Zeck

Evernight
Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2016 Khloe Wren

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-737-2

Cover
Artist: Jay
Aheer

Editor:
Karyn
White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING:
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is
illegal.
 
No part of this book may be
used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This
is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

As I
wrote this story, Paris was attacked by terrorists. Innocent people attending
the Eagles of Death Metal concert were murdered as they waited for the show to
start. I’m dedicating this book to all those families who were affected by the
horrific attacks on Friday the 13th, November 2015. #
PrayersForParis

ZECK

Scandals,
2

Khloe Wren

Copyright © 2016

Chapter One

Zeck

Loud screams echoed behind me as I followed my
band-mates down the hall to our backstage room. My blood still raced with the
rush of performing and being able to interact with our fans. I let out a whoop.
Our first show here in Paris was now over, and it had been awesome.

“Man, you crack me up every time. Never know what
you’re going to do.”

I grinned at Law and did my stupid drunk dance through
the doorway.

“What can I say? The crowd loves me!”

We all laughed and fell into chairs around the room.
Except Dillon. He bee-lined for his girl. Like a magnet, my gaze followed him
despite the fact I knew precisely what he was going to do. The way he caressed
his palm over Ashlyn’s swollen belly before leaning down to kiss her had my
stomach twisting. I wasn’t sure why. At twenty-three years old I was in my
prime. I had no desire to settle down. Too much to see and do for that. But
there was something about the intimacy, the bond they had that called to me.

“
Zeck
? Come with me for
moment.”

“Sure, Jas.”

I rose to my feet, grateful for the distraction. I was
struggling to hold onto my carefree facade in front of my friends tonight.
Jasko
, or Jas for short, was Right Time’s head of security.
He was Russian and as big as a fucking truck. His English was fortunately
fairly good, but occasionally his accent would strengthen and make it hard to
understand what he was trying to say. Knowing he wouldn’t pull me away from the
others without a good reason, I followed him intrigued over what he could want.

“What’s up, big guy?”

Jas led me to a smaller room the band wasn’t using,
before closing the door.

“You look on edge tonight. I wanted to ask you some
question.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, nervous that he’d
noticed my inner turmoil.

“I just have some excess energy to burn. We haven’t
been clowning around that much lately.”

Not only was Dillon spending all his spare time with
his new wife, but Alec was quieter and less energetic. I guessed that, like me,
watching Dillon with Ashlyn stirred up Alec’s inner desires. Law was no better,
although I hadn’t been able to work out why he was suddenly acting so serious
most of the time. On top of all that, we’d been flying all over the damn place
with this tour. Down time hadn’t happened since our brief break for Dillon and
Ashlyn’s wedding.

The big man nodded, then rubbed his jaw.

“I know you like to laugh and joke, but underneath you
are thoughtful. You observe around you, help anyone you can. You are caretaker,
yes?”

I shrugged a shoulder as embarrassment heated my
cheeks. I liked to know everyone who I cared about was happy and safe. Was that
a crime?

“I guess you could call me that. I know I’m lucky,
that I have more than I deserve so I’m happy to share it around. I didn’t think
management had an issue with it.”

While we’d been in Sydney, I’d ordered dozens of
pizzas before driving around and giving them out to the homeless I found.
Phillip, our manager, had said it was great publicity and humanized me.
Whatever the hell that meant. I just wanted to help out. Feed a few hungry
people. No big deal.

“You don’t much like management controlling you, do
you?”

“Jas, we’ve been touring all bloody year. You know all
of us are over being told what to do and where to be.”

I swallowed past a lump that had formed in my throat
when I noticed the muscle along Jas’s jaw begin to tick as if he was clenching
and unclenching it.

“When you take lover, you like to control her, yes?”

My head snapped up, and anger flashed through me.

“Where are you going with this? I don’t kiss and tell,
you know that.”

He grinned at me, a big stupid “gotcha” grin.

“Tonight we go to a special club. One I think you
like.”

I’d already been planning on heading out with the
boys. I was hoping I could pick up a
chipie
for some relief.

“All of us, or just me and you?”

“Me and you. Other boys are not like you and me.”

I had no idea what he was talking about so fell back
on humor like I always did.

“Well, so long as there’s plenty of women there, I’m a
happy man, Jas.”

“I promise there will be women.”

There was something about the glint in his eye that
made me nervous.

“Ah, okay so when are we going and what should I
wear?”

What I was wearing was damp with sweat from running
around on stage, so I’d definitely need to change.

“I have it arranged. We go to hotel now, shower and
change. Then we go.”

****

“Where are we going again? And are the leather pants
really necessary?”

As I asked Jas, I attempted once more to rearrange
myself in the confines of the rear of the car. I’d checked in the mirror before
we left and I knew they looked fucking spectacular, but damn they were
restrictive on a man when it came to sitting down. I eyed the big man sitting
beside me.
Jasko
looked completely comfortable in his
own leathers. Like me, he wore a tight fitted black tank that did nothing to
hide the massive amount of muscle the man was packing.

“Every man wears leather here. You get used to it
soon.”

The sleek town car pulled up smoothly in front of a
bland looking stone building on the outskirts of downtown Paris. Jas got out
and moved to my side of the car. With a nervous inhale, I ran my palms over my
head, making sure my hair was still neatly pulled back in the elastic tie. I
pulled off my glasses and cleaned them before resettling them in place. My skin
tingled with unease. I hated having to disguise myself every time I went out.
Tonight I’d taken it easy, with only the stupid fake glasses and my shoulder
length hair tied up. The evening was warm and I couldn’t be screwed mucking
around with a wig that was only going to make me itch and uncomfortable all
night. I hoped it was enough. The last thing I wanted was to get recognized at
whatever this place was. I didn’t feel like handling a mob of fans at the
moment. Not with my mind reeling from what Jas had said. Was I really that
transparent?

The door opened, and a rush of cold air flowed over me
as I rose from the vehicle. Out of habit, I held my breath, waiting for the
screams to start.

“Private club. No fans here. You regular tourist
here.”

I raised a brow at Jas. “Seriously? Not sure that’s
possible no matter how private the place is. But hey, I’ve got the toughest man
in the city with me, so I’m all good no matter what happens.”

Jas’s shoulders straightened, and he smirked at me. I
was pretty sure Jas knew I was just yanking his chain, but whatever. If it made
him smile, it was all good. A horrible thought crept into my mind.

“This isn’t some kind of joke is it? There
are
women in here?”

So help me if Jas had brought me to a gay club …
because if he had, he so had the wrong band member! While I have nothing
against homosexuals, I wasn’t one. And tonight I really could use some female
company. Jas didn’t answer me, but pushed open the door and ushered me through
it. Heavy bass thumped through the walls of the small reception area. Jas
strolled over to an expensive looking desk. The woman standing next to it froze
my breath. She was a timid looking thing, dressed for sex in a purple corset
and black leather mini skirt. I took a deep breath. This was definitely not a
gay club.

Jas leaned in and spoke directly into the woman’s ear,
and I smiled as the girl’s eyes widened and her gaze zoomed in on me. She
nodded at whatever Jas said, and before I knew it we were on our way down a
flight of stairs to the basement.

Ducking through a dark red curtain, I found myself in
another world. I stood still and blinked as my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit
club. My spine straightened when they focused. There were women and a few men
bound to benches and crosses, or kneeling at another’s feet.

“Jas? How’d you know this place was here?”

“How you think?”

Before he could explain more a tall, curvy woman
strolled straight up to him. I stood mesmerized as she gracefully fell to her
knees in front of the Russian.

“Evening, Sir. How may I serve you?”

A grin curved my lips as excitement buzzed through my
veins. Jas was a fucking Dom, and he’d brought me to a kink club. I wasn’t so
naive to have never heard of BDSM. After overhearing my sister wax poetic over
some book she’d read, I’d secretly borrowed it from her to see what all the
fuss was about. My curiosity was piqued, but I hadn’t taken it further. I could
just imagine what Phillip, our manager, would do if I was caught whipping some
chick. It would make Dillon knocking up Ashlyn seem droll.

I chuckled when the woman preened and purred as Jas
ran a hand over her head.

“Rise,
myshka
.”

As the woman rose, I spoke to Jas.

“What did you just call her?”

“Little mouse. Endearment in Russian.”

A soft smile formed on her face. Apparently, she liked
the name.

“Follow me.”

I had no idea if Jas was talking to me or his little
mouse, but I didn’t know what else to do so I followed him over to a couple of
low couches surrounded by large floor cushions.

“Sit,
Zeck
. Observe for
while.”

He whispered into the woman’s ear, and she trotted off
toward the bar as I sat down.

“You’ve been here before haven’t you?”

“Paris is not so far from England. Whenever in town I
come. Jane is American, so she like Dom who speak English.”

I had to laugh.

“But dude, you’re Russian!”

With a low chuckle, he shrugged.

“She like Russian accent.”

Jane returned with two beers and handed us one each.
As I took my first mouthful, she lowered to her knees again and leaned against
Jas’s leg. Jas started up with the petting thing he’d done earlier, and Jane’s
body relaxed as she sighed. Pulling my focus away from her I glanced around the
large space to see what else was going on. My attention caught on a beautiful, lush
woman wearing only a lacy blue g-string over her curvy body being tied up. Her
Dom was wrapping golden rope, which matched her hair color, around her nude
body with precise movements and tying knots faster than a Boy Scout could. Her
arms were behind her back and her large round breasts were thrust out as her
Dom framed them with the rope. I moved my pelvis trying to give my dick more
room. Damn, but that woman was hot. My mouth watered as I imagined what it
would be like to suckle on her pretty pink nipples.

“Evening, gentlemen. Welcome back, Jas. I see you
brought a guest tonight. Mind if I join you for a while?”

My mind cleared of lust, and I focused on the
newcomer. I was a little stunned at the man’s flawless English. He had only a
slight accent. He was clearly French, but at a guess he’d spent at least a
couple of years in the UK, or maybe the US.

“Of course. As we discussed, I brought
Krys
to come see if he like.”

I smiled as Jas called me by my middle name. Another
part of the disguise. The man let rip with a loud burst of laughter.

“I’ve missed your sense of humor, Jas. My club is
filled with beautiful
submissives
being pleasured by
their
Doms
. What’s not to like, my friend?”

Smirking, I relaxed into my seat, instantly liking the
club owner.

“It’s a great looking club you have. What do I call
you?”

I didn’t want to break any Dom code or anything. I
already liked the look of this place and really didn’t want to get booted out
the door.

“My name is Brian, but mostly I am called Monsieur
here. So, you think this is something you’d like to learn more about?”

“Definitely. To be honest I’d gotten interested in
BDSM a year or so ago but didn’t want to risk the publicity of looking into
it.”

Brian nodded toward me.

“That I can understand. My club here is exclusive and
private. Everything that happens beneath my roof is consensual, and there is
also a no camera rule, which includes phones. Anyone caught breaking either of
those rules is banned instantly.”