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“New York?” Sophia replied. “You’re from the city?”

“I am,” he agreed. “You?”

“Brooklyn. I have a small antique shop there, but I go into Manhattan from time to time.”

Nick laughed. “I’ve traveled all over the world, and wherever I go, I meet someone from New York. Half the time it’s someone I know.”

“Small world,” she agreed.

“Want to grab a drink at the juice bar?” Nick suggested, gesturing toward the long bar set toward the back of the dungeon.

“Sure.”

They found two free stools near the end of the bar. A guy in his twenties was behind the counter. Shirtless, he wore the black leather slave collar she’d seen on a number of employees at the resort. “Good evening,” he said as they sat down. “What can I get you? We have fresh squeezed lemonade, sparkling water, still water and all kinds of soda.”

“I’ll have a lemonade,” Sophia said.

“Sparkling water for me,” Nick added.

He turned to Sophia as they waited for their drinks. “So, you own an antique store, huh? That sounds cool.”

“It is pretty great. The store was my aunt’s until she retired two years ago. She still owns the building, which is a good thing because no way could I afford the rising rents in my neighborhood. When I was a kid, I spent every day after school there. And on the weekends, I would tag along with my aunt to estate auctions and garage sales. That’s still my favorite part of the job—discovering gems hidden among the junk. I’ll never be rich, but I love what I do.”

“That’s what matters,” Nick agreed as the bartender set down their drinks.

Sophia took a sip of the tart, not overly-sweet lemonade. “I love your watch, by the way,” she added. “It’s a gorgeous piece.” On closer inspection, she recognized the vintage Patek Phillipe. It was in pristine condition, set in a rose gold case surrounding a silver dial, held in place around his wrist by a black alligator strap.

Nick looked down at his wrist. “I found this in a tiny watch shop in London. It was way more than I should have spent, but it just spoke to me, if that makes any sense.”

“Perfect sense,” Sophia replied, liking him even more. “That’s how I buy most of my finds. But I have to ask—do you remember to wind it?”

Nick laughed. “About half the time.” He shrugged, adding, “I guess I’m kind of old-fashioned in some ways. I own a vinyl turntable, and I actually carry a real pen and notepad with me when I’m working.”

“Hey,” Sophia said with a laugh. “You’re talking to an antique hunter. I get it.” She took another sip of her drink and asked, “So, what do you do that takes you all over the world, notepad in hand?”

“I’m in real estate development. I’m based in the city, but I sometimes get involved in international deals. I also own a couple of private BDSM clubs in Manhattan and LA. That’s one reason I wanted to come to Desire Island. I’m always looking for new ideas.”

“Impressive,” Sophia said.

“But boring,” Nick said with a wave of his hand. “We didn’t come to this dungeon party to talk about our work, right?” He swiveled on his stool, raking his eyes over her body, his eyes glittering.

A shiver of desire moved over Sophia’s skin, her nipples stiffening beneath his assessing gaze.

“You stayed under for quite a long time in the submersion tank,” he remarked, breaking the spell. “I was holding my breath along with you.”

“You were?” Sophia grinned. Her grin fell away as she recalled the dark, enveloping feel of the water closing over her head as Nick lowered her into the water, and the raw, visceral thrill as he held her down.

Nick nodded. “I was impressed with your breath control. And how calm you seemed to be. I’d love to see how you handle other sorts of sensory deprivation.” He placed his hand lightly over hers on the bar.

The atmosphere shifted again between them, like bits of colored glass in a kaleidoscope falling into a sparkling alignment of possibility.

“There’s nothing sexier than a sub, tightly bound, gagged and blindfolded, completely at my mercy, with no idea of what’s coming next.” His voice, already deep, dropped a notch, his dark eyes boring into hers. “She doesn’t know if it will be a brush of lips over her skin, a twist of her nipples, the snap of a whip, or the bite of a cane.”

“Oh,” Sophia breathed softly, her heart suddenly pounding.

“I’m not much for casual play, Sophia. If we scene together, every boundary you thought you had will be challenged. Every limit tested. Every sensation explored.” His grip on her hand tightened, his eyes hooding as he gazed directly into her soul. “Does that work for you?”

Chapter 2

Sophia drew in a sharp breath. This man—this virtual stranger—had somehow intuited her darkest fantasy. Every boundary challenged… Every limit tested… Every sensation explored…


Tags: Claire Thompson Desire Island Erotic