Nodding slowly, his hand reached for his straw and he started peeling at the wrapper. “With a club, everyone knows they’ve been background checked and there are…what were they called…monitors?”
Before I could do more than nod in agreement, he’d already kept going. “Everyone around them knows that there are rules and what words stop everything, and no one has to fear that they’re going to end up on the front page of the gossip column.”
“Exactly.” Turning it back to the business side of things, I forced my shoulders to relax. “And the gentlemen’s type clubs in the area are more focused on either strippers or backroom deals. They’re not about relaxing and having a safe place to explore what they want or need.”
“So you’re not looking to give the wheelers and dealers the newest place to make Capitol Hill decisions?” His grin widened as I groaned.
“No, and I’m going to make it very clear to anyone who joins that work stops at the door and if they can’t follow that rule, they’re gone.” I hoped it wouldn’t be an issue, but I wasn’t an idiot. “The NDA everyone will sign will make sure there aren’t problems even if someone doesn’t like being booted, but I think the background check and the stern warning will keep the wrong people from trying to join.”
Something about my answer had a spark of curiosity flaring in his eyes. “What kind of people would you turn away? Who wouldn’t be welcome?”
It was a good question.
“First, let me say that there are a lot of towns in a two-hour radius that don’t have anything to do with the crazy of DC, so I think we’ll get a mix of people that will keep it from being just another hangout for DC insiders.” No one else would come if it was just those blowhards, and my birdie’s nod said he understood that, so I went back to his question.
“Who’s automatically out? Anyone whose background check looks like they’re fake or too high up the food chain around here for me to be sure they’re not going to cause problems. I’m not looking to have one of the alphabet soup agencies breathing down my neck because the director of this or that wants to come play.” My answer had him chuckling.
“So you’re more worried about the FBI than, say, a couple whose relationship is taboo or a guy who wants something interesting?” Birdie’s thoughtful expression said he’d fallen down some interesting rabbit holes when he’d been doing his research.
“My main concerns are protecting the members’ privacy and consent. I don’t have to understand why a member likes something to want to protect him and to want to see him happy.” Trying to think through a variety of options, I found myself lifting one shoulder. “I can’t picture exact issues that would make me uncomfortable aside from age issues or consent ones. Nothing illegal. Period.”
He didn’t seem surprised, but I could see questions in his eyes that I knew I didn’t understand. “I get that. But I see people. I meet people.”
Birdie’s smirk made me hard, but I ignored that and focused on his words. “When I’m at the club, somehow even pissed, I don’t look like someone that’s going to judge.”
Oh, there was a story there.
I wondered what I’d missed, but I ignored the tempting distraction.
“I can see that. You draw people in even when you’re not trying to.” I was pretty sure it was that magnetic effect that gave him so many problems when he was on the dance floor.Even knowing he was like electricity and would shock and burn, people still gravitated toward the beautiful shine that was my pretty birdie.
He scoffed, not willing to admit how incredible he was. “People are idiots. But sometimes the idiots aren’t idiots and just have issues.”
We were dancing closer to the point, but I knew we hadn’t reached it yet.
“People come to BDSM for a lot of different reasons and people need it for different reasons. As long as they’re not going to get me shut down and as long as the relationship is consensual, I don’t see a huge problem.” What could he be talking about? “Hell, I’m even planning for one of the small private rooms to be a wet room.”
When his brows pulled together, I tried not to smile as I thought about how grateful I was that we didn’t have anyone right next to us. “Think room-sized shower where you can actually shower with your partner if you want to do something like just take care of them, or if your kinks are more on the curious end of the spectrum, you can piss on them.”
He blinked, not reacting at all as his mind processed it.
“So, easy cleanup and you don’t have to worry about getting your own bathroom dirty.” Slowly nodding like he grasped the logic of it all, the birdie focused on the practical side. “Home bathrooms aren’t made for that kind of mess. Splashes and drywall don’t mix.”
His brain was delightful.
“Exactly. But I’m trying to decide if I make it a viewing room or not.” Frowning, I stayed on the practical side to give him timeto process. “Some of the smaller playrooms will have windows for those who want to be watched…like one-way glass that you see in a police drama on TV…but curtains and bathrooms don’t always mix.”
Birdie didn’t seem to think that was an issue. “Then you do a big window with the type that has the blinds in between the glass. Depending on budget and a few things like that, it should be doable.”
What the fuck did he do for a living?
“I’ll look into that.” Here and now. I had to focus on the here and now with the birdie. “That really just comes back to my lack of a contractor, though.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No luck yet?”
“I’m closer.” Hopefully. “Fingers crossed no one panics at the weird topic, I have two appointments later this week with custom builders that do million-dollar homes. One company seemed interested, the other seemed weirded out, but they both agreed to do a walk-through and talk to me about the project.”
That sexy smirk peeked out again. “Which building?”
