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“Let’s start with some stretches. If your ribs are better, I’ll work you through some holds and ways to escape them.”
“My ribs are a lot better.”
“Perfect. Let’s get started.”
Lake comes in and sits on a bench to watch until she chases him out for getting growly when she hurts my fingers. She calls it after three hours which is probably good. I'm so exhausted I doubt I’ll even be able to stand to take another shower. Grant and Lake are in the living room watching some financial news program when we come out.
Lake stands to walk Lilith down to the lobby muttering about how her husband would murder him if he didn’t accompany her down to her car. She laughs but doesn’t disagree. I get the impression that her husband is a pretty intense guy.
“You look exhausted,” Grant says after they leave.
“I am.”
“I have an idea, come with me.” He stands and holds out his hand. He leads me to his place and back into the master bathroom. He runs the water and motions me over. “Tell me what temperature feels good.”
He pulls the stopper in his fancy glass tub when I tell him it’s a good temperature. Then he grabs a bottle of Epsom salts and dumps some into the water. The scent of lavender fills the room and steam rises off the water.
“May I?” he asks, holding the hem of my shirt in his fingers. When I nod, he pulls the shirt off, my sports bra, then my leggings and panties. He holds my hand while I step into the hot water and submerge myself. “Relax for a couple minutes. I’ll be right back.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I let my head rest against the bath pillow he hung on the edge of the standalone tub. It’s large enough for two people, and I’m tempted to ask him to join me, but I think I’m too tired for sex. I let my eyes drift closed and completely zone out in bliss as the warm water soothes away all my aching muscles.
“Liv,” Grant’s voice is quiet and calming, “I’m going to wash and condition your hair, okay? Just keep relaxing.”
I keep my eyes closed and my head tipped back as he pours water over my head to wet my hair. He gently massages the shampoo through my blonde strands, giving me a soft smile when our eyes meet. Then he repeats the rinsing with even more care to keep the suds out of my eyes. I wonder where he learned how to care for someone like this. He works the conditioner through my hair and twists it up to keep it from dropping into the water and rinsing off too quickly.
“How did you learn how to do all this?”
“At Seven, in the dungeon, we have public scenes and rent private rooms for scenes. I’ve been around enough true Dominants that I know how to give good aftercare. That’s what this is similar to.”
I think about that for a while. I really don’t know a thing about this. I didn’t even know aftercare was a thing. “So this is what you’d do for me if…”
“If we experiment with degradation? Yes, or it could be different. We could talk, and I would reassure you.” He grabs my chin and runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “For example, if I told you that you were my slut,” his thumb slides between my lips, “I would make you feel like the most important woman in the world to me, because you are. You are beautiful.” He drags his thumb back out, pulling my bottom lip down. “You are courageous.” He fills the cup back with water and begins rinsing my hair. “You are intelligent.” Rinse. “You are strong.” Rinse. “You are mine.”
“And Lake’s, Nolan’s, and Sawyer’s too.”
“Behind my front door,” his eyes glitter like emeralds, “you are mine, and mine alone.”
25
OLIVIA
I wantedto wear something bold to the fundraiser. Something powerful. Something that Tripp would have never allowed me to be photographed in. So I grabbed Sawyer, who called his personal shoppers, and we spent an entire day searching up and down Fifth Avenue for the perfect look.
I turn and look at my reflection in Sawyer’s mirror. The woman looking back at me is both familiar and foreign to me. My skin is sun kissed but beyond that there’s a glow to me that I haven’t seen before. A sharpness to the gaze staring back at me. I’m not the innocent girl I once was, no longer cowering from the violence delivered to me. The brutality of Tripp’s words and actions hurt me deeply, but I’ve been finding strength slowly.
I went with a white slim cut tuxedo and pointy toe stilettos to make a bold statement, especially knowing that Tripp would hate it. He hates menswear on women. The jacket buttons at the bottom of my rib cage leaving my chest exposed as I opted to not wear a shirt under it. Double stick tape and a prayer are the only things giving me confidence right now.
Sawyer brought in a beauty squad for me. They twisted my hair back into a sleek knot low on the nape of my neck. My eyes are smokey, and my face is perfectly contoured. It’s all topped off by a bold red lipstick.
“You ready, Liv?” Sawyer asks as he walks into the room. He stops short when I turn to face him. His eyes widen as he looks down my body slowly and then back up. “You look stunning.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” Correction, he looks fucking incredible. All the guys have opted to wear black on black Brioni tuxedos. The price tag of those is pretentious as fuck—I’d know because Tripp was obsessed with Brioni and Kiton, constantly wishing he could be dressed by the designers. This is the guys’ way of saying ‘fuck you’ to him.
He steps toward me, reaching out to trace the exposed curve of my breasts with his finger. “I have a surprise, something that will complement this perfectly.” He pulls a box out of his jacket, and when he does, I notice the glint of his gun in its shoulder holster.
I know they’ll all be carrying tonight and with good reason. It doesn’t change the fact that it still makes me uneasy. Staying with them means getting used to this though, and their love is worth it.
I open the red box and see a gold lariat necklace with four diamond pendants hanging from it. There are matching diamond stud earrings as well. It’s breathtakingly gorgeous. My lips part to thank him when I look up into his cobalt eyes, but no words come out.
