Peyton Moore.

I ordered a background check on her, and it seems she’s hidden within the system of paperwork and bullshit. He didn’t find anything incriminating. The problem is, he didn’t find anything at all. I expected results, but for some reason, she’s clean. It doesn’t matter who it is in my life, I always make sure I know who I’m getting into bed with, so to speak. Especially when it’s something long term.

When I asked Savannah, she’s not been too forthcoming about her best friend either. I always get what I want. I’ve grown up with everything I need at my fingertips, and as much as Peyton has proved a challenge, I’m not scared off. I want more.

I don’t blame Savannah though. I told her that this is nothing more than an arrangement, but I’m lying to myself if I believe last night hasn’t done something to me. It’s fucked with my head, and I don’t know how to deal with it.

This woman who’s walked into my life and consumed my every thought is a mystery, and even though I shouldn’t make an exception, being who I am, I no longer care. All I want is her.

When my office door opens, I look up to find Mason staring at me. My partner and friend. He’s the only one, besides Oliver, who knows who I really am. When I first arrived, he took me in and made sure my life got back on track. When we opened Sins together, I knew there was no one else I could put my trust in.

“You’re going through with it?” he asks, stalking into the space, shutting the door behind him. Leaning back in my chair, I nod. He doesn’t need to know my motivation to take Peyton on. We may be best friends, but there are some things I like to keep to myself when it comes to my submissives. Even though he knows I fuck a lot of women, I can’t tell him the real reason Peyton has jarred me so much.

“I didn’t think I needed your permission.”

“You don’t,” he says, settling himself in the seat opposite my desk. There’s nothing left to say, but I know Mason, and this is not something he’s going to let go. I don’t blame him. I’m not a long-term Dominant. Never have been. After what happened with Aurora, I have never had an inkling to take on anyone in my life. Allowing myself a situation to even utter the words I own you does not present itself to me any longer. It’s easier to indulge in playtime, and then move on.

“But?” I ask, knowing he’s waiting to say something more. He drags his gaze over to the wall of toys, implements I use on the toys who enter my office asking for it.

“I don’t know, Carrick. You tell me.” He turns his gaze back to me. “This isn’t like you, and it intrigues me.” The corner of his mouth lifts an inch as he regards me with a smile. Curiosity clear on his features.

“Well it shouldn’t, Mason. There’s nothing to tell. She’s beautiful, she asked me to train her, and I agreed. You’re reading too much into this.” I hope he’ll drop it because I can’t give him more than that. Even though I know where he’s coming from. I know why he’s so confused, so intrigued. It’s been years since I’ve even looked at a blonde woman, let alone a submissive.

“I’ve known you far too long to believe your bullshit,” he counters easily. “And I know when you’re lying too, Rick. The last time you were this caught up in a woman was Eva. But, you see, what I don’t get” --he says, leaning his elbows on his knees-- “never, and I mean never, have I seen you with a blonde. Not a toy, not a sub that’s walked in here asking for you. So . . .” His words trail off into tense silence, leaving me guarded. He’s close. Too fucking close. “Who was she, Rick?” And there it is. The question I knew Mason would ask. I knew he’d figure it out.

“What makes you ask that?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Rick. I’m not stupid. I know there must be a reason behind what you do. There always is, and something tells me you’ve been burned. Tell me how? And why now suddenly do you take on a woman like Peyton. Who is she a ghost of?”

Pushing up from my chair, I stalk toward the bar and pour a double shot of Scotch. Downing it in one gulp, I turn to Mason. “This isn’t something I talk about, man. The past stays where I leave it. Behind me.”

“Tell me, Carrick. If you’re doing this to get some sort of closure, that’s fucked up. Peyton doesn’t need you to use her for your sick games.” He’s right. I nod.

“What if she was using me as much as I am her? Did you ever think of that? Yes, she may be innocent to this life, but Peyton Moore is hiding something, and I intend finding out exactly what it is.” He doesn’t respond, merely glares at me with those dark green eyes that seem black in this low light.

“You know, all these years I’ve known you, I never pegged you for a masochist.” He sighs, rising from the seat, stalking toward me. He grabs a tumbler and pours himself a drink. Clinking his glass on mine, he lifts it to his lips and downs it in one swallow.

“What makes you say that?” I question, turning toward the window overlooking the club. There, sitting in the corner booth, are Peyton and Savannah. They’re giggling like school girls, and I wonder if she’s told her friend I took her virginity last night.

“You’ve spent eight years avoiding the ghost you were running from, but now you’re walking straight into hell holding her hand,” he utters from beside me as he sees his girl with Peyton. “You know, Rick, there’s a time to let go of the past and move on to a new future. Perhaps I am wrong. Maybe this girl will drag you out of the self-destruct you’ve been on for so long.”

“Only one thing will ensure I let the past go, Mason. And that vengeance is coming soon. As for Peyton, she’s a toy I’m training. Nothing more.” My words are cold, devoid of emotion, because if I allow myself just an inkling of what she’s making me feel, I’ll break.

Mason doesn’t say any more. Instead, he pats me on the shoulder and leaves. I’m alone with my thoughts. With the fear that Peyton Moore is going to unravel me. And I can’t do a damn thing about it.

* * *

Stalking into the club, I find Mason and Savvie sitting at the bar. It’s still early, but there are a few people in the booths. As I reach them, my best friend’s green gaze lands on my gold one. He leans in, planting a kiss on Savannah’s forehead, but his stare is on me all the time.

“Mason,” I smirk, knocking once on the bar to get Dylan’s attention. He knows what I want. A gin and tonic. It’s the only drink I have when I’m down in the club. “Savvie, looking beautiful as ever.” She turns her attention to me. Her big sapphire eyes look up at me.

“Rick, I’ve missed you.” She rises, wrapping me in a hug I don’t expect. When I flit my gaze to Mason, he just shrugs.

“And this?” I question her, chuckling as she steps back and smiles.

“Look after my best friend, Anderson, or I’ll have your balls,” she warns me. She pierces me with a serious stare, and all I can do is nod.

“Of course, I will. I’m not a complete asshole, you know,” I whisper in her ear, loud enough to get a snort from Mason.

“Are you going to be around tonight?” Mason asks, his expression filled with worry. If I respond, he’ll know where I’ll be. But if I don’t, there’ll be more questions.

“I may stick around. If something comes up, then I won’t be.” The glass Dylan poured earlier is empty. He gestures for a refill, but I shake my head. “Later,” I say. I’m not a fan of drinking. I’ve seen too many submissives and Dominants fuck up by getting wasted and heading into the rooms.

I’ve spent one too many nights pulling them out of there and having to ban them for life. Even though there are contracts in place ensuring they can’t sue, I feel like shit for it because I’ve lost the client.

When I reach my office, I push open the door and stop dead in my tracks. On the floor, kneeling like the perfect submissive is Peyton. She’s dressed in a white corset that has pink ribbons threaded through creating a zigzag pattern. Her tits are covered, but they’re barely contained in the tight fabric.

Her head is bowed. Her lashes flutter, and I know she’s aware of me. As she should be. Her legs are spread beautifully, and the scrap of material covering her cunt is taunting from between her thighs. Both her hands are behind her back. I’ve seen women kneel for me many times. I’ve allowed them to present themselves to me, but never has a woman new to this life ever captured my attention like Peyton.

“You’re early,” I say, finding my voice in the shock still evident in my tone. She doesn’t respond. Instead, she stays silent, just like I expected her to. I haven’t directly asked her a question, so there’s no need for her to acknowledge me. Stepping into the office, I shut the door with a gentle click.

Her perfume, the scent of a rare orchid, invades my senses. She is a delicate flower amongst this darkness that will only tear her apart, petal by petal. All the men downstairs are not good enough for her. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, neither am I.

“Eyes up.” She obeys. Her big jade eyes meet mine. They shine with excitement and yearning. I shouldn’t be training her, but I can’t help myself. Her obedience is more than intoxicating. It’s addictive. “You look beautiful, Kitten,” I tell her with a smile.

A soft blush paints her cheeks, and she offers me an innocent grin. “Thank you, Sir.”

I’m not a sadist, but I want to mark her more than I have anyone else before. Even Aurora. I shouldn’t do it. Her training shouldn’t be met with harsh punishments, even after last night when I lost all fucking control. But deep in my gut, all I want to do is see her creamy skin that reminds me of porcelain marred with beautiful red welts.

I have a plan of what I’ll be offering her tonight. I thought about it earlier, and it’s got me hard already. Knowing she’ll experience all of this for the first time with me is heady. For some reason, I want all her firsts with me. When I left her last night and walked into my apartment still marked in her bloody innocence, I jerked off again and again, and even seeing her in my sanctuary right now, I know I can’t allow her to walk away from me. I don’t want to be rid of her.

I don’t say anything. Instead, I walk over to my desk, set down my phone and keys, and shrug off my jacket. She’s silent. Beautiful. Fucking perfect.

All my life, I was in love with one woman. My heart had molded itself to hers, and I believed I’d never feel that way about anyone again. Perhaps I won’t. Agreed, this is not a relationship, but my feelings for Peyton are completely different.