Page 79 of Lesson In Honesty
He took his time, sizing them up, determining their dynamic.
Not once in the last few days had he seen any of them with a Dominant, male or female. They were obviously close with one another, spending all their time together as a trio. From what he’d casually observed, they bore Little traits, but whether they were truly Little, just dabbling, or using it as an excuse to bully and belittle others, he didn’t know.
Even if Serenity wasn’t on the exclusive side, he’d label them as rich. At a guess, significantly wealthier than his few million dollars in the bank. Unlike him, their monetary worth was likely generational—they wore the samecan’t touch meexpression Tristan often used when he was being an obnoxious prick, flaunting his cash to get what he wanted.
Money tainted blood.
Assets contaminated the soul.
That was yet another reason he was hesitant to sell his business, even though it would catapult him up the rich list faster than a powder keg on an inch-long fuse.
He liked who he was now, was proud of his achievements.
The thought continued to lurk in his mind that once he had millions—so many fucking millions—at his disposal, he’d become lazy and entitled, a shadow of himself.
He’d come from nothing and he’d die with nothing, same as everyone else.
It was the time and the legacy he left in between that worried him.
As he approached the booth, he met the eyes of one of the women first. Jade green, surprise fading to attraction thenlust. She licked lips filled with whatever poison was currently popular, scooping her hand through ultra fine strands of silver blonde hair shot through with vibrant pink.
Diamonds winked in her ears, around her wrist.
The corset she wore left nothing to the imagination, drawing attention on two levels—the fact it showed a considerable amount of porcelain skin, and that it was as pink as the dye in her hair.
Mack wondered how she’d look stuffed in a box with a cellophane front, trapped like the doll she emulated.
BDSM Barbie.
Amusement at the wayward thought made him smile as he stopped, leaning against the back of the booth. He said nothing, waiting for the attention of all three morons to land on him.
The second woman noticed him about thirty seconds after BDSM Barbie, only it wasn’t interest in those hazel eyes. This vixen wasn’t concerned with him at all, just the interruption he was causing to her evening. She wasn’t as skinny as her pink-frosted friend, she didn’t flaunt her diamonds, but the ice in her gaze told him everything he needed to know.
Next level wealth. Complete disregard for anyone who wasn’t her equal.
She might dress in Chanel and Gucci, but inside that pretty shell with the perfect eyebrows and exceptional makeup, she was trash.
As for the man… well, Mack discovered he was struggling not to slam his fist into the surgically crafted cheekbone to wipe the cocky smirk off the fucker’s face. Blacken those murky blue eyes to dim the smug satisfaction glowing in them.
They hadn’t been cruel by accident, not that he’d believed that anyway.
They were cruel because it was a form of entertainment to the rich and bored.
“Is there a problem or are you just perving?” The guy sneered.
“Can you blame him? I bet it’s like kissing an ape’s ass crack when he kisses that freak.” The haughty little bitch eyed him up as though she’d stepped in shit. “Maybe he’s gay. That’s it, right? You’re locked up tight in some quaint closet, in denial or whatever the fuck, and fucking that monstrosity is a twofer—you can get your rocks off imagining it’s a man while using it as a beard.”
Mack clenched his jaw until it thought it was wired shut. His teeth ached from the pressure, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth to keep from spewing vileness back at them.
Changing his mind about wielding words as a weapon, he decided to hang them—as the saying went—with their own rope.
“That’s mean, Portia.” The blonde frowned.
“The truth hurts. Why else would a guy like him be with something that crawled out of the gutter?” Portia lifted a hand as if asking to be corrected. “Either his dick is into beast porn or—”
Pain radiated through Mack’s hand, traveling up his wrist and forearm like a lightning bolt. The crack of bone on wood fired like a gunshot, cutting the toxic Portia off as effectively as stuffing his fist down that slender throat.
The blonde squeaked and jumped. “Portia, maybe you should stop now.”