Page 12 of Choosing Hope
There’s a slight ringing sensation in my ears. Like a warning bell. Has he been speaking to my wife about this?
“I doubt I’ll see her. When I go home, she’s usually asleep.”
“Ifyou go home.” His response is so fast it’s jarring. “You’ve been staying at the hotel a lot. Why?”
I clench my teeth, refusing to discuss this. I’ve always stayed at the hotel when I work late. This arrangement isn’t new, and he fucking knows it. If Sophie hadn’t wanted a house in the countryside, we’d have lived in town and I would have gone home every night.
“Have you just called to lecture me, or was there some other reason for being so desperate to speak to me?” I spit the words out like venom, hoping to force him to back off.
“You’re playing a dangerous game my friend. By continuing like this, you’re heading for certain destruction. As your best friend, I’m warning you that something needs to change.”
“Fuck off, Carlo,” I yell. “Don’t you think I realize what a cunt I am? I don’t need you to swan in like a knight in shining armor and try to fix my fucking disaster of a life. I’ll deal with it on my own.”
I tap the red button to cancel the call, my hand shaking with rage.
As my head flops back onto the headrest behind me, I can’t help but see Tony’s concerned eyes regarding me.
He can fuck off too.
After such a long day dragging over the fucked-up memories of my life plus my argument with Carlo, I need a distraction. So, I ask a disgruntled Tony to take me to my sex club, Locked.
I've been meeting Kalie fairly regular for four months. Her liberal manner helps to keep the noises in my mind quiet for a few hours.
I rarely fuck Kalie. Barely touch her. Just set her tasks, watch her obey—or not—and take what I need from the view. She’s, my distraction, a spoiled little rich girl, looking for fun. She’s my excuse not to think about the things I really want. The things I shouldn’t want. Kalie is the first woman I've met who has distracted me from my thoughts about Carlo effectively for a few hours.
I take another sip of my scotch, as I sit watching Kalie. She’s bound one of the club’s staff to the St. Andrews cross and is kneeling in front of her.
“If you let her come, you lose your reward,” I growl, in a gravelly voice, watching Kalie’s tongue work over Jen like a woman possessed.
She knows the rules. She knows she’ll fail. Hell, she wants to fail. She craves my punishments more than my rewards. That’s what makes her my perfect little whore.
She gives me the illusion of being the kind of man I’m supposed to be—alpha, dominant, in control. A man who doesn’t ache for the wrong person.
Tonight’s no different. I’ve made sure she’ll lose, slipping vibrating eggs inside both girls, the remotes clutched in my fist. Jen’s already shaking, groaning, fighting a battle she’s doomed to lose.
“She’s dripping down her leg. Clean her up, you filthy bitch,” I order, twisting the dial higher and tugging the chain linking the clamps on Kalie’s nipples and clit.
Her gasps hit me like a shot of whiskey, burning down my spine.
I count down slowly from ten, knowing Jen won’t last. At five, she breaks, screaming as the orgasm rips through her. The sound echoes in my chest, a dark, ugly triumph curling my lips.
Kalie doesn’t stop licking, not even when Jen begs. She doesn’t know how to stop. As if she becomes lost in her own lust.
By the time she’s done, her face is slick, her grin smug and filthy enough to make my cock throb. Kalie gives me what I need to keep my head above water. At least for a while. She staves the cravings that scare the hell out of me.
I release Jen’s bonds carefully, lifting her to the bed, pulling the egg free and tossing it into the sanitary box. She mutters something about my being mean. I grin and tuck the blanket around her like I’m some fucking gentleman instead of the bastard I am.
Then it’s Kalie’s turn. She looks up at me like she’s starving, but I’ve already decided how this ends. No orgasm for her tonight. Just denial, because pain won’t teach her half as much as frustration.
I pull the toys free, ignoring her protests and tug the cord harder than necessary, earning a squeal that shoots straight to my dick. She’s soaked, desperate, practically vibrating in need. If I wanted, I could take her right here, lose myself in her body—but I don’t. Because she’s not the one I want tonight. She never is.
Under the blanket, her hand moves, testing me. Hoping to push me. I don’t even look at her as I snap, “Touch yourself and you won’t see me for a month.”
She freezes instantly. Good girl.
“Goodnight, ladies. And thank you,” I say with a mocking smile as I leave, already knowing my business partner, Travis, will take over where I left off. He always does.
I find him at the bar and slide him the keycard.
