Brielle

 

Gone is the unsure, timid girl who first met Hale in the jazz club that night. It’s not lost on me that the first time we met, he brought me so close to his club, yet kept me so far away from his life all that time.

Radiating confidence all the way from my stiletto heels to the cups of my lacy bra, I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. I’ve chosen a black leather miniskirt and a silky blouse in the most beautiful color of soft peach. I feel pretty and calm.

“You look really nice tonight,” Kirby says, admiring me fondly.

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Absolutely.”

Hale has no idea I’m coming tonight. I can’t even begin to imagine what his reaction will be when he sees me. When I researched Crave online, I saw that tonight they are having a New Year’s Eve party. The club is rarely open to guests, so it seemed like a sign that I was meant to come here.

After the doorman checks our IDs and we pay a steep entry fee, Kirby and I enter a large room with chairs and sofas scattered around a fireplace, and a bar area for mingling. I’m not sure why, but I was expecting something more sinister. It’s more like a lounge with darkly sensual music, and lighting designed to make you feel hidden in shadows. There are two women playing out a scene in the wide-open play space at the room’s center.

For every exhibitionist, there’s a voyeur, I suppose. Something tells me that’s just the tip of the iceberg of what I might see tonight. Transfixed, I watch as the woman holding a burning red candle tilts it and lets a trail of wax drip onto her partner’s cleavage. I’m reminded of the scented candle and the beautiful fragrance that floated around Hale and me as he pushed me to my limits time and time again.

“Brie?” Kirby asks, drawing me back to the moment. “Everything okay?”

“Of course. It’s just a little overwhelming.”

He nods, his eyes widening as a stunning blond woman wearing only a blue G-string and knee-high boots struts past, her perky breasts bouncing as she passes us. She’s gorgeous and seems to know exactly where she’s headed, moving with purpose toward an unknown destination.

My stomach sinks as I realize for the first time that Hale may not be here alone. It’s a feeling that haunts me as Kirby takes my hand and leads me toward the bar.

Before we can place our order, I spot Chrissy, my client and Hale’s friend. She’s headed straight toward us.

“I never expected to see you here,” she says, greeting me warmly with a hug.

“We were up for an adventure tonight. This is my friend Kirby.”

As they shake hands, I hide my smile as Kirby struggles to keep his eyes from wandering south. Chrissy is dressed in gorgeous vintage lingerie—a black lace teddy, stockings, garters, and black satin gloves.

“How are you enjoying your new home?” I ask.

“I love it. I made my first Christmas dinner there and had half of the club over.”

I wonder if Hale spent Christmas there, and if he did, would that make me jealous. I decide it doesn’t matter. Besides, somehow I picture him spending the holiday with his nana. Probably unwrapping boxes of scarves and sweaters knit just for him.

“What do you think of the club?” she asks.

“It’s…good. So far, I mean, we haven’t seen much yet.”

My gaze wanders back over to the public display of feminine dominance and submission, which has advanced to the Domme applying a nipple clamp to one breast while she licks at the other with her tongue. My heart quickens as I watch.

I turn back toward Chrissy, eager to find out if he’s here or not. I don’t want this bold experiment to be all for nothing. “Is Hale here?”

She nods, but her expression gives nothing away. “He’s with Reece. In the lounge.” She points toward an arched doorway that leads into another dimly lit room.

I don’t care what the lounge is; I only want to know who the hell Reece is and what the fuck she’s doing with my man. I pull in a deep lungful of air and straighten my shoulders.

“Kirby, would you like a personalized tour?” Chrissy asks.

He turns to me. “Will you be okay, ladybug?”

I nod. “Yes, go. Have fun.”

They stride off toward the other end of the room, and all my thoughts of ordering a drink are gone. Now the only thing that matters is getting into the lounge to see with my own eyes what he’s up to.

The stilettos on my feet carry me closer and closer, the clicking sound they make matching the hard and fast pounding of my heart. I stop in the entryway, my eyes fighting to adjust. The room is even dimmer than the main area I’ve come from. The low, sensual music thumps softly in the background. There are a few couples and small groups sitting together, quietly talking and sipping drinks, but Hale’s not one of them.

Then I notice two men seated in the far corner of the room, their heads tipped down as if they’re discussing something serious. Instinctively, even though I can’t make out either of their features, I know the man on the left is Hale. My sweet, lost man. Only when I’m standing directly before them do I realize that it’s rude of me to interrupt them like this.

“Brielle…” Hale stands suddenly, his eyes flashing with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

I knew seeing me at his BDSM club would come as a shock. I only hope it’s a pleasant surprise and not an unwelcome one.

“Kirby brought me.”

His expression sours. “I see.” I open my mouth to explain that it’s not at all like that when Hale gestures to the man beside him. “This is Reece. He owns the club.”

Reece rises to his feet, and dear God, this man is huge. At least six and a half feet tall with shoulders so broad he could easily pass for an NFL player. As he towers over me, his dark, imposing good looks render me momentarily speechless. “You’re stunning, angel. Are you here to play?”

“Back the fuck off, Reece,” Hale growls.

I can’t help the rush of pink staining my cheeks. Even if I’m not interested in Reece, his attention is flattering.

“Welcome to Crave,” Reece says, lifting my hand to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“I do too.” My eyes wander over to Hale’s, and a rush of heat tingles low in my belly.

“Fuck.” Reece presses his earpiece to his ear, obviously listening to bad news. “There’s a woman at the front door saying she knows me.”

Hale shrugs. “What’s the problem? A lot of women in this city know you.”

“Yeah, but she says we grew up together, and I have a bad feeling about who it might be.”

“Let’s roll, brother. Do you need me?” Hale asks him.

I get the unmistakable feeling that he wants as far away from me as possible. And who could blame him? I just told him that I’m here with another man. But all I need is a few seconds to explain…

“No,” Reece says, his eyes wandering to mine and his expression softening. “You stay here and entertain your friend.” Reece stalks off, but I hear him call dibs, to which Hale mutters a low curse under his breath. It’s so interesting seeing this side of him—in his club, with his male friend.

I merely stand here, taking it all in and trying to piece everything together.

Hale finally turns to face me again. “I don’t know what to say, Brielle. I don’t understand why you’re here.”

“I got the file you left for me.”

“And what…you just show up here? No phone call, no text, nothing for days.”

“I wanted to show you that I’m here. You, this lifestyle, it doesn’t scare me.”

He nods once, his expression stern. “And Kirby?”

“I told him everything. About me and you. About the feelings I had for him.”

He picks up a glass of whiskey from the table and downs the remainder of his drink.

“I told him I once wished for a future with him, but not anymore. I’ve grown. I’ve changed, and I want different things now.”

“What kind of things?”

I shrug, playing innocent. “Things that a Dom demands of his sub.”

“I’ve been drinking, Brielle,” he warns, his tone low.

“I don’t care.” I gesture to the chairs that he and Reece vacated. “Can we sit down for a minute and talk?”

He takes my hand and guides me to the plush leather armchair, sitting down across from me.

“Why did you show me all of that?” I ask.

“Because that’s me. That was everything. My past, the losses and pain I’ve experienced, it’s made me the man that I am, and I don’t share that with people, but I was worried that you’d fallen for the Gentleman Mentor. It’s happened before,” he adds with a faraway look in his eyes, and I know there’s a story there I’ll be digging into later.

“I needed you to see the real me,” he says, “warts and all, and decide if I was what you wanted. I want to keep you for myself, leave all that shit, the mentoring behind. I want you. But I wasn’t sure you even knew what you wanted. You’d held on to that fantasy of you and Kirby for so long that—” He shakes his head, looking down into his empty glass.

I place my hand on his knee. I’ve never seen Hale like this. He’s vulnerable and exposed in a way he’s never been before, and it scares me, but I like it.

“I didn’t fall for the Gentleman Mentor. I fell for you. I fell for the careful way you lifted my hair from my neck to kiss that sensitive spot below my ear. The feeling of your lips at my temple, the sweet and wicked things you whispered to give me the confidence I needed to soar. I fell for the sexy, disciplined control you maintain, the sweet way you are with your nana, all the real stuff that makes you you.”

His gaze softens and latches onto mine. “I wasn’t as good as I thought at hiding myself from you.”

I shrug. “Not even a little bit.” We’re silent for a few minutes, each happy to drink in the other’s presence. “You didn’t have to return the money,” I finally add.

“I didn’t feel right keeping it.” He leans closer. “Would you like a tour of the club?”

Eagerly, I nod. “Unless we’re going to run into any of your old girlfriends.”

“I haven’t dated in years, Brielle. I thought you knew that.”

“I guess there’s still a lot I’m fuzzy on.”

“Let me clear a few things up for you. Come with me.” He rises to his feet and offers me his hand.

As we exit the lounge via a back hallway, I snag a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, knowing I very well might need a dose of liquid courage.