The Darker Side of Trey Grey by Tara Spears Page A

felt my eyes getting heavy, and struggled out of the comfortable chair. Dozing would turn to full out sleep, and that would not be a good idea. Walking, that was a good idea.
    I had wandered the corridor up and down a few times when I noticed the action in one of the playrooms had turned lurid. This particular glass case was set behind a pillar and tucked into a corner, making it almost invisible.  
    The woman, dressed in purple leather and spiky thigh-high boots, leaned into the back of a slightly pudgy, dark-haired man cuffed to a wooden cross. I caught the pink strike marks along the edge of his ribcage then saw the thin hog whip discarded on the floor.
    Even though they were here to entertain the patrons, for some reason I didn’t want them to catch me peeping. I was about to move on when I noticed the glass was grayed. One-way glass. I had been privy to it on a few occasions when I visited Fairfax. It made sense actually. We could watch, yet they couldn’t see out, giving the illusion of privacy. Of course they knew we could see them. However, being in the sex trade, there were times I wasn’t in the mood to be openly observed.
    I leaned a shoulder against the pillar as I watched the woman discreetly jacking off her sub. I chuckled when his hips moved and she pinched him hard for the discretion, her black nails leaving pink half moon marks on his white ass. Hadn’t the guy heard of nude tanning?
    “Have you ever played?”
    I turned to the masculine voice and found Freddie, arms crossed, with a demure-pissed off look on his face. It was an odd combination, but on him somehow it worked.
    “Yeah.”
    “Bottom or top?” he asked, running a thumb over his lower lip.
    “Both,” I replied, turning back to the scene without further elaboration.
    “Me too.” He leaned against the pillar behind me. “You seemed to be having a good time. Did you have a good time, Trey?”
    “Did you come find me just to ask if I was having a good time?” I giggled. Not, not drunk yet.
    “No— She’s using a toy on him... crafty bitch isn’t she?”  
    I tilted my head at Freddie’s observation and noticed the man’s ass clench then relax. Sure as shit, she was.
    “Think she’s risking her job?” I asked speculatively.
    “Naw. I saw a few others pushing the limits of legal display.”
    “A voyeur eh?” I teased.
    “No. I was bored waiting for you to leave your entourage.”
    His voice blew warm against my neck and I felt a small frisson of lust stir.
    “Trey, can I touch you?”  
    Shit, he was asking my permission. I never would have pegged him for a submissive. “IT” stretched, then mumbled and went back to sleep. Despite my body’s lackadaisical response, as a whole I was becoming more intrigued with Mr. Fangor.  
    “You can touch me,” I replied.   
    His hand ran tentatively up my thigh, and it was nice to have someone soft and experienced touching me with veneration. I leaned back against his chest, soaking in it.
    We stayed like that, Freddie caressing my thigh, my hip, my waist while I absorbed his warmth as we watched the scene’s climax. When the man came there wasn’t any emission and I realized, with mixed feelings of relief and disappointment, he was wearing a condom.
    “Trey?”
    “Hm?”
    “I don’t do this... I never do this, but... will you come home with me?” Freddie asked, his hand stilling.
    “Can I fuck you?”
    “Yes.” His breath whispered the word through my hair and “IT” came fully awake. I was sure it was the alcohol talking, but I wanted him and I never wanted anyone.
    I heard myself say, “Yes.”
    When the blast of cool briny air hit me I regained some reason.
    “Freddie, you have to bring me back here when we’re done. No exceptions, understand?” I told him while we waited for the valet to bring his car around.
    “Sure,” he replied.
    “Freddie, no exceptions, no matter what .” 
    “Trey, I got it. No exceptions. Back here when we’re done.” He tilted