Dirty Addiction (Dirty 2)

“Food or sex first?” she asks.

I smirk. “I forgot one final rule. You want BDSM, right? You want me to tie you up, spank you, whip you—the whole package, right?”

She nods, her mouth open and panting.

“Then, you have to give up control. You do exactly what I say, when I say it. You don’t get to say no to anything. You just do without thinking. If it’s too much, you tell me red to stop. Otherwise, you don’t think for the rest of the week.”

“Exactly.”

My inner demon comes out the second she says that. She just gave me complete control over her body. And I plan on taking advantage of having that control.

“Excuse me,” one of the waiters says.

I exhale deeply. I’m pretty sure steam blows out of my ears from my pent-up anger with Bayron, but it is now getting directed at this new man who I won’t let cockblock me. Not now that I finally get her with no strings attached.

Skye gives the man an equally perturbed look. “What?” she snaps.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt you, but the captain’s cat we think is having a seizure or something. We can either turn back or you can—”

Skye sighs, getting up from the table, looking me dead in the eye. Then, she breaks her own rule, telling me something about herself. “I’ll take a look at the cat.”

3

Skye

Damn it!

All I wanted to do was have some filthy, dirty, mind-blowing sex with a hot stranger who wants the same thing that I do. How hard is that to get? Between Bayron forcing me into this date and now the captain’s cat, I’m not sure if I will ever get what I want.

I quickly follow the waiter back to the captain’s quarters where they have the cat lying on a bed. I try not to think about how many rules I’m breaking by showing Brody that I’m a vet. I just want to take care of the cat and then get back to the part where Brody fucks me. The cat is probably fine anyway.

But, when I put my hands on the cat, I know that the cat isn’t fine. He needs help. Immediately.

“Get me the first aid kit. Now,” I say calmly, looking at the waiter.

“Is he going to be okay?” the captain asks.

“I need you to get me towels, his food, and favorite toys. Understand?”

He nods.

“Go,” I say sternly, just trying to get him out of the room, so I can do what I need to do. I don’t need any of the things I just asked him to get.

The waiter returns with the first aid kit and puts it on the bed. The cat isn’t breathing. I quickly look in his mouth to see if anything is obstructing his airflow. I can’t see anything, but most likely, there is something, and I just can’t see it. If he was having a seizure before, he might have thrown something up that is now lodged in his throat.

I start performing CPR, but air isn’t getting into his lungs like I expected.

“Are you squeamish?” I ask the waiter as I throw open the first aid kit, hoping it has everything I need.

“Yes.”

“Then, get out.”

It has a scalpel and gauze. “I need a straw,” I say, glancing around the room.

“Here,” Brody says, handing me a straw as he kneels down next to me on the bed.

I give him a wide-eyed stare. I don’t have time to ask how or where he found it.