Except that’s exactly what Hades implied when we sealed our deal with a kiss. I barely manage to keep myself from asking how Tink sealed her deal. It’s none of my business, and she obviously doesn’t like me that much already. “So we all just work in the club?”
“Pretty much.” She moves back to the racks and pulls out a pair of shorts. “These should work. Put them on.”
This time, I don’t bother to argue. I’m obviously not going to get much in the way of explanation, and I gave my word to Hades. I won’t let something as mundane as modesty get in the way of keeping it. I strip out of my jeans and pull on the shorts. They’re smaller than I expected, barely covering my ass in the back and hugging my cock and balls so snugly that they create an obscene bulge in the front.
And, except for the front panel, they’re made of see-through mesh.
“Hades can be something of a traditionalist, so he likes us barefoot.” She considers me a full second longer and shakes her head. “I can’t really blame him for taking the deal now that I see what I’m working with. You’re pretty.”
The way she says it makes it sound like it’s a bad thing. “Thanks?”
“This way.” Tink leads me deeper into the room and through another door that takes us into what I recognize as an employee dressing room. She stops in front of an empty locker. “This will be yours. We don’t use locks because nobody is dumb enough to steal from one of Hades’s people.” She opens the locker and pulls out a thick black leather collar. “We wear these while on shift.” She dips back into the locker and pulls out a thick green circular ring and I have a horrified moment of wondering if she’s going to demand I wedge it onto my cock, but she just snaps it into the hook at the front of the collar.
The one that looks like it attaches itself to a leash.
Just like that, I can picture it. Kneeling at his feet in this ridiculous fucking outfit with a chain attached to the collar, its leather handle dangling from his graceful fingers. My gut goes tight and I have to fight not to physically respond. It doesn’t seem to matter. Tink sees it. She gives me a sad little smile. “Welcome to the Underworld.”
Then she drags me along to training. In the next few hours, I get a crash course in BDSM, submissives, safe words, and what exactly is expected of me working here. The first couple of weeks will be observing and basically acting in a role similar to what I did back at my old job—serving drinks, working the front lounge. I’ll also be doing more hands-on training… with Hades.
I don’t know if I look forward to it or dread it, but I’m too nervous right now to know the difference.
Tink glances at her watch. “It’s time.” She surveys me. “No one will touch you without permission, but that won’t stop some of those assholes from messing with you verbally. Don’t play into it, because if you snap, Hades will punish you and he’ll do it publicly. Just keep your eyes down and mouth shut. And listen. We do a recap at the end of each night with the information gathered, so pay attention, even if you don’t recognize the players.”
It’s too much and too little all at the same time. I don’t know what I expected when I said yes to him, but this isn’t it. He’s throwing me in the deep end, and there isn’t a single person who will help me if I drown. Tink might feel a little bad, but honestly, I can’t get a good enough read on her to know for sure. She might just as easily shrug and move on to the next new recruit with the same amount of crankiness.
But as I fall into the familiar rhythms of taking drinks orders and moving through the tables and bar, things start to unwind for me. This is familiar. I know how to do this, even if it’s a relatively new skill. The rest of it will figure itself out, but I can get through tonight.
Or so I think, right up until I catch a familiar profile out of the corner of my eye.
I turn to find Meg standing near the bar. She’s wearing a pair of tailored slacks and a deep purple bra-like top that I can almost see through. Why is she here? She should be well on her way to freedom. Not haunting this place where I’m currently trapped.
Unless…
Unless she came for me?
My chest feels tight as she strides toward me on wickedly high heels. There’s no familiarity on her face, nothing to indicate her thoughts. The warmth she showed me in that apartment above the restaurant remains nowhere in evidence. This woman could be a stranger for the cold way she studies my body, lingering on my chest and cock before trailing down my legs.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t mean to speak. I really don’t. My intentions don’t seem to make a difference. “If he broke his word…”
“Hades never breaks his word,” she says absently. “I’m here because I want to be.” Meg tilts her head to the side, causing her hair to cascade over her shoulder. I want to run my fingers through it, to tug her face up to meet mine, but I know better. I still have to clench my fists at my side to keep myself from doing it.
“He wants to see you.” She turns and walks away, leaving me to follow in her footsteps.
As I do, my confusion hardens to something significantly uglier. I’m here because I want to be. She does whatever she wants to do. No one is forcing her into anything. That’s what her words translate to, before in my new suite and here on the floor. Several truths settle over me, each a jagged shard in my throat.
Hades isn’t forcing Meg to do anything. He didn’t force her to fuck me. He didn’t force her to her knees. He isn’t keeping her like some princess trapped in a tower. She consented to the entire thing. If she didn’t, then my deal would have set her free and she wouldn’t be walking through the lounge like a queen moving through her subjects.
He played me.
Meg played me.
By the time she leads me through a tall set of doors into a monochromatic gray office, I’m furious. I stop just inside the door. “You screwed me over.”
“I didn’t even know you were here until you’d already made the deal.” She keeps walking, moving to stand at the shoulder of the man sitting at the desk.
Hades steeples his fingers and watches me with deep, dark eyes behind the black frames of his glasses. He’s wearing his customary black-on-black suit, and I hate that I respond to him. To them. He leans forward as if only casually interested in this conversation. “Are you going back on your word?”
“Why shouldn’t I? You went back on yours.”
“Did I?” He still sounds so fucking distant, I can’t stand it. He glances at Meg. “I gave my word that you wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want to, love.”
Her mouth twists, but she smooths out her expression almost immediately. “I have my safe word for a reason.”
“I don’t respect many rules, but that one is sacred.” Now Hades focuses all his indomitable will on me. “Time for you to pick a safe word, little Hercules.”
Little Hercules. As if I’m not several inches taller and significantly heavier than his slim frame. Somehow, it doesn’t matter. Even across the room, even so furious and betrayed that I can barely draw a breath, I have to fight not to hit my knees for him.
I want to tell him to fuck off. That I didn’t sign up for this. That I never would have given him this power over me if I wasn’t stupidly playing the hero for a woman who wasn’t interested in being saved. In the end, all my assumptions don’t matter.