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in their amusement; his only focus now was experiencing that rich hunger to claim her submission.

Chapter Four
    On Friday evening, happiness rushed through Presley, since she was back in Vegas; not that her three-day visit with her parents hadn’t been great, but Vegas had become home. She gazed through the window at the Las Vegas Strip as hordes of tourists passed by the glass window of Scores sports bar. She chuckled at their doe eyes while they took in the sights, knowing she probably looked the same four months ago.
    Now she had other concerns, including the fact that tonight was the night she would get up close and personal with BDSM. She’d gone to Dr. Schmidt’s office straight from the bus station—the envelope of her clear test results in her purse—and once she got home, Cora had dragged her back out to celebrate tonight.
    “What’s your pleasure, miss?” a masculine voice said.
    Turning away from the window, Presley spotted the bartender with the cute smile and regretted the ability to drink herself stupid. Tonight would be much easier if she were shit-faced, but Club Sin had an alcohol ban. Submissives needed to act on their own accord, not be driven by alcohol, or so Cora had told her. “Two Cokes, please.”
    “Comin’ right up.”
    As the barkeep fetched the drinks, Presley noticed that the man next to her on the stool reeked of whiskey. Maybe no drinking was a good thing. Nothing would be sexy if she smelled like that. She wanted to pour on the sexy tonight, or at least try to, with her best imitation.
    “Presley.”
    Her stomach dropped at that voice. She peeked sideways to find brown eyes surrounded by thick eyebrows, a thin face with spiked sandy-colored hair, and even the charmed smile that once captivated her.
    Why hadn’t she thought he’d be here?
    As a couple, they’d hung out every Friday night at this sports bar, which had been exactly why she’d avoided it for the last three months, until Cora had forced her to come tonight. Drawing in a deep breath for bravery, she said, “Hi, Steven.”
    Her high school sweetheart leaned up against the bar in front of her. The cologne he wore now smelled too strong, tickling her nose. Even his voice didn’t hold the same sweet edge she remembered. “How are you?”
    The last time she’d seen this face was when she’d packed her bags and moved out of their apartment. Eight years she’d spent with this man, sharing a life and dreams of a future. Five months ago, he had moved to Vegas because of a promotion with the software company that employed him, and a month after he put a ring on her finger, she’d followed. I can’t live without you. The long-distance relationship isn’t working. Come to Vegas with me. Be my wife, he’d said when he proposed. Three months ago, she’d thrown the ring in his face and left him. May Sin City swallow you whole! “Doing just fine, thanks,” she said.
    “How’s work?” He smiled. “Your family?”
    “Both are good.” She swallowed her disgust as she watched Steven take a big gulp of his beer. She hated the sight of the lips she once kissed. “How about you?”
    “Lots of overtime, but the money is good.” Spinning the bottle in his hand on the bar, he continued to give her a charismatic smile. “Why haven’t you been around?”
    Oh, I’ve been getting my documents together so I can watch men and women be flogged, whipped, and have sex in a dungeon. “Been busy.” To dig at him, she added, “I’m actually dating someone.” A total lie, of course. The Dom who trained her—Cora had explained that she’d be assigned to one—wouldn’t look to her as girlfriend material. But Steven didn’t have to know that, and the lie poured deliciously off her tongue, making her feel better and showing him she was desirable.
    His eyes widened, incredulous. “You have a boyfriend?”
    I’ll have a Dom. “Yeah, it’s new.”
    The bartender brought over the Cokes, and Presley picked up the glasses,