In Onyx, DC's newest fetish club, Ian Vaughan, a Dom returning to the scene, is greatly interested in the crowd favorite: Kale Daniels. After observing a tense, staged whipping, Ian takes Kale for a private session oftheir own. Can these two men form a bond that goes beyond the public sphere of Onyx?
"Can I get you something to drink, sir?"
Ian pulled his gaze away from the swelling crowd and looked at the bartender. For a moment, he mused that the young man looked just a bit too young to be in Onyx.
Without so much as a blink, the bartender reached into one of the coolers and got out a bottle of water. Ian handed him the money and took the water, twisting it open as he waved away the offered change. Then he turned his attention back to the crowd.
For a Wednesday night, Onyx was surprisingly busy. As one of DC's newest up-and-coming clubs, it was proving to live up to the dream David Torin had so many years ago. The man had a streak of pride ten miles wide, but Ian couldn't quite blame him. He'd be just as proud if Onyx had been his dream.
As it was, he was one of the original members, and definitely one of the first Doms. With Onyx catering to some of the city's finest fetish and BDSM enthusiasts, there was always a good crop of men to choose from. Women, too, if that was your thing.
"Ian! Glad you could make it tonight."
"Evening, David." Ian shook David's outstretched hand and smiled. "I'm surprised to see so many people here tonight. What's going on?"
David leaned close, as if to whisper conspiratorially. "One of the crowd favorites is back on the circuit," he said. "Name's Kale Daniels. He was in a trial contract with Mark, but they just didn't mesh well together. So, Kale's back to playing the club's favorite volunteer sub for public shows."
"Really?" Ian took a drink of water, eyes scanning the crowd for this Kale Daniels. After taking a much-needed vacation from the scene, Ian had completely missed anyone by the name of Kale Daniels, and he surely would have remembered a new sub. "Okay. I give up. Where is he?"
"Up there." David grinned and pointed to the stage just as the spotlights lit up a figure in the middle. Ian nearly dropped his water.
"Interesting." That was about as eloquent as he could get at that moment.
Kale Daniels. Barely touching five-and-a-half feet tall, with a trim but muscled build, he was strapped to a St. Andrew's cross, ass facing the rapt audience below. Spiky black hair stood up everywhere, and his golden skin was glazed with sweat that glistened under the white light. Arms trussed above his head, legs spread--God, he was beautiful.
Ian just stared. How the Hell had he missed that?