Zeck Read online

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2016 Khloe Wren

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-737-2

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  As I wrote this story, Paris was attacked by terrorists. Innocent people attending the Eagles of Death Metal concert were murdered as they waited for the show to start. I’m dedicating this book to all those families who were affected by the horrific attacks on Friday the 13th, November 2015. #PrayersForParis

  ZECK

  Scandals, 2

  Khloe Wren

  Copyright © 2016

  Chapter One

  Zeck

  Loud screams echoed behind me as I followed my band-mates down the hall to our backstage room. My blood still raced with the rush of performing and being able to interact with our fans. I let out a whoop. Our first show here in Paris was now over, and it had been awesome.

  “Man, you crack me up every time. Never know what you’re going to do.”

  I grinned at Law and did my stupid drunk dance through the doorway.

  “What can I say? The crowd loves me!”

  We all laughed and fell into chairs around the room. Except Dillon. He bee-lined for his girl. Like a magnet, my gaze followed him despite the fact I knew precisely what he was going to do. The way he caressed his palm over Ashlyn’s swollen belly before leaning down to kiss her had my stomach twisting. I wasn’t sure why. At twenty-three years old I was in my prime. I had no desire to settle down. Too much to see and do for that. But there was something about the intimacy, the bond they had that called to me.

  “Zeck? Come with me for moment.”

  “Sure, Jas.”

  I rose to my feet, grateful for the distraction. I was struggling to hold onto my carefree facade in front of my friends tonight. Jasko, or Jas for short, was Right Time’s head of security. He was Russian and as big as a fucking truck. His English was fortunately fairly good, but occasionally his accent would strengthen and make it hard to understand what he was trying to say. Knowing he wouldn’t pull me away from the others without a good reason, I followed him intrigued over what he could want.

  “What’s up, big guy?”

  Jas led me to a smaller room the band wasn’t using, before closing the door.

  “You look on edge tonight. I wanted to ask you some question.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, nervous that he’d noticed my inner turmoil.

  “I just have some excess energy to burn. We haven’t been clowning around that much lately.”

  Not only was Dillon spending all his spare time with his new wife, but Alec was quieter and less energetic. I guessed that, like me, watching Dillon with Ashlyn stirred up Alec’s inner desires. Law was no better, although I hadn’t been able to work out why he was suddenly acting so serious most of the time. On top of all that, we’d been flying all over the damn place with this tour. Down time hadn’t happened since our brief break for Dillon and Ashlyn’s wedding.

  The big man nodded, then rubbed his jaw.

  “I know you like to laugh and joke, but underneath you are thoughtful. You observe around you, help anyone you can. You are caretaker, yes?”

  I shrugged a shoulder as embarrassment heated my cheeks. I liked to know everyone who I cared about was happy and safe. Was that a crime?

  “I guess you could call me that. I know I’m lucky, that I have more than I deserve so I’m happy to share it around. I didn’t think management had an issue with it.”

  While we’d been in Sydney, I’d ordered dozens of pizzas before driving around and giving them out to the homeless I found. Phillip, our manager, had said it was great publicity and humanized me. Whatever the hell that meant. I just wanted to help out. Feed a few hungry people. No big deal.

  “You don’t much like management controlling you, do you?”

  “Jas, we’ve been touring all bloody year. You know all of us are over being told what to do and where to be.”

  I swallowed past a lump that had formed in my throat when I noticed the muscle along Jas’s jaw begin to tick as if he was clenching and unclenching it.

  “When you take lover, you like to control her, yes?”

  My head snapped up, and anger flashed through me.

  “Where are you going with this? I don’t kiss and tell, you know that.”

  He grinned at me, a big stupid “gotcha” grin.

  “Tonight we go to a special club. One I think you like.”

  I’d already been planning on heading out with the boys. I was hoping I could pick up a chipie for some relief.

  “All of us, or just me and you?”

  “Me and you. Other boys are not like you and me.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about so fell back on humor like I always did.

  “Well, so long as there’s plenty of women there, I’m a happy man, Jas.”

  “I promise there will be women.”

  There was something about the glint in his eye that made me nervous.

  “Ah, okay so when are we going and what should I wear?”

  What I was wearing was damp with sweat from running around on stage, so I’d definitely need to change.

  “I have it arranged. We go to hotel now, shower and change. Then we go.”

  ****

  “Where are we going again? And are the leather pants really necessary?”

  As I asked Jas, I attempted once more to rearrange myself in the confines of the rear of the car. I’d checked in the mirror before we left and I knew they looked fucking spectacular, but damn they were restrictive on a man when it came to sitting down. I eyed the big man sitting beside me. Jasko looked completely comfortable in his own leathers. Like me, he wore a tight fitted black tank that did nothing to hide the massive amount of muscle the man was packing.

  “Every man wears leather here. You get used to it soon.”

  The sleek town car pulled up smoothly in front of a bland looking stone building on the outskirts of downtown Paris. Jas got out and moved to my side of the car. With a nervous inhale, I ran my palms over my head, making sure my hair was still neatly pulled back in the elastic tie. I pulled off my glasses and cleaned them before resettling them in place. My skin tingled with unease. I hated having to disguise myself every time I went out. Tonight I’d taken it easy, with only the stupid fake glasses and my shoulder length hair tied up. The evening was warm and I couldn’t be screwed mucking around with a wig that was only going to make me itch and uncomfortable all night. I hoped it was enough. The last thing I wanted was to get recognized at whatever this place was. I didn’t feel like handling a mob of fans at the moment. Not with my mind reeling from what Jas had said. Was I really that transparent?

  The door opened, and a rush of cold air flowed over me as I rose from the vehicle. Out of habit, I held my breath, waiting for the screams to start.

  “Private club. No fans here. You regular tourist here.”

  I raised a brow at Jas. “Seriously? Not sure that’s possible no matter how private the place is. But hey, I’ve got the toughest man in the city with me, so I’m all good no matter what happens.”

  Jas’s shoulders straightened, and he smirked at me. I was pretty sure Jas knew I was just yanking his chain, but whatever. If it made him smile,
it was all good. A horrible thought crept into my mind.

  “This isn’t some kind of joke is it? There are women in here?”

  So help me if Jas had brought me to a gay club … because if he had, he so had the wrong band member! While I have nothing against homosexuals, I wasn’t one. And tonight I really could use some female company. Jas didn’t answer me, but pushed open the door and ushered me through it. Heavy bass thumped through the walls of the small reception area. Jas strolled over to an expensive looking desk. The woman standing next to it froze my breath. She was a timid looking thing, dressed for sex in a purple corset and black leather mini skirt. I took a deep breath. This was definitely not a gay club.

  Jas leaned in and spoke directly into the woman’s ear, and I smiled as the girl’s eyes widened and her gaze zoomed in on me. She nodded at whatever Jas said, and before I knew it we were on our way down a flight of stairs to the basement.

  Ducking through a dark red curtain, I found myself in another world. I stood still and blinked as my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit club. My spine straightened when they focused. There were women and a few men bound to benches and crosses, or kneeling at another’s feet.

  “Jas? How’d you know this place was here?”

  “How you think?”

  Before he could explain more a tall, curvy woman strolled straight up to him. I stood mesmerized as she gracefully fell to her knees in front of the Russian.

  “Evening, Sir. How may I serve you?”

  A grin curved my lips as excitement buzzed through my veins. Jas was a fucking Dom, and he’d brought me to a kink club. I wasn’t so naive to have never heard of BDSM. After overhearing my sister wax poetic over some book she’d read, I’d secretly borrowed it from her to see what all the fuss was about. My curiosity was piqued, but I hadn’t taken it further. I could just imagine what Phillip, our manager, would do if I was caught whipping some chick. It would make Dillon knocking up Ashlyn seem droll.

  I chuckled when the woman preened and purred as Jas ran a hand over her head.

  “Rise, myshka.”

  As the woman rose, I spoke to Jas.

  “What did you just call her?”

  “Little mouse. Endearment in Russian.”

  A soft smile formed on her face. Apparently, she liked the name.

  “Follow me.”

  I had no idea if Jas was talking to me or his little mouse, but I didn’t know what else to do so I followed him over to a couple of low couches surrounded by large floor cushions.

  “Sit, Zeck. Observe for while.”

  He whispered into the woman’s ear, and she trotted off toward the bar as I sat down.

  “You’ve been here before haven’t you?”

  “Paris is not so far from England. Whenever in town I come. Jane is American, so she like Dom who speak English.”

  I had to laugh.

  “But dude, you’re Russian!”

  With a low chuckle, he shrugged.

  “She like Russian accent.”

  Jane returned with two beers and handed us one each. As I took my first mouthful, she lowered to her knees again and leaned against Jas’s leg. Jas started up with the petting thing he’d done earlier, and Jane’s body relaxed as she sighed. Pulling my focus away from her I glanced around the large space to see what else was going on. My attention caught on a beautiful, lush woman wearing only a lacy blue g-string over her curvy body being tied up. Her Dom was wrapping golden rope, which matched her hair color, around her nude body with precise movements and tying knots faster than a Boy Scout could. Her arms were behind her back and her large round breasts were thrust out as her Dom framed them with the rope. I moved my pelvis trying to give my dick more room. Damn, but that woman was hot. My mouth watered as I imagined what it would be like to suckle on her pretty pink nipples.

  “Evening, gentlemen. Welcome back, Jas. I see you brought a guest tonight. Mind if I join you for a while?”

  My mind cleared of lust, and I focused on the newcomer. I was a little stunned at the man’s flawless English. He had only a slight accent. He was clearly French, but at a guess he’d spent at least a couple of years in the UK, or maybe the US.

  “Of course. As we discussed, I brought Krys to come see if he like.”

  I smiled as Jas called me by my middle name. Another part of the disguise. The man let rip with a loud burst of laughter.

  “I’ve missed your sense of humor, Jas. My club is filled with beautiful submissives being pleasured by their Doms. What’s not to like, my friend?”

  Smirking, I relaxed into my seat, instantly liking the club owner.

  “It’s a great looking club you have. What do I call you?”

  I didn’t want to break any Dom code or anything. I already liked the look of this place and really didn’t want to get booted out the door.

  “My name is Brian, but mostly I am called Monsieur here. So, you think this is something you’d like to learn more about?”

  “Definitely. To be honest I’d gotten interested in BDSM a year or so ago but didn’t want to risk the publicity of looking into it.”

  Brian nodded toward me.

  “That I can understand. My club here is exclusive and private. Everything that happens beneath my roof is consensual, and there is also a no camera rule, which includes phones. Anyone caught breaking either of those rules is banned instantly.”

  My muscles relaxed in relief. This place sounded like heaven. It also explained why Jas had me leave my phone in the car earlier.

  “No cameras sounds great. I might never leave.”

  I grinned over at the owner.

  “If you would like to come back regularly, I’ll need you to fill out some paperwork, but for tonight you’re here as Jas’s guest and I’m sure you’ll behave yourself. Is there anything you’ve seen so far that has caught your eye?

  I focused back on the scene I’d been watching earlier.

  “I rather like the look of the rope stuff.”

  Brian chuckled. “That’s called shibari, not rope stuff. What’s your schedule like? Will you be able to make it in again before you leave town?”

  I rubbed the back of my neck.

  “So long as I can come in late, I’m good any night this week.”

  He gave me a nod of understanding, and I was grateful Jas had obviously explained to him who I was already.

  “Tomorrow night then. Come back and I’ll have a training session set up for you. I would offer you a place in our Dom training program, but you won’t be staying that long. I’m sure Jas will be able to find you somewhere closer to home to train.”

  “Thanks, Brian. I certainly hope so. And I’m already looking forward to tomorrow night.”

  It was the truth. I was intrigued by everything that was going on around me, and that sweet little thing getting trussed up across the room still had my body hard and aching.

  “Will the demonstration be on the same girl?”

  Brian gave me a knowing smile.

  “I shall request young Isobel join us for the session. I’m sure she’ll agree. Little Issy loves being in the firm hold of ropes.”

  With satisfaction I leaned back in the seat and watched as little Issy got herself well and truly tied in knots across the room. Tomorrow night it would be knots I helped to tie that would bind her beautiful form. My dick kicked against the fly of my leathers. Yeah, shibari was definitely my kind of kink.

  ****

  Issy

  I slipped into the girls’ change room and cringed. Monique was running her mouth again. I was going to miss a lot of things about France. Bitching little Monique was not one of them. It was thoughts of never having to see Monique again that would keep me from overstaying my visa.

  After nearly a full year in Paris my nannying job was over, and I was left with a few precious weeks before I had to return home to Australia. I frowned at my locker. I knew the moment I got home I had some decisions to make. Shaking my head, I pushed it all aside. I wouldn’t let worries ov
er the future taint my night.

  “I’m telling you, it was Zeck from Right Time. Monsieur Brian and Monsieur Jas were sitting with him last night. And Jane. Where is she? She was all over Monsieur Jas, as per usual.”

  Jane had been beyond excited last night. She adored Jas, especially his accent. I had to agree with her that when it deepened to his Dom drawl, it was pretty damn sexy.

  I faced Monique. “That guy had glasses on. Zeck doesn’t wear them.”

  I wasn’t a huge fan, but I watched TV. I knew who Right Time was and that they were currently playing in Paris. Monique rolled her eyes at me as she zipped up her mini skirt, which barely covered her ass.

  “Oh, of course he tried to disguise himself! But I’d know that tattoo anywhere.”

  I thought back to the man Monique was talking about as I opened my locker and dumped my bag inside. A small sigh escaped my throat. He had been totally dreamy, with his dark hair pulled back into a sleek low ponytail. I hadn’t thought the glasses looked right on his handsome face, but the leather pants sure as hell did. He’d worn a tight black tank that revealed his gloriously muscled biceps. Of course I noticed. I’d always had a thing for bulging biceps on a man. An intricate tattoo had curved around one arm and up under his shirt. A massive oriental dragon. Just like the one Zeck from Right Time has.

  “Get over it, Monique. I doubt he’ll be back, and even if he does, this is a private club. You can’t go fan-girling the man like some groupie at a concert.”

  I gripped the edge of my locker tightly to prevent clapping in applause as an older submissive dressed Monique down.

  Monique responded predictably with a mouthful of creative French cursing I couldn’t quite translate … not that I needed to. I focused on getting myself dressed for the evening. Monsieur Brian had called me this morning to ask if I’d be happy to be used to teach a new Dom shibari later tonight. Naturally, I said yes. Monsieur Brian was an expert with rope, and any submissive would do just about anything to be the one he tied up.