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She shoved the thoughts away. Tonight she had other problems: one big, growly Dom who sought to find answers that Cora knew he should stay far away from. She lifted her chin and reminded herself of the reasons she and Porter broke up.
You wanted passion.
You craved that spark.
You found that in Aidan.
He needs more time and you can wait for him.
Chapter Eight
Shortly after nine o’clock and on a quiet street in Chinatown, Aidan stood on the sidewalk beneath the streetlight. He stared at the bright neon sign: Chains. His chest constricted at the blue and purple lights glowing out into the night.
This had been his and Lily’s club.
She had died while he was a member, and in the year after her death he hadn’t played once, even though he came to the club on weekends. It wasn’t until Dmitri opened Club Sin that Aidan took a new submissive into a scene.
A new club. A fresh start.
He’d lived that way for a year—playing with submissive after submissive, until Cora joined Club Sin and Dmitri had asked him to train her. After her initial training, both Cora and Aidan had played with others in Club Sin, but within that first year they slowly began to play only with each other.
It worked.
Aidan loved playing with Cora.
No one else had caught his eye.
As he stared at the club that had once been his weekly hangout, part of him hesitated to go any farther. Lily had touched the walls of this club, she’d sat in the chairs, and she’d known many of the members.
Though the reminder of Lily nearly made Aidan leave, he hadn’t come for himself. He’d come for Cora. He could never forget what he saw in the depths of her eyes, nor could he pretend that he believed what she told him.
Something deeply troubled her.
He wouldn’t relent until he had an answer—a true answer. He was trained not only to read through lies, but he navigated through a story to find the truth. With that motive strong on his mind, he approached the bouncer.
The tall and lanky dark-haired man gave him an once-over. “Observer or player?”
“Observer,” Aidan replied.
The bouncer slid a red rubber bracelet around Aidan’s wrist and added, “Read the rules on the bulletin board. Even if you don’t play, rules must be followed.” The bouncer waved him forward. “I need to search you.”
Aidan spread out his arms and widened his legs. As the bouncer searched him, Aidan ignored the way his arms trembled, reminding himself his pain meant nothing now. The bouncer patted him down, not only searching for dangerous items or drugs but also a camera or cell phone.
Once the bouncer gave Aidan the go-ahead, a hammering heart led him into the club. He scanned the large, open space, drawing in a deep breath of the musky air. Chains always reminded him of a typical dance club, though the BDSM equipment stationed around the walls set this club apart.
His stomach roiled as he forced himself to walk. Not here for you. He moved through the foyer and noticed the list of rules on the bulletin board. With a tight chest, he breathed deep and scanned the rules.
He discovered the rules hadn’t changed since he’d played there—typical regulations that most BDSM clubs enforce, such as not interrupting a scene, respecting safe words, and disinfecting the stations.
The rules stated that Dungeon Monitors had a higher authority, and their word on any scene was final. Observers were strictly there to watch the play. Unless they wore a green wristband, they were not authorized to participate.
Fine by him.
Uncontrollable tension ran through him as he left the bulletin board behind, and he forced each step through the dark club. As if his returning to Chains mirrored returning to hard memories of Lily. Heady sensations gripped him. Raw emotions that he’d thought he’d overcome consumed him.
With an empty feeling in his stomach, he continued farther into the club, passing tables where at one he spotted a woman with a dog collar around her neck and a leash attached. Every station was lit up with a huge spotlight above. The rest of the club, except for the small lamps at the tables, was bathed in darkness. He inhaled the scent of hot sex and his cock didn’t so much as twitch.
Time skidded to a halt as his gaze had landed on the spanking bench in the far corner. His heartbeat slowed as a memory consumed him, nearly dropping him to his knees.
