“I’m going to find a man tonight.” Renard James strode into the foyer of Boys Club and decided. He’d wasted so much time trying to find the right man that he’d managed to push most possible suitors away. He’d been told he was too picky. So what? At his time of life, he could be. Others said he was too snobby. Was that terrible? He had money and access that he liked to use. If he didn’t want to use it, then he didn’t. Why should he have to make excuses for being selective?

He nodded to Andre at the front desk. “How’s things tonight?” He swiped his card in the reader. “What’s playing?”

“Mr. James.” Andre closed his book and folded his hands on the cover. “Well, we have a scene in room four involving a threesome, a scene in room ten that’s a young man in bondage and four subs in room sixteen looking for masters. What would you like to do tonight?”

“I’d like to watch the bondage scene.” He doubted either man would be what he was looking for, but there was no harm in observing.

“Very well. I’ll let them know there will be an observer,” Andre said. “They won’t see you, but you’ll be able to watch them.”

“Perfect.” He preferred that. Men tended to see him as a chance to move up in the world, but he wasn’t just a billionaire. He was a man who wanted love. He wasn’t just a piggy bank.

Then again, if the right man came along, he might be just that. He wanted someone to spoil. But if that person existed, then they’d love him first and the money would be extra.

“Here’s the code for room ten. Go into the viewing section and make yourself comfortable. If you decide you’d like to take part or you want to interrupt the scene, there’s a button on the armrest.” Andre nodded to Renard. “The code is now on your phone.”

“Thank you. Always a pleasure to deal with you.” He wasn’t great at conversation. His former boyfriends had always needled him on his inability to converse, but he liked watching. Being quiet was his means of figuring people out. If he could watch, discern and make a choice that way, he felt better about the situation. Was it a matter of control? Yes. He hated leaving things to chance.

As he headed down the hallway, he noticed a friend coming toward him. Damn it. He wasn’t in the mood to chat.

Angelo Dawkins rushed up to him. “You’re here.”

“I am.” He hadn’t realized how lonely he was until he saw Angelo. Angelo could be a pain in the ass and too chatty for his liking, but he was a nice guy. “You’re here, too.”

“Well, there are plenty of hot guys here and I want in.” Angelo pumped Renard’s hand. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“Not exactly.”

“There are great guys, good sex and you can have as much as you want from those who want to cough it up,” Angelo said. “And I’m ready for every one of those men who want to.”

“I didn’t realize it was a thing.” That sounded ridiculous. “Some of the guys just peacock.”

“If that’s your thing.” Angelo let go and shrugged. “I’m not much for watching. I want to jump in the middle.”

“What if they don’t want you to?”

“That’s bullshit. They’re all here to do a job,” Angelo said. “I expect them to do that job.”

“Entertaining you?”

“Precisely.” Angelo wriggled his brows.

“You’re messed up.” But that was Angelo. He had more money than God, more attitude than anyone should have and the notion that everyone owed him.

“Are you going to find someone for a hookup?” Angelo asked. “Or are you just looking?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”

“Did you want to hook up with me?” Angelo asked. “We haven’t, but there’s always time for a first.”

“No.” He wasn’t interested in being with Angelo. Never had been.

“Your loss.” Angelo shrugged, then started away. “Oh well.”

“Yeah.” Rolling his eyes, he headed the rest of the way down the corridor to room ten, where he withdrew his phone from his breast pocket and retrieved the code, then tapped the numbers on the keypad. The handle clicked and he turned the knob. He ventured into the room and gave himself a moment to adjust to the dim light.

Renard settled on the plush leather chair and caressed the arm to seek out the keypad. He wasn’t ready to jump in yet, but he wanted to be prepared just in case.

The curtain opened and he crossed his legs as he took in the view. The scene hadn’t started yet and a young man with jet-black hair knelt on the floor with his hands behind his back and nothing on but a G-string. He’d bowed his head, so Renard had no idea what he looked like, but the rest of him wasn’t too bad. Trim, muscled, but not huge. He appeared young, too. Renard wanted him to lift his head so he could see the man’s face.

The master strode into the room. Where the young man wore so little, the master was clad in leather pants, black boots and a black muscle shirt. The cording of his arms bulged when he moved, and he wore a pair of dark sunglasses. He exuded control and strength, but he didn’t captivate Renard in the same way the young man did.

The master strode around the sub, then threaded his fingers into his hair and yanked his head back.

The move allowed Renard to see the sub’s face. Angular cheeks, thick lashes, defined chin and a kissable mouth. Renard leaned forward in his chair.

“Wow,” Renard murmured. He’d seen plenty of pretty men, but this one was very pretty. There was little chance he and the sub could have a good time together. Most likely this man wanted to be kept and loved. He shook his head and sat back in his chair. He wasn’t going to get wrapped up in the sub. Just look. That was enough.

The master let go of the sub’s hair, then patted his face. “I want you on your feet. Don’t you dare look at me.”

Renard listened to the one-sided conversation.

“Boy.” The master smacked the sub on the ass as he stood. “Tell me your safe word.”

At least he’d asked. Renard wasn’t sure he liked this scene. Not because he wasn’t entranced with the sub, but he wasn’t a fan of how the master treated him.

The sub stood, clasped his hands behind his back then bowed his head. He wore no shoes and wasn’t hard, either. Didn’t he like this scene?

The master snapped a collar around the sub’s throat. “Safe word?”

“Blue,” the sub replied.

“Good boy.” The master added a chain to the collar, then yanked the leash. He tugged the boy across the room to the cross. “Arms.”

Renard frowned. Some masters could be quite terse, and he had no problem with a terse master dealing with a bratty sub, but this sub seemed almost beaten down. Like he’d done this too many times.

The master shackled the sub to the cross with his back to Renard. “I don’t like these.” He yanked the G-string down, exposing the sub’s ass. “You know better than to wear anything in my presence.”

If the sub answered, Renard didn’t hear him. He gripped the arms of the chair and uncrossed his legs. He leaned forward, paying attention to the sub. Part of him wasn’t sure he wanted the scene to end. He liked the view. The sub was handsome. But part of him wanted to step in and save the sub. Even if the man was a brat and deserved the coming spanking or whatever, that didn’t mean the master had to be cruel.

The master tossed the G-string out of the way. “Better.” He walked away from the sub, leaving him shackled to the cross.

The man strode across the room to the wall of toys, then selected a crop from the variety. He slapped the crop on his hand a few times and the crack echoed in the room.

Renard jumped at the sound and took extra notice. The crop could be something painful or just loud, depending on how the master used it.

The sub flexed his back and adjusted his hands in the shackles. He widened his stance and his cock bobbed between his legs.

Renard noted the sub’s flaccid dick. He still wasn’t getting off on the scene?

The master slapped the crop on his hand again. “You’ve been naughty today. How have you been naughty?”

The sub shivered. “I wanted to see you and didn’t tell you.”

Renard somehow doubted that. This had to be scripted.

“Naughty. You need to tell me you want me.” The master trailed the crop down the sub’s back. “How much punishment do you need?”

“So much, sir.” The sub bowed his head. “I’ve been terrible.”

Renard had his doubts again. He didn’t believe this sub could be terrible. He didn’t strike Renard as a brat.

“Good boy.” He smacked the sub hard on the ass. A bright red streak blossomed on his cheeks. The master spanked the sub again, adding another red mark. “I want you to count how many times.”

“Yes, sir.” The sub flexed his hands and widened his stance even more. He didn’t argue and instead accepted each blow. “One, two.”

“More.” He spanked the sub four more times, until his entire ass was red, then along the sub’s back on his shoulders, then the ass again.

“Three, four, five, six…seven, eight, nine.” The sub’s voice cracked, then he balled his hands tight. “Ten.”

“Good boy.” The master rubbed the crop along the sub’s reddened skin. “Do you know you’re being watched?”

So they knew? He thought that was what Andre had said, but now he had confirmation.

“I know,” the sub replied. “It makes me hot.”

Renard knew that wasn’t the truth. If being watched made the sub hot, then he’d be erect.

The master swatted him hard with his bare hand. “Good. He’s watching you and he’s out there stroking himself. He’s seeing you and jerking the fuck off on the other side of the glass. Do you like that?” he asked. “Do you want him doing that? Want to let him know you’re hot for him?”

Renard sighed. He wasn’t getting into this scene. Not one bit. He’d rather stop this than keep watching. The sub deserved better and he wasn’t getting turned on. Was anyone?

Renard left his seat, then exited the room. There might be someone else watching them for all he knew, someone who might be getting off on the scene. Not him. He went straight to the front desk.

Andre looked up from his book, then frowned. “You’re out already? You just went in.”

“I did.” He rested his hands on the front desk. He’d made a decision when he’d first started coming to Boys Club that he wasn’t going to pick anyone up. Wasn’t going to fill out an ad or demand a boy. He wanted someone, but he liked being detached.

Until tonight.

He wasn’t sure what had changed within him, but seeing that boy made his heart hurt. That scene wasn’t good.

“How can I help you?” Andre asked. “Mr. James?”

He’d forgotten himself for a moment. “Sorry. I’d like to fill out an ad.”

“You would?” Andre fumbled with the book, then opened it to one of the pages. “Surely. What would you like to say?”

He cleared his throat. “Who was that boy I was watching in that room?”

“Him?” Andre tipped his head. “That’s Cally Boy.”

“That’s who I want.” He pointed to the book. “I don’t care how you write it up, but I want him. Tonight.”

“What?” Andre frowned. “You could just stop the scene and take him.”

“No, I don’t want to interrupt that and seem like a savior. I want you to pair me with him. If he sees me as breaking that up, even though I want to, it won’t work. He’ll think I’ll save him from everything.”

“But you will. When you find someone that attracts you, you’re willing to do a lot to keep them safe.” Andre plucked a pencil from the holder. “So, what do you want your ad to say?”

“I want Cally Boy.” What else did he have to say? He wanted a specific person. “Now.”

“I see.” Andre gave him a sideways glance. “No one else?”

“No.” Jesus Christ. He’d spent enough money in this damn club that he swore he deserved some loyalty in return. “Well?”

“I have to write something up. I can’t simply put you want Cally Boy. You want a young man, black hair, sweet, obedient.”

Why was this so hard? “Fine. I want a young man with black hair, willing to sub for me, must be sweet, must be smart and goes by the name of Cally Boy. Is that good enough for you?” His patience thinned. “Or do I need more?”

“No, that’s good enough.” Andre blushed. “We’ve had some direct ads, but this one is very direct.”

“Very good.” To be honest, he didn’t give a shit. “How long will this take?”

“You’ve just submitted the ad, so it will be a few moments. I have to interrupt the scene and he still has to agree,” Andre said. “How should I put this on your end? What relationship to him are you looking for? Master/sub? Plaything? Man for the evening?”

He hadn’t considered that. What did he want Cally Boy for? “Sugar daddy seeking a young man to share his life and be spoiled, but also must be a sub, sweet and interested in being with me. Goes by the name of Cally Boy.”

“Clunky, but it works.” Andre jotted the ad down. “Why don’t you wait here in the foyer? Should only take a few moments. Yes?”

“Sure.” He’d wear a hole in the floor pacing while he waited. He jammed his hands into his pockets, then watched Andre dart away from the desk.

He should’ve stepped in and stopped that scene. Should’ve made the master unlock the sub and stayed with him. Renard shook his head. It wasn’t good form to interrupt a scene.

But he couldn’t wait for Andre. He rushed down the corridor to room ten and punched in the code. The door opened and he hurried into the darkened space. The curtain was still open, but the scene was done. The sub sat on the floor with his legs folded beneath him. He had his head bowed and his wrists were red.

Renard checked the keypad on the chair, then pressed the button to allow him into the adjacent room.

The sub snapped his attention to Renard and his eyes widened. “Who are you?”

“The one who wants to take you home.” Renard hauled Cally Boy to his feet. “Your name is Cally Boy?” He let go and shrugged out of his sport coat.

Cally Boy frowned. “It’s actually Callum.”

“Good. Callum, put this on. You’re freezing.” He helped Callum into the garment. “You weren’t having fun in that scene, were you?”

Callum allowed Renard to dress him, but didn’t speak right away. “I… How did you know?”

“You weren’t erect.” He tugged the coat closed. “Warm up.”

Callum stared at him. “No one noticed.”

“They weren’t looking hard enough. I was.” He guided Callum from the room to the dark viewing space. “You don’t have to take part in those scenes any longer.”

“I don’t?” Callum shook his head. “I have to get paid.”

“By faking it?”

“Most people don’t care.” Callum inched his shoulder up in a shrug. “Not until you.”

“How old are you?” He guided Callum to the plush chair. “Can you sit? Or is your ass too sore? Did he rub cream onto you?”

Callum stood mutely beside the chair.

“I’ll assume he didn’t and it’s sore. I’ll take care of you.” Renard strode back into the bondage room and rummaged through the drawers for a tube of cooling ointment. When he returned to the viewing space, Andre stood beside Callum.

“You beat me here.” Andre clicked his tongue. “And you’re taking charge.”

“I am. What now?” He’d connected with Callum and wasn’t in any mood to let the young man return to the ranks at Boys Club.

“The next step is to let him know you’ve put in an ad for him.” Andre faced Callum. “Cally Boy, you’ve been requested. Sugar daddy seeking a young man for scenes, but also to be kept and treasured.”

It wasn’t the exact wording from the ad, but Renard didn’t care. The words were enough. “Well?”

Callum swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “The one who wants to save me wasn’t kidding. You really want to save me?”

“Yes, I do.” He met Callum’s gaze. “What do you think?”

Callum held the coat tight to his body. “I think I’d like to give this a try.”

Thank fucking God.