Kink Club owner, Zachary Coles would openly tell you commitment and monogamy are for fools and hedonism was the only game he subscribed too.
That was until he agreed to help out his long-time friend, Max Jenson and offer his son, Ellis a summer job...
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†† Ellis ††
"Why the fuck was I here again?" I muttered to myself, staring at the weird old building.
Risk... LA.
It looked different like I was seeing it for the first time when in fact I'd been here the day before to meet Jason.
The question was philosophical and one I'd been pondering since I stepped out of the Uber fifteen minutes ago.
My phone buzzed and I dipped into my pocket. It was from Sasha. Dad didn't have a heart attack. Call you later, it read, and Miss you.
That made me smile.
Another came through. And don't use your fists—your mouth's much better for this. 😉
That made me laugh.
Having fucked her another two times—what can I say, I'm just too irresistible to resist. Sasha had tried to sneak me out of her house.
It was a bust.
We ran slap-bang into her dad.
I'd wanted to come clean, no point in beating around that crazy bush, that, and it was pretty obvious what we'd been doing, Sasha looked well fucked... hell, we both did.
He wasn't happy and the glare he shot me should have planted me six feet under, however, he also looked confused.
This wasn't surprising, considering that my usual interactions with his daughter resembled a reality TV showdown, complete with bitchy comments and synchronised scowls.
On the upside. Sasha had handled it better than I thought fluttering her eyelashes and dropping a kiss on his cheek before ushering me past me him and out the front door.
And just to make sure he got the memo because he was watching through the open doorway, I wouldn't let her go back inside till I'd thoroughly kissed her.
Everyone including my family would know by dinner time.
Suited me just fine. I wanted to tell-every-fucking-one.
So, from there I headed home, showered and got in another Uber and here I was.
Was it crazy?
That was yet to be decided.
But like I'd told Sasha, and she had agreed and been supportive, I needed to figure my shit out. The last few weeks, he had become this relentless obsession in my head, like a splinter that you just couldn't remove.
And who knows, I might come face to face with him and feel ... nothing now.
And I was good with that.
I looked up at the building as I gawked at the intricate stonework, trying to see past the grandeur of the place. It looked more like a gothic mansion... but I'd heard this place was once owned by Marilyn Manson.
