Page 4 of Love by Design (Club Rapture: Risk Aware #1)

MARSHALL

A fter too many drinks and an otherwise uneventful dinner, I said goodbye to my brothers, then locked myself in my car to catch my breath.

It was a few minutes shy of ten when my cell phone vibrated against my thigh.

Without opening my eyes, I fished the device out of my pocket and swiped the screen on, making a mental guess with myself about who the message was from.

“It’s an email from Stanley,” I said to no one. “He’s withdrawing his bid.”

It was not an email from Stanley, but instead a text message from my friend Justin.

Justin

Are you done with your brothers?

I chuckled.

Forever or for now?

Either.

Yes.

Good. Come have a drink.

I closed my eyes again, brows raising, and I rubbed the bridge of my nose until it hurt.

I had wine with Smith at dinner

Come have wine with Micah at Rapture then.

He says please.

I’m sure he does. He says it quite nicely.

He’s mad at me for a punishment from earlier. Maybe if he gets to see his favorite person who doesn’t share a bed with him, he’ll be in a better mood and stop making my life so hard.

A menace, then?

He’s giving me and Keith a run for it.

Justin and Micah had been married more years than I could count, but about five years ago they’d opened their marriage for a third, a man named Keith.

I hadn’t known them then, but I heard after the fact it had been quite the start of things, with Keith shaking up more than just their sheets.

I didn’t envy Justin, a dominant partnered up with a submissive and a switch, but it seemed to work well for them.

What time?

We’re leaving now, so before 11.

I’m too old to be out that late.

Liar. See you soon.

Dropping my cell phone into the cup holder, I didn’t bother keying out a reply.

Of course I would go meet Justin, Keith, and Micah at Rapture because they were my friends, it was a Friday night, and I had a lot of steam to burn off after my meeting earlier in the day.

Heading to Rapture, having another drink or two, seeing my friends, and seeing where the night could take me sounded like just the thing I needed.

Rapture was an abandoned church-turned-BDSM club tucked against the foothills of the Pasadena mountains.

It was secluded and blasphemous, and I’d spent more time there than I’d ever admit, even under oath.

I enjoyed going there to dance and I enjoyed going there to fuck.

Justin and his husbands were extremely close friends with the owners, Landon Miller and Verity Jones, two people I’d also become rather fond of over the past couple years.

Landon’s partner, Gregory, wasn’t around much, but Verity’s partner, Aaron, followed them around like a Doberman on a short leash.

Not that I could blame him. Even though I’d never had a chance to shoot my shot, it was undeniable that Verity was unequivocally kind and universally appealing.

Aaron was a lucky man.

Landon and Verity had bought the church and converted it into a veritable den of iniquity, and it had grown and turned into the most exclusive club in Los Angeles.

On the weekend, the private lofts upstairs were packed with millionaires in five-hundred dollar suits drinking thousand dollar bottles of bourbon, half-naked men over their lap or against the wall.

There were always varying stages of undress and debauchery, and one of the things I loved the most was the calculated unpredictability of Rapture.

I never knew what I’d get, but it would always be a good time.

So, I drove to Pasadena, and I parked in the dirt parking lot, staring up at the huge stained glass rose window over the wooden front doors of the club.

The interior lights reflected through the massive stained glass panels and cast colorful shadows into the parking lot and the alley.

The beat of the music vibrated through the space, encouraging my heart to pick up the pace and my legs to get out of the car.

It was close enough to eleven that I could go inside and get a glass of wine while I waited for Justin, Micah, and Keith to show up.

Back when it first opened, Rapture used to be a typical kind of nightclub where you could show your ID and get through the door.

But as the years went on and their popularity grew, they shifted to a members-only model.

Names matched to background checks, guest lists, the whole nine yards.

It created a different sort of experience that spoke to the new kind of clientele, and I thought it only changed things for the better.

It was nice to go into a space designed for pleasure knowing that there was no one in there who would try to blackmail someone or do anything underhanded.

Even the guest passes were closely monitored to create a safe space for not just the employees, but also the members.

After the slender man at the front cross-checked my ID, I tucked it back into my wallet and headed into the club.

Rapture was two floors, the first being the former sanctuary which Landon and Verity had turned into an enormous dance floor and sprawling bar.

The upper was the old choir loft, which had been converted into a small public play space with private rooms down a short, dark hallway.

There was a patio on the main floor, bathrooms, and not much else.

I hadn’t been to the club in a few weeks on account of how much time the bid was taking, but when I walked in, I found an entirely new first floor spread out around me.

The dance floor and bar were much the same, but a wall had been put up that sectioned off a piece of the dance floor.

It didn’t take more than a quick look to realize they’d built another private area, similar to the vibes of the quiet, upstairs loft.

The walls were painted a dark shade that looked black to me, and a stained glass window cut into one of the walls that let the reflections of the strobe lights over the dance floor shine through was the only real source of light in the space.

Much like upstairs, there was a St. Andrew’s Cross tucked into a corner, a leather spanking bench, and an array of mismatched but comfortable-looking seating.

It was on a plush leather couch that I found Justin, reclined back with an ankle resting on his knee and a weary look on his face. He had a half-empty glass of scotch in his hand, and he smiled when he saw me.

“Of course this place is your first stop,” he said.

I sank down onto the couch beside him, leather creaking beneath my weight. There wasn’t a bar in the room, and there was only one other couple, standing in the far corner with their heads together while they shared a conversation.

“How long has this room been here?” I asked, looking around again to make sure I hadn’t missed anything on my first perusal.

“Two weeks maybe?”

“How long did it take to build?”

“Less than that.” He sipped his bourbon, visibly relaxing. “You haven’t come around in a while.”

“Work has been a lot.”

“It always is,” he agreed, glancing toward the door.

“Where are your better halves?” I asked.

“Keith ran off with Verity, and I sent Micah to fetch you a drink.”

“I just got here.”

“I knew you were coming,” he said with a smile. “And if Micah is going to be a brat to me, the least he can do is take care of you.”

I followed his stare toward the doorway, still vacant of either of his partners.

“What’s been going on?”

“Nothing, he’s just been argumentative this entire week. At first I thought he just wanted some attention, but then I thought maybe the answer was no attention?—”

“Which made things worse,” I guessed.

Justin groaned, but he swallowed it down, adjusting his posture when Micah stepped through the doorway, three drinks balanced between his hands. He set down another bourbon for Justin, something for Keith, then he handed me a glass of red wine.

“Nothing for you?” I asked in lieu of a greeting.

With a frown, Micah reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bottle of water.

“We love a hydrated husband,” I teased, beckoning him down for a hug, which he gave without protest. Micah grumbled in my ear, and Justin reached between us, hooking his finger around the thin leather of Micah’s collar and hauling him down onto his knees.

Micah huffed, unscrewing the cap of his water and taking a guzzle.

Watching the two of them together was always adorable, but when Keith was in the mix, it was like a whole new layer to their dynamic.

Keith was submissive to Justin all the time, but dominant to Micah some of the time, and much like an outing to Rapture, there was no way of telling what I’d get when I went out with the three of them.

“Thank you for my wine, Micah,” I said, angling my glass toward him before taking a drink.

“You’re welcome, Marshall,” he muttered.

I could tell there was more that he wanted to say, but instead he rubbed his thumb over the tattooed wedding band on his left ring finger.

“Are you having a rough go of things?” I asked.

He worked his jaw back and forth.

The couple in the corner moved away from the wall and toward the spanking bench. They kissed loudly, hands roaming over bodies .

“Do you feel like a dash of voyeurism tonight?” Justin asked, glancing toward the corner with the furniture.

“Not quite yet,” I said.

He nodded his agreement and helped Micah to his feet.

Micah took Keith’s drink, and the three of us made our way out of the new private suite and onto the dance floor.

Justin led the way and Micah hung back, but whatever the tension was between them, avoidance wasn’t going to sort it out.

I gently bumped the back of Micah’s shoulder and propelled him forward.

“Dance with your husband,” I whispered into his ear, reaching out and catching Justin to drag him back. Their bodies crashed together, and it wasn’t anything more than muscle memory for Justin to lift his hands and grab Micah before either of them stumbled.

“Did you trip? Are you okay?” Justin asked.

Micah narrowed his eyes at me but turned his stare toward his husband. “I’m fine.”

“I’m going to go find your third,” I shouted over the music, making sure the two of them stayed aligned before leaving them in the middle of the dance floor and heading for the bar.

If Keith was with Verity, he’d be easy to find.

Verity was always a beacon in the crowd, whether they were dressed masculine or feminine or, in extremely rare occasions, in nothing more than their underwear.

But this time, I found Keith first, leaning against the bar, nodding along while Verity talked to him, gesturing with long and elegant hands and an animated face.

I approached from behind Keith, dropping my chin on his shoulder and smiling at Verity until they blushed.

“Stop using me as a tool to seduce unwitting strangers,” Keith said, dropping his hand and smacking my thigh.

“Verity is hardly unwilling, and they’re far from a stranger. ”

Verity waved me off, rolling their eyes at me.

“You look good enough to eat, Verity,” I said with a sly smile.

“Aaron already has,” they countered, “repeatedly. But thank you for the observation.”

“Mind if I cut in and steal this handsome third from you?” I knocked my head into Keith’s curly mop of dark hair.

“Please, take him.” Verity leaned in and kissed us both on the cheek, then spun on their heel and headed off toward the back.

With my chin still on Keith’s shoulder, I walked around until we were facing each other, immediately seeing the worry lines around the corners of his dark eyes.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Micah is just…I have no idea. I was asking Verity for some advice.”

“Get anything helpful?”

“Maybe.”

“The three of you are my favorite throuple and I hate to see you like this,” I said, grabbing Keith by the shoulders and steering him toward the dance floor.

Micah and Justin were easy to find. They’d gotten close, and Justin had a possessive hand around Micah’s throat while Micah gyrated suggestively against his hip. I fit Keith in at Micah’s back, pushing the three of them together like a sandwich.

“Don’t come back until you’ve fixed whatever is wrong,” I said, smacking Justin on the ass for good measure.

He gave me the finger, but the smile on his face and the way he looked at Micah, then at Keith, was the only confirmation I needed to know everything was going to be okay.

I nodded, and Keith nodded back, then I took another drink of my wine and headed back for the first floor suite.

Maybe a little voyeurism was in order after all.