Chapter 23 Raegan
Raegan
“He’s not in there,” the strange man who just popped out of the office next to Hayes’ tells me. What is it with this guy? I was literally just about to knock before he stuck his head out.
I consider rolling my eyes for a second, but think better of it. This man is certifiable. I’m so over this place. “I just need to sign some papers and I can leave. Can you let me in there? I’m sure they’re right there on his desk. I’ll sign them and be out of your hair.
“No can do, Red. You’ll have to wait for him to come back. Or…”
I turn on my heels to face him, attempting to school my face and hide the irritation I feel deep down in my fucking soul.
I need to fucking get out of Chicago tonight.
I’m exhausted. I’m confused and I need some fucking air.
Kansas Air. I’ll take any air that isn’t being consumed by both of my exes.
Don’t lie to yourself, Raegan.
Great. Now I’m talking to myself in the third person. This is an awesome development.
“Or what?” I ask with a little too much irritation behind it.
“You can go to him. He’s downstairs. VIP room.
Can’t miss him. You’re not exactly dressed right for that part of the club, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.
” He pauses, considering me for a little too long.
“Yeah. It’ll be fine.” He shoots me an amused smirk before disappearing behind the door once again.
What in the actual fuck is going on? Tugging on my red dress shirt, I look down to assess it and my black pencil skirt.
I’m not wearing anything much different from the first time I came to Gravity.
I didn’t have much choice. I’m running out of laundry, which is yet another reason I need to get home.
“There’s nothing wrong with my clothes!” I yell at the door in my poor attempt to get the last word with a person who isn’t even here anymore. I’m losing my damn mind.
I pull my phone out of my purse and shoot off a quick text.
ME: He’s not even in his office… he’s downstairs.
SUTTON: By downstairs, do you mean…
ME: Jesus, no. What are you? 12?
SUTTON: Sorry. I couldn’t help it. I blame the wine.
Shit. If she’s drinking wine, it means she’s at my place, which also means Greg is being his usual prick self.
ME: Are you and the boys okay?
SUTTON: Everyone's fine. I found your wine stash, Jonah is playing some game on your x-box and Xander is passed out in your bed. Enough about me. Tell me what’s happening there?
ME: Hayes is in the club somewhere and the asshole in the office next to him won’t let me in. What do I do? I just need to sign the papers so I can come home, Sutton?
SUTTON: Go find his ass and make him come to the office now. Whatever he’s doing can wait. Fuck him.
ME: What if I see something I don’t want to see… again? I don’t think I can take it.
SUTTON: Rae, you put on your fucking big ass granny panties and go down there. Who gives a rat's ass what he’s doing? We’ll deal with it when you get home. Now hurry, Xander’s been asking for you.
ME: You know damn well, that there’s only one granny pantser between us… and it’s NOT me.
SUTTON: Whatever… you know what I mean. The sentiment is the same.
ME: Fine. Ugh. Okay. You’re right. I can do this.
SUTTON: Besides, it’s not like you’re still in love with the guy. Get your closure and then get on a plane.
I don’t bother responding to her again, instead choosing to shove my phone back in my purse with aggressiveness it doesn’t deserve.
She’s right. I’m not in love with him. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing downstairs. I just need to rip the band-aid off and get the fuck out of dodge.
My thoughts derail as I picture Demetria’s beautiful face in my mind. Her… I definitely still love. But that love doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t give me back what I lost when Hayes left me and realistically… she’s better off without me.
My pulse pounds with renewed determination as I march back down to the bar, through the guarded club entrance–where I had to leave my phone–and then downstairs.
When I reach the bottom, I’m met with people of all shapes and sizes, in various states of undress.
Some are observing. Some are being observed.
It’s an open space. There’s a woman flogging a half-naked man on a cross on one side of the room and on the other…
a woman is crawling around on the floor attached to a collar and leash.
She’s being led around the room. I’m not a stranger to the scene, but it has been a minute since I engaged in any activities.
My Demetria floats through my mind once again. She’s the only person I’ve done anything with in a long time and the last time I had her under me was months ago.
I let out a deep breath, feeling the muscles in my shoulders relax a little. Being in this space is freeing. A familiar vibration drifts through my body as I take it all in. An invisible pull. One that wishes I had her here with me so I could do something about it.
“That’s not what you’re here for,” I groan to myself.
Scanning the large space, I find the room marked VIP. My brows knit when I notice the handful of voyeurs taking in whatever is happening in that room.
What could they be so interested in?
I casually saunter up behind them, my heart now racing in my chest. I can’t fucking see, so I gently nudge my way through the small crowd until I’m at the room. There’s a large window that people are watching through and the door is cracked. What the hell?
“Why is the door open?” I ask the woman standing to my left.
She looks up and smiles. “They said we could watch. Well, he said and she agreed. They both seem pretty damn into it. They’re so hot together.”
Why do I care? I don’t. Do not look in that room, Raegan.
Before I can argue with myself more or talk myself down–because I clearly don’t listen–I’m at the door, peering through the crack to see what all the fuss is about.
My gaze is met with traps. The most delicious traps I’ve ever seen.
Unfortunately, those delicious traps belong to my husband.
God, I’ve missed that body. It may have been twenty years since I’ve seen it, but still…
it feels so familiar. A little beefier than I remember, but I’d recognize it anywhere.
He’s only wearing faded jeans, slung low on his hips, facing away from the door, and someone is on the other side of him but I can’t see her face. I can’t even see enough of her to tell if it’s–
Oh, fuck. I gasp.
Demetria.
Hayes steps to the side, revealing a very trussed up and blissed out Demetria on the bed.
She’s on her stomach, covered in rope. Her arms are tied behind her back and her calves are bound to her thighs. It’s around her breasts. Her waist. Her shoulders. Her hips. Her ass. Her bare pussy. Every strand is clearly placed with care and intention.
He moves to the wall and presses a button and everyone watching turns their eyes to the ceiling to see a round hoop descending slowly towards the bed.
Hayes grabs it and makes quick work of attaching various loose strands to the metal hoop.
The first connection is right at her back.
The next is at her hips. The last… each of her legs.
She’s completely hogtied and at his mercy and fuck if I’m not jealous, that he gets to have her like this.
And I’m pretty certain I know what’s about to happen next.
A deep throb settles between my legs at the beauty of it all. It takes all my effort to stop my foot from taking the first step that would lead me into the room so I could show him exactly how she likes it.
Her breathing is ragged and she can’t stop squirming. She always was such a squirmer.
He runs his hands slowly across every inch of her flesh before moving her again. She shivers against his touch and lets out a guttural moan.
“P-please, Sir,” she whines and my eyes volley back to him.
A low, dark chuckle is all she gets before he simply answers, “No.”
Her resulting groan is painful and needy.
I’m going to assume that ‘no’ is him not allowing her to come.
I’ve never been tied up to that extent, but I’m suddenly curious about what she’s feeling.
Is it really so pleasurable she’s begging for release already?
Turns out he doesn’t need me to show him anything, after all. He’s got her right where he wants her.
Hayes presses another button and she begins to move slowly, lifting off the bed before he presses one last time causing her to move until she’s no longer nestled above the plush mattress.
Instead, she’s over… nothing. Exposed and vulnerable.
Her body hangs so beautifully. I’ve never seen anything quite so stunning.
Frankly, the sight of my darling girl covered in rope like this has me itching to run my fingers along her sensitive flesh so I can tease her everywhere the rope touches.
I want to do it more than I want relief from the pressure building between my legs. But I can’t. Fucking hell.
Once she’s fully suspended, he reaches for her and with the gentlest of touches, he nudges her to spin.
“Look at you now, Little Pixie. All tied up for me to have my way with you.” His voice is dripping with arousal as he taunts her.
She can’t move much in her position, but I don’t miss those toes of hers curling and uncurling over and over while her head dips down like she’s doing everything she can to contain herself.
“Is that what you want? For me to play with you?”
“I feel like we covered this already,” she sasses and I know where this is headed. She’s pissed he won’t give her the release she’s so desperate for so she’s about to let her inner brat out. I’ve seen it more than a few times.
“Ha!” A noise somewhere between a laugh and a squeal. It comes out before I can stop it and my hands immediately fly to my lips, saying a silent prayer that no one actually heard me.
When I see two sets of eyes laser-focused on me, I know I’ve failed.
My husband. My ex-girlfriend. Staring right at me.
My feet attempt to carry me backward, but there’s too many innocent bystanders for me to sneak out unnoticed.
I avert my eyes, bouncing them from wall to wall–like they can’t see me if I don’t look right at them–and search for something else to focus on. Anything else.
Hayes' smooth voice is the first to acknowledge me. “Raegan?”
So much for incognito.
I steel my spine, standing a little straighter. I need to pull myself together… fast. “I came to sign paperwork and the weirdo in the office next to yours sent me down here to find you.”
What is wrong with me?
“Call me when you’re done,” I tell him calmly. “Fair warning. She’s about to get real bratty and mouthy. I’d suggest keeping her in check before she starts trying to top from the bottom.”
Not long into my and Demetria’s arrangement, she started baiting me to get what she wanted, this topping from the bottom.
We discussed it after the first time it happened and she pleaded with me to not let her get away with it.
She tried a few more times after that, obviously testing me and every time I put her in her proverbial place.
It’s what she’s doing to him now. Testing his dominance.
I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m not even sure why I said it.
Before I’m able to fully turn around, I hear her. “Stay… please.”