by M. S. Force
Our chief counsel, Emmett Burke, drafted airtight language that has kept our clubs here and in LA the best-kept secrets in show business for more than a decade now. The five of us approve every member, all of whom come to us via referrals from existing members, and we admit only people who have something to lose. Case in point—the supermodel currently being vigorously fucked by Hayden.
Cresley Dane, one of the most famous faces in the world, a dynamic, aggressive businesswoman who rules the runways from New York to Paris and everywhere in between, is a true sexual submissive. Tonight, the gorgeous blonde is trussed up in an elaborate web of rope with her arms tied above her head, her spectacular breasts and torso tightly wrapped and her legs hoisted up and apart. Hayden is a master of Kinbaku, the Japanese art of erotic tying.
Standing in the shadows of the dungeon, I sip my drink and watch my friends, thinking of the many threesomes we’ve enjoyed in the past. Cresley is always up for an adventure, as she calls the scenarios Hayden and I have dreamed up over the years. We think of it as harmless fun among consenting adults who like to stretch their boundaries. We’ve only recently brought her into the club as a member, thus the formal training process she’s embarked upon with Hayden as her Dom. A year ago, Cresley won a hard-fought battle with her vindictive ex-boyfriend for custody of their three-year-old son. She has a lot to lose, thus we trust her implicitly.
Hayden catches my eye, nodding slightly to acknowledge me without losing his focus.
He’s also a master of delayed gratification, a skill he taught me after making me aware of the BDSM lifestyle. An actor he met on a film set when we were twenty-one introduced it to Hayden. He introduced it to me, and we were both instantly hooked. It was like we’d found the missing piece to a puzzle. I like to watch him in action, though I’m not attracted to him or to men in general. I’m objective enough to admit that my best friend is an extraordinarily good-looking man. He has dark hair and blue eyes that women go nuts over. Watching usually turns me on. Not tonight, however. Tonight, I’m stuck in a weird never-never land thanks to Natalie.
Thinking about her, I realize just how long it’s been since I spent time with a woman outside the lifestyle. A “vanilla,” as we call people who prefer their sex straight up with no embellishments. The term, which implies blandness, doesn’t do her justice. There’s absolutely nothing bland about Natalie, except perhaps her thoughts on sex, which make her extremely vanilla by my usual standards.
I already know that nothing about her or how she makes me feel can be classified as “usual.”
Hayden and Cresley interrupt my musings with their sharp, high-pitched cries of fulfillment as they finally let go and give in to the desire that’s probably been building between them for hours at this point, if I know Hayden. Their releases are epic and loud, and under normal circumstances, I’d be hard as a rock watching Cresley get off. Not tonight. Tonight I feel nothing but confusion, agitation and anxious desire to see Natalie again—as soon as possible. As if she might slip through my fingers if I don’t act quickly. I’m unaccustomed to feeling desperate when it comes to women.
Hayden slowly unties Cresley, wraps her in a blanket and holds a bottle of cold water to her lips.
She drinks greedily. “Thank you.” Her voice is hoarse from hours of screaming.
“We’ve got company.” Hayden nods in my direction.
She’s not at all surprised to see me. “Oh hey, Flynn. How long have you been there?”
I step out of the shadows to join them in the middle of the enormous room. “I got here just in time for the big finish.”
“It was a big finish,” Cresley agrees.
“You know me,” Hayden says with a cocky, satisfied smile, “go big or go home.”
“You’ve certainly got the big part covered. I may never walk properly again.” Cresley gathers the blanket around her and stands on trembling legs.
“Why thank you, darlin’.” Hayden reaches out to steady her, and I step closer out of habit. Protecting and caring for subs, especially after a scene, is essential to who we are as Doms.
“I’m okay,” she says, waving us off. “I’ve got to get home. My sitter can’t spend the night.” She leans in to kiss Hayden’s cheek. “Thanks for the lesson.”
“Any time.”
She pats me on the chest. “Flynn, nice to see you as always.”
“You, too, Cresley. Say hi to my little buddy for me.”
“I will.”
Her son, Ty, is one of my favorite kids, right up there with my own nieces and nephews.
As she heads to the elevator, Hayden pulls on a pair of sweatpants and gets busy cleaning the equipment and coiling his ropes. “I wondered if we’d see you tonight.”
“I had a thing.”
“A thing.” Hayden glances at me disdainfully. “With the child you met earlier?”
I love Hayden. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother, but damn, he pisses me off sometimes, mostly because he knows me better than anyone on earth—and never fails to remind me of that. “She’s hardly a child.” I make my way over to the bar in the corner and refill my glass. Arguing with Hayden requires reinforcements.
“You can’t be seriously considering starting something with her.”
“So what if I am?”
“Flynn, for the love of God and all that’s holy, what the fuck are you thinking?”
I nearly snort whisky out my nose at his choice of words. Only he can mix religion and fucking with such powerful effect. “I like her. She’s different.”
“You’re goddamned right she’s different. I took one look at her and could tell she’s pure as the driven snow. How do you plan to tell her about all this?” His wide gesture takes in the dungeon, the implements hanging from the wall, the hooks and cables extended from the ceiling, the spanking bench, the St. Andrew’s cross and the cabinet that contains every sex toy known to mankind.
“I don’t plan to tell her. We’re not about that.”
“You’re not about what? Sex? Since when are you not about sex?”
Since about ten o’clock this morning. I wisely decide to keep the thought to myself. Hayden is right. Everything he’s saying is true, but none of it changes how I already feel about Natalie.
Hayden stores his ropes in a cabinet that he locks with the only key. Then he turns to me, hands on his hips, the muscular chest and abs that make the ladies drool on full display. “You need to stop this before it goes any further. Didn’t you learn anything from what happened with Val?”
The mention of her name is a flashpoint for me, as he well knows. “Don’t bring her into this. She has nothing to do with it.”
“She has everything to do with it! And you know it.”
I do know it, but I don’t want to think about her now or ever. I especially don’t want to think about her in relation to Natalie.
Hayden crosses the room and takes the seat next to mine. “I don’t mean to piss on your parade.”
“Sure you do,” I say with a gruff laugh. He and I go all the way back to childhood in Hollywood with four parents in the business. Whereas mine stayed together and thrived through all the madness of fame and fortune, his self-destructed in spectacular—and very public—fashion. Hayden and I graduated together from Beverly Hills High School and often tell people we were the real-life inspiration for the show Beverly Hills, 90210. That we were eleven when the show debuted is of little consequence. We’ve never believed in letting the truth get in the way of a good story.
“Seriously, Flynn. For once I’m not trying to be a flaming asshole. I saw the way you reacted to her, and I had a bad feeling about it from the get-go.”
“Funny, I’ve had a good feeling about it from the second she barreled into me.”
He raises an eyebrow that conveys a full dose of skepticism. “Even when her dog was taking a piece out of your ass?”
“It was my arm, not my ass, and yes, even then.”
“Make me understand, because I’m
really struggling to get how someone as self-aware and intelligent as you are would willingly go down this road—again—after being so badly burned once before.”
His words strike a chord with me, even as I try to convince myself they don’t. “She’s normal, unaffected, passionate about her work, and she doesn’t give a flying fuck about who I am. Do you have any idea how refreshing that is?”
“Of course she gives a flying fuck about who you are. There’s not a woman alive who could spend five minutes with you and not be completely tuned in to who and what you are—or the parts of yourself you’ve given the world. The rest, the part you keep private, is what worries me the most—and it should worry you, too.”
“She’s no threat to me, Hayden. Shit, Cresley is a bigger threat to me than Natalie will ever be.”
“Cresley, and all the others we let in here, poses a threat to your reputation. Natalie is a threat to your mental health. Big difference.”
Did I mention Hayden knows me better than anyone?
In a low, soft tone, he says, “She’s a mouse, Flynn. A young, inexperienced, albeit strikingly gorgeous, mouse. She has no place in this life. It’ll swallow her whole and spit her out utterly changed. Is that what you want for her? You gotta stop this while you still can.”
Fuck, I hate his guts, because every word he says is true, and I can’t deny he’s one hundred percent right. I don’t dare mention that I asked her to go to the Globes with me, but then again, she never gave me an answer, so there’s really nothing to tell. And then I remember the key I gave her to my apartment.
“Don’t you ever want more?” I ask him.
“More than what?” He throws his arms out wide. “Who has it better than we do? Look at this place we built together, and not just down here. Upstairs, too.” Our production company is one of the most successful in the business, and we have the awards to prove it. We long ago dispelled the notion that we’re riding on the coattails of our successful parents. We’ve proven ourselves over and over again, until all talk of nepotism and favoritism has been erased by results.
We live by our own rules and have life by the balls. What more could we possibly want indeed? Except, sometimes… Sometimes I want more. I want the connection my parents have, that ability to catch an eye across the room and to know without a shadow of a doubt what the other half of me is thinking in that given moment. As I get further into my thirties, I’ve also begun to think, occasionally, about one day having kids of my own.
“Flynn.”
Hayden brings me back to the present, to the stark realities of this life I’ve chosen. After growing up in the shadow of my famous parents, I certainly knew what I was signing on for, although I never could’ve predicted that my fame would eclipse theirs a thousand times over. At times like this, I resent the fame, the notoriety and everything that goes with it. I also resent the needs that drive me, that have made it impossible for me to have a long-term, satisfying sexual relationship that doesn’t include domination. Those needs played a big part in the disaster my marriage became, so Hayden’s point is well taken.
“You know what you have to do.”
“Yeah.” The detour with Natalie was just that. A detour. A diversion. A night away from reality. My life is here, in the basement of Quantum, with hooks hanging from the ceiling, a willing sub bent over a spanking bench as I fuck her up the ass that I turned bright pink with my hands and paddles. Not in my wildest dreams can I ever picture Natalie as that willing sub.
Hayden is right. It’s better to stop this thing with her before it gets started. But damn, it would’ve been nice.
“You need to get laid, man. Want me to set something up for you?”
“Not tonight. I’m going home.” The thought of touching any woman who isn’t Natalie makes me sick. I hope that will pass before too long, because I need sex the way other men need air.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I tell him what he wants to hear, but I know it’ll be a while before I forget about Natalie and what could’ve been if I was someone different. I take the elevator from the dungeon straight to the parking garage, and when I get in the car, I’m greeted with the lingering remnants of her scent. I take greedy breaths on the short ride home.
When the elevator opens into my apartment, I’m again assailed by her scent, and the desire for more of her nearly brings me to my knees. Then I imagine her horror and disgust if she discovers who I really am, and I know I’m doing the right thing calling a stop to it now, while I still can.
It’s only when I toss my keys on the dresser in my bedroom that I see the keycard I gave her. Any hope I had that she might seek me out evaporates in a cloud of profound disappointment and bitter regret. In that moment, I actually hate my life for the first time ever.
Chapter 6
Snuggled into bed with Fluff at my side, I’m unable to sleep as I relive every minute of the evening I spent with Flynn. Nothing about our time together was what I’d expected. He’s right—I have to stop believing everything I read about him and other celebrities. He picked me up himself, took me to his lovely but somewhat humble home where he offered me takeout and a movie.
After what I went through early in my life, I tend to view new people with an air of cynicism. I’m very rarely surprised by anyone the way I was tonight by Flynn. I was all set to bail out of our date and come home without giving him a chance. Now I’m glad I went, and I’m looking forward to seeing him again. I’ll be on pins and needles until I hear from him.
I feel silly for expecting to actually hear from him after I was so blunt about my position on sex and relationships. Maybe I should’ve held that info back for a while. But if I had, I might’ve had to fend off an unwelcome advance, and where I’m untested in dealing with such things, I’d rather not experiment with someone like him.
He was a perfect gentleman. He respected my wishes and my feelings by keeping his distance all evening. So why am I lying awake wishing he hadn’t been such a gentleman? What might it have been like to kiss him? The thought of it makes my heart beat fast and my body tingle in ways it has never tingled before.
After tossing and turning for hours, I wake with a start when Leah comes home from work. It’s after three in the morning.
“Oh my God,” she says from my doorway. “What are you doing here?”
Groggy and out of sorts from being woken so suddenly, I rub my eyes as Fluff gives off a low growl. She hates being disturbed. “Um, I live here?”
“Only you would go out with Flynn Fucking Godfrey and come home to sleep in your own bed.”
“I don’t know why this surprises you. I told you I wasn’t going to sleep with him.”
“And I told you you’re an idiot.”
“Go away. I was sleeping.”
“Well, now you’re not.” She comes in and flops down on the other side of my queen-size bed. “Tell me every single thing that happened and leave nothing out.”
“It’s three o’clock in the morning, Leah!”
“So what? You got somewhere to be tomorrow?”
As Fluff continues to growl at Leah, I stroke her ears, which calms her. I resign myself to dealing with Leah, who shows no sign of going away. I tell her about my night with Flynn, from the moment he picked me up until the moment he brought me home.
“He seriously asked you to go to the Golden Globes with him?” Her voice is so high-pitched that Fluff whimpers from the frequency.
“Yes,” I say, laughing at her reaction. “He did.”
“What did you say?”
“We left it open-ended for the moment. I said I’d think about it.”
Groaning, Leah falls to the bed and covers her face with one of my pillows. Then she lets out a scream that makes me jolt and Fluff bark. “You are freaking insane, Natalie. Insane!”
“Why does being cautious and reasonable make me insane?”
“Because the hottest man in the world asked you to go to one of the biggest events in Hollywoo
d, and you said you have to think about it? What’s there to think about?”
“To start with, do I want to use one of my precious personal days to spend three days with a man I barely know?”
“Yes, you do want to use one of your precious personal days—what better use will you ever have for them? And it’s three days with Flynn Freaking Godfrey!”
“Will you please stop screaming before the neighbors call the cops?”
“If I told the neighbors Flynn Godfrey asked you to the Golden Globes and you told him you have to think about it, they’d call the cops on you, not me.”
“You’re being ridiculous! I just met him. How do I know if I want to spend three days in California with him?”
“I honestly don’t know what to do with you, Natalie.” Leah looks at me with what appears to be genuine concern. “I know there’s shit in your past that you don’t talk about, and I respect that. It’s just… If you don’t do this, if you don’t go with him and have this amazing adventure, you’ll always regret it.”
“I can’t jump in with both feet the way you do. I have to take my time and think about it. That’s just the way I’m wired. I’m sorry if that annoys you.”
“It doesn’t annoy me. Most of the time. But this is Flynn Godfrey. Flynn Godfrey!”
I can’t help but laugh at the faces she’s making to go along with her pleading tone. “Yes, I know his name.”
“Every single woman in America would like to be you right now. Hell, most of the married ones would like to be you, too. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’m aware that women find him appealing, yes.”
Leah snorts with laughter. “Appealing. You crack me up! He’s fucking sexy as all hell, and I’d do him in a New York minute, as would most women. I bet most men would, too.”