I'd dismissed it. But now, alone in the dark with my body still humming from Easton's touch, I scrolled through the information.
Discreet. Anonymous. Safe.
A place to explore without judgment. To let go of control. To submit.
My breath caught. The idea of surrendering, of letting someone else take charge, decide, and take what they wanted while I could simply… feel.
It sent heat pooling low in my belly.
Strong hands pinning my wrists. A commanding voice telling me exactly what to do. The freedom of not having to think, to plan, to carry the weight of secrets and responsibilities. Just sensation and obedience and release.
But as I read through the membership information, the fantasy shifted.
It wasn't anonymous hands I pictured. It was Easton's.
Easton crowding me against the wall, his blue eyes dark with intent. His fingers wrapped around my wrists, holding meexactly where he wanted me. His low and rough voice telling me tobe stillwhile he took his time exploring every inch of my skin.
"Good girl," he'd murmur against my throat, and I'd melt under the praise.
I pressed my thighs together, trying to ease the ache building there. This wasn't helping. The whole point of a place like Sassy's was to keep things separate.
Physical release without emotional entanglement.
But I didn't want anonymity. I didn't want separation.
I wantedhim.
And that was exactly the problem.
I closed the browser and set my phone aside, my heart racing.
Because my feelings for Easton were anything but simple. Getting closer to him would only make the inevitable heartbreak worse when he learned the truth.
I turned onto my side, pulling the covers tighter around me despite the heat still simmering under my skin.
For tonight, at least, he was here. In my home. Helping with our daughter. Fitting into our lives as if he belonged.
Tomorrow would bring complications enough.
Just for a moment, I would let myself imagine what it might be like if this weren't temporary. If Easton's presence in our lives could be permanent. If the three of us could be the family Casey deserved.
The fantasy was dangerous.
But in the darkness of my bedroom, with the memory of his almost-kiss still burning on my skin, I allowed myself to indulge in it, anyway.
Just this once.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Palisade
When I woke that morning, Easton was already gone.
I'd heard his truck start around six, before Casey's alarm, before the sun was fully up. Part of me had wanted to go downstairs, to say something about last night, to acknowledge what had almost happened in the guest room doorway.
But I'd stayed in bed, listening to the sound of his engine fading down the street, and told myself it was for the best.
Getting Casey ready for school felt mechanical. Toast. Backpack. Hair brushed. Shoes on. She chattered about her science project, about whether Easton would come to Wednesday dinner this week, about how she couldn't wait to skate again.
