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; Presley laughed, easing the tension she felt inside. Maybe she was thinking too much, worrying too much, and not understanding Dmitri’s stress. Though a lingering thought reminded her: You would understand if he told you what he was going through. “Let me grab my things.” She moved to the table by the front door, and as she reached for her phone and purse, she couldn’t help but look.
No new messages.
Shoving away her nearly shattered heart, she tucked her phone in her purse. “Ready.”
Ready to leave the depressing thoughts behind, to stop worrying about Club Sin, and to quit thinking about Dmitri.
Ready for a damn glass of wine.
Chapter 3
Presley awoke with a jolt, opening an eye. 10:00 glowed bright green in the dark room. She lifted her head off the pillow, noticing that Dmitri wasn’t beside her—again. Having no idea if he’d even come home, she sighed and pushed off the duvet. Earlier at lunch with the Club Sin girls, she’d had three glasses of wine. By seven o’clock, she’d hit the bed and fallen fast asleep.
As she exited the bed, the warm air brushed across her naked flesh. In her tipsy state she had apparently stripped off her clothes, leaving them on the floor by the bed. She heard soft piano music coming from the living room, so she grabbed a robe from the closet and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Two steps away from the door she realized it had been closed to only a crack, indicating Dmitri had been in the bedroom at some point. Her feet dragged against the carpet as she pulled open the door. The warm light from the table lamp in the living room spilled into the bedroom. Then she saw him.
Shadowed in the dark corner, Dmitri sat with his ankle crossed over his knee. He held a glass of scotch against the armrest; his head bowed to his lap.
“Dmitri,” she said softly.
He didn’t lift his head or show any other sign he knew she was there. All day her aggravation at being ignored had built and built, and now her anger at the situation boiled over. She asked with a bite to her voice, “Why are you shutting me out?”
“I need to deal with this, Presley. There is a lot going on. You must understand.”
“I do understand. What I don’t get is why won’t you talk to me about it.” She moved closer toward him, pulled by the desperate need to reconnect. She craved for them to return to some level of what they once had only days ago, something that was unexplainable, perfect. “Let me be here for you.”
“No.”
His curt voice stopped her in her tracks. Then when he added, “I don’t want to talk about this. I want to fix it,” the remaining strands holding her together snapped.
Yes, she expected a Dom answer. But deep in her heart she thought there was more to their love than a D/s relationship. Still, his answers, his actions, were making her believe that he wanted a submissive both in the dungeon and out of it.
And that’s not want she wanted.
Also, it wasn’t what she had agreed to.
Betrayal slid through her like a disease, and she trembled with the force of it. She loved submission and found freedom in letting go, but only in the bedroom or in the dungeon. Her parents had shown her what true love was—a relationship built on strong trust, communication, and respect—and that’s what she wanted for herself. Not this distance where Dmitri kept his pain to himself instead of sharing it with her.
Tears welled, and she barely managed, “You’re breaking my heart, Dmitri.”
His head finally lifted. Desolate eyes stared back at her. “Right now, doll, we don’t have the luxury to think of ourselves.”
She cringed at those words. Yet somehow it was exactly what she needed to hear. He spoke the truth. And it was sad. Dmitri always put everyone else first, and Presley knew all his strain was because he was thinking of Charles, of what the club symbolized, and of the members who now feared being exposed.
Her mind raced to think of a way to help him. “What do you need me to do? I want to be there for you. I don’t want you to shut me out.”
His expression tightened. “You want to help me?”
“Yes, of course.”
She shivered against the power blazing in his eyes. Not only because he looked lost and desperate, but because he was a Dominant. Dmitri was a man who believed he’d failed all the people he’d vowed to protect. His club meant everything to him, yet Club Sin was slipping through his fingers. She craved for him to lean on her now, not push her away. To share what this was doing to him.
So that, just maybe, she could help him.
Looking at his expression, she realized there was one thing she could do for him. Maybe it was part desperation on her part, too, but she needed him close. She couldn’t stand this distance any longer. Doing the only thing she could do for him now, she dropped the robe from around her shoulders, exposing her naked body to her Dom. She offered her warmth in hopes that it would envelop him and ease the coldness in his soul.
