Kink Club owner, Zachary Coles would openly tell you commitment and monogamy are for fools and hedonism was the only game he subscribed too.
That was until he agreed to help out his long-time friend, Max Jenson and offer his son, Ellis a summer job...
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†† Ellis ††
Almost tripping over my feet, I came to an abrupt halt exiting Heathrow Airport.
Nah... it couldn't be?
And with heat rising in my chest and my stomach worming its way up my throat, I double blinked.
Phew. Thank fuck, it wasn't him. The air spilled out of my lungs and my heart slipped out of arrhythmia territory.
Who had I thought I'd just seen?
Jason fucking Bents.
Huffing out a breath, I looked around me. Of course he would't be here, but the man had messed with my head since... blinking away the memory, I wished it could scrubbed it from existence.
...You suck my dick.
Ugh. Was mind bleach a thing?
Still, what was more worrying every damn time I replayed those words, it got me rock hard.
Adjusting my jeans, it was pretty damn obvious what I needed to do... find myself some sweet pussy.
Holding my suitcase tightly I adjusted my backpack on my shoulder and headed towards the first cab in a long line. Twenty minutes later, I was in the backseat, looking out at the grey clouds and trying not to yawn. Any minute now, the sky was gonna open and shit all over everyone.
They had warned me about the British weather, and supposedly this was Summer?
Fucking hell.
I should have packed a few sweaters. Or should I call them jumpers?
Shaking my head at the craziness of it all, I shifted my attention back to the passing scenery. London wasn't how I pictured it, although to be fair, I'd never thought I would be here.
The cab driver asked. "Is it your first time in London, mate?" Even though it wasn't phrased as a question.
"That obvious, huh?" He didn't answer as another driver distracted him by almost taking the front end of his bonnet off when he cut in front, eliciting a rush of colourful language. It seemed no matter where you went in the world; it was full of shit drivers.
But he wasn't wrong. After I'd gotten over the shock of my dad dropping the bomb that I was working over the summer. My anger switched to curiosity, and not the sort that got you killed.
This could be a good thing?
Not the working part, obviously. I mean, who wanted to spend most of their waking hours working? Not me, that's for damn sure.
But it was where he said I'd be working.
Risk.
A club owned by one of his closest friends, Zackary Coles.
