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“I don’t want to be in a relationship,” I mutter as I turn to face him. “I just want to keep being Madame Kink until I’m as old as you.”
“Hey now,” he replies. With his mostly gray hair and fine lines, I do enjoy teasing him about his age, although he never acts it anymore. At fifty-seven, he’s got a new bride and a new baby and still hits the club like a twenty-one-year-old.
“And who said you can’t keep being Madame Kink?” he replies. “Plenty of sex workers are in committed relationships.”
“Are people still going to want me?” I ask, hating the way my insecurities sound.
Ronan scoffs. “Eden, people will always want you as long as you keep being you. It’s not about your age or your dating status, or your homelife. You have this thought in your head that Eden and Madame Kink are two different people, but they’re not. Eden is just as sexy and as confident as her Salacious alter ego. Being a mother or in a relationship is not going to change that.
“If anything,” he adds, leaning forward, “I think it’s time you let Eden work at the club too.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
“It means you could put those management skills I know you must have to good use and take the job Emerson is offering you.”
I scoff. “What management skills?”
“The skills required to raise a kid on your own, manage your home, work a full-time job, run a blog.”
“Psh,” I reply.
“Fine. Don’t listen to me. I’m just saying…you have what it takes, and taking that job might solve some of your problems if you no longer want to be a Dominatrix.”
I do still want that.
But I want that job too.
I’m staring out across the bar, my mind spinning with so many thoughts and questions. After a few minutes, I feel Ronan drape an arm around my shoulder. I find myself leaning into his comforting embrace.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he mumbles against my head. The words instantly settle over me like a calming rain. He always has this way of making me believe it, and he’s never been wrong before.
Rule #33: When you feel sexy, you are sexy.
Jade
“I feel stupid,” I mumble from the dressing room.
“You’re not stupid,” Eden replies with an exasperated sigh. “Let me see it.”
When I slide open the curtain, I try to hide my nerves as her eyes rake over my body.
I’m covered in black leather. There’s a tight black and red corset cinched around my waist and doing nothing for my nonexistent cleavage. Below that, I have on a pair of tight black leather pants that make my curveless hips feel underwhelming.
“See?” I say, dropping my arms in frustration.
She stands from the velvet couch and walks toward me. “Well…it’s hot and definitely not stupid.”
“But?” I reply.
“It’s not you.”
Our eyes meet, and I feel something flutter in my chest at the contact.
We’re currently out shopping, just the two of us, to find myMistresslook. She called me after our night at Clay’s, explaining thatfinding her lookwas something she did when she started out as a Domme. It was a big part of her feeling sexy and empowered in the dominant role.
“Well, not everyone needs to wear leather to feel sexy,” she replies. “Want to keep looking?”
“Yes, please.”
