Slater was glad they were speaking over the phone so he didn’t have to hide his distaste. The way these people behaved disgusted him. It could never get out that the senator had a membership. It would ruin his wholesome image. Lucas knew about that now, too. “So I’ll get another chance with Lucas?”
Jeremy sounded eager. “Oh, yes. I’ll help you, if you help me. I’ll make sure it works this time. Master Barnes will be very involved in his scene. No one will notice you slipping away with your little treat.”
Jeremy had turned out to be a young man of very flexible morality. He didn’t seem to think anything of drugging a potentially difficult lover. He did, however, want reciprocity. Slater had promised to dig up dirt on one Sally Hanover. He had no intention of wasting time doing it, but he had to string the young man along. Jeremy wanted Julian Lodge all to himself, it seemed.
“Yes,” Slater promised in smooth tones. “I have a private investigator working on it even as we speak. If he can’t come up with something, I’m sure we can make something up.”
“Good. I hate that bitch. The sooner she’s gone, the happier my master will be with me.”
Slater wasn’t sure. The “master” seemed pretty pleased with the blonde the night before. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the accident Lucas was going to have this evening. After tonight, Slater could put this mess behind him and concentrate on the upcoming campaign.
A candidate in mourning was a sympathetic man. After he hung up with Jeremy, Slater began writing a powerful eulogy for one Lucas Cameron.
Chapter Fourteen
All around him, The Club’s bar was buzzing with excitement over the evening’s entertainment, but Sam found himself strangely calm.
“Does it hurt?” Lucas examined the elaborate tattoo that now covered the back of Sam’s neck.
“Nah,” Sam replied. He was lying. It had. It hurt like hell. He’d liked every minute of it, too. He was seriously considering another one. Of course, he’d have to convince Jack, but he thought putting the Barnes-Fleetwood brand on his right bicep was a cool idea.
Lucas carefully put the bandage back on and took the seat across from Sam. “It looks good.”
Sam sat back in his seat in a particularly comfortable section of the bar. He couldn’t remember a time when he felt so relaxed. Even knowing what was coming, he was quiet deep down. He wasn’t worried or afraid. He was excited, but he could wait. Jack would take care of it.
Sam stared at Lucas. He looked like a completely different man. No one who had seen him here last night would even suspect it was the same sad-sack boy who Jack had threatened to kill violently. His hair was short, and he had on jeans that fit and a plain black T-shirt. Getting that hair out of his face made him look more like Jack than before. It showed off his square jaw line and made him look harder, sharper. Sam knew he would never have Jack’s authority. Lucas just wasn’t that guy, but boy, he resembled his brother.
“New boots?” Sam asked.
Lucas held out his foot, admiring the snakeskin boots Jack had claimed were the most comfortable, durable boots he’d ever worn. “Yeah. Apparently Mr. Lodge has a bunch of people who do nothing but shop for the guests.”
Sam smiled at the thought. What Julian had was a bunch of submissives willing to do just about anything to get the master’s attention. He’d come close to being one of those slaves. Sam glanced around the bar. It was a richly decorated room, but it wasn’t a home. Julian’s penthouse was spectacular, but in Sam’s mind it was more of a museum than a real home. A real home was the ranch house with its big fireplace where he cuddled up with Abby. He would never admit it to Jack, but he’d thought about Julian’s proposal. He’d thought about becoming his slave. It had seemed like a safe thing to be. Sam had followed his heart, and he was glad he did. If he’d stayed with Julian, he would have been one of many, and Julian didn’t share. He would have been Julian’s plaything. He was Jack’s partner and Abby’s husband. It was a good place to be.
Jack walked into the bar, followed closely by Abigail. He wore tight black jeans and a black western-style shirt he hadn’t bothered to button. It showed off his cut chest and that six-pack that always made Sam drool. It had been hell seeing that body for years and years and not being able to touch it. Even now he looked away for fear that his desire would be on display.
“Sam.” Jack sat down next to him. He didn’t just sit. Jack occupied whatever space he happened to be in. “Are you ready for tonight? We start in thirty minutes. I’m going down to get set up. You two give me a couple of minutes and meet me down there. Julian and Lucas will escort you down to the dungeon.”
“I’m ready.” Sam was getting hard at the thought of Jack wielding a whip. He shifted in his seat. He’d seen it so many times before, but he’d never been the one to feel the lash in public.
Jack’s arm went around his shoulder. It was a friendly gesture, but now there was intimacy in it, as well. Sam relaxed against him. Abby was suddenly on the other side, her hand a welcome presence on his knee.
“Sam, I want to talk to you about something,” Jack said quietly. “It’s a decision I want us to make together. You know Julian has decreed thirty lashes as a punishment.”
Sam nodded, but a thought struck him. “That’s not for each of us. That’s just all together. That’s fifteen each, but I can handle more than Abby can.”
“Sam,” Abby began.
“Abby, hush,” Jack interrupted. “Sam knows exactly what I was thinking. He can handle more than you, sweetheart. It’s been a long time since I did anything like this. I practiced last night, and I’m confident it will be fine. If I wasn’t, both of you would be in my truck right now, whether you wanted to or not. Now, I say Sam takes twenty, and Abby takes ten.”
“Why can’t I just take them all?” It made sense to Sam. Abby didn’t mind a spanking, but if Jack got the whip even the slightest bit wrong, it could really hurt. Sam wouldn’t mind the experience, but he hated the thought of Abby being in pain. She wasn’t wired the way he was. “That way Abby just stays out of it.”
Abby’s pretty mouth was a stubborn line. “I don’t think that would satisfy Julian. I can take ten. How much worse is it than a spanking?”
“Well, it’s a flipping whip,” Lucas pointed out. “I don’t think it’s supposed to feel good.”
“It can be horrible.” Jack ran his hand along Abby’s arm gently. She shivered at the sensation. “Or it can be like a little whisper across your skin.”
“Screw that,” Sam said, and then wished he hadn’t said it out loud.
“I’ll be sure to note your preferences, Sam,” Jack stated with a sarcastic smile on his face. “Sam likes a pretty big bite of pain, Abby. You like a little one. If you like the whip and want to play with it at home, then we can talk about it. But I’m not putting you through that here. I’ll give you ten light ones and then move on to Sam. What I’m going to do to Sam should satisfy the crowd. While I handle Sam, Lucas is going to take care of you, Abby.”
Lucas sat up and leaned forward. “I’ve been fully instructed. I’m to hold you if you cry and rub some salve into your butt so it doesn’t sting anymore. I am not to play with your boobs.”
Jack sent his brother a stern look.
“Or anything else,” Lucas concluded with a gulp. “I can pat your back and try really hard not to get an erection.”
“That won’t happen.” Jack stood up and affectionately ran a hand through Sam’s hair. “She’ll be naked. Every man in the room will have an erection.”