“He’ll have on a suit with a deep turquoise blue tie. Older. Like mid-forties, maybe? Looks rich as fuck. Maybe a little snobby. Fancy watch.”
My brows raise. “And how do you know what he will be wearing?”
Gritting his teeth, I notice his face is getting red with frustration. I’m pushing my limits here.
Through gritted teeth he says, “He told me if I wanted to find him again, to look for the tie.”
Jasper walks away, and I’m left wondering if this is a good idea.
It can’t hurt, right?
Chapter Two
Harmon
I walk through the front door, lifting two fingers to the bouncer who pushes open the next door to allow me inside.
“Evening, Mister Stone,” he says in a low, rumbling voice, his gaze holding mine steady.
I tip my head, and walk into the dim hallway, down the deep red carpet that’s worn from traffic. The walls are made of stone, the sconces letting off dull golden light, giving the place an almost gothic feel. The door ahead of me is made of leather, padded, with studs placed in an artistic way. This club hasn’t changed in twenty years, and I don’t expect it ever will.
Before stepping inside, I pick up the blue bracelet from the table in the corner, putting it on my left wrist. It hides under my sleeve, but I’m not the approachable type, so most stay away, anyway. Those who do come to me are welcomed. I enjoy their curious questions, and the obvious and sometimes over-the-top flirting can be entertaining. God knows I’m not getting much else from this place. I haven’t been lucky in a long time.
I come to Dark Rose enough that the staff know me and know why I’m here—what I’m looking for. They’re also aware enough to know that I’ve found it when I stop showing up for a long period of time. But they know I will always be back because it never lasts.
When I have a slave, the club isn’t needed. But it’s been a good place to frequent for years now, and so it’s my go-to when I am in need—and I have been in need for some time now.
I push through the doors, stepping into a darkened room with low, sexy music playing in the background. The bar across the room is lit up with red lights, every seat taken and the two bartenders rushing around smoothly to ensure everyone has what they need.
I go straight there, where Missy, a young bartender who has worked here for a few years, smiles at me, and asks, “Your usual?”
“Please.”
She nods and makes me my drink—whiskey neat. She swipes my card and asks if I’d like to leave my tab open. I tell her yes, then I find a dark corner to watch from while I sip my drink.
It’s the same routine every time I come here, and it’s not that it’s boring, as I do enjoy watching, I just wish there wasmore.
Dark Rose has become busier over the years, with acceptance of this lifestyle becoming more popular. Nowadays, though, most of the clientele are couples looking for a third. Which makes it more difficult for me, when that is the last thing I want. Not only do I not share, but there isn’t a single part of a relationship that interests me. Still, I have my needs. Though,I am growing tired and discouraged with this place, as I haven’t had a single prospect in close to a year. There were a few men I spoke to, but none of whom were interested.
Some of the staff that I’ve chatted with have mentioned going online, but that feels so… mechanical. I understand shopping for necessities online—stores are a nightmare—but something as personal as finding a slave? It’s not right.
I sip my drink as I scan the crowd, watching and waiting. Couples flirt with each other and others, trying to decide if they’re the right one to take home. Singles talk to other singles. Solos sit and watch. Everyone inside wears a band—it’s policy to ensure a safe environment.
Red wants to flirt.
Green wants to date.
Black wants to not be bothered.
Pink is a couple looking for another.
But blue is the only color I care about.
Blue means they’re interested in alternative lifestyles. My lifestyle. It’s the only option there is for me. The only thing I want.
They are few and far between these days, since people have learned they can have their cake and eat it too. Polycules and open relationships have become much more popular, so why settle with one person when you can have multiple? And my other issue? Most of the people wearing blue bands are women—and that is notmy taste.
I watch for a long time, my patience running thin, and I’ve already considered leaving three times. But I decide to get one more drink, and boy, am I glad I do.