Playing With Spencer by Izaia Winter

Chapter Four

Turner

“Are you sure this is the place?” Simon rocked back on his heels as he looked up and down the street. “There’s no sign or anything.”

“I think so…?” I glanced down at my phone and tilted the screen toward Simon. “The map says we’ve arrived at our destination.”

We both looked up at the nondescript, brick building squished between a pizza place and a jazz bar. The white, stylized cross on the plain black door was the only indication we were in the right spot. I checked the address once more.

“This has to be it.”

“It looks creepy,” Simon said as he shifted closer to me as if I could protect him. “A club should look happy and welcoming. Not… this. Are you sure this place is legit? We’re not walking into a serial killer’s den, are we?”

“I’ve seen their monthly order forms and have talked to their lawyers,” I said, waving the stack of documents I held in my hands. “It’s legit. Maybe they want to be… discreet. You know, to keep the normies out.”

“Whatever you say.” Simon gestured toward the door like the gentleman he wasn’t. “You first.”

“Why do I have to go first?” We’d already established the place looked creepy. There was no way I was going first. “You’re the brave one. You go first.”

“Nope,” Simon said as he took an exaggerated step back. “This one is all on you.”

“Come on, be a pal.” I stuck out my bottom lip and gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. “Please.”

“Nope, not happening. No way.” Simon crossed his arms and planted his feet firmly on the ground.

“Fine.” Sighing, I turned back to the door. “Together?” I asked, holding out my hand for him to take.

“Okay.” Taking my hand, we both stared at the door, neither of us willing to make the first move.

“This is a little ridiculous—”

“Hush,” I said, interrupting Simon. “I’m working up to it.”

“Umm, excuse me?”

With two pitiful squeaks, we both jumped and turned at the deep voice behind us. The man was a giant. Not really, but he was a good eight to ten inches taller than both Simon and I. I had a split second to decide if I should yell ‘run’ and take off when the man smiled. His eyes, which had been terrifying only a second earlier, were warm and friendly. And his smile. I could practically hear Simon sigh beside me. The man’s smile was sweet and wholesome—just the kind Simon liked.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you guys. It’s just y’all both looked a little scared, and I was in that same spot not too long ago, so I thought I could help.”

“Oh.” I blinked as my thoughts came to a screeching halt and did a 180. “Umm….”

“Actually,” Simon said as he took a step forward. “Maybe you can. I’m Simon.”

I didn’t even have to look to know Simon had on his sex face. He was such a freaking flirt.

“We’re looking for The Church,” I blurted out before Simon distracted the man with his wily ways. “I have a meeting in a few minutes, and I’m not sure I’m in the right place,” I explained.

“You are,” the man replied. “The club isn’t open yet, but the door is unlocked. There’s an event tonight that’s about to start, so you can just walk in. Marcus will be at the front desk. He can direct you to where you need to be. And don’t worry about being a little late. I’m sure the guys won’t mind.”

“Thanks. I was so scared I was in the wrong place. This meeting is kind of a big deal for me.”

“Nope, you’re good,” he said, then looked at me as if making some connection. “This might sound a bit strange, but you wouldn’t happen to be Turner, would you?”

For a second, I wondered if I had a stalker. I was flattered because the man was gorgeous but still a little freaked out that he knew my name. “Yeah, I am. How did you know that?”

“I’m Elias,” he said, holding out his hand. “Foster has been talking nonstop about you and this deal for the last week. It’s all I’ve been hearing about. Plus, this meeting with you is the only meeting he has scheduled for the day.”

“Oh. That’s a lot better than what I was thinking,” I said, much to Elias’s obvious delight.

Relieved he wasn’t a creepy, stalker man, I shook his hand as I tried to remember if I’d heard his name mentioned before. And that’s when I saw it. Wrapped around his right wrist was a very familiar gold bracelet I distinctively remembered selling to Foster only a few months prior. This guy wasn’t some personal assistant or a random club employee. Elias was Foster’s submissive. His boy. And taken, very taken.

Wrapping my arm around Simon’s, I gently pulled him back and away from Elias. While Elias hadn’t given Simon the faintest bit of attention, my friend wasn’t the timid type. A no was a no, but until then, Simon viewed everyone as fair game. He was an equal opportunity lover. Man, woman, femboy, or catgirl—he didn’t care. And the last thing I needed was Foster finding my best friend flirting with his boy. I didn’t know if Foster was the jealous type, but I wasn’t willing to risk it.

“I was wondering when I’d get to meet you. Foster has mentioned you a few times. I was hoping he’d bring you by my store so I’d get a chance to meet you.” I ignored Simon’s attempts to get away from me as I dug my elbow into his side, hoping he’d get the idea.

With a laugh, Elias nodded. “I think he’s been keeping me away on purpose. He likes to surprise me.”

I laughed with him and tried to hide the blush rising to my cheeks. I’d sold toys to thousands of people, but it was still strange meeting the person those toys had been intended for.

“I was wondering where you were.”

Hearing a familiar voice, I looked back to find Foster leaning in the doorway, his eyes only for his boy. Similar to me in height and build, Foster was the definition of a boy next door. From a distance, he looked innocent with an edge of sophistication, but his eyes gave him away every time. They were intense and predatory—not to be f’ed with.

“I was on my way, but then I got distracted by these two,” Elias said in an attempt to defend himself. “I was only trying to help them out.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Turning to me, Foster smirked. “I knew getting the two of you together would be a bad idea. Look at the lot of you. Already distracting each other.”

I’d never been so grateful not to be on the other end of a stare. “He’s kind of terrifying,” I said to Elias without taking my eyes off Foster like he was a snake that would bite me as soon as I looked away.

“Yeah,” Elias sighed, the sound in no way saying he hated it.

With his smirk still firmly in place, Foster beckoned Elias to him with a finger.

Simon, having hidden himself behind me when Foster had arrived, leaned over my shoulder as Elias moved toward his Dom. “Thanks for the save, and you’re right: he really is terrifying.”

“I know, and you’re welcome,” I whispered back.

“They’re hot, though.”

Nodding in agreement, I watched as Foster wrapped an arm around the bigger man’s waist and used the hand he had buried in Elias’s hair to pull his head down for a kiss.

“Inside,” Foster ordered his boy as his hand slyly copped a feel of the other man’s ass. “I’ll come find you after our meeting is over.”

“Yes, sir.” A little dazed, Elias waved back at us as he stepped into the club. “It was nice meeting you both.”

“Same,” I said, returning his gesture as he disappeared through the door.

“And you’re late,” Foster said, turning his attention back to me.

Without thought, I pointed a finger at Simon. “It was his fault.”

Laughing, Foster finally looked at Simon. “Really?”

“What? No! It was not!” Simon’s mouth flapped like a fish as he darted his eyes between the two of us. “You couldn’t decide what shoes to wear,” he said, tattling on me.

“And then you lost your phone. It took us fifteen minutes to find it,” I said, taking him down with me.

Clutching his middle, Foster leaned back against the door as he laughed at us. “I was just kidding,” he said, his words a little hard to hear as he wheezed. “The Daddies are going to love you two.”

Realizing we sounded like two children arguing on the playground, I tried to stamp down my mortification. “I’m so sorry, Foster. That was so unprofessional—”

“It’s fine,” Foster said, stopping me before I could get going. “Being completely professional in our line of work is next to impossible. Or maybe the line between professional and unprofessional is just different. It doesn’t matter. You’re getting a full membership to the club. I’m sure at some point we’ll be seeing each other in… compromising positions. This is nothing. Besides, you sell me sex toys. There’s nothing professional about that.”

“Do I get a membership too?” Simon asked from behind me.

“No,” I said before Foster could answer. “You’re just here for moral support.”

“And to check out the club with you,” he added with a pout.

“Right.” I nodded in agreement. “Not to get free stuff,” I clarified.

“Fine,” he said with a huge sigh of disappointment. “You’re no fun.”

Still laughing at us, Foster shook his head and held open the door as he motioned us inside. “Alright, you two, get in here.”

Tugging on Simon’s arm, we followed him inside. I was pleasantly surprised to find a tastefully decorated lobby and a young man staring at us from behind a highly organized desk. There was nothing flashy or outright vulgar about the place. I’d seen pictures online of dungeons that looked more like vampire covens, but this was nice.

“This is Marcus,” Foster said as he introduced us to the man behind the counter. “Don’t tell him, but he’s what keeps this place running so smoothly. Marcus, this is Turner, our new toy supplier, and this is…” he paused as he stared at Simon. “I don’t know this one.”

“This is Simon,” I said, and thankfully, that was his cue to take over.

“Hi, I’m Simon. Turner’s mega-best friend and moral support. I’m notoriously clumsy, and I think I tried to flirt with your boyfriend outside.”

“Nice to meet you,” Foster said as he shook his hand. “And I don’t blame you. You have good taste, but you’re too submissive for him.”

“If you’re what he’s into, that is a definite yes.”

Shaking his head ruefully, Foster turned back to me. “I like your friend.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. When Simon had promised to be on his best behavior, I’d expected something a little more… restrained. I should have known better.

“The conference room is this way,” Foster said as he circled the front desk for the door behind it. “Carson would be here as well, but he’s a bit busy wrangling the littles at the moment. He said to give you his apologies. I’m sure you know how it is.”

Not knowing what to say in response, I shrugged and followed him through the door, down a short hallway, and into a small conference room. Taking a seat in one of the comfy office chairs, I focused on the various forms spread out across the table.

“Everything is ready to go. It’s everything we’ve already agreed to,” Foster stated as he passed me a pen. “We’re just here to finalize everything. Are you ready for this?”

“Yes. Just tell me where to sign,” I said as my confidence finally made its return. This I was sure of. The rest was all new territory.

After a summary of each page, Foster signed and dated each form before passing them to me to do the same. About thirty minutes later, we were done. I was officially the toy supplier for The Church.

“I’ll just go make photocopies of these for you and be right back.” Foster paused in the doorway. “I forgot to ask, but do y’all want anything while y’all wait? We have some snacks and water?”

“A water would be nice,” I replied while Simon answered with a quick, “Same for me.”

“Sure thing. I’ll be right back.”

“Turner,” Simon said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder once we were finally alone. “The big businessman. How does it feel?”

“Is there a word for being terrified and excited at the same time? Because I’m that.”

Simon scrunched up his face as he thought about it. “Horny?”

I couldn’t stop my snort at his unexpected answer. “Simon, stop it!”

“What? It’s true, though. Think about it,” he said as he defended his response. “When you’re about to get some, you get all excited but also a little scared and nervous because you want it to be good. And with all the kink stuff thrown in, things are bound to happen. Things you don’t expect, and that can be scary. But hot too.”

I paused for a second as I thought over his convoluted mess of words. “I hate how much sense that made.”

“Thank you,” Simon said as he leaned back in his chair, his triumph evident. “I try.”

“You’re still an idiot.”

“Mmm,” he hummed in the back of his throat as he shrugged. “You win some. You lose some.”

Giggling, I laid my head on his shoulder. “Thanks for being here with me.”

“I am great moral support,” he replied, laying his head on mine. “You should bring me along to more places. Plus, I want to see the club, so I’m on my best behavior. Just like I promised.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes as I sat up. “You tried flirting with the owner’s submissive and then told him about it. That is your best behavior?”

“Hey, at least I’m honest.”

“You’re not honest. You just word vomit when you’re excited. That what you say happens to be true is beside the point.”

“Well, it would’ve been weirder if I hadn’t said anything at all. Elias would have told Foster about it eventually. Then there would have been this awkward silence where everyone knows, but no one ever talks about it. Years from now, we’d all still be dancing around the one time I flirted with Foster’s boy. This way, everything is out in the open.”

I leaned back in my chair and stared into Simon’s eyes. “I love you, but you have a very strange brain.”

“I know. It’s one of my best features.” Simon fluttered his eyelashes at me as he preened. “And don’t act like you aren’t weird too. The reason we’re perfect together is that your brain is as strange as mine.”

“Umm, I don’t know what I’m interrupting, but I was told to deliver some water.”

Recognizing Carson’s voice from all the phone calls and meetings we’d already had, I twisted in my chair to find him standing in the doorway with two bottles of water in hand. “Hi, Carson. Foster said you were busy and couldn’t make it. Everything went smoothly, and it’s all sorted out.”

“Perfect.” Stepping into the room, Carson handed our drinks over. “I was a little worried you’d think I was having second thoughts if I wasn’t here.”

“Nope.” Remembering my manners this time, I gestured to Simon and introduced him. “Carson, this is Simon, my best friend. Simon, this is Carson. He’s Foster’s business partner.” I shook my head at the heat already forming in his eyes. “And he’s taken.”

Groaning, Simon thumped his head against the back of his chair. “All the good ones already are.”

Chuckling at Simon’s dramatics, Carson took a seat with us. “Don’t worry. There are plenty of fish at the club. I can even direct you toward a few if you want.”

“That would be a-ma-zing. I keep wasting all my flirting skills on people who aren’t available to appreciate them. For instance, Elias. And almost you.”

Carson smiled and sighed as he shook his head. “Elias?”

“Foster said I have good taste,” he said, lifting his chin with pride.

“Of course he did. Foster’s obsessed with his boy.” Turning to me, Carson jerked his chin toward Simon. “This one is a handful.”

“True,” I said, but Simon was already talking over me.

“Don’t be fooled by his cute face. Me and Turner are partners in crime. If I do something stupid, he’s right there with me. And I can guarantee that if he wasn’t crushing on this guy he met last week, he would have been all over Elias. It’s too bad Mr. Hot Chocolate Cake wasn’t kinky. Turner was heartbroken after ending things after one date. I told you seeing him wasn’t a good idea.”

I stared at Simon in horror as my personal life came spilling out of his mouth.

“Mr. Hot Chocolate Cake?” Carson asked with a wide grin.

Groaning, I thumped my head down on the table, a deep thud sounding through the room. “Why would you tell him all that?”

“Because it’s true,” Simon said to me before turning back to Carson. “That’s what we call him because he’s hot and likes to bake.”

“That’s what you call him,” I interjected, not giving away the fact I loved the name too. “I only started calling him that because you wouldn’t stop. I told you a million times that his name is Spencer.” I reached out and poked my finger into Simon’s side. “And Carson doesn’t need to know all this,” I said between clenched teeth.

“Spencer? And he bakes?” Carson asked, his face taking on a sharpened look, but Simon didn’t give me a chance to answer.

Simon clicked his tongue in disappointment as he clutched his side and slowly shook his head at me. “For shame, Turner. Didn’t we just talk about this? Secrets are unhealthy.”

“Who has secrets?” a new voice said as someone else entered the room. “I like secrets. Are we sharing?”

Turning in my chair, I watched as a cute femboy in pink shorts, a baby pink hoodie, mismatched blue and pink sneakers, and dark hair held back with bedazzled barrettes crossed the room and perched on Carson’s knee.

Sensing a new partner in crime, Simon grinned and leaned across the table. “I tried flirting with Elias when I first got here, but I didn’t realize he was with Foster. I was just telling Carson that Turner totally would have done it too if he wasn’t crushing on this vanilla guy he met last week. Apparently,” he said, drawing out the word, “telling people about Spencer is too much information to share. I’m Simon, by the way, and this is Turner.”

“Information that you just repeated,” I said with a groan as my cheeks blazed with fire. “Again. Stop it, or I’ll never bring you back here again.”

“Spencer?” The boy shared a look with Carson but dropped it when the man shook his head. Nodding in some silent agreement, the boy leaned back against Carson’s chest and focused on Simon. “Elias is great. Foster’s super lucky to have snagged him.”

“That I am,” Foster said as he sauntered back into the room. “And now that the Elias Fan Club has officially started, here are your copies of everything.”

Beyond embarrassed, the only thing I could do was take the folder he held out and apologize for everyone creeping on his boyfriend. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Y’all can only look while I get to touch,” Foster said smugly. “And speaking of touching, I’m going to go find my boy. Have a fun night, guys. I know I will.” With a saucy wink, he turned and left the room.

“And what are you doing in here?” Carson asked the boy sitting on his lap. “I thought I left you with the rest of the crazies.”

I couldn’t look away from them as they talked. They were the first little-Daddy couple I’d ever seen in real life. It felt strange being so close to something I wanted so badly but had never had.

“I can’t paint in these clothes, Daddy,” the boy replied with a pout. “I’ll ruin them.”

I felt my head snap up at his words. “Paint? What are you painting? I like painting,” I said, the word spewing from out of my mouth.

I absolutely loved to paint. It was my little kryptonite. And while Simon didn’t love it as much as I did, I could tell by the look on his face that he was interested as well.

“Rocks,” the boy replied. “Tonight is the monthly painting event for all the littles. You guys are more than welcome to join if you want.”

Painting and rocks? Was this heaven?

Reaching out, I clutched at Simon’s arm. “Can we?” I asked, silently pleading with him to say yes even though we’d agreed on no playing for the night. But this was painting! And rocks!

“Turner, we’re not dressed either. I’ve seen you paint. You’re messy,” he said, being the voice of reason for once. “We can come back next month, right?”

“Are you guys both littles?” Carson interrupted. “I mean, you don’t have to be to join the paint party. I was just asking… for reasons.”

Confused, Simon and I both nodded.

“Excellent.”

The boy sitting on Carson’s lap rolled his eyes. “Ignore him, or he’ll try to set you up with every single Mommy or Daddy he knows.”

“Are they hot?” Simon asked without hesitation.

“Some are,” Carson replied. “And some aren’t if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“I accept,” Simon added. “If you can’t tell, I’m a little desperate.” He laughed to himself. “Scratch that. I’m a desperate little.”

“Noted. And if you guys want to join in on the painting, we have a box full of gym shorts and t-shirts that we let people take from. You guys aren’t the only littles who have forgotten to bring extra clothes.”

“Are we doing this?” Simon asked me.

“Yes.” I stood up and clutched my papers to my chest.

Pushing the boy off his lap, Carson stood. “Then follow me, and we’ll get you both set up.”

The boy skipped out after his Daddy and turned around to walk backward while Simon and I obeyed. “I’m Emmie, by the way.”

“Turner,” I said, introducing myself in case he’d missed my name at the end of Simon’s speech.

“This is so exciting,” Emmie said as Carson ducked into a side office that doubled as a storage space. “I’m going to introduce you guys to everyone. This is so exciting,” he repeated with a squeal.

After Simon and I each grabbed a pair of shorts and a giant t-shirt from the box Carson showed us, the four of us formed a little conga line back down the hallway and into the lobby. But instead of joining the painting party, Simon and I had to fill out our membership forms and listen to a rather lengthy lecture. Marcus explained the rules then tagged us with various wristbands that outed our kinks to the rest of the club’s members. Simon and I compared our matching white, green, and baby blue bracelets.

“Is that it?” I asked Marcus as he tossed away our trash.

“That’s it,” he replied. “Have fun, guys.”

Trailing behind Emmie, I glanced around the room and was a little disappointed. There was no paint to be seen anywhere, just a boring nightclub.

“The locker rooms are through there,” Carson said as he stopped and pointed toward a set of nearby doors. “Emmie and I will wait here for you both and escort you guys to the schoolroom.”

Not needing to be told twice, Simon and I raced for the door, laughing as we practically climbed over each other to get to the first stall.

“First,” I yelled in victory as I slammed the door in his face.

“That’s not fair,” he yelled back.

Quickly stripping, I tugged on the shorts and laughed as the t-shirt practically swallowed my frame. Wadding up my clothes, I stepped out and picked the closest locker I could find that was empty. I shoved my documents and clothes inside as Simon joined me and placed his in next to mine.

“We look ridiculous,” I said as I got my first look at him. “I love it.”

“Me too.” He swished back and forth, the too-large shirt more like a dress than anything else. Not exactly clubwear, but it was the best.

“Let’s go.” Snagging Simon’s hand, we giggled and ran out of the locker rooms. “We’re ready,” I said as we stopped before the couple.

“It’s this way,” Emmie said as he pulled Carson along with him.

Resuming our line, I ignored everything around me. I didn’t care where the bar was or what was in the various rooms lining the hallway. I already had a vague idea from all the order forms I’d poured over. Nothing was more important than getting to the schoolroom and painting some rocks.

We stopped in front of a door that someone had decorated with letters and numbers and all things school-related. Emmie waited for Carson to open the door then led our party inside. Glancing around, I counted about twenty or so people sitting around different tables with rocks and paint everywhere. There was upbeat pop music being piped into the room and a table full of snacks and drinks. It was pure heaven.

“Come sit over here,” Emmie said as he darted between the tables and stopped next to one with two boys already elbow deep in paint. “This is Red and Ollie,” he said as he pointed toward each boy. “They’re really, really nice. Guys, this is Turner and Simon. They’re new so be nice. And I’ll be right back. I need to change. Bye.” With a hop and a giggle, Emmie stepped back to return to Carson’s side.

But something was still nagging at me, and I couldn’t let him go until I’d asked.

“Wait,” I said, stopping Emmie before he could escape. Moving away from the table, I lowered my voice. “Earlier, when Simon was vomiting my life story to anyone who would listen, both you and Carson reacted to Spencer’s name? I was just wondering what that was all about. Do you know him or something? Does he come here?”

Emmie smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, we’re close friends with a Spencer, but it’s a semi-common name. The odds your Spencer and ours are one and the same are astronomically low. And you said your Spencer is vanilla. The Spencer I know is as kinky as it gets. He doesn’t date vanilla people at all, and I have a feeling you don’t exactly go around telling everyone about your little side.” Tilting his head, Emmie smiled as he tapped a finger against his lips. “You know, you and our Spencer would make a cute couple. Maybe you should ditch your Spencer and date ours. He’s single and perfect. I could introduce the two of you.”

I blushed and stammered as I backed away. “That’s okay. I think I’m still stuck on the first one.”

“Okay,” Emmie said with a beaming smile. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Sure.” Letting him go, I sat down at the table with Simon who was already neck-deep in conversation with the other two boys.

“Hi,” I said, giving the two strangers a small wave.

“Hello,” they both echoed.

“Is this your first time here?” Ollie asked, his tongue sticking out as he dabbed a blob of yellow onto his rock.

“Yeah.” Picking up a rock I thought looked a lot like a pickle, I grabbed a palette, a few brushes, and a couple of bottles of acrylic paint. “We only planned on hanging out tonight, but then Emmie said something about painting, and we were both in.”

Red nodded as he painted a stripe of orange across his rock. “This place is great. I know a few littles online, and none of them have clubs as accepting of littles as this one. I think Carson’s a huge part of that.” Tilting his head, Red lifted his rock and showed it to me. “What does this look like to you?”

“A candy corn?” Simon said before I could.

“Excellent.” Setting it down, Red reached for another rock. “And now for his….” He studied its shape. “Whale friend.”

Having never been little in a public setting, I expected the experience to feel strange at first, but it was surprisingly easy. Glancing about the room, I caught the attention of several people—bigs and littles alike—and received waves and smiles in return. There were littles younger than me that painted with their hands and a few middles that were begrudgingly having fun.

I was in little paradise, yet thoughts of Spencer wouldn’t stop intruding. Especially since doubts continually plagued my mind. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if Spencer could accept me. But I was a coward. It was a week to the day since our perfect date, and I still hadn’t mustered the nerve to reach out to him.

Maybe he could be the Daddy of my dreams if I just let him try. And now that I knew there was a Spencer around the club, I couldn’t help but wish my Spencer and theirs were the same person. It wasn’t that hard to imagine Spencer chatting with the other adults that milled about the room. He was the kind of person others gravitated toward, and a BDSM club would be no different. His smile, charming personality, and confidence would quickly win people over. It was a fantasy I couldn’t stop replaying in my head. The only thing holding me back was my adult side picturing the look of disgust on his face when I explained everything to him. My identity as a little was something vital and fragile inside of myself, and exposing it to ridicule and contempt was something I would never do.

No, I thought as I picked up my paintbrush and focused on my pickle, those are problems for another time. Like next week. When I’m a little less of a chicken. Maybe.

“Are you dry?” I asked my rock as I touched the side. “Nope,” I answered as I wiped the green paint staining my finger on my shirt. Too impatient to wait, I added a few light green streaks down the length. Fudging it a bit here and a bit there, I tilted my head to the side as I stared at it.

“Something’s not right.” Elbowing Simon, I showed him my rock. “What’s missing from my pickle? It looks like a watermelon.”

Simon gave my rock a serious look. “The bumpy bits,” he said, using his finger to demonstrate the shape in the air.

“Right.” I put my rock down and set about mixing the perfect, bumpy green.

“And what are you painting, Sunshine?”

Hearing a new voice, I lifted my head from my pickle to find a handsome stranger bending over Ollie.

“It’s a sunflower, Daddy,” he said, picking up his rock so his Daddy could have a better view.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s for you,” Ollie said as he carefully set it back down.

“Thank you, baby,” the man said as he dropped a quick kiss to Ollie’s head. “I love it.”

Smiling at how cute the two men were, I cleaned off my brush and reached for another bottle of green paint. Suddenly, a masculine arm was crossing into my line of vision as a stranger planted his hand on the table next to rock. Aware of a large body looming over me, I froze in place.

Carson and Foster had assured me that the club was safe and that any unwanted attention was heavily frowned upon. And this was most definitely unwanted. I looked around the table and waited for someone to speak up, but silence dominated our small group. Anxiety rising the longer the man stood over me, I turned to Simon for help. While submissive, Simon wasn’t afraid of confrontation like I was and had bailed me out of sticky situations more times than I cared to admit. But one look at his face, and I knew something was different about this time. Simon was a picture of pure, shocked disbelief.

Seeing no help from him, I tensed to bolt just as fingers lightly caressed the back of my neck, sending my hair up on end. And then he spoke. “Is this that something you weren’t sure how to talk to me about?”

Jolting forward as I knew his voice, I whipped my head around and met familiar, chocolate eyes. “Spencer?”

Lifting the hand that had just so casually stroked my skin, he swiped a finger across my cheek and studied the streak of green paint on his finger. “Are you having fun, Turner?”