Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Hartford
Sleeping in Paxton’s bed last night was a nightmare.
A complete nightmare. Even though I was exhausted, I kept waking up every hour, practically on the hour.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe because Paxton was sucking all the air out of the room.
I felt like I needed to tell him the exact reason I set my house on fire.
My cheeks blush. I could never do that.
I rush down the hall at work, trying my best to go unnoticed by my boss. I zip past his door, but hear him call my name.
Ugh.
I backtrack and stand in his doorway.
“Mr. Charleston, what’s up?” I try my best to look casual. Like a woman who has her shit together, even though I don’t.
“I’d like to see your notes for your article.”
“Sure thing.” I force a smile. Keep the confidence up. Don’t let the mask of confidence slip.
“Email me them this afternoon.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, giving a firm nod.
He twists his face as he studies me. “Everything okay?”
I slump against the doorframe and tell him about the fire. He’s genuinely concerned and offers to help in any way he can.
“Why not take a few days off and you can have a few extra days on your article, Hartford. Where are you staying? I know your parents’ house is still under renovations, right?”
I nod. “I’m staying with Paxton Atwood.”
Mr. Charleston gives me a knowing smile. “Ah, yes. I know the Atwoods.” Doesn’t everyone. “You and Paxton have always been close, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I hope your place gets fixed soon. And tell your Aunt Nora I said hi.”
I crack a small smile. Mr. Charleston has had the hots for my aunt for many years but has never acted on it. I sort of wish he would, because my aunt may be on a spiritual journey, traveling the globe, but I know she’s lonely. If her texts and pics are anything to go by.
“Will do.” I leave his office and rush to my cubicle down the hall to get some work done.
At my desk, however, I can’t think about anything but Paxton. The sound of his breathing. The way he moved closer to me throughout the night. The feel of his arms around me.
Like I said, sleeping with Paxton is a nightmare.
Tonight, I’m going to make sure we put pillows between us. So it doesn’t happen again.
I force him out of my mind and work for a few hours interviewing Natalie via phone, and a few other people from the munch who wanted to be interviewed, trying my best to make sense of my notes on BDSM.
After doing more internet searches, and reading articles on different fetishes, I analyze why Paxton and I aren’t having any luck with our BDSM scenes.
Maybe I just need to let loose and have a little fun. Stop overthinking.
I find my phone and send Pax a text.
What time do you get off tonight?
He replies back within seconds.
Should be done around six? Why?
I was thinking we could try another scene at your place.
You know I’m always down to help.
There’s that word again—help. Paxton’s the type of guy to help anyone.
He’s the one who helps the old woman cross the road.
He’ll walk down the street and see a woman with groceries in her hand and offer to carry them for her.
It’s how I know he doesn’t have the same feelings I’m having for him. He’s just a friendly guy who helps.
Well, I’m going to have him help me in a sexual way. We’re practicing scenes and I need his help.
Maybe Dom/sub stuff?
Absolutely. Master.
No, you’ll be the Master.
That’s even better.
My insides coil at the thought of Paxton dominating me. What will he say? What will he demand I do?
I’m all up in my thoughts when another text comes through.
The owner of Club Greed invited me for a free night at their club. We could always go there.
My eyes nearly bulge out of my head. The intrigue is there. Club Greed is exclusive. It’s legendary, and I’m sure they’re like an encyclopedia of BDSM.
Okay.
I’ll see you tonight then.
My nerves take flight, creating a slow pulse low in my belly. In just a few short hours, I’ll be at Club Greed. With Paxton.
Paxton looks like sex. Pure raw sex. He’s wearing a black suit that I didn’t even know he owned. His hair is gelled to perfection, which is a complete contrast to the unruly way he normally wears it.
I love it.
I’m dolled up in a slinky red dress that I aired out so it didn’t smell like smoke. Once he mentioned Club Greed, I flew into my boss’ office, telling him the news about going to Club Greed, and begging to go home to get ready.
Yes, a girl needs ample time to get ready for a place like Club Greed. I even painted my toes red to match my dress, and my black-strappy heels shows them off perfectly. I feel sexy.
I might even look sexy, because Paxton has barely uttered a word since he saw me and whispered, “Fuck.”
Now we’re in his Jeep, making our way to Club Greed in Saint Pierce, and my nerves are on high alert.
“What can I expect at the club?”
Paxton shrugs. “I’ve never been there when they’re open, but I know we can hang out on the club floor. We don’t need to visit any of the rooms.”
I nod. “Or maybe we can,” I say, feeling brave.
“You’re the boss.” He glances at me for a brief second before focusing back on the road.
“Well, I think we should at least be open to it,” I say, hoping he knows what I’m saying. He doesn’t say anything back, so I expand. “What I mean is, we should try everything. Pretend we’re used to this lifestyle. Blend. We should act like—”
“Relax, Hart. I know what you mean,” he says in a low voice. He lifts my hand and brings my knuckles to his lips. “I think for one night only we don’t think about anything. Don’t think about your article. Don’t think about our past mishaps. Let’s just go in there and enjoy ourselves.”
My heart beats rapidly in my chest. I can’t bring myself to say any words, because I don’t trust my voice. I don’t trust anything.
All I know is I’m excited about tonight. Thrilled.
I want this.
He pulls up to the valet at the club, and I inhale a shaky breath as they open my door.
“Good evening, Miss,” the man says, helping me out of the Jeep.
“Hey, Jared,” Paxton says to the attendant on his side. “Keep it close.”
“Sure thing.” He takes the key from Pax, and I wait for Paxton to join me near the entrance.
“You ready?” he asks.
I peer up at him. “Yes. Let’s forget about everything, and just let what happens happen.”
He places his hand on the small of my back and leads me toward the door. Chills race up and down my spine.
I’m so screwed.
Hopefully.