Page 32 of Zade (Den of Sin)

I roll up to Den of Sin and park in the nearly empty lot. Right now there are few cars here but after eight, it’ll be packed. My buddy has done well for himself. When he told me in college that he planned to open a BDSM club I thought he was crazy. About three years after he opened the doors he told me he was starting virginity night, where girls would auction their purity. I told him I was concerned he’d end up in jail. After all, that sounds an awful lot like prostitution to me. However, I helped him as much as I could. Since it’s a private club he gets away with an awful lot. He just has to be very careful about who he lets in the door. Through the years he’s gotten many higher-ups in the police department as well as politicians in his pocket. Money talks. Always.

I walk through the doors and nod to the doorman. They don’t require my identification anymore, haven’t for a long time. I’ve been a member since Sin first opened his doors. Making my way through the nearly vacant club I head down the long hallway where his office is located. Knocking lightly I enter when he says to come in. I’ve learned the hard way to not just enter. Opening the door, I spot the blonde getting up off her knees while Sin zips his pants up. She blushes as she rushes out of the room and closes the door behind her.

“It smells like pussy in here,” I say as I lower into the chair on the other side of his desk.

Sin grins, “Should’ve been here a little earlier, Counselor. We could’ve shared that pussy like old times.”

I groan, “No thanks.”

Back in our college days we drank too much and shared many women. Now though I can’t even imagine fucking a woman other than Amira, I don’t want to.

He pours me a glass of bourbon and one for himself.

“Thanks. I want to talk to you about Amira.”

Sin shakes his head before grabbing his glass and taking a long pull from it, “The virgin?”

I nod, “She was, yes.”

He grins, “You fucked her? Your step-daughter?”

Tossing back my drink I set the empty glass on his desk, and narrow my eyes at him, “You’re missing the fucking point. I don’t want her here.”

He pours us both another two fingers of bourbon and then stares at me, “Have you told her you don’t want her here? If she’s your girlfriend, put your foot down.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, “She’s not my girlfriend and won’t be. I can’t have her like that. Yet, I can’t stomach her coming here and getting fucked by god knows who. You’ve seen her, she won’t have trouble finding a Dom.”

He grins wide, “You’re in love with her.”

I stare into my glass like it has the answers I need but I find nothing. I shake my head, “It doesn’t matter. I can’t be the man she deserves. I fucked her once. It ends there. She wants so much more than I’m capable of.”

Sin arches an eyebrow, “I think you’re a fool. That being said, I’m not banning her from the club, Zade. She’s eighteen. If you don’t want to make a life with her, fucking let her go.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

He chuckles loudly, “Then don’t. Problem solved.”

I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose for the one hundredth time today, “I can see my coming here was pointless.”

“Zade, I feel for you. However, I can’t start banning women from the club because someone doesn’t want them fucking other men. Without beautiful women, Den of Sin would go under. I know you have your issues but I suggest you do whatever you need to get past them. You are capable and worthy of being loved. Now get the fuck out of my office, you’re making me feel weak. And I don’t like it.”

I rise from my chair and set my empty glass on his desk.

“Alright Fucker. If I find her here, I can’t control what will happen.”

He shakes his head, “Zade, fix your shit because if you come into my club and start problems, I’ll handle it. You’ve been my closest friend since we were kids, please don’t let it come to that. I won’t ban her but anybody who causes trouble will be. You fucking know that.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say as I open the door and walk out of his office. I go out to my truck and climb inside. As I start driving home I try to figure out how I can get her to agree to stay the fuck away from this club. Never before have I had this problem. I’ve played with many women at the club that I don’t have a relationship with. They fuck other men and it’s never been an issue. Only a few times have I found one that I had regularly. Normally, they were only my submissive for a night because it was all I wanted. I’ve only had two that I had an exclusive agreement with. If they had fucked others I would’ve been pissed but not like this. The thought of Amira fucking another man makes me sick to my stomach. If I’m completely transparent with her about my relationship with her mother, I’m not sure how she’ll take it. Will she understand why I can’t be the man she wants me to be? Or will she only hate me?

As I make the drive home I attempt to sort out my thoughts. I can’t risk a romantic relationship with her when I know I’ll fuck it up. That is one surefire way to lose her forever and I won’t risk it. It’s not about not having feelings for Amira because I do. I’m not so clueless as to think I’m not in love with her. I’m well aware of why this hurts so damn much. I also know I have to value her more than I do myself, taking care of her is more important than my selfish fucking desires.

I pull into the driveway and take a deep breath as I park.Make this right, Zade. Don’t fuck it worse than you already have.

Walking in I smell the food before I see her in the kitchen. Amira turns to me with a radiant smile on her face, “I made you dinner, Daddy.”

The pit in my stomach grows more than the fucking Grinch’s heart. She went to a lot of trouble for this dinner, I can see it. Amira is dressed in a dark blue dress that falls above her knees, her blonde hair is done in soft curls, her eyes a smoky eyeshadow, lips painted bright red. Fuck she’s so goddamn stunning. I want to rush over to her and bury my face in her slender neck and inhale that sweet fucking scent. I want to touch her. Taste her. No, I want to fucking devour her while she becomes an absolute mess for me. Instead, I do none of those things. I nod, “You didn’t have to make dinner but thank you.”

I set my briefcase down on the couch, walk over to the kitchen table, and take a seat, “It smells really good.” I’m not the least bit hungry but she made it so the least I can do is eat. It would be rude to refuse to eat her cooking.

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