by Emily Snow
“I'm a fan of condoms, love. As you're very well aware. Although, there was that moment with you… Being inside of you, bare, was incredible. Something I’d like to repeat tonight, if you’re willing.”
I'm seconds away from voicing my thoughts—from telling him how good he felt the night in his foyer where he hadn’t even removed my clothing before we tore each other apart—but then I see a flash of red hair coming our way.
I draw in a breath through clenched teeth, my eyes cutting to Sonora as she parks her ass on the armrest closest to Jace. She tosses her hair over one shoulder and smiles down at us. I notice that she's no longer wearing her sling and that she's also somewhat dressed tonight, wearing a black corset that makes her breasts look like they are seconds from tumbling out. Sonora is beautiful—beautiful and the type of woman I see Jace with when I close my eyes. My stomach hardens at the thought of him being with her.
At the thought of him going back to this—for the thrill of it.
“Enjoying the party, Ms. Williams?” she asks politely. I tell her that I am, and she grants me an amused look. “It’s no fun yet, but I’m expecting it’ll liven up here in a few minutes, right Jace?”
He grants her a slight smile and a nod, and painful flames shoot through my chest.
“I'm glad to see your arm is better,” I say cheerily, changing the subject to something that doesn’t turn me into a jealous mess.
She traces her fingertips over her wrist and lifts her shoulders. Her breasts squish together. I hold my breath, just waiting for them to fall out of her corset, but they stay firmly in place. “It’s not fully healed, but a little pain never hurt anyone.”
“I broke my collarbone once,” I blurt out stupidly. Her lips quiver, and she covers her mouth with rose-painted fingernails. Out of the corner of my eye, I sneak a glance at Jace—to see if he’s looking at her fingers since he’s used her hands for his photos so often in the past—but his gaze is focused on the side of my face. Flushing, I meet Sonora’s big blue eyes. “I fell off a swing … when I was eight.”
Oh god, I need to shut up and fast.
“That kind of pain does hurt, sweetheart—but I’m talking about something different,” she says then lowers her attention to Jace. “Will you be staying tonight, E?”
I hate that there’s another wiggle of jealousy that goes through me when she asks him this, but I'm quickly placated when he shakes his head. “You know I don’t stay anymore, but I have alternate plans. I promise you won’t miss me.” She gives him a longing look, but he fails to notice it as he stands and looks down at me. “I have to run to the bathroom, love, but I'll be back shortly. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands with Sonora.”
Before I have time to protest, he strides away, and I turn to the redhead half expecting her claws to come out. That doesn't happen. She drums her fingertips on her bare thighs and inclines her head to the side. “You can relax,” she says softly. “I'm not the type of woman to attack another just because she has something that I desire.”
“I—” I begin, but the lump in the back of my throat prevents me from speaking.
She holds up her long, delicate fingers and shakes her head. “You don’t have to defend yourself, Lucy. As long as Jace is happy, I don't mind you. At the end of the day, that’s all I want for him. He's my friend, and he deserves that after everything he’s been through. He’s never committed to a woman like this before. I like that he is now.”
When I simply blink at her like an idiot, she laughs softly. “What?”
“You, you're just nice.” I don’t tell her that I don’t think Jace is committed or that my heart constricts at the idea of him telling me he wants more. “I didn't expect that from you.”
“Looks and predilections can be deceiving.” She eyeballs a good-looking man across the room and slides off the armrest. “Take care, Miss Williams.”
She begins to walk away, but my question stops her in her tracks. “Why do you come to these parties, Sonora?” She turns to face me, running her palms over the front of her corset.
“Why? Are you judging me?” she demands.
“No.” I shake my head because it’s the truth. I’ve spent five minutes with this woman, and she’s been kinder to me than most of my prim and proper friends back in San Francisco. I’m grateful for that. Grateful for what she’s said to me tonight. “I’m just curious.”
“I do this because I need this in my life. It might not make sense to you or anyone else, but it's what makes me feel alive.”
“Just because I don't understand it doesn't make it wrong,” I say, surprising myself. A tiny smile forms on her face.
“Thank you.” When Jace returns a few seconds later, I let him know I'm ready for another drink. “I thought you said you couldn’t handle your liquor,” he teases.
“Not usually, but I might just need it by the time B shows off his table and we get out of here.”
By the time Mr. B makes his grand appearance downstairs thirty minutes later, I’m regretting that third shot of tequila. The liquor has gone straight to my head, but luckily, I can still stand upright when we step behind the glass on the other side of the voyeur room. Noticing the naked woman standing a few feet away from us, her gaze wandering over the massive table in the other room, I revise my thoughts about the tequila.
I definitely needed it.
Although several of his guests are in the other rooms, Mr. B’s new table has attracted at least ten other people. Of course, they might all be more interested in using said table rather than watching it in use. As Mr. B praises Jace’s work, I sneak off to the side and pull my phone out of my strapless bra, checking to make sure my mother hasn't messaged me. I have one text, but it's from Jamie.
11:13 PM: The suspense is KILLING ME. How’s it going? Is the hot guy from Jace’s workshop getting his rocks off in that Louis XIV room again? You. Are. Killing. Me.
“You’re crazy, friend,” I mutter under my breath. I snap a quick picture of myself with one eyebrow raised and my lips twisted to the side. Typing a condensed version of our conversation from the pancake restaurant from a couple of months ago—Cages and butt plugs and metal tables, oh my—I send both to her in a private message on Snapchat. I slide my phone back inside of my bra and rejoin Jace.
He lifts a black tendril off my shoulder, sliding it between his fingertips. “Unless you want to watch the table in action, we can leave now.” I don't jump to respond to him— my brain is fuzzy from the tequila and from his touch—so he takes that as an invitation. “My sweet, beautiful Lucy,” he growls. “Am I making a freak out of you?”
I shake my head, but Jace is still skeptical because he purses his lips. “I just want to go home with you tonight.”
His stormy blue eyes darken with desire that pulsates into my body. He squeezes my ass and draws me close to him, knocking the wind out of my lungs. “Good. Let’s get out of here before I lose my patience and take you here.”
As we quietly make our departure, the first willing and ready participant is being strapped to the table he created.
TWENTY-SEVEN
LUCY
“Do you ever miss it?” I ask Jace, my voice a faint whisper as he motions for me to put my hands above my head. I do so without protest, shivering when the cold metal cuffs clasp around my wrists. “The parties, I mean.”
He latches the cuffs to one of the hooks on his bedpost then traces his hands down my naked body. I arch against him, my body curving into his mouth when he drops his dark head to my nipple. “No,” he breathes, and goose bumps race across my skin as his warm breath glides over my body. “Not at all.”
“Do you ever think about going—” I gasp when his hand squeezes between my thighs and he circles his palm around my clit. He’s relentless, rough, and my body sings beneath his touch. “Do you…”
Moving his other hand and mouth to my throat, he lets out a rough growl. “I’m happy right where I am.”
“With me?”
“With
you,” he confirms, making my heart flutter. “Now, love, if you mention one of those parties again while I’m trying to make you come, I’ll make sure you won’t get an ounce of sleep.”
I promise that I won’t, promise that I’ll simply enjoy, so he moves down my body again. His hand never leaves my sex as his tongue circles each of my nipples, then my belly button, causing me to suck in my stomach. When he lowers to his knees in front of me, spreading my legs so far apart that I’m sure I would fall if it weren’t for my bound hands, he grins up at me. “You’re perfect, love. Everything I was searching for when I…”
He trails off, but I still bob my head. In understanding. In pleasure.
Sliding his hand from the juncture of my thighs, he replaces his fingers with his tongue, sucking and teasing until my moans become music around us. When I feel cold, smooth metal rubbing against my clit, I cast hooded eyes down to watch him as he rubs a small bullet along my flesh.
I nearly come undone when he draws away, touching the stainless steel to the tip of his tongue. It’s smaller than most of the toys I’ve seen in the shop, a work of art with intricate petals at the base. When I realize exactly what it is he’s holding, my lips part. “Jace,” I pant, “Is that…”
He reaches behind me, giving my ass a harsh squeeze to confirm. My legs shake as my heart collides with my ribcage. “I want everything from you, Lucy. Every taste. Every hole. Everything.”
I want everything from him too.
Every taste. Every emotion. Every truth.
So, I nod my head. Bow my body against him. And I give and take.
Although he tells me not to leave, I still slink out of Jace’s house at close to four the next morning so that I can go home to get dressed for work. I'm relieved that my mother is still in bed because my hair is crazy and I still have that flushed look that only comes from the kind of night I had shared with Jace. After I shower and make myself presentable, though, she’s already up and fussing around the kitchen.
I hum along to the sound of Gaga and Tony from the counter CD player, and she looks up from her newspaper. “You’re in a good mood.” She turns her mug to her lips, her stare sharp and knowing as she lowers it to the placemat.
“The event we went to went really well. Jace’s client was very … pleased.”
She makes a face. It’s obvious she wants to ask more, after all, this is my mother, but she only moves her head in a slight nod. “I'm happy to hear that.” She supports her chin in her hands. “I was thinking, maybe we can reschedule that dinner with my friend. Maybe this weekend? Maybe you can even invite your boss.”
I glance over my shoulder at her while I pour my own cup of coffee. I’m not sure how Jace will respond to an invitation to have dinner with my mom, especially since we’re still casual—even if last night felt like anything but—yet it’s worth a try. “I'd like that.”
She beams, and from her content expression, I can tell she really enjoys this man. It makes me happy. Hell, it would make my dad happy. “I think this is great, Mom,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “That you found someone who makes you … smile again. I haven’t seen you this way in a long time, but I don’t want it to stop.”
I don’t want anything in my new life to stop.
“I don’t want that to happen either,” she says softly.
I'm still in a good mood when I step into the office, and I have every intention of finding Jace and letting him know just how sore my body is this morning, but Daisy motions for me to stop when I reach for the workshop door.
She's on the phone, wearing a pained expression, but she covers the receiver and firmly tells me, “Don’t go back there, Sunshine.”
Waiting in the chairs by her desk, I frown, listening to her repeatedly apologize to whomever she is speaking to. The second she hangs up the phone rings again, but she rakes her fingers through her platinum hair and ignores it. “It’s ringing off the fucking hook,” she mutters.
“New orders?” I ask sympathetically, and my heart freezes when her face falls.
“Jace hasn’t”—she takes a breath and drags her hand over her face—“he hasn’t called you yet to tell you what’s going on?”
“No…” A heavy weight plummets to the pit of my stomach, and the pressure claws up, stopping at my heart. “Daisy is everything okay?”
She reels in another deep breath and squeezes her eyelids shut. “Oh, Sunshine…” she sighs. “We’re so fucked right now.”
That pain in my chest intensifies, so I stand. I fidget with the strap of my purse, waiting for an explanation. Waiting for her to tell me she’s upset over something that easily fixable—like making the wrong size table or shipping a box of toys with five or six products missing.
“You're really freaking me out,” I say, my voice rising with each word. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Your Snapchat,” she says simply, and when I stare at her blankly, her jaw goes slack. “The story you put up on there last night? We’ve been reporting it all morning, but it’s still there. Someone took a photo of your pic. It’s all over the place this morning. Jace’s clients are freaking the fuck out.”
Since there was only one picture I shared last night, a chill slices through me. “No.” There’s a tremor in my voice, and I shake my head. “I mean, yes. I sent a private snap to my best friend, but she would never do that to me. She would never…” I drag in a deep, gasping breath as I nearly rip my purse open, digging around for my phone.
As I fumble through the apps on my phone, Daisy offers me a look of sympathy mixed with a double shot of pity. “I'm sure she wouldn't, but you didn’t make it private. Jace might not have gotten it because he hates social media, but I saw it. And someone who follows you is a shithead who might’ve ruined us.”
My throat feels like it’s closing so tightly I can no longer breathe as I confirm what she’s just told me when I open the app to find the photo from B’s party—the one I thought I sent secretly to Jamie—in my public posts. I release a sound that doesn’t even sound human as I jab at the screen, desperately trying to erase my mistake. Tossing my phone on her desk, I sink into the chair and drop my head between my knees. “How bad is it? How … where has the photo been shared?”
“It’s on the front page of Gossip Daily.”
My head snaps up from my lap, and I press my hand to my chest, praying it will calm the angry thud of my heartbeat. “How is that even possible?”
She turns her tablet towards me. A numb pressure settles over my face, draining into the rest of my body, as I scan the headline. Millionaire Heiress involved in Kinky Sex Scandal with Prominent Entertainment Attorney Mateo Bailon.
Oh dear god, what have I done? I bring my hand up to my throat, dragging my fingertips across my skin as I look at my mistake. Staring at it with sober eyes, I see now that, although my face is front and center in the picture, I’m not the only person on display. Directly behind me, Mr. B is speaking with the woman I noticed when we first stepped into the Voyeur Room. Though the X-rated bits are blurred, it’s obvious she’s naked and even more apparent his finger is skimming the side of her breast.
“Has Jace seen this?” She looks away from me, worrying her lips together.
“That's why I stopped you. He's in his office right now with his lawyer and it’s not good. Like, we could be royally fucked over this.” When my breath hitches, she shakes her head. “I’m not mad. I promise I’m not mad, but … good luck. With Jace.”
It’s the same thing she said to me on my first day working here, but as I brokenly walk through the door, I already know there's not going to be anything good about this.
I had screwed up—again—and now I’ll have to find a way to fix the awful mess I’ve made.
TWENTY-EIGHT
JACE
At almost thirty goddamn years old, I’ve learned what to expect from people so that I don’t get shit on.
I was taught early on not to expect a thing from my father. When the inheritance that started m
y business came in, a shock to me, it was nearly a decade too late to help my mum.
I expected that my instructors at Middlesex would write me off, so I’d applied myself more than I ever have in my entire life.
I even anticipated Michaela. I figured she’d get pissed at me, that she’d threaten to share a design I was working on with a national chain, so I fired her before that ever happened.
Up until this morning, I thought I was good at knowing what to expect, at reading the people around me.
Then Lucy had shit all over that belief.
My muscles tightening, I clench my teeth and stare across my desk at my attorney. “What the fuck do we do?”
Hannah sneers at me. It makes this situation worse. I’m about to toss buckets of money at her, and she’s staring at me like I posted the fucking photo. “For starters, you fire the bitch who made this mess and—”
“Don’t call her that,” I growl. The attorney’s shitty expression deepens, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m furious at myself for sticking up for Lucy. For trusting her. I don’t want my lawyer reminding me of what a pussy I am for falling for big hazel eyes and that willingness that had driven me mad with need. I scrub my palm over my face. “I’ll handle Williams, you just handle this.”
Uncrossing her long legs, Hannah stands and grabs her briefcase. “You know I will, Jace. For now, I don’t want you talking to anyone. And I want that bi”—I stare her down, making her swallow hard—“to keep quiet too. My assistant’s already working on the paperwork, so I’ll be in touch in an hour or two.”
“Good, make sure that it’s quick.”
She hurries to the door, her dark hair bouncing behind her. “I will, I swear. Look, I know Bailon. I’ve dealt with him numerous times, and I know how to get through to him. This will all be taken care of,” she says. “Just make sure you get rid of that woman so I can begin to appease him.”
“I will,” I say. It shouldn’t sting my chest to make that promise, but it does.