“Was it you?” Em asked, not putting anything past her ballsy friend.
“Please. I would’ve wrapped it in glitter and shoved it under your door.”
“Then I can’t figure out who.”
“If you go, the mystery will probably be revealed.”
Temptation stirred. There were too many questions, too many sparks she didn’t yet understand. But unease tightened in her chest—quiet, insistent. “It feels as though I’d be cheating on Alec.”
Julia’s voice softened. “Hey. It doesn’t have to be about sex. For some people, sure. But for a lot of others, it’s about letting off steam, surrendering control, or the release they get through pain.”
Emily’s heart kicked up as she replayed Devil wielding his crop. The trust, the intensity, and the playfulness.
“I know the members. I can steer you toward a patient dom who enjoys helping newbies find their footing,” Julia added.
Emily bit her lip, still unsure. If this was what she wanted, did she dare suggest it to Alec?
“You negotiate everything,” Julia explained. “It’s up to you, including keeping every stitch of your clothes on.”
“Really?” That was a big fat check in the pros column.
“Yes, everything is consensual,” Julia said, her tone completely serious. “Even if you give consent, if at any point you can change your mind; one word stops it. It’s always your choice.”
That was the part that hooked Emily—the idea that she maintained control.
Julia nudged her hip. “C’mon, Em. I was going anyway—to see if the dom I played with last week wants a round two. If he doesn’t, I’ll be devastated and will need your shoulder to cry on. Please. We’ll go to support each other.”
“I don’t have anything to wear,” Emily argued weakly.
A grin spread across Julia’s face. “Girlfriend, my closet is 70 percent lace and leather. Your excuse just died a swift death.”
“I choose lace, which stays on,” Emily declared firmly. “If I get up the nerve for ‘research,’ it’s with a patience-over-pain dom. Selected by you. Prescreened for niceness.”
“No sadists. Got it,” Julia said, nodding.
“If you can make that happen, I’m in.”
More than that, she prayed the man in her heart never found out. Not until she understood what she really wanted and whether it had ever been separate from him at all.
Chapter 10
“And this,” Julia announced with a Vanna White flourish, “is Devil’s Labyrinth—or the entrance to it, at least.”
“Isn’t there a horror movie by that name? The one with David Bowie?” Emily asked, eyeing the vine-draped arbor. Moonlight painted eerie shadows across the path that led to a dark, yawning archway. If they’d been going for creepy, they’d nailed it.
“I think you mean, Pan’s Labyrinth,” Julia confirmed. “Everyone kept calling itthe maze, which, given the tropical-garden vibes, felt tragically uninspired. A few subs decided it needed a proper, mysterious name. This is what stuck.”
“And the doms were fine with that?”
“We didn’t ask,” she said breezily. “We’ve found if we use a name long enough, the doms eventually come around. Some start to believe it was their idea.”
“It’s been a while, but isn’t the movie about a girl escaping a sadistic stepfather through an imaginary world?”
“Ours is the grown-up version—minus the gore, trauma, and child-endangering stepdad.”
“Is it minus the sadism?” Emily quipped, only half joking.
“There’s some,” Julia admitted. “It’s a BDSM club, after all. You’ll hear screams, but only the good kind.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “If you ever hear someone yell, ‘red,’ get out of the way. Dungeon monitors descend like firefighters.” She raised a hand as if taking an oath. “No exaggeration. Using the club safeword is the same as pulling an alarm.”
