Page 8 of Mastered by Them (Rose and Dagger #2)

Troy

I lean back against the bar at Salt, facing the action.

It doesn’t turn me on like it used to. Sure, there’s interesting shit going down.

Masters show off their slaves and their pets, daddies and mommies show off their little girls and boys.

Any body type, any race, any gender, any sexual orientation.

Everyone can be who they are without worrying about judgment. It’s a good feeling, a good vibe.

It all happens beneath purple, blue, and black lights.

The lights shift every few seconds, calling the viewer’s attention to another aspect, another area of the club.

Nobody can remain hidden for long, and nobody truly wants to be hidden.

It’s a club of exhibitionism, of fantasies, of power exchange.

Taking up the biggest part of the main room is a stage. At the moment, a band is playing something sultry and sexy while strippers dance to a slow beat.

“Christ, Manchester. You look bored out of your skull.” Jonah Croft joins me at the bar, a leash in his hand, his dark-haired little pet at his side. I can’t remember her name, but he’s been with her for a while.

I nod at them in greeting. “Just waiting for Layton to finish up with the bartender.”

Croft’s forehead wrinkles in concern. “You aren’t firing Jaden, are you?”

His pet looks up sharply, eyes squinched in concern. “No.”

She, like everyone else here, must be a fan of Jaden.

“ Pet .” Croft gives her a stern look.

She bows her head immediately. “I apologize, Sir.”

He touches her neck and she lifts her chin so he can put his hand over the collar. He gives her a gentle squeeze of reassurance and her eyes flutter shut in happiness.

I shouldn’t be emotional over someone else’s power exchange, but fuck me, these two are really in tune with each other. I wish I had that. But I don’t want it with just anyone—I want it with Dani.

I wonder if she would be a pet. Maybe a slave? No, I can’t see that. She’s way too much of a brat.

A little girl? My cock gives a pulse of interest.

“No, we aren’t firing Jaden.” I lean in, knowing I can trust Croft—and by extension, his pet. “Layton’s doing everything possible to keep him happy and keep him here.”

“Gotcha.” If Croft suspects this has anything to do with the criminal unrest in San Esteban, he doesn’t say so. “But doesn’t Dmitri Montrose work at Low Vice? Better make sure the Aseyevs don’t poach your bartender.”

“Low Vice doesn’t serve alcohol.” Here at Salt, we choose to trust our clients.

It’s an exclusive group, and we keep an eye on our people.

If someone wants a single drink before getting into a scene, we aren’t going to stop them.

And we have enough security in place to stop someone before they go too far.

Part of Jaden’s bartender duties include monitoring the vibe and limiting drinks if necessary. He’s extremely gifted, which is why we don’t want to lose him.

I see an opportunity to help the Laytons. I lean in closer to Croft. “And besides that, feel free to share this—the Aseyevs are our allies now.”

Croft’s eyebrows shoot high on his forehead. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“It’s a new era, I guess.”

“Shit, does this have to do with Edmund’s engagement?” Croft grins like an old gossip. “Who is he marrying?”

Edmund hears his name and looks over from his intense chat with Jaden. Croft raises a hand in greeting, which Edmund returns before he goes back to promising Jaden the moon and stars.

I nod. “He’s marrying Danica Montrose. Dmitri’s sister.”

“Wow, congrats to them both.” Jonah grins. “It is a new era.”

Finished with Jaden, Edmund saunters over. “Croft, good to see you.”

“You as well. Congrats on the engagement. Danica Montrose, huh? An Aseyev?”

“You know it.” Edmund looks puffed up with pride.

Asshole. What does he have to be proud of? He had nothing to do with this arrangement.

“So, when are you going to bring Danica around to the club?” Croft strokes his pet’s neck absently while he talks. “Celebrate in a more comfortable environment, not some stuffy engagement party. Thanks for not inviting me to that.”

“You’re welcome.” Edmund laughs. “Yeah. We should bring her around.”

Croft’s pet sneaks a glance at me when Edmund says we . I wonder if she hears the hidden meaning behind it. We . Edmund and me.

As Edmund and I head out, he turns to me with a grin. “Tomorrow night, after Abdul’s. We’ll bring Danica here.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea?—”

“She’ll love it. You’ll be here, too. We’ll have all the fun possible before the wedding.”

He walks out, whistling, not a care in the world.

Does he hear himself?

I don’t think he does.

* * *

Danica

Abdul’s is one of the stuffiest restaurants in San Esteban. I shift in my chair, hoping the hem of my slinky dress isn’t hiking up too much. I don’t want to scandalize everyone here.

Edmund faces me from across the table. “Did I already tell you that you look gorgeous tonight?”

I adjust the strap of my dress and frown. “Only about ten times.”

“Then I haven’t said it enough.”

“You’re too smooth.”

He’s gifted in the art of compliments, offering them often, praising me.

I flick a glance over at Troy. He isn’t at our table, of course.

The bodyguard could hardly be expected to sit in on a date.

He’s seated at his own table with Jon, the driver.

The two barely speak to each other. I hate this.

Troy should be sitting here, with Edmund and me.

The server arrives with our dessert—a scoop of caramel-rose ice cream to share. Edmund gestures that I should take the first bite.

The ice cream is good, but not as good as Isabelle’s.

He watches my face, gauging my reaction. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s not bad at all.”

“You’ve had better,” he guesses. “Where? At your job?”

He’s smooth and insightful. Does any detail escape his notice? It’s like I’m a school subject and he is determined to get an A-plus.

“The flavor is good, but it could be stronger. It’s like they were afraid to lean into it, so it tastes a little weak.”

His grin is infectious. “So you’re an ice cream connoisseur.”

“Hmm, not exactly. I just know what I like.” And what I don’t like . I give him a glare.

Unbothered by my dagger eyes, he asks, “What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Currently? Horchata. But it changes all the time.”

“Let’s go now.” He signals for the check.

Troy and Jon sit up, alert that we’re getting ready to go.

I laugh. “Edmund, we can’t go to Isabelle’s.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s almost eleven. The shop is closed.”

His shoulders fall. “Fine. How about going somewhere else, then? I have a good place in mind.”

“An ice cream parlor?” I could spy on Isabelle’s competition.

“Nope.” A wicked gleam shines in his green eyes.

I set down my spoon. “If it’s your pants, then the answer is a firm no.”

Troy coughs to cover a laugh, but Edmund laughs openly.

“No,” Edmund says, “it’s a club.”

“What club?” I don’t mention Low Vice, where Dmitri works, because that place is supposed to be a secret.

“It’s a club in Salding. Underground. I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Troy frown. He doesn’t want me to go to this club? Now I’m even more intrigued.

“Yeah.” I stand up. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Edmund

The live music portion of the evening has ended at Salt, replaced by a low, sensuous beat coming through hidden speakers.

I see Salt in a new way, looking at it through Danica’s eyes. Large waterfall chandeliers collect flickering purple and blue lights. Beneath them, dancers undulate in varying degrees of undress—everything from full vinyl bodysuits to skimpy thongs.

Behind the bar, Jaden takes a moment to touch up his eyeliner before washing his hands and slinging some more drinks. His mohawk and dark makeup make him look goth and edgy, but he’s got the soul of a Care Bear.

Troy and I stand on either side of Danica. I have to resist the urge to take her hand in mine and touch her engagement ring. I fucking love having this claim on her.

Troy has been more reserved lately. I get it. I can’t make it better, much as I wish I could. This is how things are going, and the sooner we all get used to it, the better.

Danica gawks at our surroundings, her eyes wide. When I pass her a glass of wine, she gulps down half before taking a breath.

And yet, she doesn’t seem quite as shocked by this place as I thought she’d be.

I keep my arm around her waist and give her hip a gentle squeeze. “Have you been here before?”

She shakes her head and leaves her half-full wine glass on the bar. “It’s incredible. I had no idea San Esteban had more than one club like this.”

So she knows about Low Vice. “Have you ever been to your brother’s club?”

“Well, it isn’t his club. But, no. It would be pretty grody to be around that stuff when my brother is there.”

“Good point.” I notice her gaze fixed on the dance floor in front of us, particularly on two men grinding against the woman dancing between them.

They’ve pulled down the front of the woman’s dress, exposing her tits.

The man in front of her buries his face in her chest while playing with her nipples. “That’s hot. What do you think?”

“It’s okay…” Danica speaks slowly, enraptured by the scene.

I grip the side of her dress, bunching the fabric in my fist.

She glances at me from the corner of her eye. “What are you doing?”

“Touching my fiancée.” I lift the dress higher. “You’ve been so good tonight, I want to give you a reward.”

“Out here?” She looks at me directly, and I see the vulnerability in her gray eyes.

Now isn’t the time to push her limits. “No. Back this way.”

Instead of taking her to the hall of alcoves, I grab her hand and lead her back behind the bar, toward the manager’s office. It’s empty right now because Shoshanna is patrolling the floor. Troy follows behind us.

I tap Jaden’s shoulder. “We’re going to borrow Shoshanna’s office. Tell her to knock.”

He gives me an understanding grin before I usher Danica into the small room.

Troy hesitates in the doorway.

I roll my eyes. “Get in here, Manchester.”

He flips me off, but steps in after Danica.

The tiny room seems extremely small with the three of us in here.

The desk is tidy, with a closed laptop and tablet resting on top of it, not a single stray piece of paper in sight.

The single chair in the room is tucked neatly under the desk.

That gives us about twenty-five square feet to work with.

I want to lick her pussy while he fucks her—or the other way around. I’m not picky.

But before I can say anything, Troy wraps his arm around Danica and lifts her to him for a kiss. She wraps her legs around his waist, which pulls up her dress and reveals that beautiful, grabbable ass.

Well, fuck, I can work with this.

I move behind her, moving aside her dress straps to kiss her bare shoulders. Her skin is salty, sweet. Our position reminds me of my fantasy in the shower the other day—the two of us standing and holding her between us. She’s probably not ready to get her ass fucked, though.

“We’re gonna make you come, angel,” I whisper.

She moans into Troy’s kiss and reaches an arm behind her, searching for me.

“I’m right here.” I hold her hand, bringing it up to one of her tits, squeezing her palm against her own chest. With my other hand, I reach between her spread-open legs. I find her cunt, nice and slippery.

“Troy,” she gasps. “Edmund.”

Troy hefts her tighter in his arms. “We’re right here, little girl.”

“Play with your tits for us,” I rasp, pressing a licking kiss against her shoulder.

“Yes,” she moans, complying.

Pleased with her obedience, I drag a finger against her pussy and stroke the smooth skin at the front of her throat.

She goes rigid.

“Coming already?” I ask. “I’ve barely touched you.”

“No—no.” She thrashes between us.

Something’s wrong. Her eyes are wild with panic and fear. These aren’t the throes of an orgasm.

I let go of her pussy and neck. “Danica. What’s happening?”

She pushes at Troy. “Can’t—can’t breathe?—”

Troy and I both let her down, exchanging a look with each other. I’ve never felt less helpless than I do right now, with Danica wheezing and struggling to breathe.