Chapter 1 #2
“So, basically you want this dress to be a warning label.” Andrea’s eyes glinted playfully. “Maybe you should sew some spikes on it so men know to approach at their own risk, and only the brave will persevere.”
I laughed, because she wasn’t wrong.
I knew I had a tough attitude. It wasn’t a flighty quirk. For me, it was armor. Carefully built and honed from the life I’d lived, watching my mother open the door to man after man who never stayed. Not one of them thought she was worth sticking around for.
So I learned young not to expect anything from anyone.
I taught myself how to survive, how to depend on no one but myself.
No expectations meant no disappointment when people—friends, boyfriends, even my own damn father—drifted in for a season and disappeared or moved on like I never mattered.
I could still remember, as a kid, how much that indifference had hurt.
Most people never made it past my walls.
Hell, barely anyone tried. My younger brother Christopher—same mother, different father—had been the exception, the one person I’d trusted without question.
Until Andrea and Madison came into my life after discovering we were related through DNA on one of those ancestry sites.
Even then, it had taken me time to really let them in.
I’d waited for the novelty of having a half-sister wear off, but instead Andrea had relocated from San Diego to Las Vegas to get to know me better.
After living together for almost two years as roommates, we’d decided to invest in a townhome together, and it had honestly been that commitment that finally allowed me to believe she wasn’t going to leave like everyone else in my life.
But most men? They took one look at my confident strut and got a taste of my sharp tongue and assumed I was the one who liked to be in control. And sure, I could be assertive. I could hold my own in most situations. But that didn’t make me a Domme. That wasn’t what I wanted.
What I craved—quietly, stubbornly—was a man who could meet me where I stood and not flinch.
Someone who saw the challenge and liked it.
A man who wasn’t scared of my snarky comebacks, wasn’t offended by my prickly disposition, or turned off by my independence.
One who didn’t feel the need to tame me or tear me down just to feel stronger and better about himself.
I didn’t want to be conquered. I didn’t want to be softened or turned into someone’s idea of demure. That would never be me.
But a man who could handle me, attitude and all and wasn’t threatened by my assertive temperament? One who didn’t just play with the fire but stepped into the flames like he belonged there? Yeah, that was next to impossible to find.
“I think you look great,” Andrea assured me, bringing me back to the present moment.
“Sexy enough to get a man’s attention, but intimidating enough that only the most fearless and confident will dare to express their interest. And from there, it’s up to you who you choose to play with for the night. ”
“Perfect,” I said with a succinct nod. “Then I’ll take it.”
“I’m so excited for you,” Andrea gushed as I purchased the dress.
She’d been gushing a lot lately, and I couldn’t blame her. Honestly, it was a relief to see her so happy after all she’d gone through the last few months. Her coworker stalked her and tried to hurt her, and it was Chase who kept her safe—although it was a close call.
Seeing her beaming without a care in the world, happy and in love and planning her wedding after all that stress made me feel like I could relax.
At least I had one sibling I no longer had to worry about.
Which left me with Christopher who was always looking for acceptance in all the wrong places.
He finally had a good, steady job, but considering our age difference and his past choices, I couldn’t help but be concerned about him.
“I’m excited for me, too,” I said to Andrea about my upcoming evening, then gave her a little smirk. “Though I have to admit I’m less excited about possibly seeing you and Chase doing anything remotely sexual together at the club.”
Andrea rolled her eyes. “We’ll get a private room. Chase isn’t into exhibitionism and he doesn’t like to share.”
She said it with such a thrill in her voice.
I knew Chase, and despite his possessive streak the man was smart enough to know if he tried being all caveman in their day to day lives Andrea would’ve told him where he could stick it.
But when they played as dom and sub, he could be as possessive as he wanted. Andrea loved it.
Personally, I wasn’t so sure. It was one thing to have a man dominate me, but the idea of belonging to one person…yeah, that took the kind of ultimate trust I didn’t have it in me to give.
We headed out of the store, the contrast between the chilly air conditioning and the hot Las Vegas air a jarring and noticeable difference. “Lunch?”
“Absolutely.” Andrea looped her arm through mine with a smile. “Who knows? You might get lucky like I did and find the love of your life at the club tonight.”
I snorted a laugh. “Just because you made out like a Cinderella fairytale and found your husband at a sex club of all places does not mean that lightning is going to strike twice.”
“Certainly not with that attitude,” she chastised me lightly. “Any man would be lucky to have you, Vi.”
She meant it. I knew she did. But she was viewing the world through engagement ring sparkle and a happily-ever-after glow, so I gave her a pass because the truth was, I was not the easiest person to love.
“Right now I’ll settle for a man capable of giving me a few orgasms and a night to remember.”
She laughed and I let her believe that was all I wanted because it was easier than telling her that I didn’t believe in forever. That I didn’t trust that any man would stick around. That deep down, I didn’t think I was built for the kind of love Andrea had—warm, safe, and lasting.
I didn’t need Mr. Right. I needed to feel in control. I needed to protect myself, because the guy didn’t matter. I mattered, and I wasn’t going to fall for someone just to be left behind when they figured out I was too much to handle—too intense, too guarded, too complicated.
Not all of us were as lucky as Andrea and walked away with a fairytale ending. Least of all me.
* * *
The look on Chase’s face when he saw me that evening in the slinky emerald-green dress was hysterical. He grimaced, looking like he was in physical pain.
“Like what you see?” I teased, turning in a little circle so that the hem flared out around my thighs and the fabric rubbing across my nipples made them extend into tight points.
Chase scowled at me, a normal occurrence when it came to our interactions. “Please put on a sweater.”
I laughed and slid into the backseat of his vehicle. I was carpooling with Chase and Andrea, although we’d go our separate ways once we were in the club.
Andrea and I chatted on the drive there, and we arrived a short while later. Chase typed in a personal membership code at the gated entrance before the heavy metal panels opened and he continued up to the enormous three story mansion that spread out over the expansive property.
It was early evening, and I stared, wide-eyed, at the massive Mediterranean style structure that came into view.
The club itself was…well, it was one thing to know about it, hear about it, and another thing to actually see it in person.
The outside was well landscaped and tastefully maintained, which was more than I could say about some of the McMansion monstrosities I’d worked at as a dealer for private poker games.
After Chase handed off the car to a valet, we headed inside, where I presented my invitation to a man who checked us in and gave me a rundown of the club’s rules that I’d already read through online, along with me confirming my health screening, hard and soft limits, and other pertinent information since it was my first time there.
Once everything was approved and our personal items were secured in lockers, the three of us walked through a second door and into the heart of the club. It was like a hidden world of sin and debauchery all wrapped up in an elegant and tasteful décor of black and gold.
Based on the interior design, I realized the house had to have been gutted at one point, with only load-bearing walls left, then reconstructed to accommodate a more intimate atmosphere.
The main entry was a rounded foyer with a circular bar, and behind that were two sweeping staircases that seemed to lead to two separate areas of the house—the upper floors, where there were various private and specialized rooms, from what Andrea had told me.
A medical room, a school room, a medieval torture room, just to name a few.
I was, admittedly, a little overwhelmed—and impressed—by it all.
Andrea put her hand on my arm, drawing my attention back to her. “Are you going to be okay on your own?” she asked me. “I can stay with you while you get more acclimated, if you want.”
Seeing that Chase was already itching to get Andrea alone, I smiled at her. “Sweet of you to ask, but I’ve got this,” I assured her. “Go have your fun.”
That’s all Chase needed to hear from me. He clasped Andrea’s hand in his and practically dragged her up the stairs, where I was sure I wouldn’t see them for quite a few hours.
Now on my own, I took my time exploring the ground floor.
I could feel people looking my way, and a few of those male glances lingered, but none piqued my interest. I wanted a man bold and daring enough to claim my attention, not one who sat passively waiting for me to give him permission to approach me.