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“You think this was an experiment?” I move toward him. “That I came here to taste that smart mouth and see if I liked it?”

The humor leaves his face. “Didn’t you?”

“No.” I close the remaining distance between us. “I came here for you.”

He scoffs. “So what, the great Duncan Murphy is suddenly into men and Daddy kink? Even you have to hear how crazy that sounds. Now you don’t even have to buy me dinner to get a taste.”

My jaw tightens. He’s making a joke out of it, but there’s nothing amused about the way he reaches for the door.

“It was fun, Duncan, but I don’t want to be there when you wake up tomorrow and decide tonight was a mistake.”

“You walking out that door changes nothing.”

His grin comes back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “See you around, Daddy.”

Nash unlocks the door and walks out before I can stop him. For the second time today, I’m left watching him leave because he’s already decided what I’m going to do before giving me the chance to prove him wrong.

He can have tonight. Tomorrow, we’re finishing this conversation.

Chapter 13 Nash

I make it outside The Velvet Collar and keep moving. Getting into Duncan’s car would be easy. Going home with him would be even easier after everything that happened upstairs, and that’s exactly why I need to get the hell out of here.

I’ve done the part where I let myself believe someone could love me enough to stay. I believed promises, ignored every warning sign and kept holding on until there was nothing left to save. I’m not doing that again, especially with a forty-six-year-old man who walked into his first kink club tonight after spending his entire life with women.

Duncan can mean every word he said to me right now and still wake up tomorrow wondering what the fuck he did. By then, I’ll already want more. Dinner. Another night. Another chance to call him Daddy and feel like I actually belong there. That’s the part that scares the shit out of me, because walking away from him tonight is going to hurt a hell of a lot less than walking away after I let myself believe I could keep him.

I haven’t made it ten steps from the doors before they swing open behind me. I keep going, weaving through the line of waiting cars as I search for the first empty taxi.

“Nash, stop.”

Duncan’s command carries across the parking lot in the same deep voice that had me on my knees only minutes ago, and damn my body for still wanting to obey it. I keep moving. The first taxi pulls up as I reach the curb, and I yank the door open before Duncan can catch me.

“Drive.”

The driver glances at me in the mirror. “You sure? That guy’s calling after you.”

I pull the door shut and sink back against the seat. “Please. Just drive.”

The locks click, and the cab pulls away from the curb. I keep my attention on the back of the driver’s seat instead of looking through the window because I’m not convinced I’ll keep going if I see Duncan standing there.

By the time I make it inside my apartment, leaving him feels a lot less like self-preservation and a lot more like a really shitty decision. I toss my keys onto the counter and kick off my boots, but I can’t settle. Every time I stop moving, my mind goes straight back to the private room, Duncan’s hands on me and the absolute certainty in his voice when he told me he came there for me.

Then there’s the part of my brain that refuses to shut up about the fact that Duncan came after me. He sent Daniela away and followed me to The Velvet Collar, walking into a place completely outside anything he’s ever done because I was there.

“Damn it.” I drag both hands through my hair and start pacing again. I’ve spent years going after men who could hurt me without losing sleep over it, yet Duncan Murphy has me questioning every fucking instinct I have. I wanted to turn around before the taxi even left the curb, and being home hasn’t changed that.

I spend most of the night awake, replaying every reason I should have stayed with Duncan right alongside every reason I ran. By morning, I’m exhausted and no closer to changing my mind. Going home with him would have given me exactly what I wanted, and wanting it that badly is still the problem.

I drag myself out of bed and curl up on the couch with my laptop balanced across my knees. Duncan Murphy has already taken over enough of my night, and I have something far more important sitting unread in my inbox.

The file Zee sent on Justin Mills opens with the usual bullshit: family history, financial records and business connections. Justin comes from old money. His family builds private schools, puts their name on hospital wings and apparently has enough influence to make problems disappear.

The legal section is where it gets ugly. There are several allegations involving date rape drugs, but every case was dismissed or sealed. The victims eventually stopped cooperating, and civil complaints ended in settlements and NDAs. Not a single conviction.

Ben’s trembling voice from the support group comes back to me.

“Then the abuse started.”