Pamela handed her identification to the security guard at the parking lot entrance to the Vault. She was buzzing, every inch of her alive with possibility.

The last two weeks had been spent reliving what had happened the last time the secret part of the club was in session. The awakening. The pleasure. The pure ease with which she’d come undone under a skillful hand.

“Have a good night.” The guard returned her ID and indicated for her to go ahead with a jerk of his chin.

“Thank you.” She hitched her handbag higher on her shoulder and approached the darkened stairwell. The sound of moans and grunts became louder the farther she descended, until she was at the bottom step, peeking inside the Vault.

For once, she smiled as she strode by the bar, no longer frustrated at the ease with which women were getting their rocks off. She did the customary disrobe in the locker room, packed away her handbag, and then returned to the main area.

The room held the usual patronage, apart from a few unfamiliar faces who didn’t pique her interest. Couples mingled with drinks in their hands, others fucked in quiet corners or blatant positions on sofas.

Nobody paid her much attention. No more or less than usual.

“Pamela,” Shay called from behind the bar. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.” She approached the grinning woman and slid onto a vacant stool. “I thought I’d give this another try after the success from the last session.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Can I get you a drink to celebrate?”

“Sure. Tequila sunrise, please.”

Shay made the concoction while Pamela swiveled on her seat, scoping the crowd. There was nothing new or different about the scene before her. One couple used the sex swing. Singles crowded the open doorways to the adjoining rooms. Some regrouped around the bar.

The only thing missing was her resentment.

“He’s not here yet.”

She turned to Shay and grasped the drink now placed in front of her. “Who? Brute?”

“Isn’t that who you came back for?”

“No.” It was the truth. “I have no misconceptions about being with him again.” She didn’t want to fuel his ego, no matter how skillful those hands were. “Not that I was technically with him in the first place. All it took was a thumb, a fingertip, and some smoothly drawled words.”

What made her sashay her butt back to the Vault was the hope that Bryan had opened the floodgates when he’d broken the drought. Hopefully, whoever she decided to play with next would be just as successful.

“That sounds about right.” Shay chuckled. “I swear he was born with a gift. He always leaves women begging for more.”

“I wish I didn’t agree.” Unfortunately, she did. He was truly skilled in the art of pleasure. And undeniably undeserving of his talent.

“Then why not try for another round? If you technically weren’t together last time, it wouldn’t go against his hook-up rules.”

“Rules? Really?” Incredulity dripped from her lips. The contrast from his technique to his temperament continued to shock and amaze her. “No, thanks. God knows I wouldn’t want to step on his toes.”

“He’s not that bad. Honestly. I wouldn’t have encouraged him to help you out if he was. He knows what he wants the same way you do. The difference is, he never wavers.”

“Tell me about it.” Pamela took a gulp of her drink. “I wavered like a palm tree in a cyclone. There isn’t a guy here who I didn’t at least flirt with, all in the name of trying to get a fix.”

Shay placed her hands on the bar and gave a sad smile. “Then, honey, can you really blame him for setting firm boundaries? At least women know what to expect from him.”

True. Maybe she shouldn’t blame Bryan for owning his shit. Self-empowerment and all that pompom shaking stuff. “I guess. Doesn’t stop his personality rubbing me the wrong way.”

“Who gives a shit which way his personality rubs you as long as those orgasms keep coming? Believe me, if Leo would let me bag and gag every guy who walked in here so there was no annoying small talk—”

A guy sitting two stools down cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

“Oh, come on, Jeff. Don’t tell me you’re not sporting wood at the thought of being bagged and gagged.”

The guy grinned. “Get me a bourbon and dry, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear a word.”

Shay chuckled as she grabbed the requested liquor bottle. “See? Bag and gag is definitely the answer. But it’s not going to happen. This is a sex club, not a bonding retreat, and you pay good money to get in those doors. Make the most of it. Hit him up for a full round. What’s the worst he could do?”

Maybe Shay was right. Pamela’s decision should revolve around Bryan’s skills, not his attitude. “I’ll think about it.”

“Well, think quick.” Shay focused over Pamela’s shoulder. “Because the man of the moment has arrived.”

The pound of her irregular heartbeat echoed in her ears, the reaction bringing an unhealthy dose of confusion.

She swiveled on her stool and captured the man in her sights. His suit covered him like armor, strong and sure. His shirt was white and crisp, with a gleaming black tie hanging loose around his neck. He must be working, not playing. Otherwise, he’d be in boxers or briefs, as the Vault rules stated.

She grasped her glass, keeping her hands busy while her mind worked overtime. Asshole or not, he’d been blessed with physical appeal. The type that hadn’t lessened since learning more about his personality.

His expression wasn’t welcoming in the slightest. His eyes were harsh, his face covered in a light, bristly beard that always seemed impeccably trimmed. He had strong shoulders, a solid frame, and a powerful stride.

An emotionless vortex from head to toe.

A shuddering thrill worked through her without permission. She didn’t want to be attracted to him. Hell, she’d drink herself under the table in the hopes her sober goggles were adversely affected with a few shots, but the alcohol wouldn’t help.

She was intrigued by him.

Attracted, intrigued, and maybe a little curious, too.

“I might go and ask what his plans are.” She spoke aloud, hoping it formed some sort of commitment with the universe to stop her from backing out.

He continued toward one of the side rooms, his focus hitting her with a scowl.

She paused, caught halfway off her seat.

She waited for a sign. A spark. An acknowledgment of the monumental zing they’d shared last time she was here.

Nothing.

He glanced away without so much as a twitch to his lips.

“Umm.” She turned back to the bar. “That didn’t seem friendly.”

“That’s Brute. One hundred percent asshole, one hundred percent of the time. Doesn’t stop him from fucking like a Trojan.”

Damn it. Body parts reacted without warning—breasts, tummy, and lower. Deeper. When had she become a sucker for punishment?

She chanced another glance over her shoulder and focused on the darkness of the room he’d disappeared into. She didn’t want to give this brutal man any power over her, but the truth was, he already had it. He could give her things no other man seemed capable of.

“I assure you, he does know how to have fun. He’s just extremely picky about who he lets past his defenses.”

A loner.

Like her husband.

The familiarity softened her interest a little. Not enough. The past seemed to repeat itself, and like with her husband, she found herself unable to walk away.

“Are you going to chicken out?” Shay’s voice was light, a bare whisper of subconscious thought through Pamela’s frazzled mind.

“No. It’s all good. I’ll go see what he’s up to. There’s no harm in asking, right?” She sucked hard on her straw, finishing her drink. “Wish me luck.”

“Go get ’em.”

Pamela gave a chuckle in farewell and slid from her stool, righting her favorite deep-pink corset as she padded in his direction. This situation would be different if he weren’t the only man standing after years of unreachable orgasms.

He was a unicorn. That was all.

A vicious, snarling anomaly.

And if she wanted to be brutally honest with herself, she wasn’t entirely enthusiastic about propositioning previous play partners. The possibility of repeating the mistakes of her past made her skin crawl.

She stopped in the doorway, taking in the shadowed sight of him as he leaned against the wall, staring at the threesome kissing and caressing on the circular bed in the middle of the room. The appeal of Zoe and her men had always drawn Pamela’s attention. Not tonight, though. Right now, she couldn’t stop staring at the man who owned her pleasure. The man who made her pussy clench with remembrance.

Damn him.

She came to his side, ignoring the deep, woodsy scent of his aftershave wrapping its potion around her. “Hey.”

Ten children could have been conceived in the time it took his gaze to finally meet hers. There were no words. No familiarity or friendship. Only obligation bleached of warmth as he jutted his chin. Not only a cold shoulder, but a cold stare.

Problem was, she was here now, by his side, and she didn’t want to walk away with her tail between her legs. Especially not when Shay’s words repeated in her head, mantra-style—doesn’t stop him from fucking like a Trojan.

“Are you working?” She fought to remain detached. “You’re still wearing your suit.”

“Just finished.”

His tone carried a hint of “fuck off.” A hint she should take. She should grasp the warning and stride from the room. From the club. From his life. Instead, she let her focus wander along the strong lines of his chest, down to the thick thighs she could still remember pressed against her.

Curse him for being a tease to her starved ovaries.

Those hands had inspired daydreams capable of lasting months. Those legs had helped stabilize her during the most tumultuous orgasm.

He pushed from the wall and walked by her without so much as a farewell.

“Hey.” She frowned at his retreating back. “Hold up.”

He stopped, his shoulders broad and menacing.

“Are you interested in playing tonight?”

This time the beat of silence rang in her ears like an exploding bombshell. The world collectively held its breath.

Slowly, he turned to face her, the furrow between his brows sharp enough to cut stone. “Have I done anything in the last five minutes to give you the impression I’m interested?”

“Uh…” Her throat dried, cutting off her words.

“The answer you’re looking for is no,” he muttered under his breath. “I didn’t say hello. I didn’t even smile. Then I fucking walked away. What more do I have to do?”

Shock addled her brain, making coherence impossible. She didn’t know whether to apologize or lash out. Whimper or snarl. She’d been in this situation before. Many times. But always in reverse. She’d never been accused of not taking a hint. She was always the accuser. Difference was, she wasn’t such an ass about it. “A simple ‘no’ would’ve sufficed.”

“Then, ‘no.’” He raised his voice and his arms at the same time, drawing attention. “I’m not interested.”

She blinked on rapid repeat, trying to remain strong while humiliation burned her cheeks. “You’re a rude son-of-a-bitch.”

She walked past him, unwilling to let him get his belittling fix.

“Hold up.” The command reverberated off the walls, stopping orgasms, pausing foreplay. Her cheeks heated as more than one inquisitive stare turned toward them. “I’m a son-of-a-bitch?”

Panic clogged her throat. She was confident. Empowered. But up against a man like Brute, her self-worth flickered, threatening to snuff completely.

“That’s enough,” Zoe’s voice carried from the bed. “Whatever this is, it doesn’t need to be shared in front of a crowd. Brute, you should know better.”

No, Pamela should’ve known better. She should’ve listened to her gut and left well-enough alone. Before resentment settled in. Before she’d turned to Shay for help. And definitely before this thug had entered the picture.

“I’m not the only one who should know better.” Bryan strode by her. “Ignorance to the club rules is becoming an epidemic down here.”

He entered the main area with his smooth gait still intact. Each step he took promoted his control, his self-worth, while her resilience to stand tall teetered on a precarious edge.

This could’ve been worse. At least he’d confined her humiliation to a small room and a minimal number of witnesses. He could have—

“I shouldn’t need to remind everyone in attendance that no means fucking no.” He demanded the attention of the entire club with a raised voice. “You take rejection without pause or you get the fuck out of my club. Are we clear?”

Her lips parted, her mortification spilling out with a ragged breath.

There were no words to describe the carnage of his attack. He was deliberately ostracizing her. For what? Because she’d asked him to play?

“You all received my email earlier in the week,” he continued. “And I’m fucking pissed that a lot of you took it upon yourself to use my cell number as your personal booty call.”

She glanced around, expecting condemnation and judgment. What she found was the same discomfort staring back at him from numerous women. Some looked abashed, others appeared confronted, while men ping-ponged their attention around the Vault trying to determine who’d triggered the earthquake.

Bryan glared, taking the time to pinpoint every female in sight. “That shit has to stop. We have strict rules in place for a reason, and I’ll be damned if I’m made to feel pestered in my own club. Respect boundaries and take non-verbal cues or expect to have your membership canceled.” He sucked in a breath and let it out with force. “And if I find out anyone has a cell phone in here instead of keeping it secure in the locker room, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

The silence thickened.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Leo called from the bar, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Who wants a drink?”

As quickly as the wildfire had spread, the flames were doused under the offer of alcohol. Couples returned to their canoodling, voyeurs assumed their positions, and exhibitionists sank back into bliss.

The world began to revolve again, circling around her while her feet remained in place.

“I wouldn’t take it to heart.” Zoe came to stand beside her, the gorgeous woman’s brows pinched. “From the whispers I’ve heard tonight, the outburst was inevitable.”

“I…um.” Lost for words? Really? The effect of this man had no bounds. She still had no clue what had just happened.

“I’m sure it wasn’t supposed to be directed at you.” Zoe narrowed her gaze. “Unless you’ve been calling and texting him to hook up.”

“No. God, no.” If it wasn’t for his magic touch, she wouldn’t have given him the time of day. “I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“You’d be surprised how many women are. I’ve heard whispers that there’s a bet over who can sleep with him next. The members involved aren’t shy about it. They’re all trying to be the lucky lady who takes him off the market.”

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s all theirs.” The rhythmic sounds of sex and fulfillment built as if they had never stopped. “I just wish I didn’t feel like such an idiot.” She had pestered him and hadn’t taken his not-so-subtle cues. “I should’ve paid more attention to his demeanor.”

“Brute’s demeanor?” Zoe laughed. “If we all did that, nobody would ever talk to him.”

“I guess.” She nodded, trying to appreciate the camaraderie even though acid ate through her stomach. “I better get going.”

“You can’t go now.” Zoe turned to the men on the bed and raised a splayed hand, asking for five minutes. “If you leave, his shitty attitude wins. Let’s get a drink first.”

She wasn’t interested in claiming any sort of victory. Besides, she couldn’t fight someone who was striding from the room. “No, I’ve reached my limit.” Of bullshit and alcohol. “Don’t leave your guys waiting.”

“Honey, they’re not going anywhere.”

“Maybe not, but I am. I can’t stay here. Thanks for the offer, though.”

She didn’t say goodbye. Not to Zoe, Shay, or a single soul as she slinked her way through the main room, the newbie lounge, and the entrance hall. She had to get out of there before her head exploded from the vacuum to her pride.