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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☼ Sasha ☼
Peering into the mirror I set my hands on my hips and moved from side to side. And I give a fleeting thought to whether or not the silver sequin short sheath dress was appropriate for tonight's little adventure.
Clothes are everything and posture reflects attitude, Sasha. If you hunch, you'll have a double chin and belly rolls. Is that what you want? To look fat?
I cringed as those delightful words replayed in my head. Yeah, because that's exactly what I wanted to hear after years of not seeing you—a lesson in posture.
Pfft. Bitch.
It was glaringly obvious her mothering skills were about as helpful as an umbrella in a hurricane and truthfully, I think her upping and leaving all those years ago was a blessing in disguise.
So I figured, screw it.
I looked damned good and she could kiss my go to hell.
My long dark hair was styled into artful waves and throw in a little liner to make my blue eyes pop and a light gloss on my full lips.
Stepping back I glanced over my reflection.
It was the perfect balance between sensual and sophisticated, exactly the impression I wanted to make tonight.
A low whistle from behind had me spinning around and my brow crunching to find the last person I wanted to see propping himself against the frame of the door with his ankles crossed.
Ugh. "You got nothing better to do than be a creeper?" I snarked wondering how long he'd been standing there, he also looked a bit too self-satisfied for my liking.
He raised an eyebrow before his eyes wandered downward.
That's right. Soak it all up. And it told me I had chosen the right dress.
And then I let my eyes slip over what he was wearing. "And why are you all fancied up?" He was effortlessly styled, suited and booted, and yeah, begrudgingly I had to admit he looked good.
A slow, cocky smile spread across his mouth. "I can hardly be a creeper if I'm your fiancé."
With a huff, "Fake fiancé!" I snapped. "And it doesn't give you any right to just walk into my bedroom whenever the mood takes you."
"I can do whatever I want, Princess." He pushed off the frame and slowly walked around my room like he was walking around an art gallery or a museum, picking up pictures of me and other trinkets I'd collected over the years. With his back to me, he asked, "So... Tell me, where are we going?"
"You're insane if you think I'm going anywhere with you!" In my eyes, he was to be avoided at all costs, like an STD-riddled dick... which he could quite possibly have anyway.
