Chapter 1
Emma
"That spineless, useless bastard!" I screech.
My best friend Kayla doesn't even ask; she simply plucks my phone from my hands to read my boyfriend's text.
Sorry, ex-boyfriend.
Brody: Don't want to do this anymore. We need to break up.
"What the hell?" she demands once she's read it.
Brody and I have been dating since our junior year of high school. We went to the same college, and we're both seniors there. We came home this week to have Christmas with our families. He got in two days ago because he finished all his exams, but I had one last exam to take, so I arrived earlier today.
Kayla has always lived next door to me, so the moment my car pulled in, she was in my room helping me get settled and catching up. That's when this lovely text came in.
"It's been almost six years, and he's ending it in a text? He’s spineless." She tosses my phone on my bed and looks at me.
I know she's waiting for me to process what’s happened, and I'm trying. "I'm more pissed off that he broke up with me by text. What does that tell you about our relationship?" I flop down on the bed next to her.
"I know you’ve been on the fence for a while, and maybe he has too. You deserved an in-person discussion, but what's done is done." Kayla picks up my phone and her thumbs fly across the screen. A minute later she hands it to me, and I see she’s responded to Brody.
Me: Glad we’re on the same page, only I was going to do it in person. Best of luck.
I sigh. "What was the point of that?"
"So he knows you got it and to confirm the breakup. Because I won't let you sit here and wallow over Christmas break.”
Knowing Kayla, I’m sure that means she already has a plan. One she won't let me back out of.
"You're going to get dressed up in something cute and sexy. We’re going to Club Red."
"What?" I ask in shock.
"Listen, we both know Brody wasn't fulfilling you in bed. That's why the books you read keep getting dirtier and dirtier. You forget we share an eBook library. I see what you read, and full disclosure: I read most of it myself. So, let's explore our kinky sides as a fuck you to the whole situation."
She isn't wrong about the books or Brody. Things used to be good between us, but lately, he's been distant, as have I. When we have sex, it's always the same two positions. Even worse, he hasn't cared if I get off, only that he does.
"Damn, I should’ve left his ass a long time ago," I sigh.
Kayla nods and walks across my room to my closet. I may be in college, but my room at my parents hasn't changed. Everything I don't take with me to school is still here.
As Kayla goes through my closet, she finds a black leather skintight dress I wore as part of a Halloween costume one year and pulls it out.
"I'm not wearing that." I shake my head.
"Yes, you are, and you’ll still be overdressed."
"You've been before?"
"I saw a guy last year, and we went a few times. He had a membership, and I still have member privileges, so get moving. We have a bit of a drive into the city."
We grew up in a small suburb of Chicago, but Club Red is downtown, so it will take us some time to get there. My parents are at dinner with friends tonight and won't be home until late, so why not go and check it out?
I have to admit, I’m curious to see if it's anything like the books I've read about BDSM clubs. I sigh as I reach for the dress Kayla is holding.
"I’ll go get dressed and be back to do your hair." She grins as she heads next door to her parent's place.
I reluctantly slide on the dress. It's tight and hugs every curve of my body. What can I say? I’m a curvy girl, and I can't remember the last time I had a thigh gap. But even in this slinky dress, I think I look pretty damn good.
I’m applying my makeup when Kayla walks back into the room.
"Damn, girl! I don't swing that way, but if I did, I'd do you!"
It’s not the first time she's said that, and I get it's a compliment, even if I know it's not true.
"Good thing I don't swing that way either, or I might take you up on it," I joke nervously.
Kayla is a genius with hair, so I’ve always given her free rein styling mine. For me, making an effort is tossing it up in a ponytail.
Before I know it, we’re in downtown Chicago, standing outside what looks like a warehouse with the word ‘Red’ above the doors in neon letters. I can’t see any hint of the interior because of the dark tint of the glass doors, so I’m not expecting the bright white reception room when Kayla opens the door.
A woman in jeans and a t-shirt sits at a desk, and two men stand before a set of double doors at the far end of the room.
The lady at the desk hands me a stack of papers to read and sign. While I’m completing the paperwork, she and Kayla chat.
The paperwork consists of stacks of consent forms. Stuff like you must adhere to the rules, ensuring that you understand stop doesn't mean stop, that the non-private rooms have video surveillance, and that security cameras are situated everywhere.
I read the information on how to get help and the consequences of breaking up a scene or doing something without a person's consent. Red means stop, yellow means you’re close to hitting a limit, and green means good to go. Then I get to the paper with the monthly and yearly dues, and my stomach drops at the prices. Thankfully, I'm only here as a guest for the next week while I'm home for Christmas break because there’s no way I could afford these prices while I’m in school. Once I hand over the papers, Kayla takes my hand and leads me toward the two men by the double doors, who look like massive NFL football players.
They open the door for us, and music hits us as we step from the bright white office to the dark main room. The room has black concrete floors, walls, and furniture with red accents everywhere.
To the right is the large bar, and in front of us is the largest black leather sectional I've ever seen. It easily seats thirty people with room to spare. A stage is at the far end of the room, but it's currently dark. The ceiling is over three stories high, with glass windows that look like the side of an office building going up the length of the wall and looking down at the main room.
"Those are the themed playrooms on the second floor and the private rooms on the third floor. Come on, let's get you a drink. You’re going to need it," Kayla says, dragging me to the bar.
She orders and the bartender gives me the once over before handing me my drink and moving on to the next person. When I turn to look at the room, a scene on the couch catches my attention.
A woman kneels between a man’s legs, giving him a blow job. Sitting next to them is a woman with her man on his knees, eating her out for the whole world to see. Another man and woman sit on the couch making out while their partners give them oral. This place is wild.
I'm pulled from the scene when a man steps up beside me. I turn to tell him I'm not interested when I see the last person I expected to find here.
Zion.
My ex-boyfriend’s older brother.
