“Pey, you don’t have to leave, you know?” My brother sounds so sad. Chance Moore has been there all my life, literally. My twin brother who always teases me that he was the one born with all the looks and I got the brains.

My rock.

As much as I want to stay, I need to do this. It’s been a long while since I’ve done something for myself. And with Michael, my ex-fiancé, locked up for what he did, I can finally move on.

My past is ugly. The pain I’ve lived with for so long has held me back, shoved me into the darkest of depressions. I can’t trust anyone. Only Chance. But no more. I’ll never allow my fear of living hold me back. My parents were always forceful in telling us what we had to do rather than nurturing us. But then again, my father had his dodgy dealings to worry about. With his connection to the mob here in New York, he thought he’d make it out alive, but the night he and Mom were killed ensured that Chance and I were orphans before we hit twenty-one.

“Listen to me,” Chance implores, and I drag my gaze to him. “He was wrong for you, we all know that, but he’s paying for what he did, and he’ll never hurt you.” He tells me something I knew anyway. With a life sentence without the chance of parole, I know Michael can’t hurt me, but deep down, I feel like I need to finally spread my wings. “You, running away, that is not what Mom and Dad would’ve wanted.” The mention of my parents only solidifies my choice.

When Savannah called me up and told me to spend time with her in Chicago, I jumped at the chance. Her boyfriend, Mason, owns a club there; but I know she’s into the BDSM lifestyle, and something about hearing her stories makes me want to see what the fuss is about.

When I told her I wanted to try, she agreed to help me through my journey to find out what I want. When she told me there’s no strings at the club and I can walk away at any time, I booked my flight.

“You’ll make an awesome lawyer one day, arguing your cases, but I need to do this. I spent two years mourning our parents and what that asshole did to me. I can’t do it anymore, Chance.”

He sighs, his green eyes that match mine shimmer with emotion. “Fine. But if you find me some hot man, I’ll forgive you for leaving me.” He chuckles.

My brother has loved and lost. He knows how broken I feel. Learning the man that you love is a murderer does wonders for your self-confidence. I was blinded. So were my parents. But now, choosing someone to be with, let alone start a relationship with, is becoming a task I’d rather not embark on.

I was engaged to Michael since I was eighteen. For years, he doted on me, on my family, but when the truth finally came to light, I watched him get cuffed and lose his plea for freedom in court. Even now, nightmares haunt me of hearing those metal gates shutting him inside and me on the other.

“And don’t you worry your pretty little head about me, chicken. I’ll not be alone for too long,” he teases, shoving my suitcase closed with a loud whoosh.

“You need to stop falling for every pretty boy you see,” I tease, throwing a pillow at his face. He’s been lying on my bed, his hand holding up his head watching me pack.

“Then find me some hot, older guy, and I’ll kneel for him,” he tells me with a wicked grin on his face. He’s handsome, with blonde hair and green eyes, and a smile that can have any woman falling for him. I was convinced my brother was gay; then he told me he’s bi. He loves both sides of the coin. I love how free he is about his sexuality, while I’ve only dated Michael, and the worst of it is, I’m still a damn virgin.

Daddy wanted me to be with Michael because he had a good head on his shoulders. It was utter bull crap. He was only doing what he could to get into my family’s money.

“You know, I have no idea what I’m getting into,” I confess, flopping on the bed beside him. Staring up at the ceiling, I play scenarios in my head. All the while I’ve been with Michael, it was what Savvie calls vanilla. The word alone sounds boring. Michael and I would make out, he’d touch me, and then he’d let me make him hard with my mouth. Other than that, he never took the next step to make love to me.

“Pey, if there’s any advice I can give, it's that you need to start living. Feel rather than think. Perhaps you should just indulge while you’re there.”

I turn my head to face him. My twin brother. “So, you want me to turn into a slut?” I giggle, rolling my eyes.

“Hey, if that will get that stick out from up your ass, I’m all for it.” He goads me into another swift slap on his shoulder. “Hey!” We collapse in a fit of hysterics. I’ll miss this. Miss him.

“What if I get there and I hate it?” The fear of trying something new causes anxiety to twist itself in my stomach, twirling itself around me like a vine of thorns.

“What if you get there and meet a handsome, successful Dominant who’ll take you to new heights? And maybe even teach you a thing or two about having an actual orgasm?” Chance utters, and I know it’s a dig at Michael.

All the years I was with my ex-fiancé, the only time I actually felt something remotely close to an orgasm was when I touched myself. Granted, my father wanted us together. He was thrown at me without so much as an explanation other than he’ll be able to look after me. I didn’t realize what it meant until I found out what Daddy really did behind closed doors.

But I wasn’t what he was looking for. No, he needed the fortune my father had. Only, when my parents were gone, and he realized there wasn’t a family inheritance, Michael turned sour. For days after the funeral, I wondered what happened to him, but then I overheard his conversation, and the truth struck me like a slap in the face.

Michael inadvertently killed my parents. All he ever wanted was the money, but there was nothing left. My dad owned his own company, and we lived in luxury all those years, but it wasn’t because of profits. It was because of loans from dangerous men, and when Mom and Dad were gone, they came to collect. All Chance's and my so-called inheritance went to pay off debt. It was either that, or we work for them. There wasn’t a chance that was happening.

My job as the PA to an event planner has just gone belly up, but thankfully I managed to put away enough money for a rainy day or ten. Chance has been lucky. He landed a job at an established law firm helping with research and earns enough to get by without me.

When I told him I wanted to go to Chicago to see Savvie, the following day, my brother gave me the keys for an apartment he told me is paid up for two months. Enough time for me to find a job when I get there and pay my own way.

“You’ll find love, Pey. You know that, right?” He looks so serious, a genuine expression on his face.

“Don’t start that, Chance,” I tell him, pushing off the bed and pulling on my sweater. It’s almost time to get to the airport, and since I’m flying from JFK, I need to leave soon to ensure I don’t miss my flight.

“I’ll come visit as soon as that goddamn man gives me time off,” he grumbles. His boss works him too hard. Even him being here for an hour to say goodbye to me was a mission to achieve.

“I love you,” I tell him, knowing he has to get back to work. His messy blonde hair is sticking up in all directions from being flopped on my bed.

“Look after yourself, Toots,” he tells me with grin. When my brother pulls me into a hug, I can’t stop the tears from burning my eyes. I don’t want to cry. I know this isn’t goodbye, but it feels so much like I’m leaving him, and that hurts. It’s just been the two of us for so long that I don’t remember a time I wasn’t by his side, or vice versa.

“You too, little bro.” I smile as he pulls away. His face is stoic as he steels his expression. Always the strong one.

“I love you, Pey. And don’t let some asshole shove you around. If someone hurts you, I’ll be on the next flight out. You hear me?” he tells me in that commanding yet loving tone. Even though I’m older by a few minutes, he’s always been the more mature one. The rock.

“Don’t make me cry. I’ll call you when I get there.”

He nods and leaves me to finish up.

Once I have everything packed, I lock up and head out to the cab waiting on the sidewalk. I don’t have much, but the suitcase I do have is filled with clothes, photos of Chance and me, and a lot of hopes and dreams.

* * *

“I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here, darling. If you need anything, you’re welcome to let us know.” The old lady who has shown me to my new home smiles up at me kindly.

I nod. “Thank you, this is lovely,” I tell her, and it’s true. She offers a grin before shutting the door behind her and leaving me in my new apartment. The immaculate space is comfortable enough for one person. Furnished with two simple yet comfortable sofas, an armchair, and a window seat, the colors are neutral, and I love that it’s not overdone.

Living without luxury for so long has allowed me to get used to the normal middle-class life. There are no longer boutique stores I frequent, and Michelin-star restaurants are not the order of the day. But somehow, even without all the money we used to have, I find I’m happier. More at ease. I have nothing to prove to anyone.

I head straight for the bedroom, finding a lovely king-sized bed flush against the wall opposite the entrance. To my left is a small vanity, and just beyond that is a window which has a small bench seat. To the right, I notice a closet. It’s small, but it’s a walk-in with shelves and hanging space enough for me.

I’m tired, and I know Savvie wanted to meet up. Perhaps I can put it off until tomorrow. She’s been begging me to visit Sins, and even though I’m intrigued, I’m also nervous. Being with one man all my life has left me inexperienced. She mentioned a while ago she wanted to set me up with Mason’s partner, Carrick, but something happened since we spoke last that’s changed her mind. Of course, this has left me curious. And you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat.

I’m about to see if I can find some food when my phone rings.

“Hey girl,” I answer with a smile.

“Pey, I’m so excited to see you. Are you coming by later, or did you want to spend a night relaxing before coming down to Sins?” She sounds so hopeful, I want to say yes, but I think I need time to settle in.

“Yeah, I think I need some time to get my bearings. I’ll be there tomorrow, Sav. I’m nervous,” I confess to her on a sigh. I feel like a damn virgin. Scratch that, I am a virgin, unlike my best friend.

“Try not to be. You’ll be fine. You won’t be alone. Think about it, Pey. Many others have been where you are. I have as well. I’ll introduce you to a few lovely Dominants. Get your toes dipped in the pool, so to speak. Also, you don’t have to have sex. I know . . . I mean, being as innocent as you are, I want your first time to be special, and who knows? If you like someone, maybe you’ll let go, and if not, then it’s fine as well,” she whispers conspiratorially.

“I know. I feel so out of my depth. What Dominant is going to want a virgin?” I huff. “I mean, I’m twenty-two. I’m old,” I pout.

“You’ll be very fucking surprised, darling. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Just let things happen. Everything will fall into place, and if you’re not enjoying yourself, you can say no.”

Sighing, I settle on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I know she’s right. There’s nothing more I want than to experience sex, passion, that hunger I see between Savvie and Mason.

“I’m seriously only considering this since you’ve suggested it,” I tell her, and I can’t help grinning at her excited giggle.

“Sure you are,” her response comes, and I know she’s probably more excited than I am. “Listen to your heart. If you feel you want to do a scene, then I’ll set it up. If not, we can get drunk, and you can ogle all the men who walk in here every night.” She makes it sound so easy. “I know it’s difficult, but if you never try, you’ll never know. What if you find out you love it? Listen to me, Peyton, this is not for everyone, I know that, but deep down, all I want is for you to be happy. You could have a scene with one of the experienced Doms. I’ll tell him you’re new, and you’re just wanting to try it out. And I’ll be close by if you need anything.”

“I know. Thank you for doing this, darling. I’ve been stuck in that goddamn rut for so long, when Michael finally got put away, when my sadness took over, I just gave up for too long. I was angry, and now all I need is to not think so much. Chance has been a sweetheart putting up with me, but it’s time for me to sort my life out.”

Savannah sighs. “You just need to move the fuck on from that asshole. He used you all those years. He made you believe in a lie. Not all men are like that, babe. And don’t even get me started on his fucking job,” she bites out angrily. “You deserve someone who’s going to care for you. Who can be there for you no matter what happens in your life.”

“You’re right.” I flop back onto the bed.

“I’m always right, Pey,” she responds sassily.

“Does Mason agree with that statement?” I tease, giggling when she grunts into the phone.

I’ve spent time around them, and I must be honest. I’m jealous over how much he dotes on her. She’s his everything. I want that. I would give anything to have a man look at me the way Mason looks at Savvie.

“He’ll agree to anything at this stage. I’ve told him I’ve gotten us tickets to the Rome Bondage Fair. He’s been wanting to go for years. Carrick has agreed that he’ll be here to look after the club while we’re gone.”

At the mention of Carrick, I recall Savvie’s spoken about Mason’s partner in the club a few times, even mentioned she’d set me up with him, but apparently, he’s an asshole who plays the field. I’ve only ever seen photos of him, and I must be honest. He’s definitely sexy. He has a suave aura about him. Dresses in immaculate suits. Brown hair that glints with hints of gold, which sits messily atop his head. He's got sharp features, with a prominent jaw and full lips that make me want to feel them against mine in a hungry kiss. And those goddamn eyes. Gold with flecks of green and brown.

“Are you listening to me, Pey?” My best friend’s voice comes from the other end of the line, dragging me from thoughts of Carrick Anderson.

“Yeah, sorry. Uhm . . . No, what did you say?”

“You get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll be here at six, so don’t be late,” she informs me sternly. She’s always been like an older sister to me. Between her and Chance, I don’t know how I would’ve made it through the heartbreak of Michael.

“Thanks again, love,” I tell her.

Once I hang up, I head to the bathroom. I need a shower and sleep. And tomorrow will be the first day of my new life. Maybe I can talk Mason and Carrick into giving me a job. Who knows?