The Consequence (The Evolution of Sin 3)

“Okay, okay, before I get mushy and ruin my makeup, let us go get Pauly. He is just about to go into the office so you have good timing,” she said as she linked our arms and led us down the vaguely familiar hall to her husband’s office.

“I read about the whole affair thing in the paper this morning. Horrible stuff having your personal life displayed like that.” She wrinkled her nose at me. “Anyone who sees you two together though will no that it was no tawdry thing, don’t you worry, hon.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as we pulled up to the door and Terry knocked perfunctorily before leading us inside.

When we entered, Paulson was sitting behind his palatial desk talking on his Bluetooth and I had a déjà vu moment. He immediately hung up and glared at his wife.

“What is she doing here, Teresa?”

“Don’t Teresa me, Pauly. Giselle is our good friend,” she warned.

“A good friend who is dating a man that I am not certain I should trust at the moment.”

“Excuse me, Paulson, but Daniel Sinclair is not the kind of man to play games, especially when they would hinder more than help him. He is intelligent and fair, you know him well enough to know that as fact,” I said, my voice strong despite his glower.

When he didn’t respond, I squeezed Terry’s hand and let go in order to take the awkwardly large brown wrapped canvas out from under my other arm.

“I came here to remind you of his goodness but also to remind you that we are just as vulnerable to gossip as you, as evidenced by the article in the paper today about us. Sinclair and I live a BDSM life-style too. We understand and accept the sanctity of that kind of relationship, especially how easy it is to misconstrue. I’m sorry that happened to you, Paulson, but if I may, I have some advice. People know your secret now, the only thing you can do is hold your head high and own it, otherwise people will always judge you and do it easily because you let them shame you.”

I waited a beat for my words to sink in before I placed the canvas before me and ripped off the front of the paper. “This is my gift to you, regardless of how you choose to proceed with Sinclair.”

They both stared at the large-scale painting I had revealed to them. There were no faces, only the broad chest of a man sitting behind his kingly desk, his legs spread beneath it to accommodate the woman on her knees under the desk, her pert ass balanced on the knife-like edge of her high heels.

It was a subtle rending of a bold power exchange. There was dominance and affection in the hand that lay on the women’s shining dark curls and power in her submission as she serviced him, knowing she was giving him pleasure.

I loved it. It was one of my favorite paintings in my collection but I wanted them to have it.

Finally, Terry cleared her throat and looked up at me with shining eyes. “I always admired your work, knew you were freaking talented, lady, but this is beyond perfection. I couldn’t love or appreciate it more.”

I smiled slightly but my eyes moved to Paulson when he cleared his throat.

“You understand that there is grace in such a thing,” he said gruffly. “Beauty in it, even though I’m not a man who gets beauty much, ’less it’s Teresa. This is a gift of beauty, and I will honor it, Giselle, just as I will honor my deal with your man.”

Relief passed through me, making me shudder from the surreal thrill of it.

“Thank you,” I breathed out.

“Thank you,” Paulson boomed in his usual radio announcer voice. “Now, should we call that man and get him over here to share a celebratory drink?”

“We should,” I said as Terry jumped up and down clapping.

When Sinclair arrived, I was sitting on a gold brocade couch with Terry drinking sparkling apple juice while she had champagne. Paulson sat straight but oddly comfortable in an antique wooden chair that looked like something from a torture chamber.

Sin came immediately to me, lifted me into the air and planted a deep, long, wet kiss on my lips. By the time he pulled away, my legs were wrapped around his waist and both of my hands were twisted in his hair.

“Hi,” I breathed against his mouth.

His hands flexed on my bottom. “I love you so much. You have evolved into such a beautiful fierce woman, Elle. Exactly like a swan.”

I blushed like crazy under the praise and butted my forehead lightly against his. “I can be fierce for you.”

“Evidently,” he chuckled.

“Care for a drink, Sinclair?” Paulson asked, his voice tinged with humor.

Sinclair pressed one more kiss to my lips before he swung around to sit on the couch beside Terry with me in his lap. “That sounds about right, Paulson. I’ll have what you’re having. We seem to have similar tastes.”