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hair color, all I saw was the familiar slender frame. It was hard to disguise a
backside that you’d striped with a riding crop.
    The man with him was exactly who I’d expected. Good to know.
    “Showtime,” I murmured.
    “Found him?” Jeremiah leaned in to whisper his question, and
his breath tickled against my cheek. I turned to face him and our gazes locked
for a long moment.
    “Put your fucking eyes down, boy.”
    “Yes, Sir.” Jeremiah’s response was immediate and damn if my
dick didn’t notice. Turning my back on my young assistant, I scanned the room
looking for Franklin and worked at shoring up my determined indifference. I
sternly reminded myself that these scenes, the smells, the public sex, were not
for me tonight. For fuck’s sake…this was a cover story designed to draw in our
target not an actual training session for the boy. Fuck. For Jeremiah.
    Franklin stood near the bar, but pressed up against the
wall, observing the crowd. There was no sign of his companion.
    The next thirty minutes were the most critical part of our
strategy. Would Franklin risk discovery by doing a scene with me? We‘d decided
to make it nearly impossible to turn down, but I was worried about putting
Jeremiah in over his head. I thought about making a last minute change—it would
be simple to walk over to Franklin and with some covert prodding from my thirty-eight,
convince him to leave the room with me.
    I stopped short of the bar and pulled Jeremiah into my arms so
that his back was against my front, my hands on his hips. As we swayed to the
music, I rapidly whispered a review of our plan. Apparently Jeremiah thought it
was a better idea to get into the mood of our little role-play, and he ground
his ass back against my aching dick. The little shit. Of course, I knew a lot
of tricks that just might send the boy running. I traced one hand over the mesh
front of his shirt and slipped the other inside the tight leather shorts. With
a quick twist of his nipple and a tight grip on his balls, I supported Jeremiah
as his knees gave way.
    “Oh fuck.” The moan was hot and Jeremiah’s chest rose and
fell rapidly under my hand. So much for pretending.
    There was no way Franklin could avoid spotting us from where
he stood.
    “No coming until I say so, boy,” I growled over his
shoulder. I was loud enough to be heard too…as I’d said, it was show time.
    “Master, may we have a third tonight? Will you teach me?”
    It wasn’t the line he was supposed to say, but as improv, it
wasn’t bad. I stared down at him, gauging his interest and ability in acting
and realized I had severely underestimated this man. His lack of experience in
BDSM did not translate to stupid. I should’ve known that Archer had selected
the applicants carefully. When we were done I was going to go back and pull out
Jeremiah’s application and study it more carefully.
    “Hmm…might do you good to see how a well-trained sub behaves.
If I can find me the right submissive…” I looked around, as if considering
several options. “I want him,” I said, pointing toward Franklin. “Get him to
come with us for a scene and I might let you come tonight. Otherwise I’ll bind
your balls until tomorrow.”
    Jeremiah smiled and the heat in his look left me breathing a
little harder. I bet the little fucker was an actor. He went up on his toes and
pressed a quick kiss against my lips before turning away. Then Jeremiah, who
hadn’t displayed a hint of anything slightly feminine all week, bent his elbows,
relaxed his wrists, and positively swished his hips when he walked. I watched
as he closed the distance to Franklin and noticed several others turning to
watch him as well. Where the fuck had that come from?
    As they spoke, Franklin shook his head at the first
question…whether anyone would be waiting if he went to a private party upstairs.
Franklin had dressed for clubbing, and swayed slightly to the music as they
spoke. Jeremiah danced his fingers up the