I stoop lower and Cat repositions the speculum. “See the string there?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve probably never felt this on any of your other subs but you will on her because her string is hanging out a little more than most women’s. That’s not a problem. It’s just that way because of her anatomy, but I’m showing you so you won’t freak the fuck out and blame me for putting in a faulty IUD when you feel the string.”
“Are you sure that it’ll keep her from getting pregnant?”
“It’ll work… as long as you don’t pull the string.”
“There’s no fucking way that I’m pulling on that string.”
“I was never worried that you would, Tristan. I just wanted you to be aware.”
Cat and I move Emma Lia up in the bed and Cat completes her full exam.
“She’s healthy?”
“She’s unconscious, Tristan. It’s impossible to do an appropriate exam in this state, but she looks healthy as far as I can tell.”
“Thank you for coming.”
Cat gathers her supplies and returns them to her bag. “I’ll call once I have the results. Until then, don’t fuck her without a condom.”
There’s no way that I’d ruin our first time with a fucking condom.
I can wait.
6
Emma Lia Grant
My eyelids are heavy.So damn heavy. I want to open them, and I try, but each of them feels like they weigh a ton.
My brain sends the command for them to open and they fail miserably… until they finally obey. A little. But then they close again when they see the bright light coming through the windows.
The sun is incredibly bright, but low, which could only mean that it’s late afternoon. And I’m still in bed.
Why?
Pound. Pound. Pound. The drummer inside my head doesn’t miss a single beat.
What the hell went down last night? Did Avery and I party too hard?
Last night’s events are fuzzy. And then the fuzziness begins to fade a little.
I was inside that bedroom where I’d been held captive… for how long? Two days? Three?
The man in the black suit with the ginger hair and beard—the one who called himself Smith—brought dinner to me. And then things get fuzzy again.
I peek through slits and discover that I’m no longer in that hotel room, but in a different bedroom. And I have no memory of how I got here.
I rise and prop on my elbows, taking in my surroundings. Luxurious bed and bedding. Wood flooring covered by a thick, plush rug. Tall ceilings that must be at least fourteen feet in height. Exquisite medallions on the ceiling. Marble fireplace mantel. The finest millwork that I’ve ever laid eyes upon. Opulent. I’m in the home of a very wealthy person.
Tristan. Broussard.
The softest linens that I’ve ever felt in my life are against my body. All of my body. Shit, I’m naked. Completely naked.
How? Why?
