One True Thing (16 page)

hadn’t already decided it wasn’t my sort of place, I

would have then. There wasn’t anything too

extreme, not that I immediately saw, anyway. Men

in leather—harnesses, pants, chaps, vests, shorts—

mingled with men dressed more casually in jeans

and T-shirts. The men on the dance floor and

surrounding the bar were a broad mix, everything

from burly older guys with thick pelts of chest hair

to the waxed, body-by-gym types and the Average

Joes. Looking around, I thought I was probably the

smallest one there, both in height and build. More

than a few of the guys were checking me out, eyes

roving over me like I was a juicy little lamb chop

they’d been waiting all day to devour.

I clung tighter to Archer’s arm as he led us to

a small two-top table. “Want a drink?” he asked.

I hesitated. An appletini would have usually

been my choice, but the very idea of the looks I

might get if I ordered one in this crowd had me

shuddering a little. If the bartender would even

make one. “Um… rum and Coke? Maybe with, uh,

a twist of lime or something.”

Archer’s lips twitched. “Coming right up.”

He was gone for an excessively long time, or

maybe it just seemed that way because of the looks

I kept getting. Sweat broke out on my forehead

after a few minutes, and it had nothing to do with

the temperature in the place.

A huge guy decked out entirely in leather,

with tree trunk arms and pecs that seemed to strain

the vest he wore, had been staring at me nonstop

since Archer had wandered off. He watched me

with an intensity that unnerved me, because I was

sure that behind those icy blue eyes, he was

probably playing out some mental scene that

included me either bent over or down on my knees.

But that actually wasn’t the most unsettling thing.

The thing that had me
really
disturbed was the fact

that there was another guy kneeling at his feet. He

was dressed in leather from head to toe, and I

mean that literally—he had a mask over his face

that zipped at the mouth, a studded leather collar

around his neck which attached to the leash the

other guy was holding, and a full leather bodysuit

that covered every inch of his skin, save for his

hands.

He’d
been staring at me too. Or at least I

thought so. With the mask, it was sort of hard to

tell.

When Archer finally came back, I accepted

the glass he offered and drained half the contents in

one long gulp. I cringed a little as it went down—I

wasn’t used to drinking rum—but if we were going

to stay in this place for a while, I definitely needed

some liquid courage to get me through.

Archer finished off his own drink and licked

his lips. He didn’t seem to notice the guy who was

still staring my way. “Come on, let’s dance.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me off my

seat and onto the crowded dance floor. The music

was different from the usual club fare. Instead of

the dance mixes I was used to, it was mainly metal

with growled-out lyrics and heavy bass lines. Not

my favorite, but I went with it anyway. Archer got

a little handsy as the songs went on, and I went

with that too. I didn’t have the excuse of being

tipsy this time; I just hoped it would keep any other

interested parties away.

Of course, Archer didn’t know that.

Eventually his groping turned into more than I was

comfortable with—especially when he tugged me

into a darkened hallway that might have led to the

restrooms, but judging by the grunts and sounds of

slapping flesh, the people there were more

interested in other activities.

I shook my head and tried to pull back. “No.

Let’s go get another drink.”

Archer looked at me for a long moment, eyes

narrowed. “You really are a tease, aren’t you?”

I swallowed thickly and shook my head again.

“No. I’m not. This just isn’t my scene, okay? I’m

not a backroom sex kind of guy. I like beds and

sheets and, you know, privacy.”

Archer rolled his eyes and heaved a loud

sigh. “Fine, let’s go back and have another stupid

drink. Maybe then you’ll get over this prude shit

and fuck me already.”

I didn’t even know how to respond to that. I

wasn’t willing to have sex with him in public, and

that made me a prude? I couldn’t believe he would

say something like that to me. My stomach churned

unpleasantly as I followed him back to our table.

Once I was sitting down, he turned and vanished

into the crowd, presumably to go get our drinks.

Oh, God. Why am I here? Why did I agree to

come here? All he wants is sex.
It was, I realized,

all he’d ever wanted. And I should’ve known that

from the way he’d acted on our other dates.

Instead, I’d let loneliness and foolish hopes get the

better of my good judgment.
Never again.

Part of me wanted to leave right then, right

that very second, but he’d driven me to the club,

and I didn’t have a clue what neighborhood we

were in. When he came back, I’d finish my drink

and then I’d ask him to take me home. He couldn’t

refuse. No one could be that much of a jerk.

I waited for fifteen minutes… twenty-five…

forty. Finally, it became clear that Archer had no

intention of returning to our table, or to me.

I stood and went to search for him, mentally

berating myself the entire time. How mortifying

was it, being ditched in the middle of a date?

Beyond

mortifying.
Miles
beyond. It hadn’t

happened to me before, and hopefully never would

again. I didn’t think I could stand to go through that

kind of embarrassment more than once.

Well, I didn’t care where Archer was, or

what he was doing, or whether or not he was ready

to leave. He
owed
me. He’d brought me to

Manacle. He’d abandoned me when he realized I

wouldn’t be giving him any. The very
least
he

could do was make sure I got back home. After that

he could go trolling the streets until dawn for all

that it mattered to me.

It took me a while, but I eventually found him.

The embarrassment I’d been feeling tripled when I

did. He was in the restroom, eyes closed,

apparently not even thinking about me anymore.

The guy who’d been staring at me earlier was

standing next to him with a hand under Archer’s

shirt, up near one of Archer’s nipples. The guy’s

slave, or pet, or whatever the hell, was kneeling at

Archer’s feet, his lips wrapped around Archer’s

cock, sucking greedily. He hadn’t even taken the

mask off.

I gaped for a moment, so stunned I couldn’t

even find it in me to speak. There was no jealousy.

No pain. Just pure, face-burning, skin-crawling

humiliation. Not only ditched on a date, but for a

blowjob from some random, leashed stranger in a

grimy bathroom that reeked of stagnant urine and a

few other things that didn’t bear thinking about. It

was the inappropriately perfect culmination to my

nightmare of an evening.

I knew this sort of stuff went on, of course,

and typically I wasn’t one to judge someone else’s

lifestyle choices. Lord knew there were plenty of

people who questioned mine, and I hated that. But

the situation was so far beyond what I was used to,

I wasn’t sure anything could have prevented my

initial reaction—resounding shock, followed by a

heaping bucketful of disgust. That feeling was

directed not toward creepy Mr. Leather or his pet,

but entirely at Archer, whose behavior couldn’t be

attributed to anything but sheer self-absorption.

I turned around and walked out of that

bathroom, out of that club, out into the relative

quiet of the warm early-September night. I’d heard

that during the winter months the temperature could

dip below forty once the sun set, but right then my

jeans and light T-shirt were more than enough

protection as I started to wander away from

Manacle and into the industrial area surrounding it.

I knew I shouldn’t go far, but I needed a bit of

distance before I even attempted to figure out how

I was going to get home.

I could call Rue. My watch said it was only a

little after midnight—not
too
late, all things

considered—but I hesitated to drag him out of bed

and into my mess. I could also dial information and

have them send me a cab. As expensive as that

might be, it was probably the smartest option, and

it didn’t involve making my best friend come to a

questionable area in the middle of the night.

I pulled my cell from my pocket and touched

the screen, fully intending to call a cab, but instead

my fingers seemed to move of their own accord. I

watched with a strange disconnect as my contacts

opened and Asher’s name appeared, second on the

list after his brother’s.

I’d only managed to last three days with

Asher’s card burning a hole in my pocket before I

programmed his number into my contacts. There

had been nearly a dozen moments in the time since

when I’d sat there, phone in hand, thumb hovering

over his name, daring myself to press down. I

hadn’t been able to bring myself to do it, no matter

how much I’d been tempted. But right then, without

my brain making any sort of conscious decision, I

tapped his name.

For a few seconds, I just stared at the screen,

unable to believe what I had done, watching

blankly as the call timer kicked in and the line

started ringing. He answered on the third ring,

voice sounding small and tinny since I was still

holding the phone at chest level.

“Hello?” he repeated. “Is someone there?”

I jerked the phone up to my ear and forced

myself to speak around the massive lump in my

throat. “A-Asher?”

“Yeah. This is. And you are?”

I licked my suddenly dry lips, hesitating.

What would he think of me calling him so late at

night? I couldn’t explain why I had, not even to

myself, and I didn’t want to come off as crazy. The

only thing I knew was that his voice had soothed

me, loosened something in my chest and let me

breathe again. I didn’t want him to hang up, but I

couldn’t seem to make my tongue work.

“Is this,” he started, then paused abruptly. “Is

this Dusty?”

I nodded and clutched tighter at my phone, my

pulse racing. “Yes.”

There was a moment of silence, broken only

by the unsteady sound of his breathing. “Aren’t you

with Archer?” he asked eventually. “Did

something happen?”

“I… I was with him, yeah, but I… I’m not

anymore.”

“Where are you?”

“Down the block from Manacle. He’s still

inside. I don’t know when he’s coming out, and I…

I need someone to take me home. I hate to ask, but

do you think you could—?”

“Yeah,” he interrupted. “I’m on my way right

now. Just… please go wait inside. I’ll text you

when I get there. That’s not the best area to be out

alone.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have to ask me twice. I’d

endure that club all night long if it meant he’d

come get me.

“Wait for me.”

I opened my mouth to respond, to tell him I

had no intention of leaving Manacle with anyone

but him, but the phone beeped twice in my ear,

signaling that the call had already been

disconnected.

I tucked it back into my pocket and went back

to Manacle to wait.

Almost half an hour later, my phone buzzed. I

checked the message, which read only “outside.”

That was all I needed to know. I exited the club

once again, past the sneering bouncer who’d

watched me come and go with that same mocking

expression on his face. I hadn’t so much as caught

a glimpse of Archer since that scene in the

bathroom, and I honestly didn’t mind.

There was a blue Volkswagen station wagon

idling at the curb in front of the club. I walked over

to it, fighting back a sigh of relief when I saw

Asher sitting behind the wheel. I slid into the cool