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Eventually, yes.
I’m a very persistent man.
A smile pulls at my lips as I type my response.
Prove it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LAYLA
Stripping from last night’s clothes as I cross the apartment, I head to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. As I wait for the water to heat, I queue up some top hits on Alexa.
Music fills the room as I wash my hair, loudly—and poorly—indulging in a little shower karaoke with The Weeknd.
When I get out the shower, I swear someone is knocking on the door to my apartment. I hit pause on the music, and the repeated rapping on the wooden door echoes through the apartment.
“I’m coming,” I shout through the apartment as I wrap a towel around myself and race through the living room.
“Tristan?” I gasp as I pull the door open, immediately wanting to slam it shut so he doesn’t see me like this. Clutching the towel tightly against my chest—as though he hasn’t already seen every inch of me—I watch as his eyes hungrily follow the beads of water running down my body from my sopping wet hair.
“You look good when you’re wet.” He smirks with a devilish glint in his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” My question comes off curt, but I am standing nearly naked in the doorway because he wasn’t expected.
“Normally, I would’ve sent a messenger.” He lifts the medium-sized black gift bag in his hand. My eyes aren’t drawn to the bag, though, it’s his bruised and bloodied knuckles that have my attention. Noting my stare, he lowers his hand and continues, “But I was in the neighborhood for a meeting with a colleague, so I thought I’d drop these myself.”
“Drop what?” My brows furrow, and I can’t hide the curious inflection in my tone.
But it’s his hands I’m most curious about. Those cuts weren’t there last night, but they aren’t fresh and bleeding.
“You wanted to know more.” He pauses when my gaze meets his again. “Last night, you asked about my lifestyle, but you fell asleep before I could answer. These will get you started.”
He hands me the bag, and his eyes drag up and down my body as he steps back from me.
“You aren’t going to explain last night? Where you went?” My gaze tracks down his immaculately tailored suit to the swollen knuckles on both of his hands.
“I already did, darling. I told you I had to help my brother.”
“That’s it?” I exhale as he continues to walk backward down the hall to the awaiting elevator.
A smug and slightly flirtatious smirk ticks at the corner of his mouth as he steps into the elevator. “Were you expecting more? I do have that wife and kids to get home to.”
“Asshole!” I exclaim as I roll my eyes.
“I’m sure she won’t mind if I answer any questions you have that aren’t in the books,” he teases as the doors shut.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. This is a game of chess, and I am clearly outmatched. He’s setting me up to play right into his plan. I know it, and I’m certain that I’m going to do exactly what he wants anyway.
Closing the door, I sit on the couch and peek into the bag. Two books and an envelope. I pull out the books first.
BDSM for Beginners.
Exploring Submission.
Grabbing the envelope, I tear it open with the excitement of a kid opening a birthday card. A sleek black card the size of a credit card falls into my lap. Exclusive VIP Member. Lifting it, I flip it over and read the other side aloud, “Club Triskelion.”
I place it on the coffee table with the books and open the notecard.
