It was just after eight o’clock in the night when Malcolm Powers pulled up to the entrance of the secured private parking lot situated in the back of his B.D.S.M club, Club Ecstasy. He didn’t have to enter any security codes to gain entry, as the motion sensors had been programmed to recognize his personal vehicle. When his black Mercedes-Maybach Exelero got within eight feet of the gates, they automatically opened. Impatiently he guided his sleek car into the parking lot and to the space marked RESERVED FOR OWNER. It was the closest spot to the entrance.
He couldn’t wait to get inside and unwind. He’d been up since three o’clock that morning ironing out some new deals and he’d had a day from hell. Some of his shipments had been delayed due to a global fuel shortage. His biggest client had not been pleased about the delay. This meant, he’d had ruffled feathers to soothe. Meanwhile, his biggest competitor attempted to use the opportunity to poach his customer.
In this part of the southern hemisphere, he was referred to as a king owing to his wealth and power. But with such power, came enemies. His enemy, aka his main competitor was currently making a play for his throne. He also had a new state prosecutor gunning to put him behind bars for his illegal activities. All in all, his day had been a juggling act and now it was time for play. That was why he had driven himself. During his regular business hours, his driver transported him everywhere. But when he engaged in his extra-curriculum activities including visiting the club, he drove himself so he could leave at will without waiting for his driver to collect him. But more importantly, he drove himself so there wasn’t any one present who could potentially be a witness to his less than legal dealings.
As he put his car in park, he noticed that most of the other reserved spaces were occupied. He had a full house tonight. Despite it being a Sunday night, he’d expected a full turn out from his partners and VIPs. Judging by the vehicles, they hadn’t disappointed him. He couldn’t say who exactly had turned out, since he refrained from ever putting marking the spaces for anyone specifically. He did not want to announce to everyone who exactly was parked where. The types of people he dealt with, their anonymity were paramount.
Grabbing his tablet and cell phone, he climbed from the car and made his way to the back entrance, where a scan of his retinas would gain him access to the building. However, after taking only a few steps, a man [and he used that term in the most loose possible sense] suddenly pushed his way in front of him, forcing him to take a hasty step backward or collide with him, something he evidently had no issue with.
He gave him a perfunctory once-over and cursed, ‘I don’t have time for this s**t”.
The person was clad in black leather that clung to his body. There was a sultry invitation in his blue eyes, and Malcolm immediately knew why he was there. It was not the first time he would be propositioned, but it was the first time in the parking lot of his club. He did not take lightly to the invasion of his privacy.
“Mr. Powers,” the man squealed in an unnaturally high pitched voice, reaching out to presumably touch Malcolm.
Malcolm side stepped his grasped. Glowering, he said “you’re not supposed to be back here. Can’t you read? There are signs posted everywhere. If you leave now, I will not call security.”
Ignoring the reprieve given to him by Malcolm, the man batted his heavily mascaraed eye lashes and pouted his lips. “I was hoping you’d overlook the trespassing issue for a chance of having my company tonight,” he said breathily. “I’m very accommodating… and flexible.”
His look informed Malcolm that he was willing to drop to his knees right there on the pavement and suck him off if he so desired. Malcolm did not even consider the silent offer. He was too busy fuming over the fact someone had managed to breach his security.
FUCK.
He really didn’t need this s**t tonight. What he needed was a glass of good scotch right about now.
The only way he could have gotten in was if someone had let him in. And when he found out who had broken the rules, there would be hell to pay. As soon as he got to his private quarters, he’d review the surveillance footage to determine just how this man had gotten past his security.
He prided himself on impenetrable security. It was the hallmark of his business. The fact that this man had gotten the jump on him in a place he should not have been able to access made a mockery of the top notch security Malcolm boasted of having.
“Look bozo. I don’t have time for this so I suggest you crawl back the way you came before I lose my patience,” he said in an icy tone.
He immediately powered on the earpiece he’d inserted in his ear before exiting his vehicle. Once on, it would connect him to all his employees and allow him to access in real time all the activity going on in the club. His earpiece not only allowed his employees to reach him remotely if they had an emergency, it also enabled him to give instructions remotely. He utilized this feature by barking a quick question to his lieutenants.
“Why am I being accosted in my own parking lot?”
The man’s eyes widened in alarm and he took an involuntary step back, after hearing Malcolm’s words. “I was not accosting you. I was propositioning you and the fact you don’t know that means I’m not doing it right. So why don’t we start over?” The man suggested, stretching out his hand to shake Malcolm’s. “I’m Jean Pierre. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he purred.
“I don’t give a f**k who you are. You should not be here and in a moment you will learn why,” Malcolm stated as a matter of fact.
“What are you going to do to me? I only want the chance to please you. You’re a very handsome man, Mr. Powers and your reputation precedes you. Give me one chance to show you what I can do, and you won’t be disappointed.”
Malcolm shook his head. The man just didn’t get it. The chase was part of the appeal for him. Having someone simply throw themselves at him was a major turn off. He didn't like anything to be handed to him. He felt more pleasure taking what he wanted. “I’m already disappointed. You’re wasting my time. Nobody likes stale, limp meat. You do not belong here.”
Suddenly, the door burst open, and two of his lieutenants ran toward Malcolm, tense, alert and guns drawn. Noticing who it was accosting their boss, they holstered their guns.
“What’s going on, boss?” Sinclair asked.
Malcolm pointed at the now enraged looking man.
“Escort him out. NOW! AND if anyone and I mean anyone, ANYONE gets into this lot who doesn’t have clearance, let’s just say you won’t like my reaction. Someone should be manning the surveillance cameras at all f*****g times.”
“You don’t know what you’re passing up,” the man hissed, his fingers curling into fists. “I would have rocked your world.”
“Oh, I know exactly what I’m passing on,” he drawled. “And I couldn’t be any less interested in trash who throws himself at me rather than in the garbage where you belong. How can you please me when the very sight of you disgusts me to point where I want to throw up?”
He launched himself at Malcolm, intent on punching him in his face or perhaps scratching his eyes out. Malcolm wasn’t sure which.
However, Anderson immediately stepped between him and Malcolm, and Sinclair grabbed him by the jeweled dog collar he was wearing and began dragging him effortlessly to the exit. Humiliated, the man shrieked his outrage and began kicking and thrashing, trying to claw Sinclair’s hand free from his collar.
“f**k,” Sinclair bit out. “Get a grip and stop making a fool of yourself. Mr. Powers does not want you. The moment you invaded his privacy without permission sealed your fate. He approaches his playthings, not the other way around. So consider yourself lucky, he’s letting you go with only a warning this time. Don’t let there be another time. It won’t end so nicely.”
“Jerk,” he threw out at Malcolm as Sinclair hauled him to the gate.
As he walked, Anderson radioed for a car to pull to the gate immediately to get rid of “some trash,” which only made the man screech louder in indignation.