Chapter Two

This may be the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, and I don"t even get to take the credit. I always imagined that when I said I did something completely outrageous, that I"d at least be able to say that it was my idea, but no. I don"t even get the glory. My best friend, Corey, does.

Rude.

My knees practically shake as the massive bouncer at the door takes our invitations and our IDs and looks us over. He stares hard, as if he"s scouring my mind for every bad thought in my head.

I blink wide eyes at him, trying to appear calm and confident even though I"m a quivering mess inside.

I don"t belong in this place.

Part of me hopes he realizes that and sends me on my way.

"Go on in," he practically growls, dashing that hope all to pieces. "Keep your clothes on in public rooms and keep play to designated areas. If you need help, find a monitor. And most importantly, keep play safe, sane, and consensual." He cuts his piercing blue eyes at me, his bald head gleaming. "Have fun."

"Not likely," I mutter, my stomach turning somersaults.

"Did you say something?"

Crap. He heard me.

"Nothing," I squeak, my face blazing with heat.

Corey loops his arm through mine as the behemoth motions us into the club. My heart pounds like a freaking drum. This is a terrible idea.

My bestie is no longer my bestie.

"I hate you," I hiss to him.

"Love you too, boo," he says, blowing me a kiss.

We step out of the foyer into the hallway of the club. I think about slamming my eyes closed to pretend we aren"t really inside a BDSM club, but quickly decide that"d be childish and resist the urge. I"m supposed to be a sophisticated adult out for a night of naughty fun.

I"ve never felt less like an adult than I do right now…and I"ve never felt much like an adult. I"m twenty-four, but most days, I still feel like I"m bumbling through this whole adulthood thing, trying to figure it out.

Aside from my career, the rest of my life is a disaster. I"ve never been very good at taking care of myself. I should be a pro by now, considering I"ve been doing it for most of my life. And yet…I still haven"t mastered it.

The sad truth is I don"t think I want to master it. The Sterling Rope may not be the place for me, but I ache for something I"ve never admitted to anyone except for Corey.

I don"t want to be tied down and put on display, walked on a leash, or shared or punished with pain. None of that sounds like a good time to me.

I just want one man to love me unconditionally. For once, I don"t want to have to worry every moment of the day. For once, I want to know what it"s like not to have to worry at all. I want to let it all go and…feel.

I want a daddy.

I shiver, pulling my arm from Corey"s to wrap mine around myself. Even thinking about what I want feels salacious and forbidden, which is ridiculous. I"ll never find the daddy of my dreams if I can"t even think about him without blushing.

"Come on." Corey smirks, practically quivering with anticipation as he cuts right, heading toward the bar. "Let"s get this party started."

Of course he"s excited. As soon as he found out about this place, he applied for membership. It has to be difficult being a gay submissive in a town like Silver Spoon Falls. Everyone tries to set him up with every gay man they know, but they"re always these nice, innocent boys who don"t know the first thing about handling a submissive like Corey.

Coming here in a town like Silver Spoon Falls, where everyone knows your business, is completely terrifying to me. What if someone finds out I was here? What if they find out my secret? I haven"t been in town for very long. I don"t want to be ostracized simply because I want the things I want.

I"ve tried for a long time to pretend I don"t crave what I do, but I"ve never been able to wish it away. I"m not convinced I"ll find it here, and coming is a big risk to take. But I"m here now, and I won"t leave Corey alone to fend for himself.

So, I take a deep breath and reluctantly follow him to the bar, praying I don"t live to regret this.

"This place is insane!" Corey calls over his shoulder, grinning at me as soon as we enter the bar.

"It"s definitely something," I whisper back, staring in shock at the elegant bar. It"s not at all what I expected. Then again, I"m not sure what I expected. Naked people? Whips and chains? I don"t know!

This is tasteful elegance steeped in luxury. The bar itself runs along one entire wall. Recessed lighting sets the mood, with elegant tables and high-back booths scattered around the rest of the space. Men in thousand-dollar suits and women dripping jewels lounge around, sipping expensive cocktails.

Some are obviously together. One woman is snuggled up on an older man"s lap while he pets her hair. Another is tucked carefully against a younger man"s side. Others are less familiar with one another but are engaged in lively conversation.

"Fisting is acceptable," a petite blonde says cheerfully. "Anal and vaginal. Choking is a hard limit."

"How do you feel about choking on cock?" her companion asks.

I quickly rip my gaze away from their table, my face on fire. Clearly, this is an important conversation. And it"s not my business. But my stomach quivers with anxiety anyway.

Anal fisting?

Maybe I should have reminded Corey that I"m a virgin before I let him drag me here. I think he may have forgotten that important, glaring detail.

"Um, Corey? I really don"t think I should be here," I whisper-hiss, trying not to panic. Maybe if I tell myself I"m a sophisticated adult often enough, I"ll start to believe it. Or maybe I"m full of crap, and I should just go before I decide that I should die a virgin.

Anal fisting?I didn"t even know that was a thing you could do.

"You should definitely be here, Davina." He loops his arm through mine, tipping his head down so I can hear him. "You can do this, girl. You"re a strong, independent woman, and you can explore whatever the fuck you want to explore here. No judgment. Everyone here has their own kinks. They aren"t going to judge you for yours."

He makes it sound so compelling.

"N-no judgment?" I question…just to make sure.

"None at all."

"Ten minutes. I"ll stay for ten min—"

"Remove your fucking hands from her if you want to keep them."

I glance up, not sure who the angry man is growling at, only to find him looming over me and Corey like a bristling wall of fury. My eyes connect with his, and I get a little lost.

Wow.

I always heard that perfection existed, but I never really believed it until right this moment. But this man is perfection.

He"s a solid wall of muscle, standing tall and formidable. The fabric of his suit doesn"t disguise the ripple of each hard line of his body. He"s Atlas, more than capable of bearing the world on his broad shoulders.

His hair is a dark storm cloud, peppered with flecks of silver and white that give him an air of authority. And his eyes—Lord, those eyes are the deepest shade of whiskey, warm but undeniably potent. They"re penetrating, stripping me bare. But there"s a gentleness in them, too, a promise of comfort and protection.

His lips are set in a hard line. And yet I can"t help but imagine how his lips would feel on mine— warm, claiming, soft, yet completely dominating.

He"s angry for reasons I don"t understand, but I"m not afraid. His anger incites an inexplicable sense of safety as I gape at him, unable to tear my gaze away. His is so stern and unyielding, those whiskey eyes boring into me as if he"s trying to see into my soul.

I swallow hard, my heart a wild drumbeat against my ribcage. He"s absolutely captivating—the embodiment of every fantasy I didn"t even know I had.

My entire body flushes under his stern gaze. The strength of my attraction to him is shocking. I"d never met someone who affected me this way.

I bite my lip, trying to fight a whimper.

The instinctive move cracks his hard shell. His expression softens, his gaze turning downright smoldering.

Corey shifts beside me, and the stranger whips his head in his direction like a predator scenting prey. "Remove your fucking hands from her now," he snaps, powerful command in his voice.

Corey doesn"t have to be told again. He releases me as if I burned him, dropping his gaze to the floor. He seems to shrink slightly, his head bowed. He"s almost…docile.

"Who are you?" I whisper to the stranger before I can stop myself. He must be important if Corey is reacting this way.

"Micah Borden," he growls, his eyes still locked on Corey. "Is she yours?"

Micah Borden—I know that name. He"s one of the richest men in Silver Spoon Falls and our law firm"s new client. Come Monday, my boss will be renegotiating all the contracts for his financial firm. We"ll be on retainer for anything else he needs.

I want to cry at the news. For the first time, I"ve found a man I"m interested in, and I can"t do anything about it.

This sucks.

"No. We"re just friends. She"s not taken."

"What"s your name?"

"Corey Fulton."

"Do you know who I am, Corey?"

"Yes."

Micah jerks his chin in a nod. "I"d like to speak to her privately. She"ll be safe with me. I won"t allow anything to happen to her."

Corey"s gaze darts to me as if to ask if this is what I want, but I"m frozen like a deer in the headlights. The man of my dreams wants to speak to me privately. And I just found out that he"s our new client.

"If that"s what she wants…" Corey says, his voice full of uncertainty.

"I…"

"Please, baby girl," Micah whispers, his voice like the rumble of thunder in the distance. "I promise I"ll take care of you."

Baby girl.He called me baby girl.

"Okay," I whisper, helpless to do anything but agree when those whiskey eyes are locked on mine, and that name still lingers in the air between us.

Lord help me. I think this man might be Kryptonite.