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“This could be really, really bad,” Cora said, her blue eyes wide.
An icy shiver sped down Presley’s spine. She knew most members didn’t have to worry. While a few submissives had teaching jobs, many of the others had standard nine-to-five jobs. Of course they wouldn’t want their private lives shared, but Presley suspected the tabloid would focus on the men who stood out in the professional world in Las Vegas.
Dmitri, president of Aces Casino. Aidan, a respected defense attorney. Porter, Vegas’s top private investigator. Kyler, the police chief’s son and a police officer himself. Ella, Cora, and Kenzie would be exposed, too, because they had married those men. Presley suspected she’d be thrown into the mix as well, since she’d been dating Dmitri for almost two years.
Tears filled Presley’s eyes as those scary thoughts and more overwhelmed her. The room had emptied, but she couldn’t find the strength to move. Not because Club Sin had to close for the time being but because of Dmitri’s desolate stare.
I need you. Come close, her heart begged.
He stared right through her, though, his eyes glassy. He was so withdrawn into himself that for the first time ever, he’d become blind to her emotional state and needs. When he turned to leave the dungeon without coming to check on her, Presley’s knees buckled.
“Aidan needs me,” Cora said, dragging Presley’s attention away from her misery and Dmitri’s despair. “I have to go. Will you be okay?”
“Yeah.” No, her mind screamed. She wasn’t okay. Dmitri wasn’t okay.
For the first time since they’d started dating, Presley had the oddest sensation that things between them weren’t okay, either.
Chapter 2
The next morning, just minutes before nine o’clock, Dmitri fastened the cuff link onto his white dress shirt, gazing at the beauty sleeping soundly in the king-size bed. Nestled under a white duvet and surrounded by more pillows than Dmitri thought necessary, Presley slept peacefully. He liked that, thinking in this mess she needed to rest. Her long blond hair draped over the pillow, the lashes of her closed eyes rested on her cheeks, and her freckled nose scrunched as she gave a soft sleepy moan.
Captured by her angelic innocence, Dmitri felt his cock flare with heat, swelling inside his pants. Presley lay on her side, the covers tangled between her legs, tempting him to return to her. An urge to rip off those covers consumed him, calling for him to settle himself between those warm thighs.
Not now.
He knew this situation couldn’t wait, and he hastily reminded himself that his members counted on him to make this right. Shoving away his selfish needs to feel better than he did now, he fastened the other cuff link to his shirt, taking in Aces’ Presidential Suite. Decorated with thick dark wood furniture, the richly designed space impressed him. The designer he’d recently hired had nailed his intent of giving the casino a more modern look, and the heavily detailed furniture gave the room a luxurious feel.
On one hand, he’d never been more proud of the casino and what he’d done for the company. On the other hand, he hated bringing Presley here. The thought that he’d had to bring her to the casino last night because she wasn’t safe in his house made him sick to his stomach.
His chest tightened as he turned to grab his jacket off the chair, knowing that his beloved club was burning around him. He knew he should wake Presley and talk to her about all this, but he didn’t want to talk about anything.
He wanted to fix the problem and make Club Sin safe again.
Determinedly he put on his jacket, giving Presley one last look before he left for the day. He sensed the distance between them now, but as much as he hated it, she couldn’t be his sole focus. It was his job to make her life easier. It was his duty to ensure the safety of the Club Sin members. Until he fulfilled his responsibilities, what he needed must remain off in the distance.
He drew in a deep breath, going to the inner place where he went to when dealing with business. Pushing away the emotion for Presley and the sadness coursing through his veins at his failures, he exited the hotel room, leaving her behind.
Within minutes, he made it into the elevator and whizzed down to the third floor, where the casino’s offices were located. The door chimed open, revealing the bright reception area with Aces in big black bold letters against a waterfall wall behind the reception desk.
On any other day, he might have been amused at his staff’s covert eyeing of the four men waiting in the reception area, inhabiting the space as if they owned it. “Let’s go into the meeting,” he said to the Club Sin Masters as they all rose to greet him.
Dmitri strode past the receptionist’s desk and headed into the boardroom on the left. It came as no surprise to see his assistant, Victoria, already in the room and placing the coffeepot next to the mugs on the thick oak table. “Thank you, Victoria,” he told her softly. “Please hold all calls.”
“Of course,” Victoria said with her usual sweet smile. “Is th
ere anything else I can get for you, sir?”
“That will be all.”
She bobbed her head in acknowledgment and then moved to the door, waiting until all the Club Sin Masters entered the room before she left, shutting the door behind her.
Dmitri poured himself a cup of coffee. As the other Masters followed his move, he took his seat at the head of the table. He took a long sip of the coffee, its warmth and hint of sugar comforting him. He lowered the mug, studying the other men sitting around the table. It seemed odd, bringing his personal and professional life together in his boardroom. All the same, it helped with the detachment. “Sarah didn’t call me last night, which I take it to mean she has no other news.”
Kyler added sugar to his coffee. “I’m not sure if that’s good news or not.”
Dmitri nodded and then turned to Aidan, who sat on Dmitri’s right. Dark circles rested under his friend’s eyes. Dmitri sympathized with his exhaustion; he’d spent most of the night on the phone with Club Sin members, trying to ease their worries. “Would a lawsuit against the tabloid help or hurt us?”
Aidan sipped his coffee, then gave an easy shrug. “While it could scare the tabloid enough to hand over the pictures, it could also cause the Streisand effect.”
