He’d only been at her place once before, when he’d put her through her paces to determine her suitability to attend the Masters Club party. He looked around the small living space.
He walked over to the pile of medical journals next to the old leather recliner, curious which ones she subscribed to. It was then he noticed the paperback atop the pile. As he stepped closer, he saw there was no writing on the glossy red back cover.
Curious, he picked up the book and turned it over. Dark Confessions: Memoirs of an erotic slave was embossed in a black font that resembled the keystrokes of an old-fashioned manual typewriter. The author was listed only as slave m.
“What have we here?” he murmured, raising his brows. The book was clearly much-read, its spine broken, many of the pages dog-eared. As he took it into his hands, it fell open to a passage that read:
The corset is so tight I can barely breathe. My knees ache against the hard bathroom tile. My hands are loosely bound in front of me with a length of chain clipped between my wrist cuffs. Master’s boots enter my line of vision. Heart jumping in my chest, I scoot forward on my knees, and lower my head to kiss the shiny leather.
He grips me by the hair, using it to haul me upright. I totter on my stilettos. He steadies me by gripping me by the throat. With his other hand, he slaps my face. “Did you clean the toilet properly this time, slave m.?”
“Yes, Master,” I gasp, my cheek stinging from the blow.
“I didn’t realize how hungry—oh!”
Hayden looked up from the book to see Dahlia standing before him. She was wearing a blue cashmere sweater over jeans, her damp blond hair tucked behind her ears, her feet bare. Color splashed over her cheeks as she stared at the book in his hands.
“Interesting reading,” he offered with a sardonic smile.
She grabbed the book from his hand and hid it behind her back. “That’s private,” she blurted. Her color deepening, she stammered, “I mean, it’s…it’s just something I found one time, ages ago. I was going through some boxes in my closet the other night and just happened to come across it. I don’t even know why I still have it.” She tossed the book behind the stack of journals, her laugh forced.
Before he could probe deeper, she turned abruptly away.
He decided not to press the issue. Her overreaction was fascinating, given her awareness of his immersion in the lifestyle. Of all people, he was the last to judge what turned someone else on. And, in fact, the little he had read, while rather harsh, wasn’t without its appeal. Nevertheless, he had bigger issues to tackle. He would follow her lead and leave that novel alone—for now.
He poured the wine as she put slices of pizza on the plates.
“Wow,” she enthused after taking a bite. “This is really good. The mushrooms and onions are so fresh. Where’d you get it?” She lifted her glass and took a gulp of the wine. “This is good too. Cabernet is my favorite red.”
“I got the pizza from that Italian deli just down the block from you—Gino’s, I think it was called.” He shrugged. “The wine is one of my favorites.” He placed his hand lightly on her arm. “We need to talk.”
She stilled, her big hazel eyes meeting his. “Uh oh,” she said. “That sounds ominous.”
“Not at all. The opposite, in fact.” He decided to address his concerns head-on. “Here’s the thing. I know we’re still new, but BDSM relationships often have a way of moving at hyper-speed, especially when the connection is as strong as ours. I thought everything was going great between us, but now, I don’t know… I don’t know if it’s a coincidence or something they might have said, but ever since you got together with Jess and Cleo, you’ve been…distant. I get the feeling you’ve been avoiding me and I don’t know why. Is there something you want to talk about? Did something happen?”
Dahlia gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “You sure cut to the chase.”
He shrugged. “I believe in being direct.”
Her smile fell away. “I’m sorry. It’s just…yeah. I guess I have maybe been avoiding you a little bit, but it’s not because of anything you did wrong. I guess I’m still trying to figure out where I fit in in this whole BDSM lifestyle thing. I know you’re heavily into it, and yeah, talking with Cleo and Jess gave me a better understanding of just how involved you are at that club of yours.”
She looked away, and then looked back again, meeting his gaze. “I’m afraid, if you want to know the truth. Afraid I might end up falling in love with a guy whose world I can’t really see myself fitting into.”