CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THERE MUST BE SOMETHING HAPPENING BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS THE B-LISTER LOVES TO SEE AND BE SEEN
TRIPP
Greer’s hazel eyes went from the large viewing window to the bed then back to me. “People can see…?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at the moveable mirrors. “The whole room?”
“Yes,” I repeated.
“And you like that?”
“I’m an actor. We’re all narcissists for an audience.”
And it was the truth. When I’d first started visiting Gilded, I’d preferred the rooms stocked with pain implements. Once that was no longer an option for me, I’d moved on to the mirror room. But as my self-disgust grew, I hadn’t wanted to see the truth on my face anymore.
That left the exhibitionist and voyeur room.
All eyes on me.
An actor playing the role of a man who didn’t loathe his life.
A jester for the court.
“Can you see them?” she asked.
“It depends.” I removed my arm from around her to hit the switch on the wall. The window changed to a mirror before I flicked it back.
“Oh,” she said, her voice shaking.
I could’ve lied to her about which room I liked. I could’ve brought her to any of the other ones that would get me off just as much because I was there with her, and that was all that mattered. But she’d put her trust in me, and I didn’t want to fuck it up.
A decision I was regretting as I stared at that damn window.
I didn’t have a problem performing for an audience. Not before, at least.
But the thought of someone seeing any part of her was enough to make me want to go out to the bar to preventatively stab their eyes out.
As badly as I wanted Greer, I hoped like fuck she would back down. That those nerves making her mess with her hair would overpower her desire, and she would let me take her somewhere else. Anywhere else.
I should’ve known my stubborn siren wouldn’t fold. She lifted her chin to watch me. Waiting for me to take the lead.
I thought fast. I had no clue if my plan would work, but it was the only one I had.
I moved to the cabinet stocked with sealed toys, lube, condoms, and everything else people would need for a good night. I grabbed something and returned to Greer.
Her gaze dropped to what I held, and displeasure tightened her pretty face. “Tripp, I?—”
I pushed my shoulders back. “What name did I say I preferred?”
Brows furrowed, it took her a second to recall the conversation that’d gone through my own head on repeat. “Sir?”
I lifted my chin. “Don’t call me anything else.”
It was good to know that those little glimpses of submissiveness hadn’t been projections from me otherwise she might have laughed in my face. Instead, the two words came out as a breathless sigh. “Yes, Sir.”
