“I just… I’m not… He’s working.” She stammered the lame excuse knowing full well that wasn’t the reason.
“That was the worst dodge I’ve heard all week. Spill. What happened?”
Emily shifted, tongue darting out to lick her lips. “Nothing happened.” Her hesitation an entirely different story.
“Was he boring? A bad kisser?” Julia leaned in. “Or—God forbid—lousy in bed. Please tell me it’s not that tragic.”
“Can I ask you something, without you laughing?” Emily cut in, her nerves close to unraveling.
“Of course. My lips are zipped.” She mimed zipping them—badly.
“I’ve known him all my life. Loved him for most of it. The first time we got close, it was off-the-charts—like I couldn’t breathe. He got called into work, so nothing actually happened. But last night, when it did…”
“Disappointment central?” Julia offered.
“Yeah.” Emily let out a long breath. “Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t bad. We both… you know. But it lacked the intensity of the first time. It felt—nice, and safe. Not consuming.”
Julia tilted her head. “Okay, scientist mode. What else was different? I’m talking where, what, and how?”
“Last night was at his place—huge, beautiful house, perfect mood lighting, big bed. The first time was on my crappy couch in my dinky apartment.”
“Doing what exactly?” she asked.
Emily locked her jaw. No way was she admitting what Alec had done to her. Worse, that she liked it and the memory had been haunting her ever since. Or that afterward, she’d spent considerable time with the battery-powered stand-in tucked in her underwear drawer.
“Forget I asked,” she uttered, turning toward the stairwell.
Julia raised a brow so high, it practically reached her hairline. “Whatever you did that’s too scandalous to say out loud—that’s your missing ingredient.”
Emily groaned, burying her face in her hands and mail. “What if that’s all we have?” she whispered. “What if it’s the kink that does it for me—not him?”
The question unsettled her—not because she wanted the answer, but because she needed it.
“There’s one way to find out.” Julia waved the invitation. “This is the perfect opportunity.”
“Except for what I stumbled upon the other night, I don’t know anything about this,” Emily protested. “I’d be in so far over my head, I’d drown.”
“Novices are welcome,” she said breezily. “This is prime real estate for kink-curious newbies like you.”
Emily looked at her through narrowed eyes. “How do you know so much? Surely not from slinging drinks two nights a week.”
Julia ignored her question and went right on talking. “Plus-ones can’t be just anyone. They have to be vetted.”
“I imagine so. The contracts and NDAs make sense. But what does that have to do with—”
“When I suggested bringing someone, I didn’t mean boring guy. I meant me.”
Emily shifted in shock, and the door slammed shut behind her. “You’re into this stuff?”
“Oh, honey. I’m more than into it,” Julia said, smirking. “I’m a Devil’s Pointe member.”
Emily’s jaw dropped. “I thought you knew your way around because you were a regular with Regina. You never said a word!”
“I don’t exactly broadcast my lifestyle choices,” Julia said. “The offer stands. Girls’ night out tomorrow? You can do your ‘research,’ but you’ll have to participate in something.” She pointed at the fine print on the invitation. “Club rules—no gawkers allowed.”
“It says that?” Emily squinted at the text.
“Not in so many words, but that’s the gist. I’m still curious who sent it. You wouldn’t have gotten an invite unless someone knew you were interested.”
