“Uhh, I don’t know, whip people?”
He chuckled. “Well, I won’t deny that I’ve whipped submissives before, but only those who wanted it and never for punishment.”
“I don’t understand that.”
“Don’t understand what?”
“I don’t get how people get pleasure from being whipped.”
“You enjoy it a bit rough. You like when I bite your nipples, you enjoy being spanked.”
“Maybe.” She ducked her head as he pulled up outside his house. He parked then unbuckled his seatbelt. Turning to her, he tilted her face up with a finger beneath her chin.
“No maybe about it. Don’t be ashamed of how you feel, of what you need. That’s what I’m here for, to give you what you need. Some people just like a different level of pain. Truthfully, that’s not my thing either. If you needed it, I’d damn sure make certain that you got it, but I’m no sadist. I don’t get pleasure from dishing out pain, well, from dishing out a lot of pain.”
“What about Stanson? Is he a sadist? Is Gray?”
He shook his head, chuckling. “No, baby. Gray’s a big softie, all the subs come running to him with their problems. Stanson? Well, he’s tougher, but he’s no sadist. When you’re all healed, I’ll take you to visit the club, okay?”
“All right.” She didn’t know if that was excitement or trepidation she felt. Maybe a bit of both.
She waited until Hunter opened her door before climbing out. He held a hand against the small of her back. She loved how he did that, almost as though he couldn’t bear not touching her, even for a moment.
“What about Derrick?” she suddenly asked.
“What?”
“Is he a Dom?” She’d always got that vibe off him, but had never wanted to ask Jacey.
“Yeah, he is. Did you meet his friend, Roarke?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Roarke owns a BDSM club called Decadence. Derrick’s a member.”
“You know this Roarke?”
“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a few years. Roarke is the one who contacted me when Derrick needed help protecting Jacey from Worthington.”
She leaned into him as they stepped into his house. Closing and locking the door, he punched in his alarm code. He motioned her to wait by the door while he searched through the house.
A few minutes later as Cady settled on the sofa, the doorbell rang. Hunter moved to the door, glancing through the peephole before opening it.
Detective Stanson stepped through the door. He looked tired and stressed. His hair was sticking up as though he’d been running his hand through it.
“Juice? Beer? Something stronger?” Hunter asked him.
“Soda. I’m off-duty but I’ve still got to drive.” Hunter got them both a beer. He glanced over at Cady with a raised eyebrow.
“Just a soda, please,” she said. She’d never been much of a drinker.
Hunter brought over their drinks and sat beside her on the sofa.
“How are you feeling, Cady?” Stanson asked, sitting and looking her over. Hunter tensed beside her, sending him a glare. She patted his thigh.
“A lot better, thank you.”
Stanson nodded. “So, you want to tell me what interest Black-Gray Investigations has in that building? Who hired you to watch it?”