Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Which is why I’m having Phillipe drive me straight to Mary’s apartment from the airport.
I have news. News I don’t particularly like, but news that perhaps makes everything for the best. I found out yesterday that I have to relocate to Las Vegas for the next year. It’s the micromanager in me. This project needs someone in town to oversee it, and I’m new in the States. I can’t ask Sabrina to do it. She has a family in New York. And frankly, I don’t know anyone else who I trust enough.
I want Mary to come with me. I stalk toward her apartment and knock on the door harshly.
No one answers.
Damn her.
Where the fuck is she?
I grab my phone. I didn’t answer her text from the other day. I figured I would make more of an impression in person.
But what kind of impression am I trying to make anyway? I’m a Dominant, that doesn’t equate to a domineering bastard.
But that’s what I’m acting like.
I can’t seem to turn it off.
Mary is mine.
Mine, mine, mine…
I’m not some feral animal sweeping through the forest, looking for a mate.
I’m a human being. Dominant by nature in the bedroom. Dominant in the boardroom as well.
Jesus Christ…
It’s what I want, isn’t it?
I want to be dominant twenty-four seven. I want a twenty-four seven submissive.
I want it to be Mariah Sandusky.
Blossom.
Other Doms have touched Blossom.
No one else will again.
Only me.
I send a text.
Me: Where are you?
Mary: Is that any of your business?
Damned right it is.
But I don’t hit send.
Perhaps I need to take a step back.
This isn’t who I am.
I don’t demand that my submissive meet me at her place.
I will demand that she meet me at the club sometimes when I know we’re both available.
That’s part of being a Dominant.
But this…this is not.
Damn.
The woman is killing me.
Slowly and painfully…
It makes no sense at all.
All those years with Keira in Glasgow, and never once did I take her along when I returned to the States to see Mémé in New Orleans.
But what did I do, having known Mary for all of forty-eight hours?
I took her there.
I took her to my childhood home, introduced her to Mémé.
Hell, I’d introduce her to my parents tomorrow. All I’d have to do is get her on a flight to Glasgow.
So not me.
Or is it?
Could Mémé be right?
Maybe it’s time.
Maybe I do want more.
Yes, I want her as a full-time submissive, but perhaps…
Maybe I’m thinking about a family, children.
All those things I never thought I’d have the time or desire for.
One way to find out. It’s doubtful that Mary’s at the club. It’s Sunday night, and she has work in the morning. After she’s been off for a week.
So I’ll go to the club.
Maybe I’ll meet someone there. Maybe I need a scene. A scene with someone other than Mary. I ultimately chose not to play with Aurora at the club in Las Vegas, and perhaps that was my mistake.
Scenes remind me of what my life is truly about.
I’m not dressed in club gear, but I don’t care. Jeans and a button-down are good enough for tonight. I’ve never had any trouble attracting submissives, and I don’t expect to now.
I shove my phone back in my pocket, return to the car waiting at the curb, and ask Phillipe to take me to Black Rose Underground.
…
I head straight to a stool at the bar and order a scotch from tonight’s topless waitress.
Once I’m sipping, I look around. No Mary, but I do see her friend, Brenda—Lotus—sitting at a table with a nice-looking man.
I take my drink, rise, walk toward them.
“Good evening.”
Brenda widens her eyes at my voice. “Oh! Ronan, hi. This is my fiancé, Dalton.”
The young man rises, holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You as well. Do you mind if I join you two?”
“Not at all.” Dalton gestures to a seat next to Brenda.
I take the seat. “I’ve been trying to find Mary.”
Brenda picks up her cosmopolitan and takes a drink. “Oh?”
“You mean Blossom?” Dalton asks.
“Yes, of course. Blossom.”
“Oh, she’s here,” Dalton says.
Brenda sends her fiancé a panicked and glaring look.
“I didn’t see her when I came in,” I say.
Brenda is staring down Dalton.
He says nothing.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Blossom’s location is none of your business,” Brenda says distinctly.
Technically, she’s right. And I’m here at the club, so I need to act accordingly.
My hackles rise, though. I feel like an animal. I get up, and I’m ready to run into the back and pound on all of the private room doors, demanding that Mary show herself.
I’ll be kicked out of the club, but who cares? There are other clubs in the city.
I spent so much time researching, though, and this was the best fit for me. The best underground BDSM club in Manhattan.
But I don’t care.
Right now, all I care about is Mary.