Mine (Club Sin 7)

She glanced at Gabe with no excitement registering across her expression. She didn’t want this—she wanted me—and we all knew it.

Gabe made a low sound of disappointment. “I’ll treat you well, Caroline. There is absolutely no reason to look so upset.”

“I’m…” She sank further into her chair, her face pinched with emotion, when she a

ddressed me. “Have I done something to displease you, Sir?”

“Of course you haven’t.” Part of me wanted to reach out and help her overcome the rejection I forced upon her, but that would only show her that I cared. I couldn’t play games with a submissive’s emotions. “I’ve enjoyed our time together, but you need to move on. This is not up for discussion. Make your decision.”

I witnessed the fight in her mind blasting across her face. She had two choices—either agree to play with Gabe or return to play in one of our public clubs. Once a submissive had a taste of the luxury we at the DC could offer them, public play did not look so appealing anymore. We were experienced Dominants who knew how to increase pleasure with kink and who had a power—both financial and innate—that appealed to women.

She gave a long sigh, shifting her shoulders until they sat higher, portraying strength. Then she rose, walked over to Gabe and kneeled before him. “I am yours now, Sir.”

Gabe tucked a finger under her chin, lifting her face and staring deeply into her eyes. “I’m pleased that you are, and appreciate the acceptance I’m seeing now. Go out in the waiting room and wait for me there. I will come to you, and we can talk further.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She stood, saying nothing more, and went toward the door. Just as her hand wrapped around the handle, she looked at me. Heartbreak was visible in her eyes. Abandonment clouded her face.

That’s why I could never love a woman.

I fucking ruined every single one I touched.

Allie

I arrived home after my workday a few minutes before five o’clock and unlocked the door to my condo in midtown San Francisco. My place was walking distance to Union Square, the Civic Center, and just about every hotspot in San Francisco. Large windows wrapped around the exterior walls, and the view my condo offered was incomparable.

The design of my space was simple and modern, with an aqua-colored throw blanket on the back of the couch providing the brightest color in the room. I decorated in mostly neutral colors to allow the view to be the focal point. I loved this condo—it was the one luxury I awarded myself without feeling bad about spending money. My parents would’ve wanted me to live in a nice home, and I worked hard enough that I figured I had earned it, too. But, the home wasn’t extravagant, either, giving the appearance I had millions of dollars in my bank account; it looked like a condo that I could afford on the salary I made.

I locked the door behind me and dropped my purse on the small desk. As I stared out at my living space, I knew life would be easier with my new income. But really, I didn’t have it so bad to begin with.

My two-bedroom unit had been paid off by the trust fund my brother gave to me; he called it his duty to look after me. I had only been a homeowner for over a year now and loved it to pieces, but I would’ve given the home back if it had meant I could have had another day with my parents. If they hadn’t died, my brother would not have given me money.

I missed them. Terribly.

And I hadn’t touched my trust fund since I bought my house and car.

Thoughts of my past, and the realization that they went there because of Henry’s leaving, circled my mind as I walked into the open-concept living room. I reached my brown leather couch and dropped down onto the soft cushion, grabbing my iPad off the glass coffee table. I clicked Facetime and dialed my best friend, Taylor Erickson.

It wasn’t long before I saw Taylor’s face on the screen. She was so naturally pretty it sickened me sometimes. Her honey-colored hair was down today, framing her oval face, making her hazel eyes look even lighter than usual. “Hi, you,” I said, pulling my legs underneath me and leaning against the armrest.

“Hi, babe.” She smiled, flashing me her sparkly white teeth. “How was your day?”

“Interesting, to say the least.”

“Oh, really? What happened?”

I rehashed what took place at work today and ended with, “So, yeah, now I’m working for the famous Micah Holt.”

“Wow.” She waggled her eyebrows; her warm smile making me miss seeing it in person. “Nothing like having a little eye candy at work.”

“God, he’s so arrogant,” I grumbled, still confused by the whole interaction with him. It annoyed me that his comment For now, yes bothered me more than it should have.

I hated self-absorbed, money-hungry men like him.

So, why, when it came to Micah, did I have to remind myself of that?

Ignoring that disconcerting thought, I said, “Seriously, you should see him. He’s got the whole ‘I am a God and you should worship me’ vibe going on.”