“No.”

    “Please. Just for a minute.” She follows me out into the dark parking lot, panting as she struggles to keep up.

    “No.”

    “Why are you acting like this?” Penny tugs on my arm, forcing me to stop. “You’ve been avoiding me all night. You won’t even look at me. I’m not going to say anything. We’re friends, and friends don’t do that to each other.”

    Maybe not, but in my experience friendship ends when shame begins. Although it’s been years since I’ve told my secret to anyone outside Club Sin, the sense of shame still lingers. Yes, I’ve accepted I have needs that are considered unconventional, and I’ve found a community that embraces the world of kink, but I still can’t stop seeing myself as my family sees me—a disappointment, a failure, and a freak.

    Or, as Avery put it before she married my younger brother Beau on what was supposed to be our wedding day, a monster.

    “We’re not friends.” I turn to face her and almost drown in her deep blue eyes. “We’re acquaintances. And, yes, obviously it’s a concern given that I’ve just gone pro and I’ve already had reporters digging into my background.”

    “This isn’t about you,” she says as I turn to walk away. “It’s about me. I want to become a member of Club Sin. I want what you did.”

    Jesus Christ. Penny at Club Sin? “You have no fucking idea what goes on there.”

    Her lush lips press tight together. “I was there. I blooming well know what goes on.”

    Despite my irritation, I have to fight back a smile. Although she’s clearly angry, her attempt at swearing in that clipped British accent is sexy as hell.

    “It’s not a fucking game.” My fist curls around the handle of my bag, and my family ring bites into my finger. I should have taken it off when the family disowned me, but it was the one thing I couldn’t leave behind when I walked away. Now the heavy silver band bearing the Caldwell family crest is a burden I carry to remind me of what I could have had and who I could have been if I wasn’t so fucked up.

    “I know it’s not a game.” Her shoulders sag, and she twists the ring she wears on a chain around her neck. I’ve always wanted to know why she wears that damn ring. It’s a man’s ring, thick and heavy and too big for her delicate fingers. Did she have a man? I know she doesn’t have one now. Although she can never be mine, I’ve kept tabs on her through Ray, watched out for her when she’s been out with the team, and at night, when I’m alone…

    “It’s not a silly little fantasy, like you read in books.” My heart thuds in my chest as I try another tactic to dissuade her. “You want that; you want to try it out; you want what you read in books or see in the movies, there are plenty of places in San Francisco you can go.”

    Even in the dim light, I can see her anger rise. Her cheeks heat, her lips press into a thin line, and her eyes narrow.

    “Don’t be so condescending,” she snaps. “I know about the other clubs. I spent all night researching them when I was supposed to be sleeping and all day reading about BDSM when I was supposed to be working. I want to try it, and I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

    Don’t engage. Don’t engage. But I can’t help myself because she is beautiful in her fury. She’s beautiful all the time. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and never fucked. “Why?”

    “Because you’re there.” She twists the ring again, and her voice drops. “That means it has to be a good place, a safe place. I trust you.”

    I give a bitter laugh. “Trust me? You don’t know me. Until yesterday you thought I was someone else.”

    “We’re all someone else.” Her face tightens, and her voice takes on a pleading tone. “I felt something click when I walked into the club. I felt like I’d found something I didn’t know I was looking for. I need to explore it. Can’t you understand that?”

    Although I won’t admit it, I do understand because I felt the same way when I first walked into Club Sin. For years I’d thought there was something wrong with me because I got pleasure from other people’s pain. Only when I’d hit rock bottom did I start searching the Internet only to discover there were others like me and places where I could go to find people who wanted the pain I wanted to give. I met Damien in a chat room, and he invited me to his club. My life changed the minute I walked in the door. It clicked, just like Penny said.

    “All else aside,” I say, trying to rationalize it all away, “you have a conflict. You can’t be a member of a club you are trying to shut down.”

    Penny leans against her car, a bright-red Ford Mustang convertible that always makes me smile. She doesn’t often let her wild child free, but when she bought that car, she did it in style.

    “I thought about that, but because I signed all those documents before I served the papers, technically I was a member first, so I don’t think it would be a problem.”

    Christ. Does she have an answer for everything? I play my final card, although I feel like a bastard doing it. “There’s an application and a screening process, and I’ll tell you right now, you won’t make it through. I’ll make sure of it.”

    Penny jerks back as if I slapped her, and even I am shocked at the vehemence in my tone. But it’s bad enough she saw me at my worst, doing the one thing I crave and hating myself for it. I can’t stomach the thought of her seeing me at the club again or, worse, seeing her on the other end of the whip.

    “This is a free country, Jackson Caldwell.” Her body trembles, her eyes fiery in the night, her words touching my soul. “You can’t stop me…” She trails off, her anger fading beneath a puzzled frown. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

    “I’ve never heard you say my name.”