Chapter 41 Sydney
FORTY-ONE
SYDNEY
“There’s a delivery truck outside from a place called Vixen’s Edge. They say they have your dungeon furniture, whatever the fuck that means. Should I tell them they have the wrong address?”
Steele chokes on a laugh as my eyes go wide, my skin turning a very interesting shade of pink while I stare back at Theo.
He’s got his arm extended, pointing out to the circular driveway, where two large men are unloading our new bondage bed frame.
According to the call I received this morning, they’re early by more than three hours, which is about to make move-in day a lot fucking weirder.
I clear my throat. “They have the right address. Tell them to put it in the basement.” Taking a few steps backward, I toss a thumb over my shoulder. “I’m just gonna go find somewhere to pass away in the meantime.”
“Okaaaayyyy,” he says, drawing out the word in confusion as I bolt toward the kitchen, the only room in the house that’s currently unoccupied.
The Renegades and their girls are all over the place, setting up furniture and hanging decorations to help Steele and me before they head to Buffalo for the AFC championship this weekend.
It’s definitely not ideal that we got the keys to our brand-new house in the middle of playoffs, but Angus deserves a place where he can run and play, and that’s definitely not possible in my old Cleveland high-rise.
“Well, that was sufficiently awkward,” Steele says as he saunters into the room, looking like a whole snack in his gray sweatpants and fitted Renegades T-shirt.
His dark hair sticks out from under a backwards baseball cap, and if I wasn’t completely mortified, I’d be dragging him into the pantry so I could turn his ass red for being so irresistible.
I’ve been trying to get work done all day, but I’ve spent more time counting his piercings beneath the fabric like an obsessed pervert.
“I guess I should just be thankful that my parents left early,” I reply, looping my arms around his neck.
He doesn’t waste a second lifting me onto the marble countertop and pressing his mouth to mine in a hungry kiss.
It’s a chilly Cleveland winter right outside these walls, but the way he devours me sets every inch of my skin on fire like it’s the middle of July.
I can’t wait to be alone with him, so we can christen every surface in this house like I’ve been dying to do since the first time I saw it.
“You’re having impure thoughts,” he murmurs against my lips.
“I can tell. What is it, baby? Are you thinking about cuffing me to the cross and edging me until I beg? Or maybe you want to be the submissive one tonight. That spanking bench looks ready to be taken on its maiden voyage. The plane ride to New York will be deliciously uncomfortable for you when you can’t sit down, won’t it? ”
I tap my lower lip, pretending to think.
“That all sounds amazing, but I think I want to cage you again. I read somewhere that it’ll easily fit under a jock strap.
That way, every run you make will come with the bite of pain you love so much.
Or maybe I’ll make you wear a vibrating butt plug while you play, so I can congratulate you properly the moment you punch your ticket to the Super Bowl.
A stadium full of fans, and I’ll be the only one who knows you’re coming in your football pants like a naughty boy. ”
“You’re evil, Mistress,” he says, a devious grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I fucking love it.”
“And I love you,” I reply, kissing the tip of his nose. “We should probably go direct the delivery crew. I want the toy chest to be close to the bed for easy access. And the throne has to be right in front of the cross for…reasons.”
He narrows his eyes. “Should I be scared of those reasons?”
“Probably,” I reply with a shrug, a coy smile creeping across my face.
He chuckles, lifting me from the counter and urging me to wrap my legs around his hips as he carries me to the basement door.
Just as we’re about to descend the stairs, Stella’s voice coming from the living room stops us in our tracks.
“Oh my God, guys! Come here!” she shouts. We take off toward her, followed by all the others, making it just as the frame cuts to a reporter standing outside a courthouse.
“Florida gambling ring organizer Robby Delano was indicted today on several felony charges, including Illegal Sports Betting, Money Laundering, Tampering with Evidence, Kidnapping, and two counts of First-Degree Murder after several employees came forward with information following his arrest. This is a big win for the FBI, after years of alleged corruption within the Miami Police Department made it impossible to prove any wrongdoing. If convicted of these crimes, Delano faces a sentence of life in prison without parole. We’ll keep you updated on this case, as well as the ongoing federal investigation into the MPD, as more details become available.
This is Lindsey Swan of Action News. Back to you, James. ”
“Holy fuck,” Austin says. “I can’t believe those guys actually turned on him.”
Maddox shrugs. “I’m sure they know he’s going to do the same to them. They’re just beating him to the punch, so the courts go easier on them. Hopefully, they get the help they need in prison.”
“It’s over, baby,” Steele whispers into my ear as his arms wrap around my waist from behind. A tear rolls down my cheek, a relieved exhale leaking from my lungs now that we finally have the confirmation we were hoping for.
I can’t stop my mind from wandering to Styles, and how me being kidnapped changed his relationship with Steele.
For days after, his brother tried calling and texting to apologize for pulling me into it, but Steele stood his ground, refusing to reply.
Styles finally made the decision to check into rehab, where he’s been for weeks.
I’m not sure if any of their issues are reparable, or if I’d even feel safe around him, but I’m still hoping he sticks it out with his treatment and builds a better future for himself, with or without his twin in the picture.
I’ll support Steele’s decision either way, and his Renegades brothers will be there to fill the empty space when he needs it.
Thankfully, they’ll be together for years to come, although none of them know it yet.
My father called me into his office earlier this week to tell me that they’ve decided to offer Steele a five-year, fifty-million-dollar contract extension once the season is over.
Of course, I cried like a baby, so grateful that the man I love isn’t about to be shipped off to another city, but I honestly can’t say I was too surprised that they chose to keep him.
Not only has he been an integral part of the Renegades’ best season yet, but he’s won the fans over, too.
Seeing them wearing his jersey and chanting his name from the sidelines will never get old, because I know how much it means to him.
He may not have expected that it would happen here in Cleveland, but the love and respect this city has given is worth so much more to him than any contract.
I couldn’t be prouder of his journey, and I’m beyond grateful to be a part of it.
Steele Harlow went from being on top of the world to rock bottom before he crashed into the wrong room at The Velvet Curve. I was just looking to be seen and heard, not knowing that his blunder would turn my entire existence upside down in the most unexpected way.
Through immeasurable trust and love, Steele and I grew together, proving that there’s just as much power in giving up control as there is in wielding it. It may be a scary jump to make, but it’s equally as beautiful, and that’s what makes our story my favorite of them all.