Chapter 19
Mira
Dinner was so many things, but it all funneled down to one word—unexpected.
Sebastian Reid had layers. None of them matched the hard-ass boss I’d endured for weeks, and definitely not the airbrushed version magazines loved to shove down the world’s throat.
And yet here we were, sitting in this tiny bistro tucked between a record shop and an old bookstore—the kind of place you found only if you were lost or lucky. And somehow, being here with him felt like both.
The food was better than anything I’d ever eaten. But it wasn’t the salmon or the wine that had undone me.
It was Sebastian.
When we finished and the conversation finally lulled, Mr. Reid stood, slipped a couple hundred-dollar bills onto the table, then extended his hand toward me.
For a second, I just stared.
He was being a gentleman—polished, practiced. Maybe something inherited rather than learned.
But when my hand slipped into his and he pulled me to my feet, the world shifted. We didn’t step apart. We didn’t breathe. We just stood there, tension crackling like a live wire between us.
He was my boss. Tomorrow he’d be my boss again. Hell, in twenty minutes he’d be my boss again.
But right now?
Right now he was a man who looked at me like he wanted nothing more than to back me against the nearest wall.
And I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it so fiercely it scared me. Wanted to know how his control would feel when it finally broke. Not because he was my boss—but because he wasn’t acting like one at all.
A pot clattered in the kitchen, shattering the fragile moment between us. He stepped back.
“Let’s get you back to your car.”
And just like that, the CEO slid back into place. He gestured for me to step in front of him and followed me, his hand resting on the small of my back again. We barely made it halfway before the server ran up to us.
“Bash, wait, don’t go.”
Bash?
We both turned. Hannah hurried toward us, carrying two cardboard bakery boxes stacked in her arms.
I looked up at him, and that’s when I saw it—the most genuine, unguarded smile I’d ever seen on Sebastian Reid’s face. Not the sharp one he used on clients. Not the cool, distant one he wore in the office. Something softer. Something real.
“Give me a minute,” he said before turning back to Hannah. “Grandma would be mad if I didn’t take it.”
Hannah grinned and thrust one of the boxes at him. “She made your favorite bread pudding.” Then she handed the other to me. “And this one’s for you. Trust me—it’s incredible.”
I took the box from her. “Thank you.”
Before I could say anything else, she launched herself at Bash. He wrapped an arm around her without hesitation, pressing a kiss to the top of her head like it was the most natural thing in the world.
What alternative universe had I just stepped into?
“Tell Aunt Moira, I’ll see her soon.”
“You’ll have to come to dinner,” she called before heading into the kitchen.
I stared openly at him. He slid his hand back to the small of my back and nudged me toward the front.
Outside, his car was already waiting. The older gentleman rounded the hood, handed Mr. Reid the keys, and opened my door.
“Hope you had a good night, Mr. Reid.”
He nodded at the older man. “Always here, Arthur. Thank you.”
I slid into the passenger seat. Sebastian rounded the front of the car, the streetlight catching on the edge of his jaw, and for a second it was like seeing him again for the first time—dangerous, controlled, and devastatingly human.
He folded into the driver’s seat but didn’t start the engine right away. The silence wasn’t awkward. It just was.
What had I just witnessed?
“You okay?” he asked, low, like he wasn’t sure if he should ask at all.
I nodded even though I wasn’t sure I was. “Just…processing.”
A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “Yeah. I figured.”
He finally turned the key, the engine purring to life. As we pulled away from the curb, the bistro disappeared behind us, but the version of him I’d seen inside, the one the magazines never talked about, stayed with me.
What was his connection with Bastian’s? Hannah? The grandmother that was mentioned? Aunt Moira? Could I even ask?
He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the console, close enough that if I curled my fingers just an inch, I could touch him.
I didn’t.
But the sensation in my chest—that coil of anticipation, fear, excitement—felt eerily familiar. The way I felt right before walking into a scene with my master. Unsure. Thrumming. Alive.
And I hated how easily my body remembered that.
But I thought about it as I stared at the city lights.
“Bastian’s was the first place my granddad worked when he got to Seattle. It was a little pizza place back then,” Sebastian said, answering the question I hadn’t voiced.
“He came over from Ireland when things weren’t great. When the owner got sick, my granddad stepped up. Shocked everyone when the man offered him a deal—run it for five years, then buy it when he retired.”
A small smile pulled at Sebastian’s mouth. “He made it his own after that. Turned it into the place you just saw.”
He glanced toward the windshield. “My aunt runs it now. Hannah’s grandma.”
None of this was in the articles I’d read about him. His family was Irish, sure—but banking, not restaurants. This was new. And it felt important. Like I’d been handed a key to a room no one else knew existed.
Before I could respond, he pulled into the quiet lot where my car sat. He parked, shut off the engine, and turned toward me fully, his thumb brushing the edge of the bread-pudding box like it was the most natural buffer between us.
“Thank you for dinner,” I murmured.
“No,” he said, eyes steady on mine. “Thank you for saying yes.”
My breath hitched.
There it was, the unspoken thing between us. The thing neither of us could name.
He leaned in, close enough that heat ghosted over my skin but not close enough to cross the line. Not yet.
Then he exhaled sharply, popped his door open, and moved around to mine.
He opened it and offered his hand again, and for a split second I flashed to another hand, another night—my master opening a door, the leather mask hiding everything but the way he owned the air around him.
I stepped out and stumbled, catching myself against Sebastian’s chest. His arm wrapped around me instinctively. His other hand brushed a stray piece of hair from my cheek and my whole body lit up like he’d flipped a switch only he knew existed.
Was he going to kiss me?
“Get home safe, Mira,” he whispered.
And just like that, like he knew exactly how close I was to breaking, he stepped back and nodded toward my car.
What the hell had just happened?
I might’ve sat there for an hour trying to sort it all out, but it was obvious he wouldn’t leave until I did, so I drove home. When I locked my apartment door behind me, I plugged in my phone and tossed my bag aside.
It dinged immediately.
Micah: Found something. Talk to you in the morning. You home yet?
I smiled despite the knot twisting low in my stomach.
Mr. Reid, Sebastian, had trusted me—with something personal.
Something private. I doubted many people knew.
Maybe Mr. Cross and Hale, since every article labeled the three of them the tech-world’s golden trio—meeting at some fancy private school before conquering college and then the industry together.
Yes, I’d done my research. Thoroughly. I’d wanted to work for the best, and Sentinel Tech was exactly that.
I blew out a breath and leaned back against my kitchen counter.
My body was still buzzing from dinner, his hand at my back, the way he looked at me, like he saw past everything I hid.
Was it pathetic that tonight was the closest thing I’d had to a date in a year?
Probably. But I wasn’t delusional; I knew what tonight was.
We’d both been running on fumes and needed food. That was all.
Except… it didn’t feel like just that.
My phone buzzed.
Bossman: I don’t usually let anyone at work see that side of me. I’d appreciate you keeping tonight between us.
I typed before I could overthink it.
Me: I’m good at keeping secrets.
The dots appeared instantly.
That alone made my pulse jump.
Bossman: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re good at a lot of things.
Before I could even absorb that, my email app chimed.
My heart stuttered. Nobody emailed my personal account. Except my mom on Sundays—and him.
A chill rolled up my spine as I opened the message.
My dearest Pet,
Up for a play date this coming Saturday?
If you are, and you’re willing to turn over complete control, I am ready to take you to heights you’ve never seen before, but it’s going to take trust.
Sir
My stomach dropped so fast, it was quite dizzying.
I grabbed the charger and walked across the room to my bed, the email still glowing on my screen.
Trust?
More than I’d ever given him?
My chest tightened. I’d already trusted him with so much. Hell, I didn’t even know who he was and he’d tied me up, flogged, spanked me, and fucked me every which way and back again. He had my surrender, my silence, my submission.
What more could he possibly want?
My knees hit the edge of the mattress and I sat, everything closing in. It was too quiet. I pressed my palm to my sternum as I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath.
His message played on replay, his words from our last session. How every time I didn’t think I could come again, he proved me wrong, again and again.
Up for a play date?
Complete control.
Trust.
Sir did have impeccable timing.
I took a deep breath and pictured myself on my knees, in front of my master last week.
I’d been bound, my hands behind my back, my body already trembling from everything he’d wrung out of me that night.
He’d been in a black leather mask that covered all his facial features except his eyes.
His dark, piercing eyes I couldn’t quite determine the color with the way the dim lights in the room were.
He’d given me a small ball to hold in my hand since I’d lost the ability to use my safe word as soon as he shoved his cock down my throat.
Sucking dick had always been a chore before, an obligation. It was expected.
But with him?
God.
I’d wanted it. My mouth had watered the moment he’d unzipped his pants and pulled his beautiful cock out. Need had made my thighs shake.
By the time he’d untied me from the D-ring in the ceiling, after a thorough flogging and two vibrator-induced almost orgasms he refused to let me tip over, my body was nothing but nerve endings and need. Then he bound my hands behind my back again and commanded me to my knees.
His fist twisted in my hair. His other hand guided himself to my lips. And then—
One heartbeat it was my master holding me down on him, his grip punishing, my tears blurring the edges of his mask.
The next heartbeat the mask was gone.
And Mr. Reid was there.
I gasped. My eyes flew open, and my phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the floor.
“Oh, lord,” I whispered into the empty room, heat flooding my face, my chest, my entire body.
This wasn’t good.
This wasn’t good at all.
I needed to finish this damn project.
To sleep.
Distance.
Hell, I needed a job where I wasn’t feet away from Sebastian Reid—where I wasn’t already half-convinced I’d combust the next time he looked at me like he had tonight.
Because if my subconscious was already blurring the lines between my master and my boss?
I was in more trouble than I realized.