She rolled her eyes. “I gave you the itinerary. You should have known where we were every day.”
“Oh, yeah.” He had ignored it. Mainly because he spent the entire week in a panic without her. Well, mildly panicked. He wasn’t accustomed to spending so much of his time alone.
“We went to Mii Amo.”
“You went to another resort other than ours?” he asked, irritated.
“Yes. Everyone knows my name at the three resorts we have in the US. They don’t give me a moment’s rest or let me act like a tourist, so I went somewhere else. And, do you know what I did the entire time I was there?”
He could not speak, so he shook his head.
“I rested. I gorged myself on some amazing food, and I had so many body treatments I can’t even remember them all. Massages, body wraps, reiki…you name it and it was probably done to my body.”
She closed her eyes and hummed. Good lord, she was trying to kill him. Just thinking about her naked on a table, slathered with oils and lotions, had what little blood left in his brain traveling down to his cock. Fuck.
When she opened her eyes, she was smiling. “And I loved it. It was fantastic. In fact, we are planning another one later this year and I cannot wait. So, for your information, I do know how to relax.”
When he said nothing, she frowned.
“Are you okay, Jensen?”
He nodded, but he still didn’t talk.
“You should at least jump in the shower to wash the grime off you. You’re pretty, but I’m sure whatever sub you find tonight doesn’t want a stinky Dom.”
He nodded again.
“I’m going to take one myself before heading over to Serenity’s. If I don’t see you before you leave, have fun, but play safe.”
And with that, she trotted up the stairs as if she hadn’t just given him a vivid picture of herself as she lay naked.
“Sir?” Marta said when she walked back into the foyer.
He shook himself out of his stupor and gave their housekeeper a smile. “No worries. Just a little jetlag. A shower will fix all that.”
But even as he made his way to his second-floor bedroom, he knew he was lying. The only way the shower would work was if it were ice cold. He really hated when Nic was right.
chaptertwo
Jensen stepped out of the car and smiled at John. “Thanks. I’ll text you when I’m ready to go.”
“Sure thing, sir.”
Jensen was smiling when he flashed his card to the doorman and then walked into Rough ‘n Ready. Years ago, Nicola had suggested that maybe he needed to explore his need for control. He had thought she meant going to a therapist, but instead, she sent him to a Dominatrix who taught him exactly what he needed in the bedroom. His need to control his environment, and failing at that, had sent him running to drugs. Now, he had this.
He stood at the top of the stairs and took in the crowd. It was Saturday night, so the place was packed. Of course, it was busy on the weeknights also, but Saturdays were probably their best nights. Jensen enjoyed Rough ‘n Ready. It was well-run and always packed with a good group of people. The regulars were great, but being in a vacation spot like Honolulu, he could always count on someone new to meet. The black and red interior was common in many clubs, but the layout was different. Ross and his partner Evan Chambers understood that just because you were at the club, you didn’t always want to play. Being among people who understood who you were, that was a comfort.
The private rooms were filled with the best equipment, and the open area included a bar—only for those not playing for the night—and ample seating. The best part about it was what he called the stadium. There was an opening in the floor that served as a demonstration area. While many people would assume that a BDSM club in Hawaii would be a little more than a tourist attraction, Rough ‘n Ready was so much more than that. They brought in people from all over the world for classes and demonstrations; and boasted every well-known Dom and Domme on the islands as members and/or teachers.
He was only about halfway across the floor when he spotted Micah Ross, one of the two owners of Rough ‘n Ready. Jensen changed his direction, so he could chat up the Native American Dom. Ross would have the best idea on who was willing and able to take up for some fun for a night.
When people thought of the quintessential Native American, Micah Ross could be the poster boy. Tall, stoic, with long, black, straight hair, he dominated any room he was in. Even as crowded as the club was, there was no doubt he drew most eyes when he walked through the gathering. It had nothing to do with him being the owner of the club, and everything to do with the man.
“Hey, Wulf,” he said with a smile and handshake. “How’s tricks?”
“Ross. Seems the club is hopping tonight.”
“As usual, thankfully.”
