"So...that happened."

Hunter released a long breath, bracing his hands on the steering wheel. Fitz's words reflected his mood.

"Did not expect that," Hunter murmured.

"At least we got some way to prove he's not the maniac we're lookin' for."

"Small blessings."

Fitz grinned at him as they buckled up and got underway. "Now that we can clear him, you can ask him out."

Hunter barked a surprised laugh, but his gut shimmered with excitement.

A date with Lucien St. John would be the height of his existence thus far.

Then a depressing thought occurred to him.

"What if he's not into me? Gaydar's giving me nothing."

"We were interrogatin' him," Fitz pointed out. "You won't know 'til you try."

They pulled up to the guardhouse to get checked out. While they were there one of the guards handed them another zip drive with a digital copy of their daily logs. Back on the road, Fitz grew thoughtful.

"Y'know, when he shut Kelsey down, especially the second time," he murmured. "He sounded like a fuckin' Dom."

"And Jordan heeled like a rebellious sub," Hunter agreed. His cock twitched at the thought of Lucien using that voice on him.

Damn, the possibilities...

"That shit made my dick hard as fuck," Fitz grumbled, shifting in the passenger seat.

"Yeah, same. So, are we hitting the Club or back home to fuck ourselves stupid again?"

"You got your stuff?"

"In my bag in the trunk."

"Swing by my place so I can grab mine. We'll take my Jeep from there."

***

Luc sat in his chair, his senses raging with the combined sound and scent of Royce and Horatio.

They had no idea how enticing they were together.

Luc had not planned to open up to them so completely. He almost told them everything, but this was not the time or place to do so.

Their earnest desire to prove him innocent touched him and restored his faith in law enforcement. They were good cops, indeed good men.

He knew Horatio would come to him with a moment's notice, and Luc was becoming just as enchanted with Royce. Luc could see himself enjoying time with both of them.

Even though Royce was an untrained, untried sub.

What the hell was he thinking?

His rules and his logic had nothing to do with his desire, though. Luc knew it and was not fighting very hard to resist.

His instincts never led him wrong.

The only problem he could see was how and when to tell them both the truth, and whether they would be open to the notion of such an unconventional arrangement.

"Luc."

He smiled when Cleo slid onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm settled around her waist, cuddling her close. Luc relaxed as she stroked his chest.

"Sugah, I had no idea," she said softly.

That's when he remembered she was watching and listening from the office. And Jordy was in there with her while he spoke about his family.

He cleared his throat. "I did not mean to tell them any of that," he admitted wryly.

"Maybe you needed to, sugah." She pressed a kiss to his jaw, sending waves of soothing warmth through him.

Cleo had a way of filling Luc's hunger for physical contact without making him feel needy. It was precious and vital to him.

"They're finally gone- Oh, damn, sorry." Jordy stumbled to a halt when he came upon them.

"S'alright, Jordy," Cleo laughed. "Thank you for staying with Luc through all that."

"Yeah, of course. Um. Did you wanna go on and eat now, Luc?'

Luc arched a brow at Jordy's level of discomfort. And envy.

The Talk might be necessary after all.

"Not yet, Jordy, but thank you. You should get home to Celia. Please give her my apologies for keeping you out so late."

"Yeah, sure. Um. Do you want me to bring breakfast tomorrow?"

"Please, call first. I may not be home, and if I am, I may not be alone."

"Okay. Well, good night. And uh, nice meeting you, Cleo."

"You too, sugah. Drive safe."

Luc listened until he heard the front door close behind the other man.

"Are you in tonight, sugah?"

"No, I need to go out. Will you drive me, cara?"

***

Saturday nights were always jumping at the Velvet Canvas.

The public playrooms were booked to capacity, and the private rooms had a waiting list. Hunter and Fitz had no shortage of titillating scenes to peek in on from their box.

"You should go play," Hunter urged Fitz.

"Hell naw," Fitz objected. "That's a fuckin' meat market down there. Besides, I don't do public scenes."

They watched several barely dressed subs being herded through the crowd by a shirtless, heavily tattooed, and severe-looking Dom in black leather pants.

Not that they would judge anyone's wardrobe decisions. Fitz poured himself into suede chaps over a shimmering black bikini and a skin-tight mesh tank paired with leather boots and topped by his signature black Stetson. Hunter was only slightly more covered in black ass-hugging jeans with a suede vest and buckled leather knee boots.

They both wore their collars, and Hunter felt more comfortable tonight than he ever had before.

"Anyway," Fitz turned to him with a wicked light in his amber eyes, "maybe tonight's the night we pop your D/s cherry."

Until that.

"Wait, what?"

"C'mon, it's about time, don't ya think? How're you gonna know what you like if you don't try anything?"

He had a point, and Hunter grudgingly nodded. "Okay, so... how do I decide who to play with?"

"Well, you want a guy that's good with new subs."

"Yeah," Hunter agreed, casting his eyes around anxiously.

Several Doms milled about, some with subs at their feet or behind them. Others were alone and searching the crowd.

"Okay so, Lord Ichabod," Fitz pointed out a tall blonde Dom leaning on one of the bars. "He's patient and likes to teach new subs. Dama trusts him to put Plat candidates through their paces.

"Then there's Lord Chaz, over there. He likes leather -a lot- and he's also a good entry-level Dom."

Hunter shook his head. Chaz was shorter than Ichabod but thick with muscle. His dark red hair was braided down his back.

"I dunno," Hunter dithered, shrinking in on himself. No one pricked his interest. He was quite sure he was teetering on the edge of a panic attack at the thought of a scene tonight.

"Hey," Fitz turned in his chair to face Hunter, taking his hands. He rubbed his thumbs over his palms. "You're all sweaty and nervous. Calm down, baby. We won't put ya out there if you ain't ready, okay?"

"Yeah," Hunter was chilled and shivery inside. It wasn't a good feeling. "I don't know why I'm so freaked out. I mean, I want this. Wanted it for years."

"No worries, baby. Take it at your speed, a'ight. When you meet the Dom for you, you'll know"

Hunter nodded, grateful when Fitz squeezed his hands.

"I don't want to hold you back. I know you wanna play."

"I ain't in the mood right now, anyhow," Fitz slumped back in his chair. "I doubt anybody short'a il Maestro could get me going tonight."

A short knock on the door was the only warning they had before la Dama pushed it open.

She smiled as they both slid to their knees, heads bowed, and greeted her.

"Horatio, Royce, buona serata. Maestro would like to see you both in his suite. Twenty minutes."

She was gone with a rustle of skirts and chiming bells before they could react.

"Holy shit." Hunter was breathless. "She moves like fuckin' lightning."

Fitz laughed and rocked to his feet. "We gotta get belled up, boy. Looks like you caught Maestro's eye," he added with a wink.

"Fuck," Hunter whispered, excited and nervous all over again.

***

It was rare for Luc to be at the Club when it was packed to overflowing. That was far too many people for him, normally.

Tonight, however, he needed the stimulation. The wide scar across his back itched and throbbed. His hands felt too hot, then too cold. His skin tingled and twitched all over.

Cleo was masterful when it came to easing his distress when he got like this. He was as calm as he was going to get, though, even after a deeply satisfying blowjob.

Instead of locking himself away in his suite, he prowled around his private box, leaving the sliding door that kept the crowd noise out slightly open. Luc could hear the crush of people below, playing in the public rooms and moving through the open common areas of the Club. Random bits of conversation, grunts, cries, and moans of pleasure caught his attention, but nothing held it more than a moment.

He yearned for Horatio. He longed for Royce.

Luc ached for them both.

"You look like a caged lion," Cleo quipped, entering from his suite.

"I thought you disliked the zoo."

Cleo stepped close behind him to wrap her arms around his waist. He soaked up the contact, feeling slightly better.

"I have a surprise for you, sugah," Cleo murmured.

"You know how I feel about surprises."

Very little pissed him off more than the unexpected. Psychologically, he was certain it had to do with being blind. He loathed anything he literally couldn't see coming.

"You'll kiss me for this one, sugah." She slid in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him down. She pressed her lips against his ear and whispered, "Royce and Horatio are here."

Of course, he kissed her.

***

Hunter took a deep breath and tried to stop fiddling with the belled bracelets he was wearing. Fitz was giving him a crash course on Maestro.

"Hope your Italian's up to scratch. He speaks it a lot," Fitz warned. "It's fine to answer in English, but he digs it when you speak Italian back to him.

"Greet him as soon as you see him and kneel after he greets you back. Don't raise your eyes, always address him as 'Maestro', and always thank him. Don't touch the blindfold unless he tells you to.

"He touches you a lot. Licks and smells you, too. And he likes to be touched, you don't even have to ask. Everything else is pretty much basic. You shaved?"

"All clear below stairs, but...not anywhere else."

"It's one'a the things he likes, smooth skin all the way 'round. Anyway, he asked for ya, so he shouldn't be upset about it.

"He honors safe words like gospel, and he won't do anything new without permission. That's about it," Fitz sighed as they approached Maestro's private rooms. "You good?"

Hunter snatched his fingers away from his bells and nodded. "Yeah. I'm good."

Fitz drew a deep breath, and Hunter watched his body grow languid and loose. With a sultry smile, he pushed the doors open and stepped through with Hunter right behind him.

They took a few steps inside moving in unconscious tandem, eyes lowered.

"Maestro," Fitz murmured.

"Horatio, Royce," Dama greeted them. She sat at a round table with three other ornate cushioned armchairs. "Thank you for being so punctual."

"Dama."

If he didn't know Fitz as well as he did, Hunter would never catch the hint of confusion in his voice.

He was rather puzzled himself.

"Have you eaten?"

"Um. No, Dama, we haven't."

"Splendid! Is sushi okay?"

"Sushi is fine, Dama, thank you."

"And you, Royce."

"Yes, Dama."

"Wonderful," she rose from the table. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

They watched her leave through a curtained doorway and turned to each other in mutual bewilderment.

"The fuck?" Fitz whispered.

"Is it possible that Dama is Maestro?"

"Hell naw. I've sucked that man's dick and it is definitely a real dick. And he don't wear bells."

"So...I guess we're invited to dinner?"

Fitz took a deep breath. "I guess so."

They moved toward the table. It was set for four with silver chargers and black napkins rolled around elegant silver flatware. Half-filled water goblets and fluted wine glasses completed each setting, and a basket of bread occupied the middle of the table.

Still off-balance, they took seats across from each other. Hunter reached for the bread -he was rather hungry- and Fitz picked up his water.

"Ciao, Horatio."

Fitz blinked as long, tapered hands landed on his shoulders from behind.

"Maestro," he sighed, instantly relaxing.

Hunter saw the man move from his peripheral but didn't raise or turn his head. He slowly swallowed the bit of bread in his mouth and shivered when one of those hands moved to his shoulder.

"Royce, a pleasure to meet you here, at last, bello."

"Grazie, Maestro," Hunter answered. "Piacere mio."

"The pleasure is mine, believe me," Maestro laughed softly, moving away from them and around the table. "I am happy to see you both in something other than an official capacity."

They stared thunderstruck as Maestro settled into the chair between them.

Even in the dim lighting, there was no mistaking Lucien St. John.

In place of the dark yellow tunic, he wore a silky silver poet's blouse with lace ruffle up to his chin under a black duster that fell to his hips over loose black satin pants and went barefoot. Black velvet gloves fit snugly up to his wrists and his pale hair fell loose as usual and gave him a halo effect in the soft lighting.

"Oh shit," Hunter whispered, pieces falling into place and hitting him so hard he was breathless. "It was you!"

"What?" Fitz was still reeling.

"At the panel, Maestro sat in the chair behind Dama, and crossed his legs," Hunter explained, stumbling over his words. "At his house, Lucien sat in that Morticia Addams chair and crossed his legs, just like he did at the panel. It was the same, left over right with his hands in his lap."

"I am flattered you pay such close attention to me, Royce," Lucien purred, making the other man blush.

"He's a goddamn homicide detective," Fitz growled. "He pays attention to everything. You need to explain what the fuck is goin' on here."

"You are angry, Horatio. Do you believe I deceived you?"

"You think you didn't?"

"I revealed my past to you in my home just hours ago and I was glad to do so. I am here, now, to clear any further secrets between us."

"Fitz, hold on," Hunter put a hand on his friend's arm. He was tense and pissed off. "I think we need to hear him out."

"Do we?"

"Yeah," Hunter watched Lucien settle back, resting his hands on the arms of his chair. "There's gotta be an explanation, and we deserve to hear it."

"No shit, we do. So fuckin' talk."

"You are a creature of unspeakable beauty in your anger, Horatio," Lucien murmured.

"Hey, 'til I say different, you don't get to fuckin' call me that."

Lucien nodded once. "Molto bene. I am the owner of this Club. Prudence gave it to me for my twenty-first birthday. I remained hidden in the beginning because I was still undergoing reconstructive surgeries. Until I matured, there was no point in reconstructing my face. I was, as they say, a growing boy, thus, my bone structure was not yet set enough to warrant such measures until I was twenty.

"You have touched me intimately, sotto. You know I have many scars. Now you understand why."

Fitz flinched and some of his anger leached out of him. From what he could tell by touch, the man had more scars than smooth skin. Many felt like burns, but others felt like lacerations or surgery remnants.

Not that it turned him off, or anything. Maestro...Lucien... could lay pipe like a master plumber.

"After what could be done cosmetically was done," Lucien continued, "I remained hidden because crowds unnerved me. Noise levels and lights that are normal for most people cause me crippling pain.

"My personal box and this suite of rooms are soundproofed and none of the lights get any brighter than they currently are. I believe Jordy explained this briefly last night."

"And now?" Hunter prompted.

Lucien took a wedge of lime from a bowl by his plate and dropped it in his goblet of water.

"Now, I have no reason to conceal my identity from the two of you. Thus, I chose to reveal myself as soon as I became aware of your presence here tonight.

"The people I consider friends, those closest to me, call me Luc. I would be pleased if you both felt at ease doing so." Luc lifted the goblet and took a long drink before putting it back.

The silence that followed was deep as the three men sat together. Lucien cleared his throat and nodded.

"I understand," he said softly. "Forgive me, both of you. It was never my intention to deceive anyone, least of all you," he shrugged with that sad smile.

"Maestro," Fitz said. "You and me, we are far beyond friends."

"As much pleasure as we have shared in this room, sotto, we have never delved into the true depths of one another. I was certain all I needed was the pleasure and company of willing playmates.

"You came to me, sotto in your grief, seeking relief. I was humbled and honored to be there for you. I have wanted so much more than what we have, to collar you as my own, but I did not want to deny you the freedom to play in my absence.  I accepted what I could get from you when I could get it.

"I want to come out of the dark, and I am not comfortable doing so to an audience. I have been in hiding my entire life and I have grown weary of lurking in the shadows."

"You want to be seen," Hunter whispered, aching for the loneliness he could see in the other man's eyes.

Luc nodded. "Si, to be more than a phantom in my own life."

"I see you," Hunter told him. "In your paintings, in your sculptures. I see the pain and the fear you've lived through. I see the courage you don't know you have. I feel it. I hear it. I know it. I want to know you."

Luc smiled and leaned forward. "I want to know you, as well, Royce. Or would you rather Hunter?"

"Whatever you please, Luc," Hunter smiled back, feeling a warm glow as he basked in the other man's attention.

"Maybe," Fitz said quietly, "we can get to know each other."

"Si, caro," Luc murmured. "We could, indeed."

"There's a...bit'a awkward, though," Fitz caught Hunter's eye with a raised brow.

"Yeah, tell him." Hunter nodded.

"See, Royce here's had a nuclear man-crush on you since we was college kids. And um... you've done more to and for me than any Dom I ever played with. I mean I get all quivery just thinkin' about you. I make a point of bein' here when you're here, just on the hope that you'll call me up.

"The thing is, me and him, we get together more often'n not. We got no claims, none of that jealousy shit goin' on cuz we both wanna find our Dom. Much as we crush on each other, neither one'a us is toppy enough to Dom the other."

"What you have together is precious," Luc spoke with reverence and longing. "I would never try to come between you."

"Well," Hunter drawled. "You could come between us. And on us."

"And with us," Fitz licked his lips suggestively, his voice a low, sexy growl that made Hunter's toes curl.

Luc laughed, devilish delight shining in his eyes. "Perhaps, we should eat, first, si? My dinner was interrupted, after all."

Hunter shifted in his seat and grinned as Fitz did the same. Luc closed his eyes and drew a deep breath in through his nose

"The scent of you, both of you," he whispered and his voice a low throb that went straight to Hunter's balls. "Delizioso."

"Fuck dinner," Fitz muttered. "We'll suck you off as an appetizer, and you can have our asses three ways for the entree."

"What about dessert, sugah?"

"Dark chocolate is a personal favorite," Luc smiled as Cleo strolled back in with two large bags from Japanese Palace.

"Luc, you know damn well I am pure Godiva milk chocolate. Sushi's on boys."