I hang my head under the spray, letting the water run over me and in rivulets down my face. I take deep breaths, trying to calm my panic.
No one at Hedon knows who I am.
Not only because I wore a mask and used my alias on the confidential club application, but because I’ve been gone for years. I used a slight accent, and I look very different body-wise.
No one knows that Kathryn Wentzell is Leeva Malone,I reassure myself. And no one knows that Kathryn Wentzell was the one wearing the white mask with dancing flames last night.
A mask, which Riveria, Hedon’s manager, said was perfectly normal to wear every time, and that several members did to conceal their identity.
Which means I can attend Hedon again wearing a mask, in hopes of finding my mystery wolf.
“No.” I slap the tile wall, and it echoes in the bathroom. Lifting my head, I wipe the water out of my face. “I’m not going back to Hedon,” I vehemently remind myself.
I can’t risk seeing my wolf again…not now that I know he’s a member of the Havoc Guardians.
But my body isn’t on board with that. And even some parts of my mind are protesting.
You promised yourself you’d explore this desire you’ve always smothered.
Luthor knew nothing of my…moredeviantdesires. That I wanted to be commanded and told what to do. That I wanted to be tortured with pleasure by my partner using toys. That I wanted cum play and to have my skin painted with cum. Or that I’m pretty sure I wanted what I discovered is ‘free use’.
My cheeks burn, a part of me still feeling shameful. I have no idea why I have the thoughts and urges that I do. But after years of ignoring and denying this, I decided to dip my toes into exploring it.
I promised myself I’d do this.
This promise reminds me of another promise; one I made to Luthor that I’d make peace with my past.
Luthor. My husband, who was a friend that protected me more than anything else.
He only wanted my internal wounds to heal. He was convinced that coming back here to face my betrayers would do that, andI had finally relented and promised him on his deathbed that I would.
He had tried to get me to return here to do that for years, but as Luthor’s wife—even if it was mostly in name only—I refused to tangle him with my past.He was a good man, and I didn’t want him associated with a criminal motorcycle club, even if it was a weak connection.
I finish washing the sins from last night off my body, then turn off the water and grab a thick, white towel with a cursive E embroidered in the middle to dry off. When I’m back in my bedroom, I look at myself in the mirror.
Long gone is the rail-thin girl who fought like hell to avoid having her curves emerge. My breasts are high and full, my waist is narrow, and my hips are flared.
There’s a thrum between my legs as I wonder how I looked through my wolf’s eyes; however, the memory of hisravenoushunger when I let my dress pool to the floor gives me an idea.
My eyes shift to the closet, and I like of the garment bag hidden in there that contains another equally sinful dress.
But then I stamp my foot. “I’mnotgoing back to Hedon. And he’s notmywolf. Stop it, idiot.”
I need to resist going to Hedon and seeing that man again. I’ve always been the good girl. The vanilla girl. Pure and innocent like a dove.
Little dove.
My heart clenches painfully and my eyes fill with tears, remembering Hayes calling me that. I miss him so much it’s a physical pain.
I know he finally enlisted after I ran. Luthor used his connections over the years to check on him for me, letting me know that Hayes hadn’t been killed in the line of duty. I was surprised to learn he’d chosen the Marines instead of the Army,like his grandfather. But Hayes always marched to the beat of his own drum.
God, if Hayes found out what I did last night, he’d be mortified.
He always put me on a pedestal, like I was untouchable. Too pure and too innocent for their world. Which I was, but the way my best friend shoved me up onto that pedestal—and kept me there—was extreme.
I knew, from Luthor’s investigation, that Hayes had been honorably discharged from the Marines a few years ago and had returned to San Francisco. After that, I begged Luthor to stop providing updates on him. I couldn’t handle hearing about him stepping back into his road name, Army, or that he had taken an old lady.
But with Luthor’s deathbed promise, I was here to face my past and my estranged best friend. Back when I ran, I did so too quickly to get any closure from his betrayal.
