrested. Blinking, wishing his head would stop hurting, he reached for the guy again. Colt and Roarke helped him this time. Bouncers from the club surrounded them. He wouldn’t be pulling any more crap. As they got outside he was relieved to see his deputy, Tim Macon, pulling up to the curb. It took several men, but they finally got the guy into the back of the cruiser.