The Secret (Winslow Brothers 3)

She snorts. “Oh yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.”

“Now, Rach, are you ready for your challenge?”

“If you’re going to tell me we’re fucking in the dildo aisle, I’m leaving.”

I laugh. Outright. “That is not the challenge. Though, you pose an interesting premise.”

“Ty.”

“Fine. Okay.” I hold up both hands. “Your challenge… Walk around this store and look at all the inventory until you find one thing, one special, exciting, wild thing that you want to try but have never done.”

“Try? As in, this week? With you?”

“It is our week of not-being-good, right?”

“Right.” She grins, and I can’t stop myself from stepping forward to press a kiss to her lips.

“Let the challenge begin.”

She turns on her heel, but a second later, she turns back around and meets my eyes. “Wait… Are there any restrictions?”

I shake my head. “The only rule is that you have to pick something that makes you excited to try.”

She taps her chin and squints toward me. “And if I want to try putting nipple clamps on you? That counts?”

“If it makes you excited to think about, yes.”

“Damn, you didn’t even blink before you answered,” she muses on a laugh. “You’d actually let me put nipple clamps on you?”

“Doll, if it’s something that will give you pleasure, I’m open to it. Always.”

Truthfully, this challenge isn’t really about sex or pleasure. Though, it’s certainly a bonus. It’s about Rachel getting to make a choice. For herself and only herself.

Why do I think she needs this? I don’t really know; it’s just something I felt when we were standing inside the bookstore. She’s a woman who is carrying the weight of the world in expectations. Some are self-inflicted, but a lot are not ones she’s chosen.

And right now, she needs to feel in control. Empowered to make her own decision without my or anyone else’s involvement.

She searches my eyes for a long moment, for what, I’m not sure, but eventually, she turns on her heel again. Only this time, she starts her perusal of the store.

Obviously, I’m silently hoping she doesn’t decide on a pair of goddamn nipple clamps for me, but yeah, I don’t get a say in the matter.

And if she does come back with nipple clamps for my chest? Well then, looks like I might need to buy a little Vaseline on our way back to the hotel.

Rachel spent an hour inside Secret Pleasures, searching through the shelves of all things sex-focused. And I gave her the time and space to make her choice. Instead of following behind her, I simply handed the nice young lady at the register my credit card and let her know I’d be outside and to use that to pay for whatever Rachel chose.

By the time she made her way out into the sun, a discreet, little black bag was clutched between her fingers and a contagious smile was on her lips.

“So, when do I get to show you what I bought?” she asks when we’re about three blocks away from the hotel.

I wink at her. “When I tell you it’s time.”

“So, like, when we get back to the hotel?” she questions, swinging the black bag at her hip and leaning forward to meet my eyes as our feet move down the sidewalk and take a right onto the street that leads to the Carlyle.

I shrug. “Not necessarily.”

“Is this happening this week?”

“Yes.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders, tucking her close to my side, and carefully move her out of the way of a man walking a mile a minute and staring down at his feet.

“Today?”

I shrug again. “Maybe?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Maybe?”

“What the hell?” she blurts out on an exasperated laugh.

I love that she’s excited to use whatever is inside that bag, but I also know that when you have to wait, when you have to let that excitement grow, it makes it even better.

“It’s all about anticipation, doll.”

I can’t say when we’re going to open that bag, but I know, when the moment is there, Rachel is going to experience something she’s never done before.

I can’t fucking wait.

Friday, March 8th

Rachel

I step off the elevator with fresh coffee and bagels from a little shop up the street from the Carlyle and head down the carpeted hallway toward our hotel suite.

Once I’m inside, I can hear the faint sounds of a news station playing on the television. And when I make my way into the main room, I find Ty sitting on the couch, his fingers tapping across the screen of his phone.

“Well, good morning,” I greet him and carry our breakfast over to the marble coffee table.

He meets my eyes and smiles a sleepy, sexy smile. “I was wondering where you went.”

“I figured we’d go for a lighter breakfast this morning.”

He chuckles at that. “I was wondering when you’d get worn out on waffles.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I roll my eyes and hand him his black coffee. “I will never get tired of this hotel’s waffles.”