Second Chance Dom

Chapter 1

Stainless and concrete as far as the eye could see. Between the décor and the music, the owners of Fitte weren’t aiming for a romantic atmosphere, but it held a charm that appealed to Riley anyway. The brutal honesty of the space made her blood buzz with anticipation.

The bass pumping through the speakers throbbed through her body. The music was heavy, dark, growling – a perfect match to the environment and what she was there for.

Riley stood on her tiptoes to reach Jack’s ear. “This place is awesome.”

He nodded. “Told you.”

“Why the massive confidentiality agreement?” They’d had to sign a stack of documents before entering the BDSM club-slash-hotel, and the man who’d presented it to them seemed determined they actually read through every page.

Jack nodded discreetly toward a couple in the left corner.

Riley squinted in that direction. Was that…? Holy shit. She recognized the man from a blockbuster action movie that had just released but she couldn’t remember his name.

Her friend nudged her. “Don’t stare.”

Pulling her gaze away, she answered, “Right.”

“The club is always full of the rich and famous. But really, they put on their leather harnesses one buckle at a time, just like everyone else.”

She snorted, doing her best not to look around for more familiar celeb faces. “So, where to?”

Jack’s gaze swept the space. “Doesn’t matter. I’m looking for someone.”

This time, she nudged him. “Quit stalking your ex.”

“I’m not!” His mouth opened in outrage and his eyes widened in mock surprise.

She merely arched a brow.

Jack sighed. “You know me too well. Come on. Let’s find you someone to play with first.”

Riley was no stranger to the club scene but she usually had trouble finding someone she had a good sense about who could also get her where she yearned to go. Subspace.

Her intuition rarely led her to weirdoes, which was good, but she almost never reached subspace and its hazy blissful after-glow. Lately, she’d been craving it desperately. Insomnia had been plaguing her. Before she resorted to sleeping pills, she wanted to try a good hard play session. Even if someone topped her well, and gave her the pain she desired, maybe she could drift off tonight.

Jack was already weaving through the space, heading toward a darker alcove. She rushed to catch up, trying not to gawk at the various scenes that played out. She knew better, but it’d been a while since she’d watched porn or even masturbated so everything felt new and sexy.

He stopped near the bar, where a sign indicated the limit was one drink per customer. When he turned to her, he said, “Stand here and look cute.” His gaze raked her then he gave a frustrated sigh. “Girl, I know you’re in a rut but you need to check the mirror once in a while.” He pinched her cheeks, fluffed her hair then tugged her top down slightly to reveal her ample cleavage.

“Hey!” She shooed his hands away. “It took me twenty whole minutes to pick this outfit out!”

“I can tell.”

She was about to tell him off but his gaze jerked suddenly to something behind her and she spun to see who it was.

Adam.

He locked gazes with Jack. Her friend practically melted on the spot. With a smirk, Adam crooked a finger at him.

Chuckling, she told him, “You need to stop kidding yourself. You’re obviously still together.”

“I’ll be right back, I swear,” he replied, eyes never leaving Adam.

“Sure you will.”

Jack stumbled his way to Adam – the man was sex on a stick and she couldn’t blame Jack for following him around like a puppy.

She turned her back to the bar and sighed. Alone again.

At least the view was hot. In front of her, a shirtless man with a sinfully cut body reeled in a piece of rope, recoiling it. A girl kissed his cheek and gazed up at him with longing, but wandered off with her friends.

Solid muscle and tanned skin. Nice. Her gaze dipped down. Sexy ass in a pair of low-hanging jeans. She felt a little guilty so shamelessly ogling him but really…if he was here, and shirtless, he couldn’t possibly be shy.

There was something oddly familiar about him though. The smooth way he moved. His stance. That ass. His dark hair was short and thick. She leaned a bit to see his profile but the way he was turned, she’d need to topple over to catch a look.

Sure she’d grown up in town but it’d been years since she’d come back. A lot had changed. Most of her high school friends had moved on, or had babies. They wouldn’t be in a place like this. Other than Jack. He still worked at one of the casinos – no babies. But Vegas was his city. He was meant to be here.

Sighing, she scanned the crowd for him. He and Adam were either making out or fighting. When she didn’t spot them, she turned back to the man she’d been nearly drooling over before.

He’d shifted and was facing her now as he tied off the coil of rope. Riley’s breath caught in her throat. Strong jaw, dark stubble on his chin, heavily shadowed eyes but she knew they were a warm brown when he smiled.

Nathanial Sexton.

Fuck.

She hadn’t seen him in…seven years? Things between them hadn’t ended well.

Fuck fuck fuck.

She had to get out of here before he saw her. She fought the urge to jump over the bar and hide behind it but that would only draw more attention.

Shit. Where was Jack?

She started to casually slide away, keeping an eye on him. If he looked up from what he was doing, she’d turn and run. Yeah. That sounded like a good plan. Not immature at all.

God he was hotter than ever. He’d been boyish cute when they’d been together in high school, but now… This was a whole other level.

He looked up. Caught her gaze. His brow furrowed. Recognition set in. She’d forgotten to run. Too late now.

She was helpless to look away. Biting her lip, she gave an underwhelming little wave. He made a beeline for her. His eyes darkened as he grew closer, reminding her of a predator stalking his prey. She shrunk back a bit, self-consciously yanked on her mini-skirt then her tank top.

“Riley Dawson?” he said when he drew up to her.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Her cheeks heated. Of all the place to run into an ex, a BDSM club had to be the worst. “I, uh…I’m just here with a friend.”

He chuckled. “Just being supportive? Sure, okay.”