Page 2 of Plaything

I understood his frustration; we were all experiencing the same feelings of doubt. Sex clubs, dating websites, and meeting people in person had only brought disappointment. After all, the perfect submissive wasn’t just going to walk through our door.

“I agree. It would be best to take a break for a while. The constant catfishing and letdowns are starting to irk me,” Niko said. “I don’t want to give up, but every day my faith is lacking,” he admitted.

Dominic nodded. “I need a break, too,” he agreed.

Aiden glanced at me. “I don’t think the women were looking for exists,” he said just above a whisper. “If we don’t find a submissive within a year, I’m getting a girlfriend.”

“Knowing you’ll be unhappy?” I asked.

“I’m already unhappy,” he shot back.

A thick silence filled the room while we thought. Maybe taking a short break from looking would be good for us. Aiden was clearly at his breaking point, ready to throw in the towel. Dominic got colder and colder by the day, slowly losing his excitement. Niko tried to be hopeful, but even his disappointment was showing. It’d taken its toll on me as well. Kicking women out has become routine, unlike my usual respectful demeanor.

Not having someone to care for was tearing us down. All I wanted was for her to finally make an appearance in our lives and build us back up. She was out there; I knew it. She had to be, or I didn’t know what we’d do...

Chapter Two

Odette

One year later

I tried to balance listening and taking detailed notes as Professor Niko Moreno lectured. I’d been in his classes for about two years now, and his teaching style just worked for me. Hence, I always came back to his math classes.

Starting college classes in high school helped me excel and accelerate quickly. Of course, the constant pressure from my father was always with me. Metaphorically, I carried the weight around my ankle and dragged it around everywhere I went.

My mom had never been in the picture, and my dad remarried several times. He was disgustingly wealthy, and it showed. Unfortunately for me, all that money never bought him an ounce of kindness.

The ball and chain with his unrealistic goals and expectations of me lessened once I moved out. He calls me maybe once a month, and it was always the same: ‘How are your grades?’ ‘You’re not making a fool out of our family name by partying, are you?’ ‘Try harder.’

Charles Whitlock was a very prideful man, and I did my best to make him proud of me, no matter how insufferable he was. After all, it was his money that paid for my tuition and dorm.

I swear, once I got my degree, I was getting a job as an engineer and cutting myself off. No amount of money was worth the way he made me feel.

Because of him, I’d spent my entire adolescence trying to be the perfect poster child for him to brag about. As a twenty-year-old graduating with a bachelor’s degree in engineering in a few months, I still have yet to develop any kind of social life.

It hurt to admit it, but I just wanted to hear him say he was proud of me. Just once. Proud of the straight A’s I’d maintained since middle school. Proud of all the awards I’d won in volleyball that I’d been playing since middle school. I just wanted to hear him say those words and acknowledge my achievements.

I looked up from my notebook at Professor Moreno, watching him write on a whiteboard. His hair was dark brown, several shades lighter than my black hair. It suited him perfectly, falling above his hazel eyes. I did my best not to stare at him, but sometimes it was impossible. He was handsome in the way that he spoke and presented himself.

“Any questions,” he turned to the class.

A few students raised their hands. Even after two years, I had never once spoken to him—I’d never had any reason to.

I typically lie low in the back of the class and take notes. That was the best way I learned: keeping to myself so there were no distractions.

The bell rang, and I packed my bag. I beat the foot traffic, leaving in a hurry. It was a cold winter day, and I wanted to return to my cozy little dorm. My leggings and t-shirt didn’t help shelter me from the chill. My hair is long and sometimes can act like a blanket, but this wasn’t one of those times. I typically didn’t dress so lazily, but it was laundry day.

I made it to my dorm but struggled with opening the door. It felt like there was something heavy placed on the other side. I pushed my eyebrows together, pushing hard, opening the door enough for me to step in.

My eyebrows knitted together as I looked down at all my belongings in boxes. “Hey, Jade?” I called out to my roommate. We weren’t very close, but we were nice to each other. Her classes and mine are complete opposites, so we weren’t home at the same time.

Jade stepped into the area, her clothes wrinkled and messy. “Oh, about that...” she nervously pushed her hair behind her ear. Her obnoxious boyfriend came around the corner and wrapped his arms around her stomach.

“Hey, why is my stuff packed?” I asked. Maybe she was just reorganizing or choosing a different decoration style? Hopefully, my belongings were just in the way.

She folded her hands in front of her. “Well, Caiden and I decided to share a dorm. We’ve been together for a few months now, and it’s getting pretty serious. You understand, don’t you?” She gave me a small smile.

I widened my eyes, looking between the two of them. No. No, I didn’t understand. “I’m confused. You can’t just kick me out. I pay to live here?” I tried to keep my voice calm.

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