Lucien gripped the steering wheel as he navigated the city streets. His all-electric Porsche Taycan Turbo effortlessly glided through traffic with both efficiency and performance—two qualities he highly valued in more than just his car. Lucien had finished the schematic design for the new tea shop, closed up the office till Monday, and was now en route to the club.

He pulled into the private parking garage belonging to Red Obsidian members. The time on the display read 9:12 p.m. as Lucien pulled up to the entrance. He was early, but he figured he could unwind with a drink beforehand. And he hadn’t seen Gabe or Danny in a while. If they weren’t busy, he could catch up with them.

Lucien exited his car, and the valet came forward. He handed the keys over and thanked her for taking care of his car. The security guard stood at the door, and Lucien held his hand out to the man.

“Mr. Calloway, it’s been a while,” the guard said, taking Lucien’s hand in a firm grasp.

“Yes, it has,” Lucien replied. “How have you been, Beau? How did Christy do with her audition?”

Beau sent Lucien a proud smile. “She got in. You’re looking at the father of the world’s next top violinist.”

“I don’t doubt it. Don’t forget to send me an invite to her first recital.”

“You got it, sir,” Beau said, opening the door for Lucien. “Have a good night.”

Lucien thanked Beau and returned the sentiment before heading inside. Red Obsidian’s private entrance opened into a lobby area, where the signature dark red and black decor greeted members. There was an elevator and a door leading to a stairwell. The only direction for Red Obsidian was down, and Lucien pressed the elevator button. He could already hear and feel the thumping music, and as the elevator descended, Lucien felt welcomed back.

Two levels down was Red Obsidian’s main floor. A gorgeous chandelier hung above the lobby, and the red and black doors of the club’s main room faced the elevator as it opened. Above those doors, printed in bold white to stand out, were the words Safe, Sane, and Consensual—the motto of the BDSM community.

Doms and subs walked by in a unique assortment of dress and accessories. Leather, straps, and mesh, but also suits and cocktail dresses. Some were collared. Others held leashes. No two members were alike. Lucien liked the open individualism of the BDSM community, representing a vast spectrum of desires and preferences. You could be entirely yourself—and still belong.

The bouncers at the doors checked IDs and let in the kinksters for their night of fun and pleasure, and no judgments. Lucien pulled off his beige wool and cashmere coat and handed it to the staff at the coat check. Then he turned down the hall and headed for the male dom’s changing room.

There were several other doms getting ready, and Lucien went to his locker. He took off his dark gray suit jacket and hung it inside. A white wristband was perched on the little shelf. He reached for it, unsure if he wanted to put it on or not. The white band meant he was off-limits while at the club. He and Jax wore them whenever they visited together.

“Lucien, haven’t seen you around for a while.”

Lucien turned as one of the doms waved at him. “Hi, Roger. How have you been?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Work’s been good,” Roger replied, then noticed the white wristband in Lucien’s hand. “How’s Jax?”

“I imagine he’s doing well. We decided to dissolve our contract.”

Roger scratched the back of his head, looking awkward and unsure of what to say. “Sorry to hear that.”

Lucien smiled and helped him out. “It happened a while ago, and it was time. I’m ready to be back.”

“Well, it’s good to see you again. And there are several new subs around, if you’re looking.”

Lucien chuckled, and they both continued getting ready. Red Obsidian’s dress code prohibited casual clothes, such as sweat pants and T-shirts, but aside from that, members were encouraged to wear whatever made them feel sexy. Lucien sometimes brought out the leather pants and opted to go shirtless, showing off his lean and muscled torso. But tonight, he simply removed his tie, undid a few top buttons on his black shirt, and rolled up the sleeves to his elbow.

Roger waved and left first as Lucien considered the white wristband. “If I’m looking…” he muttered to himself. He placed the wristband back inside the locker and shut the door. Maybe he really was ready.

Lucien stopped at the floor-length mirrors to give himself a once-over. He pushed a few strands of his dirty blond hair back into place but otherwise thought he looked pretty good. He had hazel eyes beneath thick, well-shaped eyebrows, and he kept clean-shaven, showing off his chiseled cheekbones and sharp jawline. His clothes were all custom-tailored, highlighting his tall and fit physique—strong legs, tapered waist, and broad shoulders. And he worked hard for that body, waking up early every morning for his regimented gym routine. After a single nod to himself in the mirror, he left the changing room.

The VIP lounge could be accessed through the main club room or its own entrance from a hallway off the lobby. When Lucien and Jax had come together, they’d typically stayed in the VIP lounge, which was Jax’s preference. Lucien liked both. For a quieter time, the lounge was great for socializing and conversation. But sometimes, the energy of the main room called to Lucien. There was music and dancing, and inhibitions fell away by the pull of it all.

On his way to the lounge, Lucien decided to walk through the main room. The bouncer checked his ID, nodded, and let Lucien inside. The music penetrated his chest, invigorating Lucien to move with the beats. Lights flashed over the dance floor, where people writhed together in a sea of bodies. Lucien couldn’t resist joining them. It had been too long.

It was one of the things that had never meshed between Jax and him. And it turned out to be more than just the dancing. Jax didn’t want to be seen as part of “the masses”—his term for those outside his socioeconomic circle. To put it frankly, Jax was elitist. He’d masked it from Lucien, rather well, but in the end, Lucien had finally caught on. There were several reasons why they weren’t good together, but at the heart of it, Lucien couldn’t be with someone who thought they were inherently better than others.

Lucien danced until he was breathless, his hair sweat-dampened and disheveled now, but it must have been a good look for him as he caught the eyes of several subs. Lucien eyed some of them right back, and it was exhilarating.

The urge to stay almost outweighed his obligation to Jax, but he needed to have that conversation—to reiterate that it was truly over between them. Lucien left one of the subs who’d been brave enough to approach him for a dance. The sub looked disappointed, a cute pout on his full lips. And Lucien thought maybe he would return later that night.

He made his way over to the door where another bouncer stood guard. After the ID check, Lucien went through. There was a short hallway with bathrooms, and then Lucien opened another door and entered the VIP lounge.

It was much quieter, as only a small fraction of Red Obsidian’s members were also VIPs. There were no strobing lights, dance floor, or DJ. Seating took up most of the space—armchairs, sofas, chaise lounges, and a few booths, all black leather, red velvet, or damask. On the opposite wall of the door was a beautiful, hand-carved ebony wood bar. When Lucien helped Gabriel design the club’s interior, he commissioned that bar, having a vision of diamond patterns and black roses. It came out perfectly, a showpiece of seductive elegance—precisely what he and Gabriel wanted to achieve with Red Obsidian.

Gabriel was there, standing behind the bar and speaking with the bartender. When Gabe spotted Lucien, he grinned. He and Lucien had known each other since their university days, when they were both new to the BDSM community, training as doms. Not wanting to interrupt him with his employee, Lucien tipped his chin up in greeting, then went to find a place to sit and wait for Gabe.

But before Lucien made it to the nearby armchair, the bartender turned and looked at him. What began as a curious passing glance changed almost instantly into eyes locked and held. Lucien was mesmerized, and he looked his fill of the man he’d never seen before. Behind wire-framed glasses and nearly hidden by waves of dark hair were eyes so brightly gray they could have been called silver. He was on the shorter side and slim, with fine cheekbones that looked utterly caressable and skin a shade of light brown. He was gorgeous.

Gabe cleared his throat, ending the moment far too soon, and the man snapped his attention away from Lucien. He hurriedly turned back around and looked down in a bearing of pure and natural submission. Not all of Red Obsidian’s employees were a part of the BDSM community themselves, but most were. Still, even if the employee was a sub, Gabe did not expect them to assume that role while working. For this man, his response seemed entirely reflexive.

Lucien wanted to meet him.