None of them spoke for a long moment, until finally Gold answered. “And clearly it was a bad situation. Guess that explains why you’re jumpy, don’t it?”
Sunny curled forward more, staring into her cup as if the answer were somewhere in the swirling chocolate. Besides, not looking them in the eyes felt safer. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
Silver nodded. “That’s fine. Not our business. A little advice, though? You need to learn to tell people no, to use that voice of yours.”
Sunny opened her mouth to tell them that she’ddonethat before, and it hadn’t worked. What was the point in fighting if she always lost? In her experience, ‘no’only made it all the worse, only angered Doms.
Before the all-too-telling words escaped, though, she shoved them down.
What was it about these men? After her panic had ebbed, when she could think straight, she’d found herself willing to say things she knew she shouldn’t. They created a wall around her, one that kept her safe from anything outside the small circle they’d formed.
And that was a dangerous thing to think and feel, especially because she should fear them more than anything else.
Will I never learn?
“You look like you feel better,” Silver said. “At least, you don’t look like you’re about to fall down again.”
Low standards.
“You want the front to call a cab? Or did you drive yourself?”
Sunny lifted her gaze toward the door, tempted by the thought of leaving. She could go home, back her little one-bedroom house, back to the quiet, the emptiness and the solitude.
And she could think aboutheremore.
She returned to her dreams, the ones where she woke sweating and so close to release, with the memory of faceless men, with her wrists bound, her eyes covered and their rough, commanding voices in her ears, with her craving something she denied herself. What sort of life was that?
She’d come for one reason—to prove thatthiswasn’t for her anymore. She’d get a taste, then go back to her real life understanding that the desire was just her own stupid brain playing tricks. It was nothing more than her mind wanting to relive her trauma, as if it could make sense of it if she tried again. She’d thought about it for months, looked at the website for the club and started an email to the owner over and over again. It had taken her so long to get to this point. She needed to be brave enough to face this, to prove to herself that this wasn’t the life she wanted so she could finally let it go.
So Sunny shook her head. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Really? What is it you want then, little speechless Fox?” Silver asked.
Sunny swallowed and set her drink on the table before her trembling hands dropped it. “I want to try.”
“Try what?”
“Everything.”
Garrison hadneverwanted a woman this badly. He watched her through his silver mask and kept his hands folded in his lap to hide his body’s reaction to her. While erections weren’t unusual in Sanctuary, he knew the unsure little fox in front of him might just bolt at the sight.
Which was why his desire shocked the hell out of him. He was used to experienced submissives, the ones who would strip down at the curl of his lips, who shivered in delight when they spotted his flogger. He had never been the type to find much interest in the shy or unsure ones.
So what was wrong with his cock for wanting anything to do with the woman before him?
She wore a white sundress—was one of the most covered-up in the club—but damn if she didn’t look like the best sort of bait. A white fox mask with lace details at the sides obscured the top half of her face, but it didn’t hide her lovely, full pink lips or her auburn hair that was braided back and fell to just past her shoulders. It also showed off those big hazel eyes, far too innocent for the things he was thinking.
She was small, her shoulders looking downright fragile with the thin spaghetti straps the only thing hiding them.
And she’d said she wanted to tryeverything? ‘Everything’ was a lot, and the girl was startled by just a raised voice.
So Garrison sat back and studied her, taking in the way she shifted in the seat, the way she picked at the hem of her dress. She was anxious, that much was obvious. Beneath that, though? A flush sat on her cheeks and chest, and she darted her pink tongue out to wet her lips every so often—all signs the girl wantedsomething.
Garrison turned to his friends, to Connor in the gold mask and Trent in the black one.
A quick nod came from each—an agreement to see where it went.
Garrison had talked to her first, so it seemed his job to keep the conversation going. “Everything is alot,” he said. “And the lack of ribbons on your cuff says you might not be ready for that. So why don’t we have a talk before we get started?”