Page 20 of Sunrise (Monarch Club #3)

Sophie

Knox always says and does the right thing.

I felt a little guilty about showing up at Midnight Run tonight, but with how my week has been, I needed to have the stress fucked out of me.

I happen to be a quite simple woman in the bedroom.

Know how to use your tools right, and I’ll come.

Knox knows how to use every part of his body for my maximum pleasure.

I swear it’s a natural born talent of his. He can make me come effortlessly.

I love that for me.

Not getting attached to my subs is a rule of mine. I’ve definitely broken it with him. But can you blame me? Knox is perfect. Smart, funny, cooks like a Michelin-starred chef, and fucks like a top-tier porn star. Tall, built, and tatted, too. The man gives me pussy flutters any time I think of him.

And if Knox is fire, then Vault is ice.

Deep, unwavering beauty that locks you in a protective hold and claims you down to the bone. Always calm, cool, and collected, he rarely shows emotion, but you feel what he feels, regardless. It’s not easy to shake off.

I wish I knew the precise moment I fell in love with them.

It’s a lot like a gravitational pull, where they slowly landed in my heart.

Watching them finding their way back to each other is a beautiful thing.

Taking part in their healing is a gift I’ll forever be grateful for.

But last weekend knocked my Domme side off kilter.

I’ve yet to reflect on how big a mistake I might have made by taking on Vault and Knox at the same time like this.

It’s not that I can’t handle it, it’s that if I’m ever forced to walk away from them, I don’t know what that will look like for me.

It’s caused me to question a lot of things lately and Ryker asking where I belong the other night has been pounding in my head ever since.

I belong at the Monarch Club.

But what does that mean? What does that look like moving forward?

Knox and Vault share me now because we have an arrangement. Rules and boundaries. This is a healing process for the two of them that I’m only privileged to be a part of. Once they’re back together, our arrangements will end, and I’ll lose them both.

The last thing I want to do is muddy the waters by adding my personal feelings to their already precarious situation.

This isn’t about me. Never has been. From the moment Vault asked me to help him, to the night Knox found out we were fucking, I have only been a conduit.

It’s time to face the reality that this is all I’ll ever be.

“What if they love you back?” A small voice in my over-active brain whispers.

“What if they don’t?” I mentally whisper back .

I’m too afraid to find out which it is. The emotional roller coaster is draining me. Add in my own lies and secrets… well…

What time is it? Shit, I should be at the Monarch already, but can’t summon the will. Work kicked my ass this week, especially when I had to tell my amazing team the devastating news of the project going to shit, and evenings at the club have sucked up the rest of my energy.

I need a fucking break.

Sophie : I’m not coming in tonight.

Ryker : Are you okay?

Sophie : Yeah, just exhausted.

Guilt gnaws at me like always. I have members to meet and lessons to teach.

With the reputation and clientele I’ve built at the club, I make more money there than I do at my regular job.

I’m coming to a crossroads of some kind and will have to choose which direction to proceed in.

Living the way I currently am is not sustainable.

Once I get home and shower, I feel slightly better.

It’s almost midnight now. My house is so quiet you can hear a pin drop.

The neighborhood is asleep, and the crickets are chirping.

It’s so peaceful, I almost feel safe. Dressed in my favorite oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, I pour a glass of wine and sit out on my back patio to decompress.

It feels wrong to be here. Selfish, even. Monarch members are expecting me and I’m letting them down.

What am I even doing anymore?

Rubbing my temples does little to ease my brewing headache. My eyes itch and burn. I’m melting down, big time. Pulling out my cell, I text Vault.

Sophie : Not coming in tonight.

He’ll worry if he doesn’t see me soon. Sometimes I think we’re two ghosts haunting that place, only he stays hidden all the time and I don’t .

Vault : What’s wrong?

Sophie : Nothing. Just tired.

He must be too. The man lives off energy drinks and forty minutes of sleep.

I don’t know how he hasn’t keeled over by now.

And there’s this stupid egotistical part of me that wonders if he’s there all the time because I’m there all the time.

That’s silly, right? But he practically lives at the club, and it didn’t use to be that way.

I know he keeps cameras on me all the time. Hell, sometimes I perform better imagining he’s watching. Great, now I feel bad that I’m not there because what if that’s the only reason he’s working tonight?

Knock it off, Soph. It’s not that deep .

He doesn’t respond again, so I guess that’s the end of our communication.

Time for bed.

I diligently double check to make sure everything is locked up tight.

This may be a low crime area, but my brain is trained to be extra cautious.

Peeking out the front window, I see someone jogging across the street in a light-up vest. Closing the blinds and curtains, I finally head up to my room and lock that door, too.

I never feel safe.

That’s the one thing from my before that stuck with me after .

If I’m not surrounded by people, I scare easily.

For me, there is no safer place than the Monarch Club.

Not only is it under heavy surveillance, but the guys in charge would kill for me.

Probably. Maybe. Either way, they’d do more than what the security officer at my day job would do.

Fuck, my eyes burn. And I can’t get comfortable. Why won’t my pillow conform to my head right? And what’s with this blanket?

My cell rings.

Snagging the damn thing, I answer without looking at the caller ID. “This better be good, because it’s in the middle of the fucking night.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

I freeze at Vault’s voice. He’s never asked to come to my house before. Why now?

“You’re at work,” I remind him.

“It’s a relatively quiet night and we have plenty of staff on hand as it is. They don’t need me.”

Ryker recently hired more security so Dmitri could spend quality time with his girl, Daelyn.

“Do you want me to come over?” he repeats.

If I let him in, it’s another violation of my rules. No subs are allowed at my house. Ever . But Vault’s more than a sub. He’s…

“If you want,” I answer.

“That’s not what I asked,” he practically growls in frustration. “Do you want me to come over?”

Maybe he’s in a bad way and needs me to comfort him but is afraid to say so. I don’t think I have the mental bandwidth to help him tonight. I’m truly exhausted and everything feels wrong and upside down. For no good goddamn reason, tears prick my eyes, making them burn more.

“Yes.”

“I’m on my way.” He hangs up.

Oh my god, what am I doing? First, I bombard Knox at his club tonight, and now this ? I better get my shit together. Vault coming to my house is a bad idea. I should call him back and say never mind.

But I don’t .

Just knowing he’s on his way calms my nervous system. Lying in bed, I listen and wait for him to show up. It takes precisely twenty-seven minutes. His bike hums down my street and purrs as he pulls into the driveway.

Blowing out a relieved breath, I unlock the front door and let him in before he knocks.

“Hey,” he says in the quietest voice ever.

“Hi.”

I shut the door and lock all three bolts again.

He looks around, and I don’t explain my three locks. Or the alarm system. Or why all my curtains are drawn and blinds are closed.

He doesn’t ask.

“Come on.” Vault grabs my hand. “Show me your room.”

I hope he doesn’t think we’re fucking. I’ll just lie there like a doll if we do, and he won’t want that. He doesn’t deal well with lifelessness and disengagement.

Leading the way, I take him upstairs.

“Get in bed,” he orders softly. He starts unbuckling his belt. When I don’t do as he commands, he raises a brow. “I’m not here to fuck you. I just can’t sleep with this thing on. Get in bed, Sophie.”

Not Mistress. Sophie .

Guilt gut punches me when he says my name, in my house, in my bedroom. Swallowing my secrets, I crawl under the covers and don’t face him. I’m scared he’ll see that something’s very wrong with me. He must have sensed it if he came here and there’s no way I’m willing to open up about it.

The mattress dips when he sits. I hear him take off his boots .

Sighing heavily, he lays in bed with me, over the covers.

My heart’s pounding.

At the club, I’m Mistress. You don’t step out of line or there are consequences. But in my house… I’m not a strong woman. I’m a hiding mouse.

God, I thought I was better than this. I was better than this. Why have I regressed?

A tear slips and I quickly dab it with the edge of my blanket.

“Do you want me to hold you?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

Vault spoons me and my body relaxes once it’s caged by him. My ears ring from the silence screaming between us.

“Sleep, baby.” He kisses my temple and holds me tighter. “I got you.”

Exhaling, I shut my eyes and finally drift off.

When I wake up, he’s making subtle noises in my kitchen.

“Sorry,” he says, when I slink bleary-eyed downstairs and climb onto a barstool. “Did I wake you? I tried to be quiet.”

“No, the beeping car woke me.” My shirt hangs off one shoulder and my hair is a rat’s nest. “I don’t think I’ve slept that hard in a while.” Scrubbing my face, I yawn. “My head is pounding.”

“Here.” He slides over a mug of coffee. “Not as good as Dmitri makes, but caffeine is caffeine.”

Dmitri does make the best coffee. I have no clue how he does it, but it’s always incredibly rich and smooth. Vault’s is pretty good too. “Mmm, thank you.”

“I made scrambled eggs and avocado toast.” He scratches his head, looking a little awkward. “If Knox was here, he’d have a whole ass spread, but I’m a shit cook, so…”

“It’s perfect.” I take the plate, genuinely grateful that he’s done this. “You take good care of me, Vault.”

He doesn’t look at me. “I uh...” The man starts wiping down my already very clean counter. “I… have something for you.”

The mug almost slips out of my hand when he rests a small black box on the counter, next to the avocado toast.

I do not accept gifts from my subs.

“What is it?”

“Open it and find out.” He hides his lopsided smile behind his coffee cup.

My mouth opens to reject whatever this is, but the words don’t come out. He’s been trying so hard lately to “not be a robot” and is finally starting to show his emotions. If I shoot down whatever might be in this box, it could derail his progress.

Do not take gifts from subs.

Do not bring them to your house.

Do not fall in love with them.

I’m breaking so many of my cardinal rules.

But this is Vault , I argue with myself. I trust him.

Holding my breath, I open it, nearly choking on the emotions that cram in my throat when I lift the lid. It’s a small gold chain with a sun pendant. Simple and sweet.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He cautiously walks around my breakfast bar and kisses my temple.

“Will you help me put it on?”

“Absolutely. ”

He pulls the necklace out and messes with the clasp. I gather my hair for him and move it out of the way. The chain is delicate. I barely notice it on my neck, which is nice. I don’t wear a lot of jewelry because it always eventually annoys me.

He steps back to admire me. “Looks good, Sunrise.”

“One day,” I flash him a sleepy smile, “you’re going to have to tell me what sunrise means.”

He strokes my cheek, his expression changing from happy to sad. “No, baby. That’s one thing I hope I never have to do.”