Decadent Master. Tawny Taylor

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СКАЧАТЬ that I should have to explain any of this to you. Either you’ll agree to run the place, at least until I find someone to take over permanently, or you won’t. What’ll it be?”

      “Are you saying this gig is temporary?” He was a fool. “How long do you think it’ll take you to find someone else?” A complete and utter idiot.

      “Can’t say. Hiring your replacement isn’t high on my priority list.” His brother snatched up a piece of paper and stared down at it for a few beats before glancing up. “I’m not going to lie to try to convince you to help me out.” Dierk just about laughed in his brother’s face at that one. “I’ve hired several general managers outside of the family, and they’ve all been disasters. This has to stay in the family, and every other Sorenson male, even Rolf, has turned down the position.”

      “The place is that bad?”

      “No, it’s no better or worse than any other bondage club you’ve been to.” Shadow went back to reading the paper he was holding.

      What would he do now? Dierk knew he was being lured into a trap, but damn if he knew what kind of trap it was. None of what his brother was saying made any sense. And this was the last thing he wanted, to be chained to a failing bondage club for the next year or more.

      He stood, walked to an overloaded shelf, and ran an index finger down the spine of a dusty old book. He pulled the volume off and flipped the pages. “Then why’d all of our brothers turn it down? Every one of us is a Dom. We all practice the lifestyle, in one form or another. It’s in our blood.”

      “Yeah, I know.” Shadow snatched up a pen and started scrawling in his jerky handwriting on the page now lying flat on his desk. “But it seems the others might like to hang out at Twilight in their free time. They don’t want to make it a career.”

      Dierk dropped the book on Shadow’s desk. It landed with a dull thud. He planted his hands on the glossy top and leaned forward, glaring. “That’s the shittiest nonexplanation I’ve ever heard.”

      Shadow shrugged. “You’ve always been a straight shooter, little brother. I knew that wouldn’t change, even when you’re talking to your king….”

      That was true. His mouth might’ve gotten him in trouble a time or two, but at least no one could ever say that he was a bullshitter.

      “…and the brother who has helped you out of a scrape or two before,” Shadow added.

      Shit. Dierk straightened up. His brother was going to play that card. “I’ll give you a month.”

      “Twelve.”

      “Six, and that’s my final offer.”

      “Done.” Shadow thrust his hand out, reaching across his desk. “You can start tomorrow night. Rolf will show you around.”

      Dierk shook his brother’s hand, knowing without a doubt that he’d just taken the bait. What kind of hell had he just walked into?

      Shadow released his hand. “I hope you’ll consider living here, with us.”

      He smiled as he took in the shelves weighed down with books, the furniture and artwork, the huge wall of windows stretching the entire length of the room. At the moment, the drapes were pulled back, revealing the lush landscaping outside. Silver moonlight shimmered in the raindrops clinging to the leaves of the lilac bushes, now in full bloom, giving the whole place an ethereal otherworldly glow. It was damn…pretty. “No, I don’t think I’d fit in here. This place is too cheery for my taste. I’ll find a cozy little hovel closer to work, if that’s okay with you.” At his brother’s assent, he left the library, in search of Rolf. It was still early. He didn’t have to be anywhere until tomorrow night. It was time to let loose and release some tension.

      There was plenty of trouble he could get himself into in the next twenty hours. He was determined to make sure some of that trouble involved alcohol and a lush woman who was willing to sate his needs. It had been too long, at least forty-eight hours, since he’d heard a sub beg for mercy.

      It sucked, being a man of honor. The last thing in the world he wanted, or needed, was a regular full-time job. But thanks to his inability to deny his brother any favor he asked, that was exactly what he’d just gotten. Worse yet, he had no doubt there was more to this gig than his brother was letting on.

      “Take me somewhere where the bourbon runs like a river and the women are easy,” he said by way of a greeting when he found Rolf in the living room, sprawled across a couch, watching a football game.

      Rolf twisted his upper body, glancing over his shoulder at him. “I have the perfect spot in mind. Want to freshen up or anything first?”

      “No. I’m as fresh as I’m going to get. Let’s go.” He tipped his head toward the front foyer, then, not waiting for Rolf, he turned and headed that way. It had been a helluva long flight from Amsterdam. He needed to unwind.

      “Hey, where’re you going?” Stefan asked, coming down the circular front stairs. Wearing his usual, neatly pressed black pants and shirt, he was looking a little overdressed for the kind of bar Dierk favored.

      “Just heading out for a drink or two,” Rolf answered from behind Dierk. “Wanna come?”

      “Yeah. It’s been a while since I let loose.”

      “Just don’t embarrass me, you two,” Dierk tossed over his shoulder as he pulled open the front door. “If one of you sings karaoke, I’m outta there.”

      “Damn,” Stefan cussed, laughter in his voice. “Bailey’s is having their grand championship contest tonight. I can do a mean Barry Manilow.”

      “Oh yeah, ‘Copacabana’ is one of my favorites,” Rolf said, nodding his head. “Although I’d rather go for ‘Every Breath You Take’ by the Police. I’ve been told I have a gritty voice, like Sting.”

      Laughing, Dierk headed outside, shuddering not because it was cold, but because of the horror of imagining Rolf belting out a Police tune. The man was tone deaf. “No, no, no. I’m not listening to a bunch of wannabes bellow eighties tunes. Not a chance.”

      He shared an easy camaraderie with his brothers as he rode shotgun in Rolf’s car. They avoided talking about the worst of the events of the past year: the destruction of their childhood home in Eastern Europe and the shocking and devastating loss of their only sister, Tyra.

      Instead, Rolf and Stefan took turns telling him war stories of the women they’d conquered and the ones that had gotten away. And, for just a split second or two, Dierk almost regretted missing some of those nights.

      Some twenty minutes later, they pulled into a parking lot snugged against the side of a red brick building. A flickering neon sign announced BOB’S BAR. A line of Harleys hugged the side of the building.

      Felt like home.

      The building’s dark interior was thick with cigarette smoke, the music loud, the women hot, ready…and willing. A pair of leggy blondes with full lips, tits that made his cock hard, and asses that begged to be spanked gave him a once-over.

      Yep, he was home.

      He eased himself onto a barstool, ordered a double, and invited the blondes to join him with a nod of the head.

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