I merely stand here, taking it all in and trying to piece everything together.

Hale finally turns to face me again. “I don’t know what to say, Brielle. I don’t understand why you’re here.”

“I got the file you left for me.”

“And what…you just show up here? No phone call, no text, nothing for days.”

“I wanted to show you that I’m here. You, this lifestyle, it doesn’t scare me.”

He nods once, his expression stern. “And Kirby?”

“I told him everything. About me and you. About the feelings I had for him.”

He picks up a glass of whiskey from the table and downs the remainder of his drink.

“I told him I once wished for a future with him, but not anymore. I’ve grown. I’ve changed, and I want different things now.”

“What kind of things?”

I shrug, playing innocent. “Things that a Dom demands of his sub.”

“I’ve been drinking, Brielle,” he warns, his tone low.

“I don’t care.” I gesture to the chairs that he and Reece vacated. “Can we sit down for a minute and talk?”

He takes my hand and guides me to the plush leather armchair, sitting down across from me.

“Why did you show me all of that?” I ask.

“Because that’s me. That was everything. My past, the losses and pain I’ve experienced, it’s made me the man that I am, and I don’t share that with people, but I was worried that you’d fallen for the Gentleman Mentor. It’s happened before,” he adds with a faraway look in his eyes, and I know there’s a story there I’ll be digging into later.

“I needed you to see the real me,” he says, “warts and all, and decide if I was what you wanted. I want to keep you for myself, leave all that shit, the mentoring behind. I want you. But I wasn’t sure you even knew what you wanted. You’d held on to that fantasy of you and Kirby for so long that—” He shakes his head, looking down into his empty glass.

I place my hand on his knee. I’ve never seen Hale like this. He’s vulnerable and exposed in a way he’s never been before, and it scares me, but I like it.

“I didn’t fall for the Gentleman Mentor. I fell for you. I fell for the careful way you lifted my hair from my neck to kiss that sensitive spot below my ear. The feeling of your lips at my temple, the sweet and wicked things you whispered to give me the confidence I needed to soar. I fell for the sexy, disciplined control you maintain, the sweet way you are with your nana, all the real stuff that makes you you.”

His gaze softens and latches onto mine. “I wasn’t as good as I thought at hiding myself from you.”

I shrug. “Not even a little bit.” We’re silent for a few minutes, each happy to drink in the other’s presence. “You didn’t have to return the money,” I finally add.

“I didn’t feel right keeping it.” He leans closer. “Would you like a tour of the club?”

Eagerly, I nod. “Unless we’re going to run into any of your old girlfriends.”

“I haven’t dated in years, Brielle. I thought you knew that.”

“I guess there’s still a lot I’m fuzzy on.”

“Let me clear a few things up for you. Come with me.” He rises to his feet and offers me his hand.

As we exit the lounge via a back hallway, I snag a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, knowing I very well might need a dose of liquid courage.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hale

Having Brielle inside Crave makes me feel possessive and territorial in a way I’ve never experienced before. As we climb the stairs to the second level, Doms openly admire her. Even a few submissives lift their eyes to inspect her, silently wishing they look half as poised and beautiful as she does tonight. It makes me proud to have her on my arm, yet part of me wants to lock her away in a private room, away from the lecherous eyes that follow us.

I skipped the tour of the first floor, because it’s mostly just a lounge and bar meant for mingling, along with a public play area, which I’m sure she saw when she came in. The second floor is where the real action takes place.

“Where did you leave Kirby?” I ask, suddenly remembering she said she came with him.

“With Chrissy.”

I nod. “He’ll be fine then.” Chrissy only plays with real Doms, and since Kirby doesn’t even come close to fitting that bill, they’re probably just having a drink. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

We reach the first room, and I stop in the hall to face her. “If anything you see bothers you, just squeeze my hand, okay?”

She nods, and I push open the heavy steel door to the dungeon-inspired playroom. Hooks stud the floors, walls, and ceiling. A padded bench and an iron cross with restraints provide play areas, and they’re both currently occupied.

Given that New Year’s Eve is one of the biggest party nights, the club is packed with many people dressed in fetish gear. Brielle’s eyes are wide as she takes in everything. She’s quiet and almost contemplative about what she’s seeing, but she never once squeezes my hand as I guide her from room to room.

We only briefly tour the sterile hospital-themed room where a man is using a violet wand on his patient. Brielle flinches when the spark of electricity leaps from the end of the wand and onto the woman’s bare pussy.

“What is that?”