PART 1
lucas
CHAPTER 1
Her laughter was the first thing that caught his attention. Vibrant and shining. So effervescent and full of unfettered joy that it arrested him and he couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking just moments earlier.
He turned, seeking the source of the captivating music. And then he thought he’d heard it before. When he was much younger.
A lifetime ago.
Ren.
The memory of her still had the power to make him ache.
So much regret. Guilt. Wishful thinking. If only he had it to do all over again.
He hadn’t thought about her in a while now. Not because she’d slipped from his mind, but because he’d willed himself to stop thinking of the beautiful, shy eighteen-year-old girl who’d meant the world to him when he was in his early twenties.
It still hurt him to bring her to mind years later. She reminded him of mistakes he’d made. How he’d hurt her when it was the very last thing he’d ever wanted or intended.
He scanned the interior of the restaurant, his eyes sharp as he took in each table. But he couldn’t find the source of the burst of laughter, nor did he hear it again.
“Is something the matter?” Damon Roche asked.
Cole turned back to his friend and dinner companion and cast an apologetic glance in Serena Roche’s direction.
“No, nothing. I just thought I heard… I was reminded of someone I once knew.”
Damon slid his hand from Serena’s arm and picked up his glass of wine. His touch never strayed far from his wife. His now pregnant wife. If Damon had been possessive before—and he was forbiddingly possessive of Serena—he was even more so now that she was round with his child.
The two shared a nontraditional relationship. Serena was submissive to Damon’s dominance in and out of the bedroom. It was a relationship that made Cole envious, dangerously so. Spending time with the couple he called friends made him face his past mistakes. Made him realize that if he’d only been more careful and mindful in the past, he could even now be enjoying a relationship like Damon and Serena’s with a woman he’d loved with everything he had.
But he’d hurt her in his impatience and ignorance.
He’d met many women in the years since. Women who were beautiful, submissive, willing to submit to him on a permanent basis, but none had captured his heart like Ren. The one woman he couldn’t have.
Until recently he hadn’t done more than touch or prepare women who frequented The House, the exclusive club devoted to sexual largesse, owned by Damon Roche. Cole was a frequent visitor. Damon trusted him. Only Cole had been trusted with Serena, Damon’s beloved wife, and even then his role was just preparation.
Only with Angelina had he allowed himself to become more intimate, to actually have sex and open himself to the pleasure of having a woman go quiet at his touch and command. But a part of him realized that Angelina had reminded him of Ren. And Angelina belonged to Micah, another of Cole’s friends, one he shared with Damon.
All of the women he’d allowed himself to soften around belonged to other men. Maybe that was why he was willing to indulge with them, because he knew they were no threat to his heart and soul.
“Is the food to your liking, Serena mine?” Damon asked.
Serena smiled. “It’s divine. I only wish I could eat more. I swear this kid is wrapped around my stomach, squeezing for all it’s worth. I can’t eat more than a small amount at a time, but then I get hungry. The result is I eat all day!”
Damon chuckled and lifted a glass of water before pressing it gently to her lips. “You need to eat. You’ve not been sleeping well lately. Our child is wearing you out. The calories will give you more energy.”
“Or just make me fat and lazy,” Serena muttered.
“Are you still set on not knowing the sex?” Cole asked, trying to maintain polite conversation. But he was rattled and the laughter had opened the door to his past that he tried to keep shut at all times.
A wistful light entered Serena’s eyes. She was a beautiful woman. Startling blue eyes and shiny black hair. He’d been drawn to her as well even though there had never been a question of her belonging to Damon. But again, there was something about her that had reminded him of his childhood sweetheart, and he often found himself unable to look away from Serena. And wish that he hadn’t messed up so badly with Ren, that they could have been older. Cole could have been wiser. Could have guided her as Damon had guided Serena. Maybe Ren would still be with him now. His. Beautiful, submissive, his treasure.
“There are days when I really want to know,” she said. She glanced over at Damon and smiled. “I made Damon promise not to let me cave even though he wants to know very badly whether we’re having a son or a daughter. He really wants a girl. I don’t care and maybe that’s why I want to be surprised.”
“Another girl in the fold would be entertaining,” Cole said. “I imagine Damon will be just as bad as Micah when it comes to his little girl.”
Serena rolled her eyes. “Oh God, don’t you know it?”
“She’s threatening to make me wear one of those damn baby carriers that Micah parades around in,” Damon said dryly. “He’s lost his goddamn mind ever since Nia was born.”
Cole snickered. “I’m going to remind you of this conversation when your own child is born. You’re overprotective of Serena as it is. I can’t imagine you’ll be any less so of the baby. Especially if you have a daughter.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to wear her twenty-four seven,” Damon said darkly.
Serena just grinned and stroked her fingers over Damon’s hand. Cole winked at her as if to say he agreed with her private assessment.
Distant laughter sounded again, sending a cascade of chill bumps up his neck. This time he reacted much quicker and jerked around, his gaze honing in on the source.
Finally, he saw her.
All his breath left him in a ragged rush. She was facing away, which was why he hadn’t been able to find her the first time. He could just see the hint of her profile. Smooth, dusky skin, creamy, beckoning his touch. A cascade of black hair tumbled down her back, going so low that he lost track of it.
She was petite. He could tell from here that she was a small woman, probably not much more than five feet. Her features were delicate. As she turned, he caught a glimpse of the slim column of her neck, but then she reached up and pulled her hair over one shoulder, baring the expanse of her back.
Her dress was backless and he froze as his gaze lighted on the tattoo trailing down her spine.
He couldn’t breathe. His fingers curled and uncurled as he stared, riveted to the sight. Almost in dread, he raised his gaze to her right shoulder, just over the blade. Would it still be there? Had the years been kind and diminished the reminder of his inexperience?
He couldn’t tell from this distance. Or maybe he didn’t want it to be there. A scar. Evidence of the care he hadn’t taken with a woman who trusted him with her heart and body.
Ren.
What was she doing here? It was her. The tattoo was unmistakable. Delicate and feminine. Just like her. A thin, scripty flowering vine from the small of her back to her nape. He’d traced it many times with his fingers, his mouth and his tongue.
Before he could get to his feet, the man sitting with Ren stood and extended his hand to her. She took it and gracefully rose from her seat. The man’s hold was possessive and intimate, a clear signal that he considered her his.
But when Ren turned where he could see her fully, Cole saw the wide silver band encircling her neck. It was a fist to his gut and he could only stare, so stunned that he couldn’t draw a breath.
He knew the significance of that piece of jewelry. It wasn’t decorative, although it was beautifully rendered and drew attention to her delicate features.
It was a sign of ownership.
A gift from a master to his submissive.
Serena wore such a symbol, but hers was a band that encircled her upper arm. Damon wasn’t a fan of collars. He found them demeaning. Cole agreed.
The surge of jealousy—and anger—that bolted through his veins took him completely off guard.
The man put his arm protectively around Ren, and she smiled up at him as they made their way to the exit. Power emanated from the man—a worthy adversary.
“Do you know him?” Cole asked urgently, glancing quickly back at Damon.
Damon’s gaze jerked up, his brow creased in confusion.
“The man there, with the Asian woman. They’re walking out now.”
“Why would you think I know…” Damon frowned and leaned forward. “Yes, I do, actually.”
“Who is he?” Cole demanded.
“He’s visited The House before, but not often. He prefers to keep to himself.”
“Who?” Cole asked again, his impatience an edgy burn under his skin.
“Lucas Holt.”
“What’s his story? Is he into the scene or is he just someone playing at the game?”
“He’s serious,” Damon said slowly. “His background checked out or he wouldn’t have been admitted to The House. He’s wealthy. Successful businessman. Owns several clubs both in Houston and Dallas. I think he recently opened one in Vegas. He spends a lot of time in Vegas but he has residences in Dallas and Houston as well.”
“Have you ever seen her at The House?” Cole asked. How close had she been all this time? Had they barely missed each other? Had she been present in the very place he frequented?
His pulse ratcheted up and he stood, the urge to go after her so strong that he was almost in motion when Damon spoke again.
“Sit down, Cole. Don’t make a scene. I’ll tell you what I know.”
Reluctantly, Cole retook his seat but watched the pair until they disappeared from view.
“Who is she?” Serena asked in a low tone.
She put a gentle hand on his arm, a gesture of comfort he appreciated, though it took everything he had not to snatch his hand back and go chasing after Ren.
Ren.
God. He couldn’t believe it. She was here. And she belonged, really belonged, to another man. There was a clear stamp of ownership for the world to see. He couldn’t even wrap his mind around it. He’d never imagined that Ren would have gone from their failed experimentation into a submissive relationship.
Jealousy. Anger. Rage.
Excitement.
Longing ate at his gut until his stomach churned and the food he’d eaten knotted into a giant fist.
“Tell me,” he rasped in Damon’s direction. He ignored Serena’s question for now. He had to know all he could about Ren.
Damon calmly sipped his wine, almost as if he were trying to infuse some of that calm into Cole. “I haven’t seen her at The House. But it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen Lucas. He isn’t big into the scene or into public displays for that matter.”
“Who did you see him with?” Cole bit out.
“He doesn’t bring his submissives to the club. When I saw him last, he was simply there to observe. He’s extremely private. He only has one woman at any given time. He’s loyal and he demands the same, but his relationships aren’t permanent.”
Cole frowned. “He’s a player?”
Damon shook his head. “I never got that impression. I’ve spoken to him before. Had drinks with him. He finds comfort in the women in his keeping. Most interestingly, he is completely faithful to his submissive. However, he has discreetly inquired in the past as to men for his woman. I think he likes to watch. Perhaps he even participates. But he himself only has sex with the woman in his care.”
“How the hell do you know all of this?” Cole demanded.
Christ, like he wanted to imagine Ren with other men while the bastard watched? He was a flaming hypocrite. He wasn’t so pissed he didn’t recognize the blatant hypocrisy in his anger. He’d had sex with a woman who belonged to another man. He’d indulged in Angelina more than once at Micah’s urging.
Damon shrugged. “We’ve talked on occasion. He’s asked for recommendations.”
Serena’s brow furrowed. “Are you trying to delicately state that you’ve been with some of his women?”
Damon smiled and lazily ran his fingers over her shoulder. “No, Serena mine. You of all people should know I don’t share. Even another man’s woman. I don’t look down on the practice. However, it isn’t for me.”
“I need to see her,” Cole said tightly. “I… have …to see her.”
“Is she important to you?” Serena asked, her blue gaze studying him intently.
“She used to be everything to me.”
Damon lifted an eyebrow. “I wondered.”
Cole sent him a questioning look.
“Let’s face it. You’ve had your pick of beautiful, willing women all but throwing themselves at your feet,” Damon said dryly. “And yet you’ve shunned them all. That speaks of a man whose focus is elsewhere.”