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“That…doesn’t really help.” The deeper I get into this world, the more I’m realizing that there aren’t any hard and fast rules beyond consent of all parties. That’s it. The scope it is staggering if I let myself think too hard about it.

Sympathy flashes in her dark eyes. “Look at it a different way. He gave you an order. You obviously thought about disobeying it, even if you didn’t. What would it feel like if you did go through with it?”

My stomach turns even as my skin heats. I regretted rejecting Meg the second I did it. If I could go back… “Conflicted.”

She smiles. “A lot of this stuff is feeling your way, especially if you’re in something more intense than a single scene. Talk to him about it. Or her. Or whoever. Communication is everything.”

“Thanks.” I manage a smile of my own. “How long have you been working in the Underworld?”

“A little over a year now.” Her expression dims. “Hades helped me out when I needed it the most.”

Another deal on his part, though at least this one appears to have benefited the person working here. I don’t ask her the details of it. Deals seem to be a private thing, and I’m not really willing to go into my reasons either. I take a deep breath. “Should we get out there?”

“Yeah.” She starts for the door. “The others will be along shortly, but we can make the rounds and get drinks started.”

Working with Aurora is as different from working with Tink as day from night. I enjoy her company quite a bit, but I find myself missing Tink’s snark. We fall into a comfortable rhythm of transporting drinks from Tis at the bar to the various customers who filter into the club as the night goes on. I recognize several of the people from the file Allecto delivered, and I try to pay closer attention to them, but before long, the room is packed and it’s everything I can do to keep up with the orders.

I’m firmly in my head as I move to clear a table that’s been abandoned by two women who have gone through the door that leads to the public playroom and the individual themed rooms. Tink dragged me through there on my first day when it was empty, so I’m a little blurry on the actual details, but if this room is where people come to socialize, those rooms are where they come to play.

I turn around and nearly run into a man standing there. For a second, I forget I’m supposed to keep my eyes down and look directly at him. Hook. One of the people Meg and Hades keep a file on. He looks like a fucking pirate. His medium brown skin is broken by a diamond nose piercing and a trio of golden rings circling his upper ears on each side. His long dark hair is pulled back from his face in some kind of ponytail thing and he’s got a perfectly groomed beard that parts as he gives me a wicked smile. I swear his dark eyes actually twinkle at me. “Look what we have here.”

I remember to drop my gaze, which gives me a good look at his tattooed bare chest and the leather pants that are tight enough to leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. “Would you like a drink?”

“Nothing for me.” He reaches out and gives the green ring attached to my collar a gentle tug. I feel it all the way down to my cock. Hook makes a humming noise. “How long until you’re up for grabs?”

My skin goes warm beneath his gaze, and I know I must be blushing a brilliant red. “I don’t know.” It strikes me that Hades might order me to fuck other people the same way he orders Meg to fuck other people. Before coming here, the idea felt foreign and almost repulsive. Now that I’m beginning to understand the parameters and push and pull of their—our—relationship, my feelings are less concrete.

“Guess I’ll have to keep my eye on you then.” He gives me another flash of bright white teeth against his dark beard. “You’re a pretty thing, little sub. And you blush so nicely.” He doesn’t touch me anywhere but the ring, which hardly counts as touching me, but it feels like he’s run his hands all over my body when he uses that tone of voice. It’s disconcerting to say the least. I can’t stop fucking blushing. Hook chuckles, the warm sound somehow making this whole conversation more unbearable in the best way possible. “What’s your name?”

“Hercules.”

He gives the collar one last tug and drops his hand. I note that he’s got three rings on his right hand and another two on his left. “Don’t look now, but you’re about to be rescued from big, bad me.”