Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I’m not saying it was exactly the same. But I wasn’t one of the popular people, either, Skye.”
She says nothing more until Maralee returns.
“Sorry it took so long.” She places my water in front of me first. “What can I get you, sir?”
“It’s customary to take the lady’s order first, I think.”
Skye’s cheeks redden.
So do Maralee’s. “Oh. Of course. What’ll it be, Skye?”
Skye meets her gaze, burning two holes in the waitress with her eyes. “The special.”
“Make that two,” I say.
“Sure. Do you want anything else to drink?”
“Just water,” I say.
“Yeah, water’s fine,” Skye agrees.
“You want to tell me more about your high school days?” I ask once Maralee is gone.
She smiles, and for a moment I think she may, but then she shakes her head. “Not really. Maybe someday. But honestly, Braden, high school wasn’t anything to me. I did well, and I got into BU. So Maralee didn’t lower herself to talk to me. I wasn’t bullied, just ignored. It’s not something that lives in my soul or anything.”
“What does live in your soul, Skye?”
She breathes in. “A lot of things. I’m figuring it out, Braden. I’m figuring it out.”
Interesting. I believe her. I’ve gotten pretty good at reading her, and I don’t think her issues stem from any high school experience. Time will tell if I’m right.
After a tasty lunch—Skye was right; the pasta was to die for—we head back to the hotel where my ride is waiting. I go up to the room, grab my luggage, and give Skye a long, open-mouthed kiss. My cock is ready to take her here and now, but I force my other head to rule.
It’s time for me to leave.
“See you soon,” I say. Then I get into the cab.
As we drive away, I watch until Skye is no longer visible.
Back to New York for me.
Back to work. I pull up the Zoom app for my meeting with Dimitri and Lizzie.
And tonight?
Back to Black Rose Underground.
Chapter Eighteen
“Good to see you, Mr. Black,” the security guard, Claude, says to me as I enter my BDSM club, Black Rose Underground.
It’s located in the underground floor of my residential building in Manhattan. It’s in New York for a reason, rather than in my hometown of Boston.
I like to keep this part of my life private.
Very private.
Every member and guest of the club signs a non-disclosure agreement upon entering. They must also surrender their cell phones. No photography is allowed in the club.
I keep my cell phone, though. I’m the owner, after all, and I know better than to capture anyone’s likeness in a photograph. I don’t want it done to me, and I won’t do it to anyone else.
“Thanks, Claude. Always good to see you, too,” I say.
“You alone tonight?”
I nod.
He cocks his head at me but doesn’t make any further inquiry. None of his business, after all, though I can understand his curiosity. The last couple times I’ve been here, Skye has been with me—collared by me.
“Enjoy yourself,” Claude says.
I nod. “I always do.”
I walk into the club. It’s early yet, only nine thirty p.m., and it’s Sunday, which means the crowd will be smaller than normal. Our biggest crowds are Friday and Saturday evenings, of course, but we do okay the other nights as well. We used to be closed on Sundays, but we got enough requests to make it worthwhile to stay open every night of the week except for Christmas Day and New Year’s Day. Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve, however, are huge here.
I walk into the club. Jazz music wafts from the sound system, not too soft and not too loud. Perfect. One thing I dislike about most lifestyle clubs is that the music is often too loud. Communication is key in any kind of BDSM arrangement, and I don’t want it hampered.
Scantily clad couples—and one throuple—move on the dance floor. I head straight back to the bar, where two bartenders are working, one male and one female, both topless. All our bartenders and waitstaff are topless here. It’s a requirement.
“Mr. Black,” Cheryl, one of the bartenders greets me. “The usual?”
“Absolutely.”
She slides a lowball of Wild Turkey, neat, in front of me. I take a slow sip, letting it burn my throat in the perfect way that I love.
“Looking for something special tonight?” she asks.
“Not especially.”
She smiles. “Let me know if you need anything.” She turns to help another member.
Part of me is itching for a scene. The vanilla sex with Skye satisfied me emotionally in a way I never knew I needed.
But the dark part of my soul longs for something more. To exert my dominance over a willing partner. I can find that here, but I need to find someone who will be satisfied with no physical contact. I won’t have sex with another woman. I can’t. Not when I’m in love with Skye. We may not technically be together at the moment, but fucking another woman feels all kinds of wrong to me.