Page 26 of Blake

Savannah’s eyes ran over the Daddy Doms in dark suits, the Littles in brightly-colored outfits, some in full onesies, and others in more revealing but still cute attire. “So, wait, are you brothers Daddy Doms too?”

Blake nodded. “Yep, Jax and Nash both got into the lifestyle after I did. I took them to a club downtown and they got hooked, like me.”

“What’s in the back rooms?” she asked, staring at the black doors.

Blake smiled. “One of the rooms is for private BDSM scenes. One is a playroom for the Littles.”

“And the other . . .?” she asked.

He grinned. “That’s a secret, babygirl. You and me are sticking to the bar today, so I guess you’ll never find out.”

She pouted. “Huh! Not fair. Don’t forget I’m an investigative journalist, so secrets are rarely stay secret around me for long.”

He chuckled. “Guess I’m in trouble, then, huh?”

She was about to say something in return when Jax's voice cut through the haze, accompanied by a grin that stretched from ear to ear. "Blake! You’re early for once in your life!"

Blake and Savannah headed over to see him. “Thought we’d arrive early to give Savannah time to acclimate.”

Jax nodded. “The Haven takes a bit of getting used to.”

Savannah looked like she was blushing. “You forget I’ve been in the Lucifer Club,” she said. “I can take all kinds of weird.”

“Hmm, that place isn’t weird. It’s scary,” Jax replied. “The more I’ve been reading up on it today, the worse it gets. Drug deals, prostitution, three attempted murders, all kinds of cover-ups.”

Savannah shivered.

"Where's Nash?" Blake asked.

Jax nodded toward a dark booth in the corner, where Nash sat brooding, nursing a glass of amber liquid.

"Over there, being all grumpy," Jax quipped, rolling his eyes. "Come on, let's join him."

As they approached the booth, Nash glanced up, his sharp green eyes studying Savannah before looking back at Blake. "So, this is the famous investigative journalist," he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What do you think, bro? Can you really trust her? Or do you just want to get in her pants?”

"Knock it off, Nash," Blake growled, irritation flaring in his chest. "Savannah's here because she has valuable information and connections. She's one of us now."

"Fine," Nash muttered, taking another long sip of his drink. "If you trust her, I trust her. As long as we remember what we're here for. We need to stay focused on the mission."

"Right," Blake agreed, his gaze flicking between Savannah and Nash, determined to keep both his desire and his brother's attitude in check. “Sorry about that,” he said in Savannah’s ear. “Nash has been having a hard time lately. He’s a pussycat deep down.”

Savannah nodded warily. "Blake," she whispered, leaning closer to him, "can we get some time to ourselves? The meeting’s not for another hour."

His jaw clenched, torn between maintaining professionalism and wanting to indulge her curiosity. "Savannah, our priority is preparing for this meeting. We need to stay focused."

"I know," she replied, her voice soft and imploring. "But we spent all afternoon getting ready. I know this stuff inside out. Please?"

"Fine," Blake sighed, his resolve crumbling under the weight of her pleading gaze. "But remember, we're here for a reason."

"Thank you!" Savannah beamed, her excitement contagious. As they walked toward the BDSM rooms, Blake looked back at his brothers.

"Blake, don’t lose sight of the bigger picture, bro," Nash warned, eyeing them both critically.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," Blake snapped, irritability creeping into his tone. "I won’t."

"Good," Nash replied tersely, giving Savannah a pointed look before returning to his drink.

As they entered the first room, Savannah gazed around, her eyes wide with wonder at the sight of the various implements adorning the walls—whips, floggers, and restraints. She walked over to a St. Andrew's Cross, running her fingers over the smooth wood.

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