Sweet Submission Page 3

fucking supermodel, right down to that bored, ice-queen stare.

  The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and the most unattainable. The one who’s haunted my most private fantasies ever since we met.

  Isabelle Ashcroft.

  Dax follows my gaze. He whistles. “She’s new. I’d remember that face. And that ass.”

  “I know her,” I growl, suddenly tense even though I’m invisible to anyone on the other side of the glass. And even if she saw me, I doubt she’d remember my name. The few times we met in passing at the office, she made it clear: I’m insignificant.

  Only in my dreams does she moan my name and gasp for my total control. Her thighs open, her luscious wet mouth wrapped eagerly around my cock.

  Following my every command. Surrendering to who she really is in the bliss of my domination.

  My gaze goes to the men with her, and now my bad mood only gets worse. She’s still hanging around that asshole Brent, trailing behind a paunchy, sneering guy.

  Of all the places for her to show up. The irony is, I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on her. My new boss, Keely, wanted me to check up and make sure Isabelle was doing OK after her father’s death. As far as I could tell, she’s fine. Still swanning around New York in her designer outfits, still treating everyone like they’re beneath her.

  But the look on her face as she follows Brent to the hallway doesn’t look fine.

  “Come on, I see a couple of VIPs I need to show around.” Dax rises, blocking my view. He gets important people in here all the time. Celebrities, politicians, executives like me—all drawn to the exclusive anonymity of the club.

  I finish my drink and stand.

  “I mean it, though,” Dax adds, as we’re heading for the door. “A new scene every night... it’s not enough for you, Cam. You need something real.”

  I smile and nod, but he couldn’t be more wrong. The desires I indulge here are real. Sometimes they feel more real than any other part of me, a dark craving that threatens to take over everything.

  I keep it locked away here. Safe. Controlled.

  It’s the only way.