Chapter 42
Michael
Ishamelessly check out Addie’s ass as she walks away from me until she’s out of view. Then I turn to scan the key card against the pad on our private room. It’s set up identically to the one we were in last time, with the small exception of the suspension system drilled into the ceiling.
The last time we were here, I tied Addie’s arms together, so she was restrained but still allowed to move. This time, I plan on using the adjustable straps that will allow her to hang from the ceiling without straining her shoulders.
Just the image of her hanging spread open for me to do whatever I please with her has my cock filling rapidly.
I had no idea that making Addie mine would give me the space to accept who I am and what I want. It’s been freeing to let go of my past and finally look toward the future—one with her by my side forever.
Rolling up the cuffs of my black button-down, I move over to the chest of toys. Our personal collection has grown substantially, but there’s one thing we have yet to try. It was on Addie’s list of curiosities, and I easily find the specific ones I want.
The nipple clamps are adjustable, allowing me to choose how tightly I want them to squeeze, and also feature a dangling chain that will look gorgeous against Adalaide’s tan skin. They’re the perfect beginner set for Addie to explore the sensation without going to extremes.
It takes me a few minutes to get everything put together.
I’m a little grateful Addie isn’t here to watch the setup.
Now she’ll be surprised with what’s in store for her.
I love the look of nerves and excitement in her eyes when I show her something new.
It’s become an obsession to teach her everything I know, and I’ve also come to love our conversations afterward.
It’s allowed us to get closer than I ever imagined.
The raw honesty between us has created this bond I never would’ve been able to create with anyone but her.
A relationship like this felt out of reach until Adalaide made it clear this was the only way we’d ever work. Now I’ll never want anything else.
Checking my phone, I realize it’s been fifteen minutes since Addie went to the bathroom. I don’t want to embarrass her, but what if she’s sick or something?
I’ll give her another five minutes. If she’s still not back yet, I’ll go check on her.
Except my gut only lets me give her three.
I leave the room, heading straight for the women’s restroom. My eyes scan the lounge and bar to ensure she didn’t get stopped by someone wanting to talk. Our wristbands should stop anyone from expecting anything from her, but that isn’t going to stop them from trying to talk to a beautiful woman.
The dark wooden door of the women’s restroom makes me pause. It’s not acceptable for me to barge in there and ask if Addie is okay. Despite having shared a lot of private moments, this is stepping over the line a little too far. But what if she’s sick and no one is there to help her?
As soon as I have that thought, a woman raises her eyebrow at me before she walks up to the door.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but can you see if my girlfriend is in there? Her name is Addie, and I’m worried she’s sick.”
The woman softens at my explanation and nods before heading into the bathroom. She comes back out way faster than I’d have preferred. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t anyone else in there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Maybe she went home.”
I shake my head at her. Addie wouldn’t leave without me. I don’t say anything to her though, turning back toward the lounge. Maybe we missed each other, and she’s waiting outside our room. Panic is trying to build in my stomach, but I shove it down. I’m being irrational.
But when I walk back down the hallway to our room, she’s not there.
Okay, panic is starting to take over, but I take a deep breath to focus on what I should do next.
I grab my cell from my pocket only to remember she left hers in my truck because she didn’t want to carry it around.
Fuck.
I turn on my heel to go back to the lounge. Stepping up to the bar, I wave down the bartender. He comes over immediately, a frown on his face. “What can I get you?”
“Have you seen my girl? She’s got dark curly hair, brown eyes, and is in an emerald-green dress.”
“Yeah, I know who she is. Gorgeous little brunette. I haven’t seen her since you bought drinks earlier.”
“Dammit.” I run my hand through my hair. The panic is about to overwhelm me.
“You don’t know where she is?”
“She went to the bathroom while I was setting up our room, but she never came back, and she’s not in the bathroom anymore—I asked.”
“Shit, man. Could she have left?”
“She didn’t bring anything into the club with her. Her phone, wallet, everything is in my truck.”
“She could’ve found another partner.” He says this with hesitance, knowing it’s the last thing any Dom wants to hear.
I shake my head with conviction. “Not Adalaide. We’ve been in love with each other since we were kids.”
A grating voice cuts into our conversation. “Who are you talking about?”
I turn to face Ronnie. “Adalaide. Have you seen her?”
“She left you all alone?” She scoffs. “What an idiot.”
“No, she didn’t leave me. Something happened. I know it as well as I know my name.” My desperation leaks through every word. I keep scanning the lounge, hoping to see her gorgeous head of curly hair. I can imagine her smirking at me for being over-the-top.
“Are you sure about that?” Ronnie presses. “She doesn’t seem like the most experienced girl in the world. Maybe she got scared and decided to leave?”
I want to growl at this woman to shut up. “You don’t know her like I do. Addie is my soulmate. She wouldn’t just leave for no reason, especially not without saying anything to me.”
“You barely know this girl. How could you possibly think she’s your soulmate?”
Ronnie’s words have me taking a second look at her. “I know her better than I know myself. Do you know where she went?”
Ronnie’s eyes widen at the waves of menace pouring off me. “N-no. I have no idea what happened to her.”
“I’m a cop, Veronica. Do you know what that means?”
She swallows hard while shaking her head.
“I’m pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me. It’s a helpful skill, you know. If the person you’re interviewing knows more than they’re saying, you can push them harder.” I step into Ronnie’s space and grip her throat.
“Hey, wait a second,” the bartender tries to protest.
I ignore him, focusing on the way Ronnie’s pupils dilate. A mixture of fear and lust stares back at me.
“Tell me what you know. Right. Fucking. Now.”