Boston Avant-Garde 4: Encore by Kaitlin Maitland Read Free Book Online Page A

Suri’s soft skin and the muscular expanse of Jericho’s torso had the power to make Dante’s cock sit up and beg for more. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew last night should have been a fling. So why couldn’t he let it go?
    The memory of Suri on her knees between him and Jericho made Dante want to beg for a repeat performance. He and Jericho had locked gazes over her back, knowing that she created a bond between them. With Jericho’s thick cock between her lips, and Dante’s fully seated in her wet pussy, Suri’s passion had shaken something loose inside them both. But the sudden intimacy had made Dante uncomfortable, something he was beginning to think Jericho felt as well.
    For a decade, Dante had held firm to his personal policy of staying away from his employees. It had kept him out of trouble. He didn’t get up close and personal with the dancers, the dealers, the bartenders, or even the security staff. His friendship with Jericho was the only exception, but that was different. He and Jericho had history, and they ran a business together. Asylum was a lucrative operation, more so than most people realized. Thinking with their dicks and not their brains could screw things up in the permanent sense. And that they did not need.
    A soft knock brought Dante back to the present. “Mr. Torres?”
    The “mister” bothered Dante. There was no room for formality between the two of them. “You can come in.” When Suri had started talking about threesomes the night before, Dante had been certain it was time to expand the boundaries of his and Jericho’s relationship. Now, it would be nice to know where their relationship stood after everything that had happened.
    “I wasn’t sure if you were in here alone or not.” Jericho stepped inside the office, leaving the door open. “I have some Level Four access approvals for you to sign off on.”
    Level Four was for high rollers and well-connected clientele. Dante personally oversaw the approval process. If a client didn’t have something of value to offer him— blackmail, money, political connections, or otherwise—they stayed on Levels One through Three.
    Asylum wasn’t a typical club. Customers could indulge in anything from illegal gambling to no-strings-attached group sex and anything in between, as long as they followed the guidelines. Most of the clientele belonged to elite families on the Eastern Seaboard, and Dante exploited those contacts regularly to avoid the legal ramifications of the club’s illicit and lucrative offerings. At the end of the day, it was his club and his rules. Most customers were too afraid of being blacklisted to cross him. They were bored, and they were rich. Dante offered them a place where anything was acceptable.
    Acceptable is one thing, but money and boredom can’t be excuses for everything, especially not having a threesome with your head of security and a dancer.
     
    JERICHO WISHED DANTE would just sign the damn forms. After he turned them in to the business office, he would be free to sink back into the familiar rhythm of work. Only yesterday, he would’ve lingered in the office to shoot the breeze, talking sports, politics, or club gossip with the man who’d become more than just a boss in the ten years Jericho had been working for him.
    Now, it was all he could do to act normal while he went about his regular schedule. He had known things might be awkward when he’d made his choice the night before. But living the awkward was much worse than anticipating it.
    “How is business tonight?”
    Dante’s question drew Jericho back from his brooding. “The usual. Congressman Flaherty must be stressed about his bid for a senate seat. He just signed for the West Suite on Level Four and told Terrence to bring him four dancers for a private show.”
    Jericho didn’t add that the congressman had demanded blondes. His gut told him that Dante would react much as Jericho had, which was why he’d handpicked the dancers and sent them