Page 6 of Red

“Si-” I stopped, realizing that Mary knew my first name, not the code name I was using for the club. “Sophia.”

He powered on his walkie, repeating my name. A deep, mahogany voice purred that I was cleared for entry and he stepped aside. The cabbie that seemed ready to get rid of me at the start of our ride lingered at the gate, but I refused to look back like I was having second thoughts. I was headed toward my destiny.

When I stepped through the giant oak doors, I was immediately hit by the smell of vanilla and lust. The corridor was immersed in darkness, but I saw a shimmer of movement in the pitch blackness. As the glitter came closer, I realized it was a dress, and the woman wearing it shined just as brightly. Her skin was the color of dark chocolate and her hair hung in dark coils that framed her smiling face.

“I’m Mary. I’m sure you have half a million questions, so let’s get started.” She dove right in, taking me to a door with the most intricate woodwork that I’d ever seen. When she twisted the doorknob, I couldn’t stop my hand from covering my mouth. It was a room filled with shelves, and on each shelf was a mask ranging from the simple but elegant, to wild and outrageous with beads and feathers, full masks and half masks.

“It’s your choice, but we strongly recommend using masks while at Hush,” she explained. “It lends to the environment of escape and anonymity.” She gave me a once over, settling back on my face. “You don’t strike me as a woman that wants to be anonymous, but I suggest you use a little something extra until you acclimate yourself.”

I tried to not get too excited since she sounded like she was already considering me part of the team. Instead, I plucked a black, glittery masquerade mask and pulled it over my face.

One glance in the mirror on the wall, and I knew that I was ready.

Chapter Four: Desmond

It should have been heaven.

Better than heaven, actually. There was no blinding, all seeing glow, just the allure of darkness. There were no angels singing hymns, instead, a DJ spun hypnotic tunes that the naked and devastatingly sexy women danced to. Dances that called to me, begging me to get lost. To do some really sinful things.

The familiar ache hit me as I punched in the access code, drawing closer to my sanctuary. My bliss. Hush was a playground for the disturbed; men and women like me who needed more than gentle caresses, a bottle of wine and baby making music to scratch our erotic itch. For us, for me, there was something far more compelling in the taboo. The pull of a woman so raw, so exposed, starving to give her body to me, was like some drug and I needed more. To push the edge. To get closer to that first high. The high that made me forget.

Tonight was Submissive’s Choice at Hush. On a typical night it didn’t take a detective to determine who was submissive. Most women’s flavor of kink was revealed when they walked through the great oak doors. They shed their jackets like a moth bursting from its cocoon, transforming into something erotic.

The Dommes, women who craved the same control that I did as a Dominant, were wrapped in skin tight dresses, harsh corsets, and razor sharp heels. The submissives, in all of their demureness, heads bowed, airy giggles floating from their lips like virgin maidens, left little to nothing to the imagination. They discarded their cloaks and trench coats and beneath, they broadcasted their wares. Their gifts. Their bodies.

And that’s why you’re here. To pick one, to pick as many as your heart desires. True-as the owner of Hush there was always some business to attend to, but if that was my aim, to get shit done, I would have made the trek to the hills during business hours. Before the sun set and the property underwent some magical transformation. Castles, dragons, and St. Andrews crosses. It was fantasy come to life.

But I wasn’t fulfilling any fantasies. Throne-like chairs were set in a circle, tower candles roaring around me, casting shadows over the bare skin that told me to let my fingers roam somewhere interesting....but there was no spark.

A woman with caramel colored skin and wild, thick curly tendrils had already asked me to make her my sub for the night. She wore nothing except the diamond studded collar that all submissives were wearing for the occasion. Sitting down should have been uncomfortable and impossible when she crooked a finger and asked me to dance. I shook my head and tossed my gaze to the right.

There was another collared woman, this one dressed in a sheer black fabric that billowed over her body like smoke. It should have roused me from the daze I was in. The last emotion the private dance she was giving me should have inspired was boredom. My arousal should have matched hers blow for blow. She knew how to move, rolling her hips, pulling me in with her mahogany eyes and her waist length amber locks. Instead, I looked down at my glass, like it was the alcohol's fault that I felt nothing at all.

"Nothing appealing on the menu?"

I clenched my drink and grit my teeth. The thick, Aussie accent invading my ears ensured that I was well on my way to a lackluster evening. I managed to lock eyes with the intruder, even nodding in acknowledgement which was more than he deserved. Colin Faulkner was worth roughly the same amount as I was, a powerhouse in the real estate world. He was dressed similarly, in a black two piece suit, slackened tie, and bored expression. We even had similar cravings, both of us firmly on the Dominant end of the spectrum. That's where our similarities ended. My desire to have a woman submit to me sexually, to give me control, was because the power play got me hot. Pain, degradation, and general cruelty is what got Colin's engine running. Hush had lost several submissive women after they had a session with the burly businessman. We had a strict,no tolerance policy for Dominants and Dommes who went too far. Colin made me wish that I'd been more specific...none of his playmates lodged any complaints, they just left in tears and/or bruised.

He was basically on my shit list, but it didn't stop him from taking a swig of his bottle of vodka and letting out a whoop like we were throwing a party in his honor. "Look at all these hot women, Des! Are we lucky sons of bitches or what?"

I almost corrected him. The only people who were allowed to call me 'Des' were people I cared about. He didn't make the cut. "Good evening, Colin." Now get the fuck away from me.

He didn't get the picture, hovering beside me. Leering at the brunette on her hands and knees before us. He made a sound like he was about to dive into something succulent. "Are you going to have a piece or should I?" It was a rhetorical question since he leaned forward like he was about to grab her.

I grabbed him first. "It's been a couple of week's since our last discussion, but surely you know that you don't touch a woman without her invitation?"

He snatched from my grasp. Anger shot from his eyes like lasers. If he wasn't already bald, the steam coming off of him would have been enough to melt off any scraggly blond locks. He looked ready to take a swing and all the dancing around us stilled for a moment.

Do it, I thought silently, releasing him and leaning back with a smile. I could take him with one hand tied behind my back, but that wasn't why I was hoping he'd get physical. Doms like Colin gave the rest of us a bad name. He managed to skirt the rules about taking things too far with playmates, probably writing them a check or threatening to out them, but if he took a swing at me, he was out of here...right after I knocked him on his ass.

He glanced around us, still huffing, then buttoned his jacket and stormed off to make some other woman's life hell. One of the monitors, a burly ex military man who didn't like Colin anymore than I did, met my gaze and without a word being exchanged, he made a beeline for the corner Colin was pouting in.

The submissive in front of me stretched lazily, like a kitten waking up from her slumber. Her collar glittered as she looked up at me from behind her mascaraed eyelashes. "My hero."

I lifted the rim of my glass to my lips. She wasn't making it easy, but she deserved more than a halfhearted Dom for the night. I rose from the chair, adjusting my mask. "Have a good night."

I weaved through the crowd. Temptations were uncharacteristically easy to say no to. You going soft? The whole point of this was that it was so far removed from my career. Away from the cameras, kitchens, and failed dreams. But I couldn't stop replaying Roger's last words on loop.

"How do you sleep at night?"

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