Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Something flashes across Gabe’s expression as I look back at him.
“He met her here,” I add, listening to my heels thud across the thick carpet. He follows closely behind, close enough that I can feel his warmth. The heat is on. This far into winter, it takes a good hour for the entire place to be comfortable from the brutal cold outside.
We continue our tour, from the dining and show rooms to the upstairs lounge, where the auctions take place, to the bar.
Gabriel drinks it all in, humming at times when something especially pleases him. “You have my Port Ellen,” he notes when we’re at the bar and he takes a gander at the available whiskies. “Thirty-one year, even.”
“I always make sure to keep that in stock, even if others come in and out of fashion,” I reply softly. “It’s only available by name request, so we only go through a few bottles a year.”
I nearly say it reminds me of you. I have reminders of him throughout this place, reminding me of who I really am, but the words stay choked up at the back of my throat. Instead, I slide out a seat and take it, my legs feeling wobblier by the minute.
“Are you alright?” he asks, probably sensing the rise in emotion.
“Gabriel, I . . . it hasn’t been easy. I had to change cities, change my name.”
“We’ll talk later.” He cuts me off before I’ve had a chance to confide in him.
“Gabe, I need . . .” I practically whisper his name as if begging him.
His fingers splay through my hair, cupping the back of my head, his touch instantly calming me, instantly silencing every worry and concern.
“I want to see you how you are now,” he tells me, his thumb running back and forth in a soothing motion. “We have time. Let us make the most of this moment.” His brow raises as he waits, his gaze never wavering.
With a nod, I agree, and when he releases me, I stand up, smooth my skirt, and push the stool back in.
With my signature red dress and his classic black suit, I lead the way through Club X this time as the woman I’ve grown into. The version of me that survived what happened all those years ago.
“So, downstairs are the playrooms,” I tell him, leading him down the marble steps. “These are actually the newest part of the club. For a long time, this was just a storage area and basement. Members had to meet and could carouse in the lounge or even the auction room. The stage was used for public play, but anything more had to be done in the privacy of people’s homes.”
“Not everyone can do that, though.”
“No, and not everyone has a lifestyle that allows them to bring one or more other people into their homes,” I admit. “Some of our group play members were especially tense about it, so with Joshua’s help on the contracts and connections, we renovated this entire area into the playrooms and private apartments.”
“Private apartments too?” Gabriel asks, and I nod. “Impressive.”
“Some of the members joke that with the prices I charge for a month’s rent on a private apartment, I’m the one fucking them,” I reply with a laugh, and Gabriel laughs along. Our strides are in unison, and with every step, I worry a little less. “Here’s one that’s currently vacant. Please?”
Gabriel steps inside, taking it all in. I’ve always liked this room. It’s very clean and modern, with just enough hints of color and variation to prevent the atmosphere from being clinically severe or hotel-like.
Approaching the adjustable St. Andrew’s cross in the center of the room, Gabriel runs his hand over the sleek, smooth acrylic surface. “I’ve never been a fan of artificial furniture for play,” he says, murmuring to himself. “But I get it. I really like the design, though.” A crease forms in the center of his forehead as he adjusts it. “It tilts backward?”
“And the legs can be spread further apart,” I add playfully.
He stares at me a moment, but not in the way I anticipated. Not with lust, but with concern.
“And nobody’s recognized you in all these years?” Gabriel asks. “You’re safe?”
“I am,” I reply honestly and with a nod as I lead Gabriel out. There’s a tinge of loss as I close the door, as if we should be playing in there, rather than simply carrying on. I anticipate him asking more questions, but he doesn’t. He’s mostly silent as we complete our tour, past the see-through voyeur’s room, the black and metal hardcore room, and more. As we come back upstairs, I turn to him, my heart in my throat. “What do you think?”
Gabriel nods, giving my hand a squeeze. “It’s different from the club where I met you, and in a good way. You have more here, more choices. But in the way you’ve done it, everything is elegant, controlled . . .” I can’t help the grin that grows on my face or the way my body warms with his praise. He must know how much he gets to me because he adds with a grin of his own, “You were right. You’ve crafted a sensual playground that’s safer for every member, Dom and sub, than we ever had. I can assume you’ve had a few bad endings, yes?”