Chapter Fifty

Early in the afternoon, we arrive at Braden’s Manhattan penthouse.

“When can we go to the club?” I ask.

“Tonight. It doesn’t open until eight p.m.”

“It’s your club, though. Can’t we go now?”

He stares at me, his countenance slightly tense. “What are you looking for, Skye? Why is the club so important to you?”

“For the same reason it’s important to you,” I reply.

He nods. “I think that may be partially true, but you seem to be after something more than just sexual gratification.”

“Aren’t you?” I ask.

“I like to be in control,” he says. “You know that, and playing a scene at the club gives me the control that I like to a greater extent than in a regular bedroom. Though I could easily build my own playroom.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Because…the lifestyle is important to me, but it doesn’t define me.”

“I understand that.”

“Do you?”

I nod, swallowing. Do I?

“Because I think,” he goes on, “you found something at the club that helps you deal with other aspects of your life.”

“So what if I did? Is that bad?”

“No, Skye. Nothing about the lifestyle is bad. But I have no interest in living that way twenty-four seven.”

“Neither do I.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

“How could you think I wouldn’t be on the same page? Do you really think I want to spend my life as your submissive day in and day out?”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think you want that.”

“Then why are you—”

“You resisted my control in the bedroom. You still resist my control in other aspects of your life.”

“That’s true. So why would you think—”

He rubs his jawline. “I don’t think that. Trust me on that one. I don’t think it for an instant. As to whether it’s what you want, we’ll find out tonight.”

Shivers overtake me, surprising me.

His words are enigmatic. I don’t want to be his submissive. I know that as well as I know my own name.

What am I after, then?

Why is the club so intriguing?

Many potential answers to my own question exist.

And every single one of them frightens me.