Chapter 2
Gage
The moment Skye walked away last night, I knew I was in trouble. Big trouble.
She's different. There's something about her, the way she carries herself, the way she watches, the way she holds her own even in a place like Club Red that has me more intrigued than I should be.
I've played with plenty of subs. I know the signs when someone is in it for the thrill versus someone who truly understands the lifestyle. Skye understands it. And that makes her dangerous, at least to me.
This morning, I woke up early, restless, my mind still replaying our conversation. Her voice, her eyes, the way she didn't hesitate when she told me she liked bondage.
Damn it.
I roll over and grab my phone, scrolling through our texts from last night. The last one I sent was to make sure she got home safely. She responded with a simple Yes, Sir.
That shouldn't get to me the way it does.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I type out a message.
Me: Good morning, beautiful. Sleep well?
I hesitate for just a moment before hitting send. This isn't my usual approach. Typically, I maintain more distance, more formality with potential submissives. But something about Skye makes me want to break my own rules.
When my phone buzzes almost immediately with her response, I'm surprised.
Skye: Good morning. Better than I expected, though you featured prominently in my dreams.
Heat curls through me at her words. I appreciate her boldness, the way she doesn't play coy games.
Me: I'm intrigued. Care to share the details?
Skye: Let's just say it involved rope and not much else.
I can almost see her smirk as she typed that, and it makes my pulse quicken. Before I can type out a response, my phone rings. It's Hunter. I reluctantly switch focus, knowing my friend wouldn't call this early unless it was important.
"Morning," I answer, keeping my voice neutral.
"Hey, are we still on for lunch?" Hunter asks without preamble. "There's some club business we need to discuss."
"Yeah, of course. Noon at Emilio's?"
"Perfect. And Gage? You sound... different. Everything okay?"
I suppress a chuckle. Hunter has always been too perceptive for his own good. "Everything's fine. I'll fill you in at lunch."
After hanging up, I send Skye one more message before diving into work.
Me: I look forward to making those dreams a reality. Have a good day, Skye. Don't forget to drink plenty of water.
Setting my phone down, I run a hand through my hair. I should get some work done, but my focus is shot. Instead, I head to the gym, pushing myself harder than usual, trying to work off this restless energy.
No matter how hard I push myself, her face is all I see. I can't seem to stop picturing her getting turned on by our text exchange. Just the thought gets me hard, and I push myself even harder.
Even after a grueling workout, my mind refuses to settle. After a quick shower, I dress in my usual attire for work days, tailored slacks, a crisp button-down, and a blazer. My colleagues tease me about always being overdressed, but appearances matter in my line of work. Perception is everything.
By lunchtime, I know I need a distraction, so my lunch with Hunter is perfectly timed.
We've built a solid friendship since we started working together at the club, and he's one of the few people I trust. While I get along with most of the guys at Club Red, Hunter is the one I've known the longest. He brought me in when the club opened.
Now that Carter is getting married, he's been taking on more with the club, so I'm glad he has time to meet me for lunch.
Emilio's is bustling when I arrive, the lunch crowd already filling most of the tables.
It may be a hole-in-the-wall diner, but it's still pretty popular since they have the best sandwiches in the whole damn city.
I get there early and grab a booth in the back so we can have some privacy.
When he arrives, I'm checking emails on my phone.
"You look like shit," he comments as he drops into the seat across from me.
One thing I like about him is that he is honest and doesn't always tell you what you want to hear. It's nice since I've found out the hard way that once people find out you have money, they become yes-men, not wanting to upset you and be pushed away from what they see as a free ride.
I smiled. "Didn't get much sleep."
"Come on, spill it. I haven't seen you this distracted in months."
The waitress comes over and takes our order before I turn back to Hunter.
"I met someone at the club."
Hunter's eyebrows shoot up. "Really? You haven't taken a new sub in what, a year? She must be special."
"We're just talking right now," I clarify, though 'special' isn't far off. "She's... different."
Hunter studies me for a long time. "Different good or different complicated?"
I consider this for a moment. "Both. She's intelligent. Self-assured. There's a depth to her that intrigues me."
"And she's hot," Hunter adds with a grin.
"And she's attractive," I concede, accepting my drink from the waitress with a nod of thanks.
Hunter leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So, when are you seeing her again?"
"Friday night."
"At the club?"
I nod, taking a sip of the sweet tea. "She's interested in bondage."
"Your specialty." Hunter's expression turns more serious. "Might want to be careful. That's how Carter got roped in."
If it weren't for the smile on his face, I might think he resented Carter for falling in love and stepping back from the club a bit. But Carter is his best friend, and I can tell he's happy for him.
"I've got time over the summer break. All you have to do is ask if you need me," I remind him. He has several of us who are willing to step up and help.
"I will take you up on that. We've got a situation with those photos that leaked from the Virgin Auction."
My mood darkens immediately. "I thought we handled that."
"We did, mostly. The coverage died down, but we're hearing rumors that someone's poking around, asking questions. Sawyer thinks it might be law enforcement."
I swear under my breath. The last thing Club Red needs is official scrutiny.
We run a clean operation, everything consensual and legal, but that doesn't mean we want cops or feds looking too closely at our membership.
Sawyer is an FBI agent and a club member.
He works with the founding members to help direct eyes away from the club and give us a warning of anything coming our way.
"What does Mase think?" I ask, referring to our organized crime connection, who is also a founding member. All in all, there are ten of us on the Board right now. Mase keeps his business separate from the club, but his security expertise has been invaluable.
"He's putting out feelers, seeing if he can identify who's asking questions. In the meantime, we're increasing security, especially for events. I'm pretty sure we are still being watched. If this thing with your sub turns into more than just a scene, you need to be smart about it."
I nod, already knowing that. All of us founding members have been taking extra precautions. Being so involved with the club, we have the most to lose.
We spend the next hour discussing contingency plans, potential vulnerabilities, and how to shore up the club's defenses without alarming the membership. By the time lunch ends, I'm mentally exhausted, but confident we've covered all the bases for now.
As we're leaving, Hunter claps a hand on my shoulder. "By the way, don't think I didn't notice you dodging my question about your new girl. Just remember what happened last time you got emotionally invested."
I tense slightly. "This is different."
"Sure, it is," he says, clearly unconvinced. "Just don't lose your head, or your heart, okay?"
I nod more to end the conversation than in agreement. Hunter means well, but he doesn't understand. What I feel for Skye after just one meeting isn't infatuation or simple lust. It's... recognition. As if some part of me has been waiting for her.
My phone buzzes as I climb into my car. It's a text from Skye.
Skye: Been thinking about tomorrow all day. Should I wear anything specific?
A smile tugs at my lips as I type my response.
Me: Something easily removed. And no underwear.
Her reply comes quickly.
Skye: Yes, Sir.
That evening, I'm reviewing research papers in my home office when my mind wanders again to Skye. I've been fantasizing about all the ways I want to bind her, the patterns I want to create across her skin, and the sounds she'll make when I push her to her limits.
But there's more to it than just physical desire. I want to know her, what she thinks, and what she feels, what drives her. It's been a long time since I've wanted that level of connection with anyone.
I reach for my phone, wondering if it's too late to text her again. It's just past ten.
Me: What are you doing right now?
Her response comes almost immediately.
Skye: Reading for work. Thrilling stuff. You?
Me: Thinking about how I'm going to tie you up tomorrow night.
There's a longer pause before her next message appears.
Skye: Now I won't be able to focus on my reading.
I smirk, satisfied with the effect I'm having on her.
Me: Good. I want you thinking about me. About what I'm going to do to you.
Skye: Tell me.
I consider how much to reveal, how explicit to be. But why hold back? I want her anticipation to build, want her wet and ready for me before she even arrives at the club.
Me: First, I'll blindfold you. You'll feel my hands on you, but you won't know where I'll touch next. I'll take my time undressing you, exposing you inch by inch.
I pause, giving her time to absorb my words before continuing.
Me: Then I'll bind your wrists, securing them above your head.
Skye: God, Gage... I wish I could see you. Touch you.
Me: Soon. Tomorrow night, I'm going to make you come harder than you ever have before. But not until I say you can.
Skye: Yes, Sir.
We continue our exchange. The messages growing more explicit, more intense. By the time we say goodnight, I'm painfully aroused and more certain than ever that tomorrow night can't come soon enough.