Page 6 of A Little Christmas: Rivi
They both nodded and smiled, then turned to pile their things on the check-out stand. They were unabashed at their leather gear and boxes of plugs, lube and whips.
“Um.” I gulped. “Can I ask one more question?”
“Sure.”
“Is the owner, Mr. Winterbourne… um… well, is his first name Trent?”
“Sure. So you’ve heard of him?”
My blood ran hot. My skin prickled. Seriously? Uncle Trent owned a kink club and had private parties at his country estate?
“Yeah. I have heard of him.” I hoped my voice didn’t shake when I replied. I didn’t want to say more. What if Uncle Trent didn’t want people knowing who his family might be?
I’d been to Uncle Trent’s estate only once when I was around twelve. I never would have guessed he was a kinky guy. He’d hidden it well. But now… this new information made me feel both giddy and shocked.
“He keeps to himself,” the tall guy said. “But if you get around, you hear that name. And especially if you’re a loyal Club 99-er.” His brows narrowed as he scrutinized me. “Where’d you hear it?”
“I—I—um….” I shrugged, trying to buy time.
Meanwhile, the cashier was already ringing them up.
“Well?” the guy prompted.
I quickly said the first answer that came into my mind. “A friend, I think. I was just curious.”
“A friend, eh?”
I nodded, digging my hands into my thick fuzzy coat which was in the front basket of my cart.
“I almost thought you were going to say you know the guy.”
“Who? Me?” I squeaked.
He kept frowning. Finally, the divots between his eyebrows disappeared and he smiled. “The kink circles cross andinterconnect at the oddest places and moments. That’s all I meant.”
I took in a shaky breath. “Right. Yes. I think they do.”
“We’re family.”
For a second, I thought he was onto me. Uncle Trent was my family. Then I realized he meant the kink family. Of course, that would be a like-minded fellowship for many. Friendship and brotherhood born of discreetness and secrecy.
“That’s cool,” I said softly. “I’m only just realizing that.”
“Most are decent people in the clubs. Vetted well.”
“Yeah.” My heart started to relax. “Maybe I will check it out sometime. Maybe for the Christmas party. Santa looks fun.”
“He’s a lot of fun,” the other guy said, sticking his head around the shoulder of his friend. “Maybe we’ll see you around.”
“Yes, maybe.” I smiled while knowing full well I wasn’t going to any club. Not alone, anyway.
I thought they might ask my name. I thought they might give me theirs. But they left me alone as they paid and walked away without a backward glance. I was glad. Maybe there was some etiquette in not asking private questions in public even in a kink store.
I put my items up on the check-out stand and the cashier rang me up. A little smile played about his lips, but he never said a word except my total and, “Have a nice day.”
I took my plain black bags in hand and left.
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