Free Look but Don't Touch by Cara Dee

 
Chapter 1
    Nicholas Ford
    Reentering my bedroom after taking a shower, I walk into my closet and pick out what to wear to the club tonight.
    I can hear Amanda in the kitchen, slamming cupboards and pulling out pans with way too much force. She has no reason to be upset, in my opinion. I told her countless times I would be unable to spend time with her family tonight, yet when today arrived, she thought I was "tactless" if I didn’t go with her.
    Personally, I don’t see the issue. I will meet her family tomorrow at her sister's wedding; she can go to the rehearsal dinner by herself. I'd go with her, obviously, if I hadn't had this event planned for months. Alas, I do, and Amanda has known for weeks. Whatever she is doing in the kitchen is just an attempt to gain attention, seein g as the rehearsal dinner is only an hour away. Less than that, even.
    It' s at times like these that I wonder if I really should have listened to my parents and sisters, because I'm miserable here. At the age of thirty-six, I'm supposed to have settled down, according to them. But it's not easy to find someone who both shares my desires and wants more beyond the fetish. So…I squashed it all down, hid parts of myself, and said yes when Amanda asked me out four months ago.
    She'd been at one of my six clubs in the Bay Area, and I'd had it with my mother's incessant talk about leaving bachelorhood behind. Little does she know that I was never really a bachelor. I've had my fair share of long-term relationships, though they were always about pleasure, not love.
    After zipping my jeans, I grab a white button-down and put it on. The two top buttons are left unbuttoned, and I forgo the tie. I don’t need a suit to ooze power. Had I been on my way to any of my other clubs—a more upscale place—perhaps I would've worn one, but not for Switch—my one BDSM club.
    O n a night like this, I need to feel comfortable too, which is kind of ironic. Since leaving that lifestyle behind, tonight's event will most definitely leave me uncomfortable .
    I suppose I'm a glutton for punishment, but I'm aching to at least watch. Sure, making an appearance is important; however, I can't deny that I want to be there. It's the only aspect of my old life I have left, and I find myself clinging to it desperately.
    Amanda knows about the club, though she has no clue I frequent the establishment, much less that I 've lived that life. To her, I'm simply an owner of multiple different-themed clubs who focuses solely on the money. If a BDSM club brings in a lot of it, I should have one. Well, let her think that. Let her also continue believing I will be at a different club tonight than Switch. It would only raise questions, not to mention she'd show her distaste for BDSM. She's shown it before. It's degrading, she says, proving how little she actually knows.
    A while later, I'm back in my bathroom. My dark hair is only a couple inches long, so there's nothing to do there. I run my fingers through it and mess it up a little. Leaning closer to the mirror, I inspect my freshly shaved face, and I can't help but grimace. To my dismay, my age is beginning to show. A few grey hairs at my temples. The corners of my bluish grey eyes crinkle a bit more than before when I smile. Though, I frown more than smile nowadays. My body may be in excellent condition, but that matters little when I'm barely content. I stand tall at 6'4", yet I feel hunched.
    Hopefully, I will be in good spirits after tonight. I just need a dose of what my past used to offer. That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway.
    Truth be told, I'm not a hundred percent sure I would trade what I have today for what I used to have, because I wasn’t particularly happy back then, either. In the past three years or so, something has been missing. There's nothing I want more than to settle down with someone I have a deeper connection with, and that’s what I'm trying to achieve with Amanda. She is a beautiful woman, same age