An image of Nick posed like the guy on the bus drifted across her mind. “Do you …?” she began, then stopped herself.
How could she phrase it? What did she even mean to ask?
Do you get on your knees and let people whip you? Or are you the one doing it to others?
“Do I …?”
Her stomach flipped. He was going to make her spell it out. She searched his face for any trace of discomfort but found none as he patiently waited for her to ask the question.
She wet her lips. “Do you … participate?”
He smirked. “That was partially the reason for setting up the club, Jannie.”
“Partially?”
“Yes. I also wanted to earn enough money to buy my own plane. Remember when I told you I’d quit my job to fly an air ambulance?”
Now that he mentioned it, she did. “And this makes so much money that you’ll be able to do that?”
He nodded. “More profit than predicted.”
“What about other ways to raise capital?”
“I wanted to raise it fast.”
OK, an admirable goal.
But … Just how far did his club participation go? And why did it bother her to think of him with other women in that sort of scenario? Or maybe … men?
Oh my God.
This was crazy; she had zero claim on this man. And yet, imagining him under someone else’s hands, female or male, made something unpleasant churn inside her.
For what felt like an endless moment, he stared into her eyes, and Jannie had the strange feeling that he was trying to delve into her mind. The sensation was so strong that a shiver ran down her spine. Finally, he looked away, pressing his lips together as if trying to hold back a laugh.
Shit.
He must think her a prude. Or boring.
His gaze returned to her, and to her horror, a flush crept hotly up her neck. Jannie shifted in her seat, wishing Wendy would return to take their food order so she wouldn’t have to endure his unrelenting scrutiny.
“People think they know what’s involved, but they don’t. Most have a very one-dimensional and clichéd view of BDSM,” he said. “It can go far beyond what’s pictured on the bus.”
How far? Her sexual experience didn’t involve anything like that. Moreover, she thought what was pictured on the bus was pretty far.
She raised the glass to her lips and realized it was empty.
“Would you like to see it, Jannie?” he quietly asked.
“You mean, like a tour?” She did her best to sound cool, calm, and collected, even as nervousness swirled inside her.
“There are demonstrations. And I can answer any questions. If it’s of any interest to you.”
Did she want to go there? One part of her was curious; the other part didn’t want to uncover that side of his life.
What if she was put off by it? Would she then be put off by him?
God. She had married the wrong man, and now she had become hopelessly attracted to someone who may be even more wrong for her.
