Page 4 of The Games We Play

Taking this job to do security for Ember was purely a favor to Hudson. Most of my old squad are all recently retired and just do contract work like me; it’s a good reason to get us all together. Plus, it keeps us fresh. This is natural for us, and easy compared to what we’ve done in the past.

Ember shakes her head with a defeated smile. “Okay fine, I give up. What’s the update?”

“The protestors are getting a bit more rowdy, but the police department has sent some additional officers to help manage the crowd. There are about a hundred people lined up to come in, and we’re going to monitor the occupancy levels, letting members in as others vacate. But… well, no one is leaving. So there are a lot of people still waiting.”

Her eyes widen as she turns to look at the front entrance, like she’d be able to see the extent of the line outside.

“I’d really like it if everyone had a chance to make it in. Are we really at max?” I understand she’s concerned about the members and wants everyone here to experience opening night, but it’s just not possible.

“Everyone who reserved in advance is in. All of those people waiting in line are waitlist members who didn’t plan accordingly or couldn’t get a reserved space tonight. We can’t accommodate everyone. So, you have to get that need to make everyone happy out of your head now,” I reply, probably too crass, but it’s a fact. “It’s just not going to happen.”

She chews on the inside of her cheek, but nods.

“Okay, but let’s get as many in as possible. When someone leaves, someone else comes in. And I want all the member names for those that don’t make it in tonight, so I can reach out to them myself,” she replies, and I can’t help but internally smirk at who the serious one is now.

Ember is so unassuming and surprising. Her petite framesurrounded by a mountain of red hair appears so innocent until she talks about the club. Afterburn is Ember’s baby, and it’s clear in the way she talks about it.

“You got it,” I reply, because there’s no fighting back with her on that.

“Thanks, Seamus. Now, lighten up, grumpy pants.” She takes a few steps back, using her fingers to make a fake smile with her lips before turning around back to the bar. Remaining stone faced, I head the other direction to make my rounds through the voyeur rooms and private sections.

The voyeur room is packed. People are crowded close to each other as they peer through the floor to ceiling glass window, observing a couple inside the room.

I hear the distinct sound of a wretched, moaning man before I can see anything.

Curious, I crane my head through the crowd of people. Fortunately, I’m taller than most of the people here.

The bed is empty with only ruffled silk sheets splayed over the side. Following the line of sight of the other spectators, I see a woman with her back fully splayed up against the corner of the glass. She’s kneeling in front of a man whose palms are planted against the viewing window, caging her in with his body. His anguished face is up close and personal to everyone watching. He’s looking down at her as his cock pushes in and out of her mouth, driving himself deep down her throat, groaning with immense pleasure after every thrust.

It’s clear by the short breaths and blushed faces of those surrounding me that everyone in this room is thoroughly enjoying this show.

There are two other women kneeling on this side of the glass, mirroring the woman’s position on the other side. It’s like they want to join, and are egging him on even more. They are both touching themselves, each other, and the glass barrier. The mixof moans fill the room, not only between all of them, but with all the other people watching, too. It’s a symphony of sounds that’s broadcasting through the open space like its very own theme song.

I step toward the back of the room, and now, I can only hear the couple on the other side of the window. The rooms are equipped with microphones connected to speakers into each viewing room. Anyone performing has an option to turn them on or off, and right now, all three rooms have them on.

When standing in one room, you really get the surround sound of just that room, but I have impeccable hearing, so I catch on to the light murmuring and echoes from the others.

As I step over to the next room, this one has just as many spectators. This time, there are two couples behind the window. This foursome is using the over-sized bed placed in the middle of the room, and I can see the faces of the two women. The blonde one sits on the edge of the bed with a man’s face between her legs. Her entire body is bouncing, synchronized with the pounding the woman next to her is getting.

The blonde cups her hands around her man’s cheeks, pulling him to her face. She kisses him deeply before bringing her lips to his ear, whispering so the microphones don’t catch her words.

So I hone in on what she is saying by reading her lips.

One of my most useful traits.

Are you ready to fuck him now, baby?

The man's eyes trail over to the man next to him. His eyes are hooded, jaw slacked, as the woman wraps her hand in between his legs and strokes his cock.

His forehead dips to her shoulder and he nods, almost ashamed of his silent confession.

Releasing his cock she interlaces his hand in hers, then reaches over, caressing the back of the other man still pumping in and out of the woman who is laying on the bed. Slowly, shetrails their locked hands down to the globes of his ass as the muscles flex with each thrust.

In between thrusts, the man glances over at the couple and smiles, then grabs the man's forearm, pulling his body behind him.

The crowd is silent as they watch, everyone engrossed in them.

I spot one of my undercover guys in the crowd. He’s blending in well—maybe too well. He’s also entranced with the couple in the room, shifting back and forth on his feet, like he’s feeling a bit antsy.

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