Calling the Shots by Christine D'Abo

music. One of the Doms, Stephen, was working his sub hard. The young woman had been gagged pretty early into the scene, but Josh was still able to hear her muffled cries and moans every time leather met flesh. Her face was flushed as Stephen used a riding crop to slap her thighs. The sounds were an odd backdrop combined with the music, but it seemed to perfectly highlight the fluid movements of Beth and Oliver behind the bar.
    He shouldn’t be watching them, not like this. In the past few weeks the line between employer and employee had blurred in his mind’s eye. Images of their bodies pressed together, sweaty and writhing, haunted his dreams. Light and dark, slick and shifting. Their moans filling the air as they fucked each other. Josh pressing his body between theirs to lick and touch their skin. He’d woken up hard and leaking on more than one occasion.
    Josh forced his gaze away and took in the rest of the club. Bodies of all shapes and sizes gyrated together on the dance floor. Flashes of skin and leather enflamed his soul, revving him up to a level he hadn’t experienced in years. God, something was wrong with him when a typical night was too much for him to handle. He needed to start jerking off more often.
    Josh was about to head up to his private room for a few moments alone when a movement from the bar caught his attention. Oliver stood with his arm straight up, holding three fingers in the air.
    Possible disturbance.
    Dammit.
    Josh moved closer to Carl, signaling for the bouncer to follow him to the bar as casually as possible. Oliver spoke in his ear, nodding to Beth, who was speaking to a club member in her mid-forties. “She’s getting verbally rough with Beth. Nothing she can’t handle so far, but it could get ugly quickly.”
    It took him a second to mentally flip through the names until he could identify the club member. He gave Oliver’s arm a quick squeeze. Keeping his attention focused on Beth, he waited until she caught his eye and nodded before moving in.
    “Allison, how are you doing, darling?” Josh moved to stand beside her, leaning the bulk of his weight against the bar, but careful not to touch her. “Enjoying your evening?”
    The woman turned to face him, but the movement was more exaggerated than it should have been. “I’m good.”
    “Are you here with your husband?” He glanced quickly at Beth, who mouthed Austin. “I can get one of the staff to track Austin down for you.”
    Allison cut the air with her hand. “Bastard isn’t here. Left me. For no reason. I want another drink. And a fuck. Now. ”
    Josh mentally cringed. This was going to get messy. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know how close the two of you were. How about you and Beth and I go up to my office and we can talk about it more comfortably? You can tell us what happened.”
    “No, I don’t want to talk. Done talking.” Allison swayed on her feet, trying to turn around to face Beth once more. “I want another drink.”
    “You’ve had enough tonight.” Josh kept his voice firm but calm.
    “I. Want. A. Drink.” She bit out each word as she balled her hands into fists.
    God, why could this never be easy? “Let’s go to my office. I have quite a nice—”
    “Fuck off.”
    Wrong answer, Allison. With a nod toward Carl, Josh straightened to his full height. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave now. We’ll see you to a cab to make sure you get home safe.”
    One moment she was a mild-mannered, if depressed, drunk. The next she was a screaming hellcat. Before anyone could react, she’d launched herself at him with a yell, spitting and clawing at his face. Pain burned down his skin from below his eye to his jaw line, though it wasn’t as painful as the knee she’d landed to his nuts. His vision started to blacken, his body slumping sideways as nausea made it almost impossible to stand.
    As quickly as she was on him, Carl pulled her off. Oliver jumped over the bar to help restrain her as