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“Most of them don’t, no. But it’s not that they each think of the other as a dirty secret. A kinky secret, maybe, but not a dirty one. For them, this is their place. This is where they can come to shed all the shit going on in their lives. Here, they can let it all go and be themselves. Here, the only thing they have to concentrate on is each other.”
The waitress appeared and put two glasses of red wine on the table. She blushed at Blake’s nod of thanks.
“Some of the members are focused on their careers,” Blake went on when we were alone again. “They don’t have time for the dating game. But, like you, they don’t want something impersonal. Add in that their sexual preferences aren’t conventional and it becomes even harder for them to find something that works—especially if they’re celebrities and like to keep said preferences private.”
I took a sip of wine. “And this works for them?”
“Yes, and I think it would work for us. Agreeing to an arrangement like this would address both our problems, Kensey. Neither of us can invest in a relationship right now, but you don’t want a hook-up. You don’t want to feel used and discarded. You don’t want something cold. Does what they have look cold to you?”
No, it didn’t. They looked relaxed. As if, just as he’d said, they’d shed all their worries. I supposed there weren’t many places where people wouldn’t bat an eyelid at your partner kneeling at your feet instead of sitting beside you.
“And I’ve come to realize that a one-night stand wouldn’t cut it with you,” Blake added, voice deepening. “There are just too many things I want to do to you.”
I swallowed, a little flustered by the raw need that was practically carved into his face. “You don’t see this as a form of relationship?”
“What we’d have is an arrangement. The boundaries would be clear. Our lives would be our own. We’d each know where we stood. But it wouldn’t be impersonal.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “This might not be a conventional way to meet you in the middle, but I believe it would work.”
It struck me that, hey, he really had made an effort to find a compromise. “If I said yes, how would it work? What are the rules?” I didn’t do well with rules.
“The only rules will be the ones we make for ourselves.”
“And you would, to a certain extent, expect me to obey you?” That would be a major problem.
“I’m not going to ask you to keep your eyes on the floor, wear a collar, or speak only when I give you permission to do so. I told you, I don’t want a sub. I won’t expect you to do anything. But will I try to control you in the bedroom? Yes, I will.” He drank some of his wine. “Notice that there’s a certain dress etiquette here that people follow to avoid misunderstandings.” Placing a hand on my thigh, he leaned toward me, though his eyes were running along the others in the room. “See how many people are wearing something red?”
I glanced around, annoyed that I hadn’t noticed it before. There were many red ties, shirts, dresses, sashes, and pieces of jewelry. Some people wore items of clothing with red stripes or patterns. “Yeah.”
“That means that, within the confines of the Vault at least, they’re taken. Off-limits. No one will approach them with the intent of making a pass at them. I’d expect you to wear something red to signal that you’re claimed. I’d do the same.”
“Some of these people appear to be in threesomes. Even foursomes. Or maybe they’re just grouping together for the night, I don’t know …”
“No one but me would touch you,” he said, sensing my concern. “And I wouldn’t touch anyone but you.”
“What about when we’re outside the Vault?”
“I’d like that exclusivity to still apply. I know from how I felt seeing Cade at your apartment earlier that sharing you would be … difficult for me.”
I was glad of that. The whole ‘seeing other people thing’ just wasn’t something I could navigate without getting pissed at someone. “Okay, let me get this straight. Here, I’d be yours. Out of the Vault, my life would be my own. The two worlds wouldn’t mix. But neither of us would date other people.”
“That’s right.”
I worried my lower lip. “How often would we meet here?”
“As often as we wanted.”
“Would I have to keep it a secret?”
His fingers briefly paused in doodling on my thigh. “If you mean could you tell Sarah, yes. I’d rather Sherry and Dodger didn’t know.”
“I wouldn’t tell them anyway.” Nor Cade or Clear. None of them would get it. They’d tell me I was worth more. I was. But Blake would never be the person to give me more. And that realization caused a twist of pain in my stomach—a twist that was dangerous, unexpected, and gave me pause. “I need to think about it.”
“What do you need to think about?” he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle and patient.
I just needed to be sure this could work for me. I could see why this kind of arrangement would appeal to him. He fed all his energy into his own life. A relationship would mean giving up some of the control he held over that life, and it was clear that Blake had a hard time giving up any. He didn’t want another set of opinions, routines, and obligations to consider. Didn’t want responsibilities or ties. And if I went along with this, I’d need to be good with that. Right now, I was. But if that changed, this ‘arrangement’ would eat at my pride and leave me hurting.
“If you have questions, Kensey, just ask.”
Well, I did have one. “I can tell by the way some of the women here are looking at you that you’ve, let’s say, indulged yourself. How many arrangements have you had with people here?”
“None.”
I blinked. “None? Why not? I mean, you’re a guy.” A highly sexual one. “Guys tend to like regular sex with no strings.”
“As you correctly guessed, I indulged. Sometimes it was regular sex with no strings, but I didn’t stake a claim on any of the women because I didn’t want to. Besides, most of them wanted a Dom; I don’t wish to be one. I simply like control.”
I took another sip from my glass. “Have you ever been in a real relationship?”
His face blanked. “No.”
“That was a lie.”
He didn’t deny it. He also didn’t look in the least bit apologetic for lying.
“I don’t expect you to share dark secrets or bare your soul. But like I told you this morning, I’m not interested in fucking a stranger.”
After a long moment, he shrugged. “I was too young for it to count as a real relationship.”
Something about the way he said that made the hairs on my nape rise. “How young?”
His jaw hardened. “Seventeen.”
So not illegally young, good.
He slid his warm hand a little further up my thigh. “Tell me about Cade.”
“We’ve been close friends since we were kids. We dated when we were in high school for about a year.”
“But you’ve slept together since then, haven’t you?”
I shifted in my seat. “There were a few random encounters.” When we were drunk or lonely.
“When did the last one occur?”
