I paused, letting my mind reset.Maybe when I opened it again, I’d be wrong.
I’d behappyto be wrong.
Except when I slid the drawer open a second time, gripping the small black pull—yep, still there.
Spread out like some pervert’s buffet were more sex toys and associated items than most adult stores kept on hand.
They weren’t tossed in all willy-nilly, either.Nope.Someone had carefully placed these.I could almost imagine them testing the layout.
Should the dildo go to the left of the nipple clamps?No, no, the right is better.
There were condoms, lube, vibrators of all shapes, sizes and type, dildos, clamps, wipes.I pulled open the cabinet below the drawer, unable to process it all, only to find that space also sullied with more of this shit.
Floggers were hanging, and more clamps—these on chains—along with masks, gags, blindfolds.
What the hell was wrong with these men?
I shut both the cabinet and drawer far more carefully this time, then shook my head and tucked my pills back into my bag.No way would I put my precious, innocent sleeping pills into that depraved den.
I’d made myself clear, hadn’t I?Just what the fuck were these men expecting?
Maybe they were left over from the last guide?
I shuddered as I pictured any guide stupid enough to let espers use things like that on them.Sure, I’d heard stories, heard guides talk about the ‘perks’ of a session, but I’d never once understood that drive.
Guiding was a part of life, a hated task that I had to complete.It wasn’t pleasant, and it sure as fuck wasn’t sexy.
Other guides might get wet from a session, but I was broken, snapped too early and unable to heal back into the normal form.
So if they thought this was what they were getting?
They were in for a fucking surprise.
A few hours later, the steps of the stairs didn’t so much as creak beneath my feet.I’d heard that when espers moved into a place, they overhauled everything.The structure usually needed to be reinforced to withstand the general life of an esper.
This meant that the construction was always top-notch.
Despite the fact that Reject Squad was fairly well mocked, it seemed they were no exception to that rule.When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I found the table already full.
The three I’d already met—along with one new face—sat along the two sides of the rectangular table, with an empty plate at the head, clearly meant for me.
Yeah, this looked exactly like an interrogation.
Not that it shocked me.Some squads were so happy to have a guide that they didn’t give a damn about details.Any guide willing to take on a squad like this deserved a bit of questioning, however.
Not to mention that there had to be a certain level of trust between espers and guides.They had to interact so much, had to put faith in one another.I didn’t much want to answer questions—nor ask them—but that didn’t mean I couldn’t understand the desire.
I headed over, ignoring the way they all stared at me, and took the spot obviously meant for me.When I sat, I peered at the food there—a sandwich and fries.Neither appear overly culinary but edible enough.
“The information they sent us said you didn’t have dietary restrictions,” Carter said.“Is there anything you don’t like?Anything we should get or avoid?”
I knew it really didn’t matter, but something about that felt like giving away trade secrets, like telling them things they didn’t need to know.
Sure, them finding out I hated carrots but loved apples probably wouldn’t hurt me, but I still had found that telling espers anything never worked out in my favor.
“Nothing.It’s all fine by me.”
Carter said nothing, but a glance in his direction said he didn’t believe me.Still, he shrugged, the same disinterest he often had.“You’ve met Kenyon and Ingram already.”He gestured at each man.
