As BDSM clubs went, it was tolerable, but the owner went for an edgy, dark warehouse look that reminded Ambrose too much of work. Some of the warehouses they delivered to had a similar vibe, minus the bondage equipment. Konstantin didn’t like it there much, either, but it was the only place in town to play if they didn’t feel like hosting a party. He’d offered to come along as his wingman. Kon’s current girlfriends, Anna and Sindee, had just fucked off to the washroom together, which meant he might get a word in edgewise. It was hard to have a conversation with Kon when he was covered in women, but then, that was his natural state. “Are you sure she’s going to show?” Kon asked in his thick Russian accent. He may have moved to America when he was eight, but the accent had never faded. As a kid, he’d hated it and tried hard to get rid of it, but as an adult he’d decided he no longer gave a shit. “No, she may not.”
