How would Aidan respond if he found out the truth?
She couldn’t face that daunting reality of the unknown. Not yet. Cora didn’t want to be his damned therapist. She had enough of helping people on a daily basis at work. She wanted to be his girlfriend … his submissive.
Was that really asking for so much?
The beep of her telephone had her putting down the curling iron. She grabbed her phone off the vanity.
Coming to CS tonight?
She dropped down onto the closed toilet seat and smiled at Kenzie’s text. Yep. You?
I wouldn’t miss it! A short pause followed, and then another message popped up. I have to ask—what was with you running out last night? Is everything okay?
Cora had no idea how to answer that. Were things okay? In her mind, she’d say yes. She also doubted Aidan would agree, only making her twitchy. Aidan could be determined when he wanted something. And Cora was unsteady about how to deal with him.
Her fingers worked quickly over the small keyboard, and she replied, Just some weird stuff going on with Aidan, but it’ll be fine.
Two seconds later another message chimed on Cora’s phone. He looked so pissed after you left. I stayed far away from him. Actually, everyone did.
Probably a good move, Cora wrote.
You okay, though?
Cora smiled. Kenzie was a pain in the ass to Club Sin Masters with her bratty behavior, but to Cora she was a good friend. While Cora was always tempted to analyze the hell out of Kenzie, knowing there was something deeply troubled inside her that made her act the way she did, Cora fought hard not to analyze her friends.
Don’t bring work home!
From what Aidan had told her, Kenzie came to Club Sin with the Masters from their old club, Chains, because Dmitri worried over Kenzie’s safety. She liked to poke at Doms. Poke the wrong Dom and that spelled trouble.
Cora and Kenzie didn’t have the close relationship that she had with Presley, but Club Sin submissives stuck together. Presley felt more like a sister. Kenzie was a loyal friend and a great support to Cora.
She liked Kenzie, brat and all.
I’m all good. Aidan came over today, Cora texted.
To your house?
Cora laughed, crossing her legs. Yup.
Wow. That’s kind of a big deal.
Was it?
Or was Aidan simply concerned about the submissive he trained? Was he more interested in finding out the answer because he knew she hid something from him? It did sound entirely personal that he came to her house, but Cora believed with total certainty that Aidan acted only as a Dom, not as a man who wanted more from her.
Sad, she thought, but true.
He wasn’t ready.
Cora texted, He’s just worried, which is ridiculous. I am fine.
Doms being Doms. They are such nosy buggers. I’m glad you’re feeling okay. So I’ll see you at the club soon?
Meet ya there!
Cora stood from the toilet and turned off the curling iron. She gave herself one final look in the mirror. While she thought she looked nice, her blouse and jeans fitting her well, the darkness in her gaze stared back at her.
Those shadows weren’t from her troubles with Aidan. It was from her portrayal that it had been an issue with her ex-boyfriend, Porter. Guilt ripped through her, and she couldn’t stand it.
She shouldn’t have used him as her scapegoat.
Leaving the bathroom, she flicked the light off and entered her living room. She plopped down on the couch and she scrolled through her contacts on her phone until she reached Porter’s name. Then she hit the call button.
Two rings sounded in her ear before Porter’s low voice hummed through the line: “This is a nice surprise.”
“Hi.” An easiness filled her chest. Porter was her secure place, a friend who always made her feel better. A man who knew her inside and out and who she wholeheartedly trusted. “How are you?”
“Good, as always.”
Porter lived life with his glass half full. Cora had always loved that about him. He was a positive person, and anyone around him seemed to feel that happiness flowing out of him. Heck, it was why she had fallen for him in the first place.
He made her feel good.
“Are you going to Chains tonight?” she asked.
“On my way there soon.”
Cora had met Porter the moment she had gained the courage and first stepped into the BDSM club. She had been at Chains for only five minutes before he introduced himself. She’d gone for research as part of a college assignment, but what she hadn’t counted on was how hot the experience made her.
One night there and that’d been it—she had become addicted.
Luckily for her, she had met Porter, an amazing Dom who she felt an instant attraction to. She was a different person then. She wanted different things. While Aidan gave her a passion that set her ablaze, Porter had given her stability. Being with him was safe, and at that time in her life, she had needed that.
She had craved a good man who allowed her to grow. Then her needs changed, and that ended their relationship. Even when they parted ways it had all been handled with care. They were friends during their relationship, and they were still friends. Time had changed nothing.
“Are you going to Club Sin?” he asked.
“Yup,” she replied. “I gotta stop by work first to check my schedule, but other than that, it’s all play tonight.” It was odd sometimes that the one Dom who had opened her eyes to BDSM was no longer at the same club. She did miss seeing Porter on the weekends. “We should do dinner soon.”
“Ah, you miss me that much, do you?”
Cora laughed. “You are entirely missable.”
“Might not want to say that in front of Club Sin Masters,” Porter said, slow and steady. “Knowing them, especially Aidan, I don’t think they’d appreciate hearing you pining after another Dom.”
“Oh, please, like I’m pining.” She chuckled with a snort. “Don’t go getting a big head.” He chuckled. “So tell me, how is Cora doing?”
“Cora is doing all right.”
A long pause followed. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, staring at her television, still disappointed she hadn’t gotten the chance to relax a little from her busy day. “Just recovering from the long week.”
“Somehow I don’t believe you.”
She sighed into the phone. “Somehow you’ll just have to.” She remembered her time with Porter. Things were a lot less complicated. But Porter didn’t give Cora what Aidan could—that spark of hot passion.
If she had wanted to marry her best friend, Porter would’ve been that man. But Cora had always wanted more, and so had Porter. Dammit all to hell, Cora still wanted that, only she hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to get it. “Believe me, it’s all good.”
He gave a dry laugh. “Who are you trying to convince, me or you?”
Cora glanced down to her hands, wanting off this subject. She had explained herself enough to Aidan, and, as it seemed, also to everyone else. She was done explaining herself. “So, about that dinner, can we get together?”
His voice edged with frustration. “Work is insane right now. I’m chasing down a guy cheating on his wife, and the man is beyond careful.”
Porter was a private investigator. Cora always loved hearing his stories about the people who hired him. Some of them were hilarious. Others were sad, with marriages ending over affairs.
When she had dated him, he’d just landed a job with another PI who Porter had respected. He’d done well for himself, and she was proud of him. “Okay, when the schedule clears, give me a call. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”
Porter hesitated. “Not that I’m not pleased you want to see me, but can I ask what has brought this on now?”
The question wasn’t odd. While she and Porter talked a lot on the phone or through e-mail, usually once a week or so, she had not seem him fac
e-to-face since she’d left Chains for Club Sin.
When their relationship ended, they both thought that it was likely for the best not to confuse things. Now so much time had gone by and she got busy with life and possibly had forgotten how much he meant to her. “Can’t a girl miss a guy?”
“Yes, I suppose she can,” Porter replied in a flat voice that told her he didn’t believe her. “I’ll get back to you on a day that works, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
“Take care,” he said.
“You, too.”
Cora pressed end on the call and her heart felt heavy. Of course, Porter would sense her troubles. Even without the relationship between them, she knew he’d read her like an open book. He had been a big part of her life. And she knew why she reached out to him now—she craved to be around a man that she knew loved her unconditionally. But that was her heart talking. Her head told her that it was her guilt. Perhaps she needed to tell Porter what she’d said to Aidan. To explain that half-lie that she had told.
She shoved the thoughts away. Tonight she had other problems: one big, growly Dom who sought to find answers that Cora knew he should stay far away from. She lifted her chin and reminded herself of the reasons she and Porter broke up.
You wanted passion.
You craved that spark.
You found that in Aidan.
He needs more time and you can wait for him.
Chapter Eight
Shortly after nine o’clock and on a quiet street in Chinatown, Aidan stood on the sidewalk beneath the streetlight. He stared at the bright neon sign: Chains. His chest constricted at the blue and purple lights glowing out into the night.
This had been his and Lily’s club.
She had died while he was a member, and in the year after her death he hadn’t played once, even though he came to the club on weekends. It wasn’t until Dmitri opened Club Sin that Aidan took a new submissive into a scene.
A new club. A fresh start.
He’d lived that way for a year—playing with submissive after submissive, until Cora joined Club Sin and Dmitri had asked him to train her. After her initial training, both Cora and Aidan had played with others in Club Sin, but within that first year they slowly began to play only with each other.
It worked.
Aidan loved playing with Cora.
No one else had caught his eye.
As he stared at the club that had once been his weekly hangout, part of him hesitated to go any farther. Lily had touched the walls of this club, she’d sat in the chairs, and she’d known many of the members.
Though the reminder of Lily nearly made Aidan leave, he hadn’t come for himself. He’d come for Cora. He could never forget what he saw in the depths of her eyes, nor could he pretend that he believed what she told him.
Something deeply troubled her.
He wouldn’t relent until he had an answer—a true answer. He was trained not only to read through lies, but he navigated through a story to find the truth. With that motive strong on his mind, he approached the bouncer.
The tall and lanky dark-haired man gave him an once-over. “Observer or player?”
“Observer,” Aidan replied.
The bouncer slid a red rubber bracelet around Aidan’s wrist and added, “Read the rules on the bulletin board. Even if you don’t play, rules must be followed.” The bouncer waved him forward. “I need to search you.”
Aidan spread out his arms and widened his legs. As the bouncer searched him, Aidan ignored the way his arms trembled, reminding himself his pain meant nothing now. The bouncer patted him down, not only searching for dangerous items or drugs but also a camera or cell phone.
Once the bouncer gave Aidan the go-ahead, a hammering heart led him into the club. He scanned the large, open space, drawing in a deep breath of the musky air. Chains always reminded him of a typical dance club, though the BDSM equipment stationed around the walls set this club apart.
His stomach roiled as he forced himself to walk. Not here for you. He moved through the foyer and noticed the list of rules on the bulletin board. With a tight chest, he breathed deep and scanned the rules.
He discovered the rules hadn’t changed since he’d played there—typical regulations that most BDSM clubs enforce, such as not interrupting a scene, respecting safe words, and disinfecting the stations.
The rules stated that Dungeon Monitors had a higher authority, and their word on any scene was final. Observers were strictly there to watch the play. Unless they wore a green wristband, they were not authorized to participate.
Fine by him.
Uncontrollable tension ran through him as he left the bulletin board behind, and he forced each step through the dark club. As if his returning to Chains mirrored returning to hard memories of Lily. Heady sensations gripped him. Raw emotions that he’d thought he’d overcome consumed him.
With an empty feeling in his stomach, he continued farther into the club, passing tables where at one he spotted a woman with a dog collar around her neck and a leash attached. Every station was lit up with a huge spotlight above. The rest of the club, except for the small lamps at the tables, was bathed in darkness. He inhaled the scent of hot sex and his cock didn’t so much as twitch.
Time skidded to a halt as his gaze had landed on the spanking bench in the far corner. His heartbeat slowed as a memory consumed him, nearly dropping him to his knees.
“Pet, you’ve been bad,” Aidan murmured, stroking the soft flesh of Lily’s bottom. “What happens to bad submissives?”
Her long blond hair blanketed the wooden floor. Her ass was up in the air as she lay across the spanking bench. “They get spanked, sir.”
Aidan smiled.
Lily had purposely goaded him when they arrived at Chains, so he’d issue a spanking. “No, Lily, they get spanked hard.” With the flat of his hand, he smacked the sweet spot on her round ass, and she arched into him. “Don’t they, Lily?”
“Oh, yes, sir. I deserve it.” She gasped.
His body temperature rose as his hand landed on her other cheek. “Ah, but I think she enjoys it.”
Another hit stung against his fingers.
“I do, sir,” she squeaked.
With two final swats burning his hand, he reached for the zipper on his pants, exposing his bare and rock-hard cock. “Spread your cheeks. That sweet cunt belongs to me.”
She obliged him, and her slit glistened with her arousal as her legs were spread wide. His cock jumped in his hand at her perfect, slender body that he’d die to protect. “Take me. I’m yours, sir.”
With a knotted stomach, Aidan blinked out of the memory. The crowd in the club was a blur, each heartbeat banging in his ears. He gulped, gazing over every station Lily had been at. Even if the BDSM equipment had changed over the years, the memory of her was woven into the fabric of the club.
His heart twisted.
He missed her.
No, there is more to it than that, something dark inside told him.
He shut his eyes, blowing out a slow breath. You have dealt with all this. You are here for Cora. Opening his eyes and with an acute sense of purpose, he scanned the club for Cora’s ex-boyfriend, Porter.
Find him and get out.
Aidan, in fact, had known Porter longer than he had known Cora. When Aidan first joined Chains, he’d met Porter and they got along well. When Dmitri opened Club Sin, Aidan had never been so happy to leave Chains behind, considering he’d played with Lily there. He supposed Porter and his worlds had drifted apart, since they hadn’t kept in touch.
When Aidan had learned from Cora that she had played with Porter, it made him happy they hadn’t kept in touch. The connection would’ve been too close and too strange. Now Aidan could care less that Cora and Porter had once dated.
Cora had told him that she was with Porter the first year Club Sin was open, which was why Aidan had never met her. She started going to Chains soon after Aidan had left. Heading farther into the dark club, he passed D
oms and submissives chatting on the couch.
Before he made it three feet, a submissive dropped to her knees and blocked his way. He stared down at the dirty-blond head, bowed to the floor.
“Sir, may I be yours for the night?” the woman in her early twenties asked.
Aidan tucked a finger under her jaw, lifting her head. Her round, blue, hungry eyes sparkled. He showed her the band on his wrist. “It’s in your best interest to look before you offer yourself.”
The rules had explained that the bands ranged from everything to observing, being a player, and even had colors indicating what a person would or would not do. Sadists wore silver bands. Doms interested in lighter play wore gold. “As you can see, I’m only an observer.”
The pretty blonde, who was dressed in a corset and a tiny black skirt, smirked. “Can I do anything to change your mind?”
Aidan did not miss this part of public clubs. He narrowed his eyes, having no desire to have this submissive kneeling at his feet. That right belonged to another, sassy submissive. “Stand up.” Once on her feet, her eyes twinkled. He frowned. “Sub, mind your manners and don’t question a Dom.”
Christ, he’d forgotten how untrained some submissives were. Club Sin submissives understood rules, as in to accept a no and go away. While his muscles quivered, his chest lightened. Compared to this submissive, Cora shined. “Take my advice. Do not repeat the error again.” He gestured to his left, his hand flicking out dismissively. “Go.”
She offered him a full-out pout before she scurried away. Disgusted, he shook his head that she had offered herself without any understanding of his desires. A woman without common sense was the most unattractive.
He shook his hands out, shedding the tingling heat in his veins, scanning the club. A dark-skinned woman was bound to a St. Andrew’s Cross, receiving a nicely done flogging. Another submissive was kneeling on the stage with her Dom striding around her.
So far he didn’t see anyone with Porter’s height of six-foot-three. He moved through the hordes of people, focused on the two Doms commanding the one submissive strung up with cream ropes.
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