James, you don't know the half of it.“I run this club,” she said crisply, snapping his spine straight at the reminder of who paid his check. “If I get hurt, he will take that up with me.” The security chief held his tongue until she'd left the room, but then he grimaced, attracting a curious look from the two nearest security techs monitoring the screens. “Yeah, right,” he muttered. If something happened to the remarkable Mistress Anwyn Inara Naime, Daegan Rei would make everyone within these walls responsible. There'd be hell to pay.
James returned his attention to the Queen's Chamber.You hurt her, buddy, your personal demons will look like Disneyland characters next to what will come after you. You better hope she's right.
these walls responsible. There'd be hell to pay.
James returned his attention to the Queen's Chamber.You hurt her, buddy, your personal demons will look like Disneyland characters next to what will come after you. You better hope she's right.
2
OKAY, so maybe this time he'd really pissed someone off. They probably wanted him to stew until some stuffy club owner in a suit gave him a strong talking-to about his bad behavior. Delivered the official word that they didn't want him here again or they'd call the cops. Or hell, maybe they'd actually called the cops. Somehow he doubted this place handled its problems with official law enforcement, though.
Most of their security team looked like ex-military.
He wasn't particularly concerned by a locked door, but the fact he wanted to leave and it was locked irritated him. That irritation continued to grow. He knew he was under video surveillance, so he'd prowled about some, kicked a prissy-looking vanity stool across the floor so that it made a satisfying dent in the velvet wallpaper. Queen's Chamber. He hadn't seen a queen grace it with her presence yet.
Maybe some ladies-in-waiting. Pretentious bullshit, but he'd liked the room. That was why he'd destroyed it.
“All right,” he snapped. “I get it. You want me to leave and not come back. I don't need your lectures.
You know I have the money to cover it. Just let me the hell out of here and I'll go. Throw a bottle of Jack on the tab.”
Another long, ten-minute silence. Fuck it. He was going to take down the door. He'd had enough.
Just as he was determining which of his picks he was going to use, or if it might be just as satisfying to rip it off its fucking hinges, the locks snicked back, and the doorknob turned. When the door swung inward, he curled a lip, ready to leap and snarl at whatever inferior being came through it.
Instead, he went still.
Though he'd scoffed at their efforts, he'd recognized that the three Mistresses they'd sent had been formidable in certain ways. The first, the one who'd conducted his application interview, had been older, stout and more experienced, with a superior rack. Beautiful, full tits just begging for a man's adoration.
Then there'd been the Amazon with the martial arts moves, kind of a tall and better-cut Lara Croft.
Today's contender had had that slim, upright look of a spinster schoolteacher.