Illicit

Two hours later, complete with a throbbing ache at the base of my skull–and a matching ache between my legs–I left the Rabbit Hole, a stack of paperwork tucked into my purse that had nothing to do with employment.

Reed hadn’t touched me again since our kiss in that private room, but he’d remained close to me for the entirety of these past two hours, while we sat tucked away in a quiet corner of a smaller, quieter lounge area with softer music and brighter lighting than that of the main nightclub.

We shared a bottle of white wine as he went over every detail of the Rabbit Hole.

He explained what membership looked like, what it entailed. Discussed the process of how I would become a member, should I choose to do so.

Yes, please.

He also did not allow me to make that decision tonight, though I would have in a heartbeat.

As the night went on, he detailed what sponsorship would look like, and that I could not become a member of the Rabbit Hole without a sponsor or a direct invitation from Mina herself.

He answered questions that, to him, were probably tedious and ridiculous, but to me were necessary. I inquired about words I’d heard, things I’d read about, movies and books–what they’d gotten wrong and what they’d been right about–and he patiently explained everything he could.

When the clock struck midnight, he gathered up the paperwork spread out before us, tipped the wine bottle upside down into the ice bucket, and announced that we’d delved as far into the lifestyle as we were going to tonight.

Then offered to drive me home.

To my house, not his–consider me disappointed.

I could have kept at it all night, and not just because sitting beside him in that intimate booth provided me with an uninhibited view of Cabot Reed, but because I’d never been more ready to become a part of something in my entire life.

I wanted this life.

Craved it.

As he led me to the parking garage behind the building, he raised a keyfob in the air and clicked the button. Up ahead, the lights of a sleek black and orange car flashed. As we grew closer, I gave an appreciative whistle.

“You know about cars?” he asked.

“No. But I can appreciate pretty things.” I followed him to the passenger side of the sports car smiling as that familiar smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “What is it?” I looked for the little yellow emblem on the front but apparently it wasn’t a Ferrari.

And that was the extent of what I knew about fancy cars.

“Bugatti.”

He opened the door and I pointed to the stripe of orange that ran along the bottom of the body. “Why orange?” I side-eyed Reed. “Big fan of Halloween?”

His mouth dropped open, but he recovered quickly. “You don’t like orange.”

“It’s all right.” I slid into the seat. “I’m just more of a Christmas person.”

His lips twitched, but he shook his head and shut my door.

“Oh good Lord,” I practically moaned as soon as I was alone in the car.

Most cars smelled like new leather or old french fries.

Or the occasional air freshener, something overwhelming like Grandma’s Gardenia. I shuddered at the thought.

Cabot Reed’s car smelled like him.

Power.

Sex.

Danger.

I settled back into the leather seat, breathing him in.

He climbed in on the other side and I rolled my head to look at him. “You should bottle it.”

Eyebrows raised, he said, “What?”

“Your cologne. Your pheromones.” I waved my hand around the car, then toward him. “Whatever it is, bottle it up.”

Reed rolled his lips as he watched me. “And if I did, would you buy it?”

I snorted. “Oh yeah.”

He leaned toward me, resting his elbow on the center console. “And what would you do with this bottle of… Cabot Reed’s pheromones?” Why was it so damn sexy when he got that mocking tone in his voice?

I leaned toward him, bringing my lips within inches of his. “I’d spray it all over my sheets, Mr. Reed.”

That muscle in his jaw jumped.

I watched his throat bob as he swallowed, then I brought my eyes back up to his. “Then I’d roll in them.” I paused for effect. “Naked.”

His eyes tightened and he leaned forward.

I closed my eyes.

“Where are we headed?”

My eyes flicked open and he was back on his side of the car. I hadn’t even heard the engine start, but he was already guiding the Pumpkin King through the parking garage toward the exit.

“Hmm?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow without taking his eyes off the road. The Smirker was back.

“Park Slope,” I grumbled, glaring at the side of his head.

He ignored me. Super typical.

Hmph.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by the way Reed drove, maneuvering through the city streets at high speeds, weaving in and out of traffic like no one else existed on the road. It was so very like him to think he had the right of way even when he didn’t.

But his need for speed meant the drive was cut nearly in half.

Which meant my time with him was quickly coming to an end.

He kept his eyes on the road, only glancing at me when he needed to confirm a turn, which left me able to watch him without getting caught. Still, I tried to be as incognito as possible, stealing glances when he seemed too focused on the road to notice.

The air was thick with lust. His. Mine. Ours.

He was controlling the situation–shocker–but this thing between us was inevitable.

It was no longer a matter of if, but when.

Everything changed the moment we kissed.

Everything.

We’d been building toward it all week, but now that I’d tasted him, I needed more. And, now that we’d discussed the Rabbit Hole, and what becoming a member would entail, what his sponsorship would mean…

I wanted to be his.

I was his.

Yes, already.

Intoxicated by the power emanating off of him, I’d been his since the moment we met.

Learning more about the way he spent his nights didn’t scare me away from him, it made me want him more. Down in the Rabbit Hole, people belonged to their mates. They gave and took power freely, without judgment or harm. I was far past intrigued.

I’d never felt so pulled to anything in my entire twenty-four years.

Turning toward Reed slowly, I focused on his strong profile. “How long have you been, um…” I paused. This wasn’t a man who appreciated beating around the bush. I’d need to word my questions perfectly. Directness, that was the way to speak to Cabot Reed. “How long have you been dominant?”

His lips twitched but he didn’t smile, didn’t turn toward me. “ Left here?”

I glanced at the streets and nodded.

“I have been dominant for my entire life, Ms. Blake. What is your actual question?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re frustrating.”

“The same could be said about you.”

“How long have you been Master Creed?”

He made an amused sound low in his throat. “It could be argued that I have been that for my entire life as well.”

I huffed quietly and turned back toward the window. The desire to wipe that smirk off his stupid, perfect face was back with a vengeance.

God, he really was infuriating.

“Look at me.”

I did as I was told and was instantly locked in that dark gaze. His annoying smirk was slightly red from the glow of the stoplight.

“The word you are looking for is Dominant, Rylan. Noun, not verb, though both apply.” He licked his lips and my stomach tightened. “I have been an active Dom in the BDSM community for nearly two decades.”

I nodded slowly as his answer sunk in. Two decades ago I was four.

Okay, well then. Pushing that aside. “Is Stella your submissive?” The words were out of my mouth before I could think better of them. I chewed on my bottom lip, too late to take them back.

Reed slowed for another stoplight, but this time, he didn’t look at me. When the light turned green, he didn’t resume driving. A horn blared behind him, but he ignored it.

I almost laughed at how typical this behavior was, but then he pinned me with his gaze.

“Understand something going forward.” He paused and I nodded. “I am monogamous. If you decide to move forward… if you decide you want to be a part of this life.” His gaze flicked back and forth between my eyes.

Cars honked as they passed us.

“If you decide that you want to be mine, Rylan, it will only be you.”

I sucked in a ragged breath, floored by the power in those words and the power in his gaze.

“Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“I’d like you to begin giving me verbal confirmation.”

“Yes.” My throat was thick. Had he just asked me to be, like, in a relationship with him?

His eyes tightened. “You have something on your mind. Say it.”

“Did you just ask me to be your girlfriend?”

I didn’t miss the slight curl of his lip, but I’d address that later. “No, Rylan, I certainly did not.”

He turned his attention to the road again and resumed driving. Thank God the light was green again.

“I don’t do relationships. I don’t have girlfriends. You will never be seen with me outside of the club. Do you understand that?”

I swallowed hard. The way those words felt like a physical blow was hard to ignore. But I’d only known the man for five days; I couldn’t expect a wedding proposal.

“During the day, you are still the fall intern at Reed Publishing. We will work together, but nothing will change. If we spend our evenings together… this is something separate. Do you understand?”

“Yes?”

“What part is confusing?”