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“Fantastic. Well, we have equipment set up on second level in the main space. It’s not a fully outfitted dungeon since we only bring in temporary stuff for these parties, but I think you’ll find it adequate. A few people have wandered up there already. We also have a few things set up in the banquet room down the hall.”
I realized quickly, listening to the other man talk, that this was Kade, the restaurant owner I’d met earlier. My hold on Foster eased from death grip down to only mild panic. I’d instantly liked Kade, his manner easy and his eyes kind. Plus, knowing who was on the other side of my blindfold made me feel marginally better. He was simply the party host, telling us where we could go. I didn’t let my mind process the rest of what he’d said—talk of dungeons and other people and such. Nope. Wasn’t going to think about that.
Not. At. All.
Anxiety bit at me like ruthless snapping turtles.
“Thank you, Kade,” Foster said, shifting me forward a bit and taking me by the elbow. “I’m not sure that’s quite what I have in mind.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you. My body melted in relief.
Yes, I could get totally turned on imagining watching others or doing things in front of them. But actually doing it—yeah, that might make me pass out in sheer terror. I’d barely gotten comfortable being sexual in front of Foster much less strangers.
“I understand,” Kade said.
“But I was hoping,” Foster continued, “you might be able to help us out in another way.”
“What’d you have in mind?” Kade asked, his curiosity and interest evident in his voice. I could almost picture him there, blond head tilted, mischief sparking in those blue eyes.
Foster left my side for a moment as he spoke in low tones with Kade. I inclined my head toward the sound but couldn’t make out most of the damn words. But the few I did hear made my spine go stiff. Was he inviting Kade to be part of my punishment? Oh, hells no.
“Foster,” I said in a harsh whisper as my body started to quake with nerves again. He didn’t answer. I felt like a child urgently trying to get her parent’s attention, looking for a pant leg to tug on. “Sir.”
“Hush,” he said, a bite to the simple word.
“I can definitely help you out with that,” Kade said, a smile in his tone.
Oh, screw this. I stepped back, bumping into a wall, and yanked the tie off my eyes, frustration and fear surging in me like a battle cry.
Foster’s frown was unmistakable in the soft light of the hallway. “Cela.”
“No,” I said, words spilling out of me without going through any kind of filter. I threw the tie onto the ground. “I lied, okay? So I didn’t tell my family yet. Big deal. It wasn’t a freaking capital crime. That doesn’t mean you should get to punish me and invite your friends along for the ride.”
“Invite my—” Thunderclouds crossed Foster’s expression, an ominous spring storm blotting out the sunshine, and he stepped forward. Automatically, I pressed my back fully against the wall, half hoping it would just absorb me into it. To my dismay, the drywall didn’t cooperate. Foster moved into my space—not touching me, not trapping me, but freezing me in place nonetheless with the hard look in his eyes. His voice was like a winter-chilled gust when he spoke again. “Not a big deal? Were you or were you not the one who wanted to stay so this could become a relationship—not just kinky fun?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I said, my words sharp but my voice quavering and my fingers pressing into the wall for support.
“You lied to me. People in relationships are supposed to be honest, to talk about what they’re going through.”
“And it pissed you off,” I said in a huff. “I get it. I’m sorry. I said I was sorry.”
He scoffed. “Pissed? You think this is about me being pissed?” He bent his head toward me, his gaze boring into mine. “I’m hurt, Cela. If you’re just using me to get some wild oats out your system, then fucking tell me that. At least I know where I stand. But don’t make me care about you, and then not even trust me enough to talk to me. How would you feel if I said your punishment was that I get to tell one free lie to you when the time suits me? Would that seem like a big deal?”
I
glanced away. That would, of course, be awful—wondering anytime he said something if this was the time he was going to choose to lie. Gah. I didn’t want him to make sense. My righteous indignation felt so much better than thinking I’d actually hurt him.
“You know what it makes me feel like when you lie to me?” he asked, his voice soft now.
I pressed my lips together and shook my head, feeling a little more miserable with each passing second.
“Like your fuck buddy, Cela. Like some guy.”
I winced at his pained tone.
So it was true. I’d hurt him.
The thought ran through my head like a storm warning on repeat. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Foster wasn’t just angry that I’d lied to him; the lie and my lack of trust had honestly affected him. And that did something to me I couldn’t even explain. Hurt meant that this was important to him. Hurt meant that his feelings were involved. Hurt meant that earlier tonight he hadn’t jumped my case about the peephole because he was some overbearing asshole—he did it because he was genuinely concerned about me.
