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For now, though, I’m going to keep adding to my bank account. That is one thing about my line of work. At some point, I’ll have a harder time getting clients and I’ll be forced to retire at a younger age than most career women. So, I spend most of my time working and adding to my retirement account. Because once I retire, I want to enjoy life comfortably for a very long time without having to reinvent myself and pick up a new line of work.
I pull up my website and send out a newsletter to my digital client list offering a sale on custom content. Something tells me Luke is going to leave me here alone a lot, so I might as well have something to pass the time.
By the time I have to get ready for a night at the sandwich shop—I like calling it that now that I’m in on the secret—I have enough custom sales to make up for most of the work I lost to this little side trip to Vegas and that knowledge has me feeling confident as I slip into a little red dress that I know will drive Luke crazy. Then I make a call to Skylar and ask her for a little favor.
Chapter 13
Luke
Zaratookmyrequestthat she wear something red to the max. Her dress, heels, jewelry, and even her lipstick are all blood red and she’s fucking stunning.
I, on the other hand, am in all black save for a red tie that matches her dress perfectly. It was lying on my bed for me when I got home. I’ve got plenty of red ties, but this one is from Zara. And suddenly it’s my favorite.
“Have you ever played at a club before,” I ask as we drive from the hotel to the club. This time I’m driving a red Porsche.
“Not at a BDSM club. At a club in London, I was supposed to, but things went wrong, and it didn’t happen. I’ve been to plenty of swinger’s clubs, but usually even those visits are pre-sex fun where I’m only there as arm candy or to engage with someone’s wife and help her relax into swinging. I’ve done some Pro-Domme work before, but I prefer for that to be one-on-one.”
My possessive side flares, and I tamp it down. It’s not so bad that I want to hunt down all her clients, past and present, and kill them, but it’s pretty damn close. Still, I understand that her work is meaningful to her. But the thought of her leaving me in a week or two when all of this is wrapped up is painful. I have plenty of money. If I wanted to book her from here to eternity, I could afford it. But she’s made it clear that she won’t be beholden to a single client. Her list is her insurance policy against getting trapped in a situation she doesn’t want to be in. And the businessman in me respects that. The way she’s built her empire from the ground up—and it is a god damn empire—is impressive. Taking that away from her seems wrong.
And yet, if she were mine, it would never fly for her to be an escort. Not when people rely on my tact and privacy. If word got out that my wife sleeps with other men for money, it would ruin much of the trust we’ve built among the various families across the country.
Wife? Jesus. Why the hell am I thinking of her that way? We’ve known each other for exactly four days. I need a swift kick in the ass.
“Would you be opposed to doing something with me?” I ask as we pull into the parking lot, doing my best to focus on the now instead of focusing on the future that doesn’t include her.
“What did you have in mind?”
Turning the car off, I turn and pick up her hand. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper submissive at my feet. Let’s start there and see where the night takes us.”
Zara kneeling for me—the mere thought of it turns my dick into steel. I can’t explain how badly I want to see it.
She doesn’t say anything as I open my door and come around to let her out.
“And what if I’m not comfortable with sex in public?”
I chuckle. “Your profile seems to show otherwise, but I’m not much of an exhibitionist. If I want to fuck you, we’ll go to a private room. But there are plenty of other things we can do that will enhance your pleasure and make you come that much harder when I do fuck you.”
We walk hand in hand, and for now, the conversation is over. I’ll pick it back up after we check in and have our first drink.
At least that’s the plan for now. Who knows what the night will bring.
Inside, I’m greeted by several of the submissives working in the spades room tonight. With prostitution laws being what they are, we have to be careful about what club submissives can do, but many of them are paid members themselves, and they also help us out with creating the atmosphere we want to have. Our members are often rich and entitled, and they insist on having their needs catered to very specifically.
It’s often my job to make sure that happens, especially with the richest and most powerful VIP clients.
But tonight, my primary focus is Zara. I want her to have a good time while she’s here. I’m not trying to convince her to stay in Vegas. At least that’s what I tell myself. A part of me knows it’s a lie.
At the bar, we order our drinks and carry them to one of several small tables set up in the vicinity.
“Will you tell me the story of how this place started?” she asks as she looks around.
“That’s complicated. The club itself was one of Matteo’s dreams. He’s the real BDSM connoisseur of the bunch. Owen is pretty heavy into it as well. I enjoy it, but not on the same level those two do. And Victor likes to fuck however he can.”
“But you insist on being in charge in bed. Seems like classic BDSM to me. Not to mention you pulled out a blindfold.”
I chuckle. “Maybe. But I guess I don’t need all the trappings the way they do.”
“Now that makes more sense. Because you’re definitely a Dom.”
