I’ve never been the type to jerk off in hotel rooms thinking about a woman. Never needed to. Sex has always been available when I wanted it, no emotional attachment required.
I clean up and finally crawl under the covers. Set an alarm for five AM so I can get to the airport early.
My helicopter lands at the estate at eight thirty the next morning.
I head straight inside, not bothering to check in with staff or drop my bag. I need to find her first.
She’s in the library, laptop open, coffee mug beside her. She looks up when I walk in, and her face lights up. “You’re back.”
“I’m back.” I cross the room and pull her to her feet, kissing her hard.
She melts into me immediately, hands fisting in my shirt. When I finally pull back, she’s breathless. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” I brush hair back from her face. “Where are my sons?”
“Kai’s in the gym. Donovan’s on a call in his office.”
“Good.” I kiss her again, slower this time. “Meet me in the red room tonight. Nine o’clock.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “The red room?”
“Yes.” I let the words sink in. “Wear something easy to remove.”
Her breath catches. “Okay.”
“Good girl.” I release her and head to find Donovan and Kai.
I find Donovan first, just finishing his call.
“Tonight,” I say without preamble. “Red room. Nine o’clock.”
He looks up, understanding immediately. “All of us?”
“Yes.”
“It’s been a while since we all used that room together.”
“I know.” I lean against his desk. “But I’ve been gone two days, and I need her. Really need her.
Donovan’s expression shifts into something darker. “I’ll be there.”
Kai’s easier to convince. I find him doing pull-ups in the gym, and when I tell him the plan, he grins. “About time. I’ve been going crazy.”
“Keep it in your pants until tonight.”
“No promises.” But he’s already heading for the showers. “Nine o’clock. Red room. Got it.”
The rest of the day drags. I catch up on work, handle calls, and pretend I’m paying attention during meetings. But mostly I’m watching the clock.
At eight forty-five, I head to the red room to make sure everything’s ready.
The room is in the oldest part of the private wing, behind a door that looks like every other door but opens to reveal something most people would never expect.
Deep red walls. Low lighting. A massive bed in the center with black silk sheets. Equipment mounted discreetly along the walls—restraints, various implements, things we’ve collected over years of sharing with women who wanted this kind of intensity.
It’s been months since we’ve used this room. Maybe longer.
I adjust the lighting, make sure everything’s clean and ready. Pour wine. Set the temperature.
