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Dylan gulped the rest of her drink, burning her insides as it went down. “Let’s go find some women!”
The kinetic energy of bodies on the dance floor guided the trio toward the equilibrium point, which was where they crossed over from the dance club to The Sanctum, where only the sexiest of beasts roamed free.
Donned with tight leather pants and a sheer muscle shirt that flashed her ripe breasts allowed Cooper easy access. The security guard licked her lips when she took in Lucy’s fishnet body dress with a red laced bra underneath. Dylan swaggered behind them in her trademark ripped jeans and vest, which teased the guard with a view of her dark nipples as she stepped forward. This time, they passed through with no opposition. Behind the red velvet curtain awaited a night of depravity.
Dylan’s tongue danced over her dry lips, a seductive prayer for the return of that thrill she once possessed. Nothing happened. Parts of her body that should be wet and willing were a barren wasteland. Dry as a bone. An invisible layer of morality cloaked her in guilt as the haunting thought of judgment suffocated her. Ari.
As if Lucy could sense Dylan’s inner monologue, she placed a reassuring hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “The world is at your fingertips, my friend. Go fuck someone’s brains out while I take my bratty pet to the pound.”
That was the boost Dylan needed to push forward. Head held high, Dylan traipsed through the hallway leading to the stage, a dwarf of Adytum’s La Prizonye. Much like before, each of the playrooms along the corridor was full of Dommes commanding their beautiful submissives.
As she strolled farther, she was a lioness in search of prey, a spunky lass she could tame. A little morsel appeared out of nowhere, almost like the Red Sea parted just for her. No. She wasn’t Moses leading anyone to salvation; instead, she was a woman on a mission of healing.
With light brown hair draping around her shoulders, the woman’s hourglass shape started the cascading flow of blood to Dylan’s sex. If she had been at work, she’d have spun this woman around and taken her up against the wall. However, this was The Pendulum, where she needed permission to touch. Dylan tapped her on the shoulder, grabbing her attention.
It might have been the mood or the woman’s perfume, but for a split second, she told herself it was Ari. Reality crushed her hopeful dream when the woman spun around. Dylan grinned anyway. That was the entire reason they came to The Pendulum: to rid herself of those ridiculous dreams of a happily ever after.
“Hello, beautiful. How come you’re sitting here all alone?”
“I guess I was waiting for you.” The woman, who could have passed for Ari’s sister, lit up at the compliment.
Dylan had a way with women. Her charm, laced with confidence, had ladies eating out of her palm. Perhaps that was why she claimed Ari with little effort. It had always been easy for her to attract women. Natural, even. A whip to a woman’s ass was the hard part, except for Ari. Not once did an amateurish tremor surface when she commanded Ari’s submission.
Damn. She needed to stop thinking of that woman and focus on the one in front of her. Dylan extended her hand to the nameless woman. “Let’s go find somewhere to ... talk.”
“Is that what you call it? I’m hoping for a little more than conversation, stud.” The woman should have stayed silent.
Her words were like nails on a chalkboard. Dylan needed someone with more innocence, someone wide-eyed enough not to see through her facade as a Mistress. Determined to push through her insecurities, she steeled herself and led them to the nearest unoccupied love chamber. It was time to mend her heart, just like she had in the past. Dylan didn’t ask the woman’s name. Anonymous sex was best at this point.
The rooms in that place didn’t have doors, which catered to the voyeuristic tendencies of the people who visited it. Upon entering, the woman dropped to her knees and clasped her hands behind her back, demonstrating that she was not a BDSM novice.
Impressed but also terrified, Dylan passed on the false confidence to boost her ego enough to keep from flinching under pressure. “What’s your safe word, dollface?”
“Tulips.”
Simple. Neither of them would ever use it during a scene. Dylan wasted no time on sweet talk. “Shirt off. Crawl to me.”
It might have come off callous, but the woman followed the command. She maintained the lustful stare, never breaking eye contact. It did nothing for Dylan. An alluring woman with brilliant emerald eyes, beaming with an intense eroticism, crawled before her. It transported her back in time to when Ari was on her knees and begging for attention. A memory. A distant memory of what she craved. Dylan glanced down with a heavy heart, knowing that there was no substitute for the real thing.
“I’m sorry. I— I can’t do this.” She tore out of the room, clutching her constricting chest. One thing could ease her anxiety-ridden panting. Ari.
When she glanced behind her, the nameless woman stood at the door. Dylan left a desirable and willing woman, which only meant one thing. She was broken. Ari was her missing piece.
###
With flower stems gripped in her hand, Dylan made her way up the stairs to Ari’s third-floor apartment. If she wanted to win back Ari’s heart, flowers were the way to go, according to Lucy. Dylan trusted the advice given by her friend in a moment of desperation. Flowers and her big heart were Ari’s for the taking. No strings. The past was the past. They’d forget the mutual lies and deceit for a chance at a fairytale ending. In her heart of hearts, Dylan believed Ari was her person. Flowers weren’t as elaborate as a boom box in a rainstorm, but time was of the essence.
As she stepped onto the third-floor landing, her steps slowed when she saw Ari’s apartment door ajar. It wasn’t like someone to keep their door open in this neighborhood. Hesitation gave way to caution as she gave the open door a light tap. The hinges creaked as the door opened wider.
“Ari. It’s me, Dylan.”
No answer.
Concern grew within her as sounds of rustling emanated from the sliver of light that shone through the small opening. She nudged the door with a guarded hand, revealing a young woman rifling through a drawer like a tornado. Dylan stepped into the room unnoticed as the woman’s frantic search continued with the contents of the cabinets and drawers cluttering the floor.
“Excuse me. Who are you and where is Ari?” Dylan asked, not even lowering her voice.
The startled woman jumped into a spinning pirouette in the kitchen. “Who the fuck are you?”
