Alexander Bryant has lived his entire life making everyone else happy. After meeting Lincoln, will he have the courage to finally do what makes him happy?
Alexander – I like to imagine myself a rebel – an ass-kicker that takes what he wants regardless of what others think. I make my own path and flip off the people who don’t agree. I laugh in the face of conflict. Nobody tells me what to do. In reality, everything about me is a lie – past, present, and future. The Bryant name requires certain things and all my decisions are based on those requirements. I like football, but the family name demands I love it. I want to be an artist, but the family name demands I be a lawyer. The family demands I fall in love with a nice girl, but I’m falling for, well, the opposite of nice AND girl. I’m a coward and a liar.
Lincoln – I like to imagine myself a loner – a cold heartless bastard that takes what he wants. I lived the biggest part of my life with parents that were ashamed of me for more reasons that one could begin to count, so I trust no one. I have a low tolerance for bullshit and hate liars. So why did I go and fall in love with the biggest liar of them all?
The phone on my desk buzzed. Picking it up, I barked, “Lincoln.” If I was being interrupted, it had to be something troublesome. Perhaps I had been basking in the glory of the club’s success and lack of outside drama a few moments too soon.
“Hey, boss. This is Tate at the entrance. I’ve got a, uh, situation, I think, sir.”
I could barely hear the man talking over the crowd standing in line to enter the club, so I instantly changed the screens until the monitors were showing me the entrance to the club. Tate was there, looking up into the camera because he knew I would be watching. “How can there be a situation, Tate? Either they have a private pass to get into The Den, or they are welcome to be a guest at Heaven.” The basement of my apartment building housed two separate clubs – The Den and Heaven. One was a BDSM, exclusive to members only, and the other was Heaven, just a normal nightspot with great music, dancing, and plenty of booze.
Tate had been given the discretion to allow some guests into The Den if they were accompanied by a member or had a membership number in their possession. All others were to be turned away. Should be simple. Things, I’d found, never really were.
“Uh…I have four members of the football team, sir. They’ve requested entrance into The Den for the evening.”
So? What did I care if they played football at the local college? I wasn’t a football fan, and to be honest, I didn’t really care for how the rest of the town handled the players with kid gloves – like they were entitled to more than the other students who were actually there to get an education. In my opinion, they were a bunch of obnoxious, over-sized, spoiled brats as best I could tell. Well, others in this town might be more than willing to bend over and take it up the ass for football, but I sure the hell wasn’t one of them. “Why are you bothering me with this bullshit, Tate?” I asked dryly. I liked Tate. I didn’t want to fire Tate. Tate was begging to be fired at the moment.
“Well, uh, sir, I’m a huge fan,” Tate mumbled, looking embarrassed and more than a little bit nervous about bothering me with this bullshit.
Yeah, he already knew he was probably going to get canned for this shit. Hell, I couldn’t fire Tate. I really did like the guy, but this would definitely have to be addressed. I didn’t have time for this shit. Playing hard ball, I said, “And this means what to me?”
I studied Tate’s face through the monitors as he struggled to come up with an appropriate answer. Deciding to leave him dangling on the hook a few more uncomfortable seconds, I allowed my eyes to wander. The big man standing next to Tate, smiling into the camera like a total ass, was definitely football material. Hell, he was probably Dom material with the right training, but I wasn’t in the mood to adopt a newbie to teach the ropes. Two more guys huddled close to the giant, flirting with someone out of the range of the camera. They were cute, but allowing these guys into my club would be like inviting trouble inside. I could see all sorts of shit turning even shittier. I opened my mouth to tell Tate to send them away when the fourth guy in their group turned in the direction of the camera.
My cock took immediate notice of the beautiful man who looked like he wanted to simply melt away into the mist of people surrounding them. I might describe the look on his face as either bored because he wasn’t interested or aggravated because he wanted to be doing something else. He was magnificently built – like a runner or swimmer with lean muscles that I would bet my entire wealth covered every inch of his body. High cheekbones and puffy lips made his face almost too pretty to belong to a boy, but he somehow managed to be gorgeous and masculine at the same time. Dirty blond hair, just long enough to give me a nice handful to help control his movements, looked completely out of control and sexier than hell. The bluest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life were framed with the longest lashes I’d ever seen in my life…and I’ve seen a lot of pretty men.
I’d like to say he looked sub-ish, a sweet ying to my yang, but he didn’t. While he might look like he wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, besides where he was, he still had the aura of arrogant cockiness hanging over his head, begging me to make him want to submit. I did love myself a challenge. Of course, challenges were always fun, but what I didn’t like to get involved with was a man unable, unwilling, or afraid to admit they were into men – been down that road and hated it. No, I don’t know if the blond beauty is gay, bisexual, or heterosexual, but I do know there’s something about him that is making my blood sing one of my favorite songs – the dominate and fuck song. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tease him just a bit, try to get a read on whether he might be interested. What could go wrong? It would either be a yes or no.
It was a mistake of epic proportions. I knew it. I just didn’t give a fuck.
I wanted him.
And when I wanted something….
“Let them in, Tate. Tell Miriam to put them at the big table in front of Stage Two.” Center stage. The only stage where I worked. I watched the screen and saw him look utterly devastated that they were being allowed inside. My fingers itch to punish him. I’m just not sure if I want to punish him for being here or for not being here with me.