Black Light: Roulette Rematch

 

Hauling in a deep breath, Kacy started down the steps, following the line of people into Black Light. The guard was friendly and polite, and it took no more than a minute or two for her to check in, get a locker, and deposit her phone and purse.

The sheer opulence of the place never failed to astonish her, even though she’d only been once.

Tables loaded with appetizers and snacks waited, including bottled water and soft drinks nestled in ice. Her stomach growled, making her realize she should probably eat something before she had to go up on stage and spin that wheel. Grabbing a plate, she loaded it with food, then found an unoccupied section of wall near the theater doors to eat.

She nearly moaned in pleasure when she bit into a mini beef Wellington. The succulent bit of rare prime rib surrounded in flaky pastry melted in her mouth, making her wish she had the nerve to load the whole tray into the back of her car for later.

After setting her empty plate in a bus pan, she dropped one of her last precious dollars in the tip jar on the bar, then freshened up in the bathroom. As she was about to exit the stall, two women entered and started talking.

“Did you see Jafari Laurent?”

“I don’t know who that is. Should I?”

“Yeah, the hot as fuck black dom with the sexy accent. He’s a sadist and likes needle play. Very high protocol, but he’s good if that’s what you’re into. I’ve seen him play a few times.”

Kacy laid a hand on her chest, sure the women could hear her heart thundering, then swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. He’d never told her his last name, but his first name clicked with her fragmented memory.

Was it possible her dream dom was actually here? How many people could there be who matched that description?

Of course, this was Los Angeles, but still…

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about now. He’s old, but damn, the man is fine. I’d totally scene with him.”

“Did you not hear me say sadist and needle play?”

The door shut behind them, cutting off their conversation.

Her fingers tightening on the knob, Kacy exited the stall, then washed her hands, forgetting all about her intention to beg the Cartwright-Davidsons for a job.

“Jafari Laurent.” The syllables sounded like silk and sex, damp cotton sheets and sultry nights. It was a mysterious, slightly dangerous name, tasting of sin and passion.

Her dream dom wasn’t old. He was seasoned, smart, and experienced. Neither of the women said he’d be participating in Roulette, and the pang of disappointment surprised her. She grimaced at herself in the mirror, then let out a breath. She should probably try to catch him at some point and apologize, but the thought of telling him why she’d run was too embarrassing. Anyway, he was probably with a date for Roulette. He was too gorgeous to be single for long.

She almost wished she’d let him kiss her.

Damn. Why did she have to be such a freak?