Page 32 of Lost & Found

“I’m getting to that part. Patience. I’ll be sure to include something on this list to test yours a bit more. You could definitely use the practice.”

“You’re dangerously close to being replaced, secretary.”

“And who else would you recruit? You already told me the girls are a no-go.”

“Then you’d better wow me with something astute, or I’ll put out an ad.”

She stuck her tongue out, and I had to fight every urge in me not to lean down and suck it into my mouth and devour her. My eyes moved to Declan, and I concealed my rampant thoughts.

She wanted astute. Only time would tell if she thought it was or not. I grinned. Numerology was something I’d dabbled in for a few years. Looking for that mystical or divine relationship between numbers became an obsession.

“Very well. You see, numbers represent energy.” I paused to gauge her reaction. She looked surprised at the entire train of my thoughts. “You thought all I cared about was dance, huh?”

“That and spending copious amounts of time at the club doing God knows what.”

“You’re fully aware of what goes down in the club. I’m curious. Have you ever been inside?”

She gave a harsh laugh. “Me? Never. I have no reason to. It may be something Kins and Tori are into, but I can assure you I’m in the camp of never.”

“That’s too bad,” I teased, as her eyes widened.

In the second it took me to respond without thinking it through, I’d started flirting with her. Again. God, she made it easy. I shouldn’t be entertaining the idea, despite the fact that when she left tonight, her scent would linger on my pillows.

Fuck. She was too tempting. And now she’d confirmed what I already knew—what I liked, she never could. Not that I could blame her. Of everyone, I probably knew the least when it came to the experience the girls had.

Kinsley liked to think she was protecting me from knowing. Tori and my relationship was still growing, and there was no expectation that she would open that part of her world to me. It wasn’t necessary.

Because she lived in fear longer and was subjected to intense torture by her ex-husband, there were subtle differences Marcel pointed out to be mindful of. She was progressing, though, and didn’t flinch every time or cower in fear when one of us bellowed.

My desire to explore the lifestyle was not impulsive by any means. It started in subtle ways, even before the auction. And the resulting week I’d spent with Leena opened my eyes to what truly existed in that realm. I seized it. I’d always been adventurous but never had an opportunity to explore.

When I ended things with Hannah, my entire life changed. I approached the guys with trepidation, fearing what I didn’t know. Maybe I wasn’t a good fit. Feelings of inadequacy almost kept me silent.

With dance, I never felt less than. I wasn’t conceited, nor did I think I was better than anyone. But I knew my worth, and my talent spoke for itself. This was a whole new realm, though. And in true Death Squad fashion, they took me under their wing.

Bash, being a senior member of the club and having years of experience, took on the challenge, making my previous fears dissolve immediately. He took me around, answered all the questions I had, explained scenes—contracts, terms—and even had me go through a series of tests.

They were sticklers for rules of safety and guidelines. Training was intense, to say the least. They held to the belief that to learn to dominate; you had to experience it first. Both sides, Sub and Dominant. Apparently unbeknownst to me, their initial mentor believed the same. If they had gone through it, I could as well.

Through it all, I discovered new things about myself or found pieces that always existed. And there was no way I’d go back. Not that it was an option with Isabella, even if she was on board. Which, for the love of God, was probably for the best.

“Did I lose you?” she asked.

“No, I was thinking things I shouldn’t,” I admitted to her, watching as her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.

“I should dock your pay, you know. Maybe I’ll bring this issue up to HR tomorrow at breakfast.”

“Oh no. I’m shaking in my boots.”

“You will be when Bash throws you out of the house.”

“Ouch. You’re a cruel mistress. Now there’s a thought. Maybe number one on the list? What do you think about becoming a Mistress?” I raised my eyebrows, taunting her.

This time she abandoned punching me and opted instead to yank my hair back. Hard. I hissed.

“I take the sanctity of marriage seriously. I will never be someone’s mistress. Are we clear?”

I smiled lazily at her as fire burned in her eyes. “I meant in the capacity of the club. Look who is making assumptions.”