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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~ ~ Zack ~ ~
"Here?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with a shy smile.
Christ, she was beautiful. Achingly beautiful.
"Yes. Here." I hooked an arm around Sasha's waist, pulling her close until there was no space between us.
A knot the size of Texas constricted my chest with the weight of the past lingering like a ghost. But I shoved all that aside back into its box and focused on Sasha. Because I was about to go a step further, go against every instinct, into unfamiliar ground.
Be softer. Gentler. Sweeter.
Show her I was more than the man... or the monster she knew.
Although I knew damn well soft and gentle was not what Sasha truly wanted.
Yeah, a sadist who thinks he can be sweet, is like a narcissist who thinks he's humble.
Shut the fuck up!
Although that annoying voice in the back of my head had a point.
However, I was finally coming to terms with what I wanted: a relationship and it would take effort, adaptation, and compromise-things I'd never done. But if I wanted this to work, I had to change. Sasha and Ellis had barged into my life and made me want something different. So, right now, a change in direction was necessary.
I needed to show Sasha a part of myself that wasn't defined by pain or control.
Sasha tilted her head up, dark eyelashes fluttering. "I hope no one is watching me right now."
"Don't worry," I smirked. "They're watching me."
A velvety laugh bubbled out of her. "How does your ego even fit in this room?"
"It's a tight squeeze, but I manage," My smirk fell away, turning serious. "No one is watching us."
She nodded but still flicked a glance over my shoulder.
The knot in my chest pulsed with a strange life to it now. Being here, alone, just the two of us—suddenly, everything about Sasha seemed more vivid: her skin brighter, her eyes bluer, her smile sweeter.
Was it because she knew the mess of my fucked up past and wasn't running away from it. Not that I thought she would. She'd also not baulked at my confession of ending that bastard's life.
Weirdly, I had also felt a change within me too. Sharing—confessing whatever you wanted to call it had been cathartic and long overdue.
It didn't make it all better, the pain I'd caused couldn't be unwound, but a future where the two of them let me share in what they already had was still in reach.
My only job now was not to fuck it up.
And that challenge had me brandishing a smile.
"Okay, you're smiling," she said, "And that's a new one."
