Page 21 of Dash

“Heh.” He shrugged. Apparently, the idea of caning Blue had him smiling. “I don’t know. But I need a beer.”

Blue, ever the life of the party, laid on the bar in nothing more than green lace panties, a blue garter belt, stockings, and Doc Marten boots. A lime was in her mouth, and another woman licked tequila off her stomach. A small group of people around them cheered as the women shared a kiss when it was time for the lime.

Scanning the crowd, Dash spotted Whiskey with his dark top knot and beard, and the clean-shaven blond prospect holding bags. After tapping Clark’s shoulder to get his attention, he jutted his chin in their direction. With all the eyes on them in the center of the clubhouse, Dash couldn’t make any special recognition of his club brother, Whiskey. He did give him a head nod as wrong as it felt to do for a patch, but they both understood, before he headed up to his room with his satchel of tricks in hand.

The Ohio chapter needed more numbers to get more contracts and to earn more money. Everyone liked more money. If they had more money, they wouldn’t constantly need help from the mother chapter. They could stand on their own two feet. Dash could go the hell home, where he belonged.

Tossing the bag on the bed, he unzipped it and ran his fingers over the handles of his canes with a smile. He’d been too long without them. Taking his purple acrylic one out, he waved it through the air just to hear the whiz sound.

He took his time unpacking each thing, inspecting everything to ensure nothing was damaged in the travel. Not that he didn’t trust the prospect, it was more that the prospect didn’t know what he carried. For all he knew, what was inside was clothing, so he didn’t know some things could break. The things were meant for hitting, though, so they shouldn’t break easily.

Rattan cane, several bundles of rope, clover nipple clamps, wooden paddle with holes, clear acrylic paddle, leather padded paddle, split leather thumper, wrist and ankle cuffs with quick releases, wrist and ankle cuffs with locks, metal cane, baton, violet wand, deer flogger, suede flogger, moose flogger, bull flogger, braided flogger, tazapper, red rubber ball gag still in the wrapper, and a blindfold. He stood back, impressed with his own selection. Nothing broken.

Tendrils of excitement sprouted, rooting themselves in his gut, spreading through him as he imagined how each implement would impact Blue. He could hear her cries already. He smiled, thinking how her ass would jiggle as the paddle hit her, and her foot would come up. She’d curse at him, he knew it. She was a sassy one. He liked that about her. He had half a chub already thinking about it.

Leaving the items spread out, he left the room, careful to lock the door. He didn’t think anyone would go in there to steal from him, but there had been occasions where a girl thought she’d “surprise” him by lying naked in his bed. He was surprised, but he wasn’t interested. Blue had his interest because he suspected she liked what he liked. Boring whores did nothing for him. If Blue proved to be into it, he was on board.

After a quick shower, because if he was going to play, he might as well do it right this time, he headed back down to the party. The sea of people enjoying the club’s hospitality had grown. There shouldn’t be a recruitment problem. Standing at the base of the stairs, he surveyed the space. Whiskey, a woman, Tut, and Jackal were playing pool. The Montana prospect had found a woman who seemed to be flattering him. Dash would know that shit-eating grin anywhere. Clark had a woman on his arm and a group of men speaking with him rather animatedly. That showed promise.

Blue, where was Blue?

“You know,” she cooed in his ear as her arm snaked around his shoulders. “You’re a hard man to find.”

She smelled of tequila and limes, which was to be expected. Her soft lips circled his earlobe before her teeth grazed it, and he grinned.

The feel of her warm, nearly naked body pressed against his before he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Having fun?” he asked as he dipped his chin into her neck, nipping and tasting left over salt.

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Bikers throw the best parties.”

“We do,” he agreed.

Without going deeper into the party, he’d gotten what he came for. He turned, taking her with him. His hand slid from around her waist to her wrist, leading her up the stairs and down the hall to the room he’d been assigned.

It’d been barely five minutes since he’d been there, but he’d still locked the door, so he had to unlock it. The last time she’d been to his room, he hadn’t locked it. So, he didn’t miss the perplexed look on her face when he took out the key. “Got a surprise for me in there?” she asked with a grin.

Once unlocked, the key went back in Dash’s pocket, and he smirked in response. The game had begun, and he felt himself shifting into a different headspace. He opened the door and led her into the small room with one hand on the small of her back, the other holding her wrist. He used his foot to close the door, keeping their time in that room private. As he guided her to the foot of the bed, he gauged her reaction to the display of toys he had laid out. His own excitement remained masked as he wanted to get her genuine response.

“Wow.” Awe came from her as she slid from his grasp. The scene hadn’t started. They had negotiated nothing, so he wasn’t about to hold her without consent. He’d let her take everything in before they did that. He was working off assumptions, after all.

She walked around his bed, and he got a few glances of her profile as she studied the things he’d laid out. She bent slightly, her breasts hanging. He fought the urge to reach for the clamps. They were black and would be an excellent contrast against her skin. Her fingers grazed the metal rod cane.

“This is…” She paused and stood up to turn her gaze upon him. “I don’t really know what this all is. I mean, I do know what some of this is, but at the same time, I really don’t.”

He furrowed his brows. “Are you not a submissive?”

She frowned and turned her focus at the bed. “That.” She pointed to the plastic implement with the long black handle connected to a length of red. “What is that?”

“It’s called a tazapper,” he offered as he reached for it, holding it before hitting the button and tapping it to his hand, causing a blue flick of electric shock to hit his palm with a loud snapping sound. “Pronounced tay-zapper. It gives a static shock of electricity concentrated on the point of contact.” He kept his tone calm and even as he explained before turning the toy and extending it to her. “Would you like to try it?”

Waving her hands frantically, she shook her head. “No.”

Disappointed, he nodded and put it back in its spot.

Frowning, she scanned the items. “I think you got the wrong idea.”

He had. And he clasped his hands behind his back, waiting for her to speak.

“I’m down for a spanking,” she said as she looked up at him. “That was hot as fuck, and pulling my hair.” She tugged at her own hair and gave a little growl to show she was into it. “Fuck me hard, fuck me rough. I am totally into it. Hell, I’ll even call you daddy if you want. But this.” She gestured down to the bed, and took a deep breath.

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