By Kelly Wyre
New Amsterdam Extra Starring Clark and Lucian
After the owners’ meeting, Maxwell Clark walked down a flight of steps into the stone corridor that encircled the underground BDSM club, Break. He didn’t make it ten paces before he heard footsteps behind him. A second later, and a faint touch grazed his elbow.
“Taking the scenic route, Clark?” Lucian Gray asked, tossing his suit jacket over one narrow shoulder.
“The Jag’s parked in the back lot. Faster this way.”
“I see. Well, good that I caught you, as I have a request.”
“You usually do,” Clark said, with a smile at the mayor’s son. Lucian was always neck-deep in intrigue, and Clark liked being in the inner circle. It gave him the chance to help the other man and sometimes to protect him.
“What a foul implication,” Lucian said with mock distaste, matching Clark’s stride.
“Perhaps,” Lucian conceded, chuckling.
“But you know I’m your man. What do you need?”
“I’d like an update on a certain personage near and dear to me,” Lucian said as they rounded a corner.
Clark glanced at Lucian, surprised. He knew exactly the personage Lucian meant. There was only one individual “near and dear” to Lucian whom the man didn’t speak to directly. “Oh? Finally making your move?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Lucian replied with just enough confusion and disdain that, for a second, even Clark doubted what he knew.
“Of course you don’t,” Clark said. His tone turned serious as he asked, “Is there trouble?”
“I’m not aware of any,” Lucian said archly. They paused next to the doors opening onto a tunnel that led to ground level.
“Then you’ll have an update on Project Unrequited by mid-week.”
Lucian put a hand into the pocket of his tailored slacks and fixed pale eyes on Clark. “There are so many more suitable uses for such a talented tongue.”
“That an offer?”
“More a casual observation.”
“Like how I’ve noticed that you’ve not made anyone cry recently?”
A thin, dark brow arched to a widow’s peak. “Nor have you.”
“True,” Clark said. “But I’m not the one with the tear quotient to fill.”
Lucian made an unkind sound, but stepped closer. “You’re every inch the dominant I am.” Lucian paused, thoughtful, and Clark braced. “Though just once I’d love to see how you play when you’re not merely putting on a show.”
Suppressing irritation, Clark held Lucian’s gaze. “Now that sounds like an offer.”
“Oh, no.” Lucian shook his head, long hair swishing. “Would never want to cross swords with you. I know my role, and the desire’s just a whim.”
Not knowing if Lucian meant that they were both doms or that they worked together, Clark shrugged. Lucian was the king of double-talk. “Like how I wish you’d tell the guy how you feel?”
Lucian’s smile was bitter frost. “Enjoy your night, Maxwell.”
“You, too, Luke.” Clark watched Lucian retrace their path, and then headed home to whiskey and sleep.
Kelly Wyre enjoys reading and writing all manner of fiction, ranging from horror to romance. She used to work in advertising but is now happily chained to her writing desk and laptop. She believes she’s here to tell stories and to connect people with them. She’s written several novels, novellas, and short stories and has no plans on stopping anytime soon.
Kelly relishes the soft and cuddly and the sharp and bloody with equal amounts of enthusiasm. She’s a coffee addict, an avid movie lover, a chronic night owl, and she loves a good thunderstorm. Currently Kelly resides in the southeastern United States.
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