She wasn’t talking about killing a person. That’s not making their life worse, it’s ending it completely.
I push the laptop away, leaving it on the ottoman and pace. My gaze constantly focuses on the closed office door, as if I could will Declan to come back.
I need a break. I need something to distract me. I need him. He can make this feeling go away. He did it last night and he can do it again now. I just need him.
With my fingers making knots around each other, I look through the shelves on the walls, through classic books, eyeing collectibles that look like they’ve come from all over the world. It seems … curated. Expensive and luxurious. There’s a hint of Declan within the details, but it’s not quite him. Vaguely I wonder if he’s even read these books, or if he simply prefers to collect them.
The things that are more obviously Declan are tucked away where no one else can see. In the hidden room concealed by the bookshelf. I do two more slow laps around the office, checking for anything else to occupy my time, all the while waiting for him. Anything at all.
I shouldn’t be snooping, I know that, but the hidden door begs me to open it. It promises me he won’t mind if I wanted to look through the collection of leather implements.
My resistance gives way as the clock tick, tick, ticks, and I open it just like Declan did, pressing my hand against a panel, and all the whips and paddles he showed me before are revealed.
Holy shit. Heat engulfs my body. It’s no less intimidating now that I’m alone.
I don’t dare touch a single thing, but I have time to trace my eyes over the whips and toys and tools. He has an impressive collection and my pulse flutters in my throat. He won’t hesitate to use these on me. Probably all of them.
I swallow hard. Some of the whips look vicious. The other implements make me just as nervous, though Declan promised me he knows how to use them. We’ve done enough together that I believe him. Even staring at the sharp ends of the whip, a heat pools between my thighs. He could make any pain turn to pleasure.
I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me. In this moment, I’m certain of that.
Gaining courage, I take a thick vibrator out of the shelf and test the weight in my hands. Glancing behind me, I have to move around the shelf to check the door. Still nothing. I’m still alone. Placing the vibrator back, I decide to let my curiosity guide me.
I let my mind wander through the various scenarios that would be inspired by each one when I hear someone in the hall, the footsteps steady and sure. The nipple clamps fall to the floor. Fuck!
I snatch them up, making sure I haven’t left anything out when I hear the door open. Shit, shit, shit. There’s someone with him.
The space is large enough to stand in and like a child caught snooping, I barely get the door closed in time. My heart races in the dark space. There’s only a crack of light and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. The door is not all the way shut. Just enough that I don’t think they can see me.
I can’t see the door, but I hear it shut and the scooting of a chair. Oh my God. Why did I hide in here? Inwardly I curse myself.
I take a step back into the closet but my shoulder blades brush against the whips hanging on the wall. No more moving, or else I’m bound to push an item off a hook and give myself away. Through the thinnest crack in the door I can see Nate, standing near Declan’s desk, although his back is to me. I hope he doesn’t look back here and notice the open door. If he does, he’ll probably sense I’m standing right behind it.
“How did the meeting with your brothers go?” Nate asks.
My heart pounds. I sure as hell should not be listening to this. Fuck. I do everything I can to block it out. Fisting my hands by my side and closing my eyes although they don’t stay closed for long.
“Not much to update on,” Declan answers.
I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure if I should come out and reveal myself or stay put. It feels like it’s too late to do anything.
As they talk, all I can think is: fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Declan comes across the room and stands in front of his desk. His eyes travel over my empty chair in the corner of the office, and then he glances toward the adjoining bathroom. The door is open. I know it. I left it open.