“Garrett, it’s fine. She’s just…too young for all of this. I didn’t really want her getting involved.”
I know before the words are out of my mouth that it’s a hypocritical thing to say. We have plenty of twenty-one-year-old women working for us. Subs, Dommes, dancers, waitresses, performers, whatever. As long as they areof agethen age doesn’t matter.
“You were about to tell me where you found her,” he says with a quizzical wrinkle in his brow.
A minute ago, I was about to tell him, but suddenly I’m not ready. Once I let it out that I’ve hired my son’s ex-girlfriend, things will get complicated. It’s almost like I don’t want them judging me for something I haven’t even done yet. Nothing sexual can occur between me and Charlotte. I hired her solely for the purpose of trying to get my son back—how, I’m still not quite sure, but it has to work. All that matters is I don’t cross that line.
“Another time,” I mutter over the rim of my glass.
“Hey,” Hunter says, holding up his drink, “can you guys believe we’re finally doing this? We need to toast.”
“We’re still six weeks away,” Maggie reminds him. “Don’t jinx it.”
“I’m not jinxing it. The sign is on the door, the opening event is scheduled. We’ve hired a staff and have a full membership. You guys…we’re opening a fucking sex club.”
“Cheers to that,” Garrett says, lifting his drink.
The rest of us echo him, clinking our glasses before throwing them back, and then we fall silent as the words settle in.We’re opening a fucking sex club.
RULE #11: DON’T COMPARE YOUR HOT BOSS TO YOUR DAD MOMENTS BEFORE TOUCHING HIS HEART LINE.
Charlie
“Oh my God,” I stammer, opening my email to find a picture of a woman suspended from the ceiling, naked and wrapped in black cord. She looks like she was caught in a fishing net, and although I can’t see her backside clearly, I’m willing to bet it’s in a prime location for…access.
Emerson furrows his brow as he glares at me.
“Everything all right?”
“These applications…”
A deep chuckle echoes from his corner of the room, and I look up at him in shock. “I mean, what even is this?”
He stands and walks over to see my computer screen. Resting his hands on the back of my chair, he leans over me and stares at the same image I am. “It’s called Shibari,” he says quietly, his deep voice rumbling through my body.
“Is that something you…hire people for?” I ask, gulping on a breath.
“It was Garrett’s idea to have a rope bondage presentation, so we need a few experts to demonstrate.”
“It looks like it hurts,” I grimace. It’s difficult to look at, and even more uncomfortable to be scrolling through the various pictures this woman has sent with Beau’s dad standing over my shoulder.
“You’d be surprised how many people want to be tied up and…”
I turn my face and gaze up into his eyes. When he looks back down at me, my skin grows hot.
“That’s a little more than tied up,” I reply in a low whisper.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he says.
I drag in a deep breath, inhaling the cedar musk scent of his cologne.
“Have you?” I ask carefully.
“Been tied up like that?” His tone is laced with humor as he leans back. I can no longer smell his cologne, and it’s disappointing. “No.”
“I meant…never mind.” This is getting uncomfortable. The notion I held two weeks ago about being able to be a sex club owner’s secretary without talking about sex is basically out the window. We keep cornering ourselves in conversations that inevitably end up inappropriate. It doesn’t help that I don’t know when to quit. “I ask too many questions.”
“Yes, you do.”