Jack followed Julian into the bar level of the club. Vaguely Jack noted the slight changes Julian had made. The carpet looked new. He shrugged. He’d never paid much attention to decor. He’d spent his nights prowling the dungeon and the playroom. That had been a long time ago. He wondered if it would be different coming here as a guest. He and Sam had come several times but almost always to find a woman to share for the weekend. Ménage was common among this set. In the past they would hook up with a woman on a Friday night then spend the weekend with her in one of the upstairs suites.

Abby had changed all that.

Still, it might be fun to bring her here. They could take her downstairs and get her hot and bothered watching the scenes. Then, when she couldn’t take anymore, he’d get her in the elevator and give her the pounding she deserved. He’d carry her into their suite, and he and Sam would make sure she couldn’t walk come Monday morning. She wouldn’t have to, he vowed. He’d just carry her around.

What was he thinking? Jack shook his head in disgust. She’d been sick not two days before and he wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t walk? He remembered the promise he’d made to himself in the hospital. He’d promised that if he lived, he would try to be a better man. He wouldn’t be so demanding. He would have the type of marriage that Abigail deserved and be the friend Sam needed.

He’d done what he promised, so why did he feel like he was losing them?

Julian opened the door to a small private dining room. The room had a distinctly masculine edge to it. All the furniture was comfortable but elegant. There was a fire blazing in the fireplace in the back of the room. It gave the room an intimate glow. Jack knew this was Julian’s personal dining room. No one else used it.

“I modeled it after the old White’s Club in London.” Julian led Slater in. “I did some meticulous research.”

Slater relaxed once the door closed. The dining room was elegant, with none of the overt sexuality that hung over The Club. His brown eyes took in the sumptuous furnishings with approval. “Yes, this looks a bit like an old-world gentleman’s club. I have to say, I prefer that to the new ones. A gentleman’s club used to be a place where men got away from women, not merely found ones with less clothing.”

He got the feeling Slater didn’t get laid much.

Julian pulled out a wooden box. He flipped open the top. “Cubans.” He offered up the rich-smelling cigars. Slater took one. Jack was sorely tempted. Julian only bought the best.

“No,” he said regretfully. “My wife would kill me.”

He sank down into the chair. His stomach was in knots. They still hadn’t called back. He was starting to get worried. He was going to refuse the cigars, and he wouldn’t have a second drink. He needed a perfectly clear head. It would take a couple of hours to get home. He knew he should stay the night, but he would never get to sleep without talking to them. He didn’t sleep much, anyway, not anymore. If he was going to be miserable, at least he could do it at home where he knew the people he loved were in the next room.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Jackson, but your wife isn’t here,” Julian said, taking that first puff. The rich aroma filled the air.

“It’s easy to see you’ve never been married.” He was going to have to change clothes and take a shower to get rid of the smoky smell. “Abigail’s always here.”

Slater laughed but shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “This is why I never married. Why would I want some woman dictating my every move? I thought you were into this lifestyle, Mr. Barnes.”

“Which lifestyle is that?”

Slater’s voice went low. “The bondage thing. The BS thing.”

“Yes, Slater, I’m into the bullshit thing.” He would have left it at that, but Julian went into teaching mode. Sometimes he thought if Julian hadn’t been such a righteous pervert, he would have done well at a university.

“BDSM,” Julian corrected. He poured a few fingers of Scotch into a glass. Jack waved him off. Julian shrugged and continued. “It stands for bondage, sadism, and masochism. Alternately it also stands for bondage, Dominance, and submission. I believe Jackson and I are more in line with the latter. We both prefer our lovers to be submissive.”

“Speak for yourself,” he said. “Abigail isn’t very submissive.” Except in the bedroom. A vision of her tied to the whipping chair, her body laid out and open to him, assaulted his brain.

“Really?” Julian asked, looking at him seriously. “I’m surprised to hear that. I would have said you could never be happy in a relationship that didn’t involve submission on some level. I know you’re not a full-time Dom, but I assumed any sexual relationship would be in the lifestyle.”

“I can be vanilla. No woman wants to be dominated all the time.” He could be demanding. It wasn’t fair to ask that of her.

“That has not been my experience.” Julian was studying him. Jack was starting to get nervous. The last thing Jack needed was Julian trying to get into his head. “I’ve found many women enjoy it on some level, even if it is only play. They enjoy the feeling of protection a Dom can give them. A Dom can shelter a woman from everything, even her own insecurities.”

“Stay out of my marriage, Julian.” He stared at his mentor, trying to get him off the damn subject.

“If only I could,” Julian muttered under his breath.

Slater took a long swallow of his Scotch. “Well, I don’t understand the appeal of any of it. I wouldn’t want a woman to be dependent on me for everything.”

“You’re not a Dom,” Julian said shortly, dismissing the man. He looked like he wanted to pursue the conversation with Jack.

Jack steeled himself to have a lengthy discussion with his old mentor about keeping out of his business. He was saved by the door opening.

He sat up a little straighter as a young man walked in the room. He was pretty sure it was a young man. His hair was strangely shaped. It was black and swept over his face like it was windblown, yet he didn’t try to shove it back. It stayed in place, and Jack realized this kid used hair spray. He had bangs. Why the hell did that boy have bangs? He was dressed in a god-awful purple V-neck T-shirt. It was the type of shirt that looked hot on Abigail. It showed off her breasts. The young man in front of him didn’t have breasts, so why did he need to show off his milky white chest? Jack’s eyes moved down the kid’s body, widening in horror. The jeans he was wearing looked like someone had painted them on the man. They were black and fit him like a second skin. He completed the look with a skinny belt that was draped over his hips. It did nothing to keep his pants up. Hell, he didn’t need a belt to do that. That man might never get the pants off, but the belt was obviously some form of decoration. Despite the low light of the room, he was wearing a pair of sunglasses.

This was his brother?

The young man swaggered up to the trio. He glanced around the room with a look of cool disdain. “I’ve seen way better clubs than this. You Lodge?”

Julian nodded. Jack couldn’t mistake the small smile on Julian’s face. He was extremely amused. Jack was glad someone was having a good time. “Yes, I’m Julian Lodge.”

The young man turned to Jack. “Since I know that asshole in the back, that must make you Jack Barnes. I suppose I expected you to show up in a cowboy hat fresh off the range. Did you leave your horse outside?”

He stood up. Though the young man was almost as tall as Jack, he had the slight build of a teen, compared to that of a man. Jack had fifty pounds on him at least. The kid needed some work to put muscle on his frame.

“I left my horse on my ranch,” he said. “What the hell is wrong with you, son? Didn’t they teach manners in those fancy schools you went to? Take those damn sunglasses off when you’re inside.”

The sunglasses came off in a flash, and Jack heard Slater’s shocked gasp.

“I thought they looked cool.” Lucas Cameron sounded far less arrogant now.

“Is the fact that your pants are two sizes too small supposed to be cool, too?”

“Yes.” Lucas self-consciously pulled them away from his waist. They didn’t budge. He seemed stunned that someone was talking to him the way Jack was. Whoa, without the sunglasses, the face staring at him looked awfully familiar.

“Jackson, it’s like looking at you ten years ago.” Julian’s focus switched between the two. It was obvious Julian was making comparisons. “I’ve seen him in photographs, but the two of you together, the resemblance is astonishing.”

Yes, his half-brother greatly resembled him. There were, of course, a few differences. “Are you wearing makeup, son?”

“It’s just a little guy-liner,” Lucas mumbled.

“I don’t know what that is, but my wife wears something like that. I don’t think that’s meant for men.” He was not able to keep the horror out of his voice.

Lucas suddenly stood up straight, as though surprised at his own actions. “I wouldn’t expect a cowboy to know what’s fashionable. That monkey suit you’re wearing is boring.”

He hated it, too. “I find it to be confining. But at least it fits.”

“I didn’t come here to talk fashion with you, Mr. Barnes,” Lucas said, puffing himself up. His dark green eyes narrowed. “I came here to talk business. Sorry, that Neanderthal you sent out to pick me up didn’t scare me away, Lodge. Now, what the hell is Slater doing here? Who invited my father’s flunky?”

“I came down here to make sure you don’t ruin your father’s career.” Slater’s lips thinned with distaste as he looked the young man over.

He suddenly wondered if everyone treated Lucas this way.

For some reason, Lucas reminded him of Sam. He sat back down, choosing, for the moment, to simply observe. Maybe Julian was right and there was more to all of this than simple brattiness and greed. He took in the arrogant set of Lucas’s eyes. It didn’t match the slump of his shoulders. His feet were close together, while his arms were crossed. He was protecting himself. It was almost as though Lucas wanted to fall into himself. Yet, he was standing here in a group of authoritative men, trying to blackmail them. It was an interesting quandary.

“If he’s so concerned about his political future, then he should have paid me off,” Lucas said. Jack heard a lot of bravado behind the statement, but a surprising lack of will.

“Your father isn’t a fool.” Slater nearly spat while he spoke. He got into Lucas’s space. “He knows you’ll never stop asking him for money. Hasn’t he paid enough?”

Lucas’s lip curled up, but there was nothing humorous about his expression. “I give him all the free publicity he can handle.”

“Yes, the recent articles on your various drug addictions and close calls with the law did wonders for his chances in the primaries,” Slater shot back.

“Well, he had my sister to help. Didn’t she recently graduate from Harvard?”

“With her Ph.D. in law. She’ll have a judgeship in no time. Your brother is already a state senator. They make your mother and father proud. They’re assets. What’s wrong with you? You’ve had every advantage, and yet all you seem capable of is doing drugs and having perverse sex. There’s a rumor out there that you’re gay.”

“I’m not gay,” Lucas protested with a sneer. “Of course, I’m not straight, either.”

Slater rolled his eyes. “I came here because I thought you needed a chaperone. You should never be allowed in this club. It isn’t proper for anyone. Places like this shouldn’t exist, if you ask me. It could truly hurt your family if you were caught here.”

“Should I pull the senator’s membership then?” Julian’s aristocratic features were blank. Slater was really pissing him off. When Julian’s face went blank, that was when Jack got worried.

Of course all that irritation wasn’t directed at him so he grinned, somewhat amused. “Did he join before or after we had our little chat with him?”

“Oh, after,” Julian assured him. “He was quite intrigued. He stops in every time he’s in the area. He quite likes the dungeon. I believe he brought a young brunette with him last time.”

Lucas frowned. “That would be Justine. She was my girlfriend for a while.”

“The senator is discreet.” Julian looked at the boy with some sympathy.

“The senator is an asshole,” Lucas muttered. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s get down to business, gentlemen. Are we having dinner or not? I could use a drink. The whole nearly-getting-run-down-by-a-crazy-person thing has me on edge. And your driver is an asshole, too.”

“Well, the being-blackmailed-by-a-spoiled-brat thing has done wonders for my nerves.” Julian poured another drink with a perfectly steady hand. “And dear god, please tell me you called Taggart my driver. That alone would be worth the trouble.”

“I’m not giving you twenty million dollars,” Jack stated flatly.

“Then I’m sure I can make money off a tabloid story about the senator’s long-lost son.” Lucas’s bitterness was apparent in his tone. He took a quick drink and coughed like he hadn’t expected what he’d gotten. Jack wasn’t so sure about his reputation as a hard drinker. He would bet the drug stories were overblown, too. “You know he holds you up as paragon of virtue, Jack Barnes. You’re a self-made man. I could learn a lot from you. You had nothing, but you pulled yourself up. All it took was a bit of blackmail. Hell, he even admires you for that.”

“I’m not responsible for your relationship with your father.” It was plain the boy was in need of attention, but he wasn’t Jack’s responsibility.

“Of course, it’s all my fault.” Lucas held the glass and stared into the fire.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Lucas’s reply was simple, the answer of a boy who knew the score and knew that he was never going to change anyone’s mind. “You’re just like the rest of them. I don’t know why I thought you might be different.” He took a long drink, as though building up his courage. He managed to only wince at that last drink before turning to face the men in the room. “Here’s the deal, gentlemen. If I don’t get what I want, I’m prepared to sell a story to the tabloids. I intend to out Julian Lodge as James Masters, the head of the Masters Fund. I doubt anyone will want to work with a notorious sex club owner.”

“I don’t think I’ll worry too much about that. Hugh Hefner never hurt for business,” Julian said with an elegant sigh. “Besides, I have enough money as it is. If all my investors dry up, I’ll take a nice vacation.”

That seemed to rattle Lucas. He shook it off and turned to Jack. “Fine, maybe Lodge doesn’t think he has anything to lose, but you recently got married. What’s your wife going to think about your past in this club? How’s she going to feel knowing she married a notorious Dom?”

He noticed Julian hide a smile behind his hand. The boy had no idea how to handle men like them. “I wouldn’t call me notorious. I was actually quite good at it. And Abigail knows what I used to do and exactly how I came by the seed money for my business. You can’t shock her. Come by the house sometime, and I’ll introduce you to her. You can tell her what you know. I think she’ll be highly amused.”

She wouldn’t be amused. She would be pissed off. Abigail could be very protective of her men. Lucas would be forced to deal with one mad cat.

Lucas’s face got hard and, for a second, Jack wondered if he looked like that from time to time. It appeared there was some steel in the boy after all. “Fine. Then I’m sure the world would love to know about your ménage. Trust me, cattle ranchers sharing their woman will be a story the world would love to hear. Couple it with the fact that you’re Senator Allen Cameron’s son, and your sexual activities will be all over the news. I’m sure they’ll believe you simply share her. They won’t think anything of the fact that you lived with Samuel Fleetwood for years before ever meeting Abby Moore. That business you’re in is a macho business. I’m sure a couple of gay cowboys will go over like gangbusters, bro.”

“Jackson.”

He heard the warning in Julian’s voice. He knew exactly what worried the club owner. Julian wouldn’t want to have to clean up the blood that he was about to spill. He heard the warning, but it seemed a distant thing. What he could hear plainly was his blood pressure rising. It was a roar in his ears blocking out everything else. He saw what he was going to do like a movie in his mind. He was going to wrap his hands around Lucas Cameron’s throat, and then the little shit wouldn’t be a problem to anyone anymore.

The door to the dining room flew open.

“Mr. Lodge, we have a code red in the playroom,” said a breathless young woman in leather shorts and a bustier. It was obvious she had run in from the bar area. There was a buzzing coming from outside.

“Call Leo.” Julian got out of his seat. He took off his jacket and slung it over the chair, as though he knew he would be getting dirty.

“Leo’s involved in it. He was on the scene when it started,” the woman explained. “They’re fighting over two subs. The male started a fight with Patrick, and it’s getting bloody. He’s smaller than Patrick, but he seems really mean. Sally’s in the middle of all of it. I can’t find their Dom.”

Julian’s face hardened. “I know exactly where their Dom is. Jackson, will you forgo killing your brother for the moment? I need your help.”

He clenched his fists but got up anyway. He’d promised Julian he would help if the subs in the Platinum Suite got out of hand. It seemed like they had. It was only to be expected. Two subs shouldn’t go running around in a club like this. He should have insisted on talking to them earlier, but he’d been thinking of his own problems. He was still thinking of his own problems, but theirs seemed to be intruding. Besides, he couldn’t kill Lucas in front of witnesses. That would have to be done quietly and privately. He shook his head as he followed Julian out.

“How bad is it?” Julian glanced back at the blonde woman, but she couldn’t keep up in her heels.

Even from the bar, he could hear the fight. It was loud and getting louder by the second. He knew it was bad when Julian broke into a jog.

“Call security.” Jack barked the order to the bartender as they ran down the hallway that led to the playroom. Normally a bouncer was standing at the entryway, but the small desk was empty. So he’d likely already jumped into the fray.

There was a mass of people watching the fight. It seemed like all other activities had come to a halt and violence, rather than sex, was the theme of the evening. The sickening thud of flesh hitting flesh hit his ears. He followed Julian as they started shoving their way through the crowd.

“You keep your fucking hands off her!” A familiar voice cut through the mess.

He stopped because he knew that voice. “Sam?”

Through the throng of bodies fighting, he caught a glimpse of his partner. He was throwing a punch at a bald guy while kicking another man. He seemed to be trying to get to someone. Jack had a sudden horrible thought that he knew who Sam was trying to protect.

Julian looked back at him. “Well, would you like to talk to me about karma now, Jackson? Like it or not, it’s about to bite you in the ass.”