Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
One night or a weekend’s usually all I’ve got in me when it comes to a woman, anyway. I don’t know what’s crawled up my ass about this one.
I glare through the glass as Kira smiles at the class with a raised eyebrow, connecting with them in a way I know makes them all adore her. Or become obsessed with her. Obsessed enough to stalk her.
One day I’ll walk away just like with all the others, but not yet.
Not yet.
“So what do you want?” Marcus asks, bringing me back around to the present conversation and why I’m calling.
“Right. Um. Are you coming by the club tonight?”
“Whyyyy?” He stretches out the word, sounding curious. But then he says, “Hold on one sec.” And in a voice further away from the phone, I hear, “No, Ella honey,” he says with infinite patience. “The left shoe goes on the left foot. Your other left.”
He’s obviously with his daughter.
“Am I on speaker?”
“No.”
Good, then I don’t need to watch my words. “You were the one who gave me my initial dom training, and I was wondering if you could give me a brief crash course again. I want to actually try with a woman I’ve met. To get her into subspace.”
“Hmm,” Marcus says, back in my ear. “Well, there are lots of ways to do that. Once a woman knows you and you’ve trained her—” His voice drops away from the phone. “Yes, honey, exactly like with training wheels,” before coming back to me. “Look, I guess now’s not a good time after all. When did you want to try?”
“Soon. Are you gonna be around the club tonight? I’ll pay for the sitter.”
“It’s not the price that’s the problem,” Marcus growls into the phone, sounding frustrated. “It’s finding someone I can trust. The last nanny wouldn’t look up from her damn phone to see that Ella had gotten through the pool gate and almost landed herself in the deep end.”
I felt my chest clench at the thought. “Damn, man. Sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ve got someone at least for nights after I put Ella down so I can come out to the club sometimes. I think I’d go nuts without a little release here and there.”
“So what time’s good tonight, brother? No stress, I can always ask Caleb.”
Marcus makes a disparaging noise. “Please. You see subbies crowding around him like they do me? No. I’ll give you a refresher. Be there at eight.”
“Awesome, man. Thanks.”
The little voice in the background is becoming a higher-pitched whine.
Marcus breathes out a sigh. “Better make it eight-thirty. There’s strip poker at nine, though, and I’m not missing that. Daddy needs a night off with adult play, if you get my drift.”
Then the line switches off.
I stare at the phone. Shit. Note to self. Never have kids.
TWENTY-SIX
KIRA
I check my phone after class, then wince and wish I hadn’t.
UNKNOWN: You enjoy being on stage with all these men staring at your tits, Slut?
UNKNOWN: You’re such a fucking whore.
UNKNOWN: You deserve to be bled.
UNKNOWN: I’ll make you squeal like a piggie before I kill you.
My thumb hovers over the delete button because I want to stop seeing the texts. Want them to stop from ever existing.
But I stop myself from deleting them and glance anxiously around at all the students filing out of class. It’s evidence. And maybe a clue. There are far more women than men in my class. Was my stalker really just here? Was the stage he was referring to my class lectern?
Because there’s no way he could possibly know that I’m hoping to get on a stage at Carnal to scene with Isaak soon. He said probably not this week, but maybe next? I look over at Isaak, who’s walking up from the back row, where he’s been the whole class except for a short period when he stepped out to take a phone call. I immediately feel a rush of relief as he gets closer.
I feel safe when he’s nearby.
And he’s been very nearby the past week. In every which way. In all sorts of positions. I feel my cheeks start to burn, but luckily, the last of the students filter out through the door, none of them hanging around to chat after class, for once.
I tuck my phone into my pocket.
I should show Isaak the texts. But I don’t want anything to stop our plans for tonight. I’ve noticed how Isaak seems even more protective since we’ve become intimate. He barely wanted to let me out of the hotel room this morning, even knowing I had class.
And if there’s one thing I’m not going to let this bastard of a stalker do, it’s to take any more of my freedom. I’m going to be a married woman in seven weeks, and then I won’t be able to do things like scene at a sex club. Freedom is the whole point of having Isaak around, right?