Frowning, I clarify, “No, I mean you shouldn’t behere, in myhome.”
Her eyes widen as my words sink in, then her shoulders droop. “Oh. I’m sorry, Sir.”
My cock jumps at the words, the submissive tone of her voice, the way she lowers her head in deference. Has she… has she been to a kink club before?
No.That would be too good to be true. And the way she called mesirhas my hackles up.
Is shemockingme?
I pull in a deep breath, struggling to make sense of what I’m seeing with my own goddamn eyes. I can’t seem to rectify the woman I know with the submissive standing before me. If she knows it’s me behind this mask, she might be struggling with the very same affliction. There are dual versions of the man she knows, and until now, I’ve managed to keep this one hidden from the general public.
Sutton swallows, the sound audible in the cramped space. The soft glow from the cluster of lit candles decorating the surface of the bathroom counter gives me the perfect view of her slender throat as it bobs.
“What are you doing here?”
Her mouth opens on a response, but then it closes and she frowns. “I don’t…” She purses her lips for a beat, then asks, “In the bathroom?”
I grunt. Is she fucking with me? “No, what are you doing at a club event? How did you get in?”
“I was invited?”
“Is that a question?”
She huffs. “No,” she says, the sound bordering on a growl. “I was invited.”
My eyes flick back and forth between hers, searching for some semblance of intent in her eyes, but I come up short. I don’t understand. “What do you want?”
“I…” Her brows furrow above her delicate lace mask. “I’m observing,” she finally says, and my breath catches.
Even though I knew why she was here, a small, foolish part of me hoped it wasn’t true. But if she’sobserving, it’s very likely I was right. Sutton is here to gather intel against me. Or worse.
Dread settles into my bones.
“Observing,” I repeat, the word sounding like water over gravel, thanks to my mask.
“I don’t have to participate, do I?”
Her question catches me off guard. “What?”
“I was told… um… that I don’t have to participate if I’m not ready, but… is this room off limits? Am I”—she pauses to look around the room, eyes widening slightly—“in ascene?” She whispers that last part as if the words are foreign to her.
“This is a bathroom,” I state slowly.
She chews on the inside of her cheek, using her knuckle to push her cheek in, and I narrow my eyes. I can’t recall a time that I’ve ever seen this woman nervous.
Watching her, I consider whatever the fuck is going on. If she’s here for a fight, she’s certainly playing the role of clueless submissive well.
Oscar-worthy acting.
We stand in silence for a few long moments while I assess the situation.
Was I wrong about her? Has shenotcome to ruin me?
Is this… could she actually be here, in my home, completely by coincidence?
Finally, I decide to play along. “Do you want to participate?”
She drops her hand to her side and her eyes widen behind her mask. “Oh, um…” She tugs that bottom lip between her teeth and I curl my hands into fists to keep from reaching up and tugging it free. “Maybe…?”
