Chapter
Ten
Fox
I’m waiting in Dimitri’s office for Kitten. My body still hurts from the aftereffects of the panic attack. My chest is sore and I have a lingering headache. Dimitri likes to keep his office lights low, which is exactly what I need. I’ve got two masks in my hands, trying to decide which one to wear. One is the basic mask I’ve been wearing, Xs for eyes and a smile. The other is more sinister. I have an array of masks that get used in various rotations. “Which one?” I lift both of them.
Dimitri sneers when he sees it. “I don’t like that one either.” He points to the one with the Xs for eyes, “but that’s better than the creepy clown one.” Then he laughs and claps his hands. “Masked man who works for the Four Families—you’re the Phantom of the Mafia.”
“That’s not funny.” I pause, my hand on the door, keeping my distance.
“Sure it is. And your Kitten is your little opera singer, Christine Daae.”
“I wouldn’t expect that to be in your wheelhouse.” I frown.
He shrugs. “My girlfriend said I lacked literary analysis skills, so I got into reading. Then I fell into a rabbit hole of Amanda Chase pop culture references. Turns out she’s a theater kid and, poof, I read the book and saw the movie, both of them.”
Nerd and fan of cheesy pop music. I’m sort of losing respect for him by the day. Hard to imagine him as a menacing figure now.
I was just going to tell him about the panic attack and the events of the afternoon, but now I don’t know what sort of advice he would give. Or worse, if he’d even take it seriously.
Did I screw everything up with her? Can I balance both Fox and Ryan? Does Ryan even stand a chance while Fox is around?
Kitten/Amber has been second in my thoughts next to impending death thanks to a broken system that has fewer morals than the mob bosses I work for. Every time I see Kitten, she pushes me past my boundaries. She’s never asked for sex, but I can tell she’s getting antsy and more disappointed each day.
“She’s here,” Jade, the receptionist, calls into the office.
I can do this. Keep it professional. Stick to the rules and everything will be fine. I put my phone in my locker, but not before seeing a message from Bear.
Bear: Saw your girl at work … rules are meant to be broken, buddy.
Me: She’s not my girl.
I throw my phone into the locker, slamming the door so hard it bounces back open. The second time, I close it slower, steadier. That’s the trick—slow, steady, careful.
I pull the mask down over my face and take a deep breath. The first one is always the hardest. It takes a few breaths toget acclimated, but when I make it to the room, I’m ready. Remember—you are Fox. Calm. In control. No one knows about your past.
She’s standing in the center of the room, one hand on the table, staring at the toys I laid out on the counter. Her dress balances that sweet-but-sexy-as-hell vibe I’ve come to expect from her. When she turns toward me, I’m in deep shit. Those green eyes with lashes for days, pouty lips, that softness in her face. I am fucked.
“Hi.” She swallows, her mouth opening and closing before she turns away.
“Are you ready to begin?” I ask, stepping closer. She nods. “How are you feeling?”
“Nervous. Excited. And a little concerned about where you plan on putting all that.” She motions toward the toys, dildos in varying sizes, and a container of lube.
“I won’t do anything you’re not ready for.” I brush her shoulder with my index finger. Her breathing changes—slower now. My finger traces down her arm and pauses at her wrist.
She smiles and rests her head on my shoulder. I should step away, create distance, but I don’t want to. But what I should do and what I want to do with her are constantly battling. I step in front of her. “Do you want to show me what you picked to wear?”
Her eyes light up as she does a little twirl. “Do you like it?” Before I can answer, she adds, “There’s much sexier stuff underneath, but I have one request.”
At this point, she could ask for pretty much anything. “Go on.”
“Can you leave the corset on the longest? It was such a pain in the ass to get on.”
“Take off the dress, Kitten.” The Ryan part of me cringes at the order, but Fox is in control, and she likes it when he tells her what to do.
The zipper crawls slowly down her back, exposing her shoulders, then the lace of the corset. She pushes the dress over her hips. Spinning on her toes, she turns around. “Ta-da!”
