Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
But that's exactly what I want. Nothing else will suffice. I want a fantasy as my Little. I know how it sounds. I know how it makes me sound. But it's the truth.
If I can't have her, I don't want anyone.
I sigh, striding toward the stairs leading to Roman's private office. Maybe it's time I cancel my membership. He won't like it, but this is his club to babysit, not mine. I can't spend the rest of my life helping watch over everyone here. He has Bronx and Ares Wylder to help him out. And I can't spend the rest of my life torturing myself, hoping that my fantasy actually materializes. It's a fool's errand. And I may be a lot of things, but I am no fool.
One of Bronx's security guards is stationed at the bottom of the stairs to keep people out of their private chambers, but he waves me through. I take the stairs two at a time, my steps heavy. At the top, I stop and look down at the club below.
Roman built the top floor so he can survey everything going on in the public spaces below without ever having to leave his domain if he doesn't choose to. This helps ensure everyone plays by his rules and allows him to keep a better eye on things.
I scan the club, taking it all in one final time. Once I talk to Roman and walk out tonight, it'll be for the last time. This place has been something like a home to me for the last six months. Without it, all I'd have done is sit at home and stare at the fucking walls. I'll miss the companionship that comes with being surrounded by people who know what it's like to want something society deems forbidden.
But I've gotta stop fucking torturing myself, and that's all this place has become lately. One long, endless headache. My dream girl isn't here. She'll never be here.
And I can't watch another Lucas Bordeaux fuck before I snap.
I stand there for several long moments, just watching everyone in the bar below before Roman steps up beside me, dressed in a suit and gold tie, a smirk dancing on his lips.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say your kink was watching," he says, leaning on the banister.
"If that were the case, this isn't where I'd pick to do it." There are rooms in this club designed specifically for voyeurism, which Roman knows since he designed the damn place. The only thing anyone will see from here is the negotiations happening in one of the bars below.
He chuckles, watching me from the corner of his eye. "Saw you handle the situation with Lucas Bordeaux. Thanks for that," he murmurs. "I don't know why the fuck I approved his membership."
"He may surprise you and get his shit together."
Roman snorts like he thinks hell will freeze over before that happens. He's probably right. Bordeaux was born an idiot and will die an idiot. He made his millions because he happened to get lucky.
"The only thing about Lucas Bordeaux that surprises me is the fact that he's able to get it up at all with all the fucking coke running through his system."
"You didn't drug test him before you approved his membership?" I arch a brow, surprised. Roman requires everyone who seeks membership here to submit to drug testing. Anyone who can't pass doesn't get in. It's a safety precaution.
In a place like this, the last thing you want is someone not in control of their own mental faculties coming through the doors. Safe, sane, and consensual is the name of the game. People like that are a liability in situations like this for a whole host of reasons—they're unpredictable and volatile, and if they're shooting up, they may be exposing others to things they aren't even aware they're carrying. When the men who come through these doors are billionaires, the last thing Roman can afford is a scandal like that.
"Of course, I drug-tested him." Roman shoots me a look that tells me not to be an idiot. "He was clean. I guarantee he won't be when I surprise test him before he leaves here tonight."
"Well, that'll be your problem."
"Goddamn, Micah." He sighs, not needing me to spell it out for him. "Had a feeling you were on your way out when I saw your ass out here. You had a look. I kind of fucking hoped I was wrong, though."
"I can't keep doing this shit." I scrub a hand down my face. "What I want isn't here."
Roman sighs again. "You can stop paying, but I'm not revoking your membership."
"I won't use it."
"Doesn't matter. It's still yours."
I cut my eyes at him. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a stubborn son of a bitch?"
"A few times." He shrugs, shooting me a smirk. "But guess what? I own this motherfucker. That means I get to do whatever the fuck I want."