Eye on the Ball

A man didn’t need a friggin’ honeymoon. Leon Fleming scowled at the wall of security camera feeds showing the club action. The lounge and bar area. The small dance floor. The playrooms and dungeons, both public and private. The hookups and posturing.

People having fun. Together. His pissed growl earned him a curious stare from the

security guard monitoring the cameras. Leon glared back until the man caved and averted his gaze. Fuck. He backed up to lean against the wall, fighting to tamp down the ragged emotions slapping him around.

Damn Kane for his guilt trip anyway. After a month of manipulation and words of advice to move on, Leon had buckled, and now he was stuck minding Maxwell’s, the private club catering to the elite Melbourne BDSM crowd. All so Kane and his honey could fuck like rabbits in the seclusion of a swanky resort.

Kane is your best friend.

Huh! Easy for his conscience to have an opinion. He was the one stuck in the middle. The reality was much harder, the trip down memory lane ripping scabs off wounds barely healed. Everywhere he looked. Pow! Bam!

Mental photographs of a happier time when he didn’t know shit about pain, didn’t believe grief like this existed. He stirred, pushing away from the wall. Maybe Kane

was right, and he needed the comfort of hard, gritty sex, even if the pleasure was fleeting. Physical gratification to take the edge of his temper. Mellow him out.

A one-night stand.

“Everything looks good.” Leon shoved the words past the lump in his throat. “I’ll go and mingle. Call if you need me.” Even though he wanted to, he couldn’t hide up here the entire night.

He forced his legs to carry him to the door, watched his hand grip the door knob. Somehow, he found himself walking down the set of stairs leading to the lounge. A drink would help to keep the memories at bay. Two or three shots of whisky. It wasn’t as if he intended to play tonight, despite the dull craving for the touch of another human being, skin on skin and the momentary burst of orgasm to blunt the edge of grief.

Nah, wasn’t gonna happen.

Jana, Kane’s long-time assistant, grabbed his forearm, dragging him to a halt before he’d taken two steps in the direction of the bar.

“There’s a guest VIP coming tonight. A male.”

“And?”

Jana huffed out a put-upon sigh and placed her right hand on her leather-clad hip. No-nonsense attitude dripped off her. “Kane always shows them around the club.” Craftiness glinted in her eyes. Determination. Kane had probably warned her, told her to keep on his case and force him out of his funk.

“Fine.” He’d have his drink later. “Where is he?”

Jana hesitated. “He’s late.”

“How late?” A spoiled VIP. Excellent.

“Only half—” She broke off, relief filling her chubby

face. “There he is now.”

Leon turned to survey the guest, and an instant flash of rage jolted him. “Last I heard, Little is a member.” What was that bastard Bryan Little doing here?

“Bryan introduced the guest.” Her voice softened as she studied the dark-haired man posing at the entrance to the lounge, waiting for everyone to notice his arrival. “A member always vouches for a guest. Kane’s rules, remember?”

Distaste curled through Leon. Every time he saw Little, he wanted to smack the smugness out of him. Jana had no inkling of the man’s character, hidden under the charming flirtation and good looks. Little might hold long-term membership status, but Leon didn’t like the way he pushed the boundaries with his submissives. Hell, Jason—

He cut off the thought midway. “Why isn’t Bryan giving the tour?”

“Because he’s a member, not part of the club management,” Jana retorted. “You’re standing in for Kane. You need to do the tour.”

Bryan sauntered up to a group men and women, exchanging greetings and kisses. Touchy-feely shit. Irritated, Leon ripped his attention away and got his first glimpse of the VIP.

“Hunter Blair?” Incredulity struck hard, wiping away his anger.

“Yes,” Jana said in a crisp voice. “At least you have rugby in common.”

“Not necessarily a good thing.” He stared at the tall, powerful man who played rugby for the Auckland Cavaliers. He took half a step forward, something fragile cracking inside him when he realized his first urge was to run his hands over the other man’s broad shoulders. Leon cursed under his breath. What the fuck was wrong with him tonight?

“I’ve placed the usual confidentiality agreement in the induction room.”

Leon froze, not taking his gaze off Blair, aware of the anticipation thrumming through him. Immediately his mind flashed to Jason and familiar pain replaced the alien sensation of lust.

“Boss man, are you listening?”