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CHAPTER TEN

LIAM

“We’ve added how many new members?” I ask again in disbelief, hoping I misheard. While I don’t know every one of our members by name, I am acutely aware that there are more than a handful of new faces striding through the doors tonight. Twenty-one by my count so far. Excluding the initial opening night, which was on a small scale, we’ve never added more than a dozen new members at a time.

“Sixty-one,” Conor repeats the lofty number.

Tristan pours a Jameson from behind the bar and slides it to me. “Relax, Li,” he urges. “Everyone was vetted, and we’ve run background checks on everyone. Not so much as a criminal complaint against any of them.”

“And every new Dom came with personal recommendations of three other current members,” Declan adds. “Should be smooth sailing.”

Pouring a drink for Declan and then another for himself, Tristan shares, “Trust me, none of us want any of the type of issues that come with questionable members.”

While I know this club is a large part of all our livelihoods, I can’t shake the nagging feeling that adding this many new people on the same night is ludicrous. That many personalities in one room is too much of an unknown. There are only five of us. Even with our well-trained staff, it’s far too many people for us to try to keep an eye on.

“No play tonight,” I demand, immediately being met with grumblings from Finn and Conor.

“You’re serious?” Finn huffs at his now-soiled plans for the evening.

“Very!” I twirl the glass in my hand against the white marble of the bar. “And watch your whiskey.”

“I always watch my whiskey,” Conor quips, tapping the bar for a refill.

Tristan holds the bottle of Jameson in his hand but hesitates to refill Conor’s glass. Stowing the bottle behind the bar, Tristan laments, “Liam is right.”

“Fuck!” Finn exclaims. “I expect it from the celibate bastard, but you, too?”

“Still not fucking celibate, Finn.” I spin on my chair and stare at the sea of new faces before continuing, “The five of us need to keep watch tonight. We need to make sure that anyone indulging in play is doing so within the parameters of Risk-Aware Consensual Kink.”

Something going wrong could ruin this for all of us.

Catlin approaches the five of us, and Finn pulls her into his lap. He places a soft kiss on the back of her shoulder. Nuzzling his chin into the crook of her neck as she gets comfortable, he sighs. “I’m not disagreeing with you, but next time, could you maybe say something a little earlier? Had I known this was going to be how the night went, I would’ve fucked this pretty wife of mine before we got here.”

“Finn!” Cat squeals, her cheeks immediately turning a heated shade of blush.

Declan teases, “Sweetheart, while we can’t see you when you’re in the room at the end of the hall, from the sounds coming out of it, we all know the two of you aren’t in there playing Monopoly.”

Her discomfort only grows, and she drops her head to hide her face.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about. The people enjoying from the hallway go crazy listening to you come.” Conor brushes his hand over the warmth of her cheek as the red hue adorably flares across her face. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he shares, “Fuck, I could get off simply listening to you come.”

“ Piscín ,” Finn places a tender kiss on the side of her neck as he wraps his hands around her waist. “Please get up so I can beat the piss out of my brother.”

In turn, she wraps her hands over his and glances over her shoulder at Finn, “Let him dream, mo ghrá. Knowing he’ll never have me is more torturous than your fist in his face.”

“Fucking hell, Cat,” Declan exclaims with voracious laughter, and the rest of us join in as Conor slinks back into his seat.

“The lot of you can deflate my hopes of enjoying these beautiful women you’ve all somehow convinced to love you,” Conor playfully huffs, crossing his arms and pretending to sulk. “But just know, you can’t take away the sweet dreams I have of Cat’s little cotton panties or that sweet whimper Layla has right before her toes curl and she comes undone.”

“Fuck it.” Tristan’s face heats with anger, quickly matching the same shade of Cat’s embarrassment. “I don’t care if this place is full of new members. I’m going to beat the fucking piss out of him.”

“Can you all go one measly day without slugging each other?” Layla rolls her eyes as she approaches on Jorge’s arm. “I think you have a bigger problem than the big guy wanting to fuck us all.”

“She doesn’t call me that because I’m tall.” Conor winks at all of us, further aggravating Tristan.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Layla teases, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Based on the line at valet, your new members are very eager to visit. Because I’m pretty sure every last one of them is waiting to get in.”

“Fuck,” I huff, sliding from my barstool. “Layla, sweetheart, join me on a trip to the viewing hall.”

“Really?” Conor barks as she slips her hand into the crook of my arm. “I make a joke about sticking my dick in her and nearly get the piss beat out of me. Meanwhile, Liam asks to take her to the hall, and no one says a word?”

“You fucking twat.” Declan rolls his eyes. “He’s taking her with him so he doesn’t look like a creepy bastard.”

“Why?” Conor shrugs. “I wander the viewing hall on my own all the time.”

“Exactly.” I condescendingly pat his shoulder before walking from the bar with Layla.